#dancer!reader

[ghouljams]

Need ballet konig to grab my fucking tutu and ravage me, absolutely end me, I need him so carnally it is I N S A N E.

Bent over with his big hands around your waist, your tutu bouncing with each hard thrust of his hips. He keeps mumbling about how sweet you are to let a beast like him fuck you, how a pretty little ballerina like you should know better than to let a man cut open your costume just to bully his thick cock into you. He's so rough with you, you'd almost think he likes feeling the stiff tulle and silk hitting his chest and thighs. You can't do anything but hold onto your ankles like he told you, letting him use you like a toy. His cock hits you deep, achingly deep, and with the angle you could almost believe he's punching the air out of you with every thrust. He stretches you out so good, the little burn of friction and the low grunts of pleasure from him make you clench, just to feel the drag of each vein along your gummy walls.

You should know better than to tease him, walking around in your little costume, your legs on display, your neck bare and waiting to be bitten. One little slice of the fabric between your legs and he could do whatever he wanted. He'll catch hell from the costumer later, but for now he buries his cock into your warm, wet, cunt and enjoys how tight you are. It's a good angle for him, really makes him have to bully his way into your pussy to get every inch inside, and you get to cry all that pretty makeup off your face with how good it feels to be used like the flesh light you are.

[lostgirlmuseum]

The Swan and the Soldier

^made w/ pinterest

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader

Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer. 

Words: 5.6k (oops)

Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything

A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit

(Dividers by me😎)

“You want me to what?”

Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.

“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”

Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way. 

“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.

“Well—” 

“Shut up.”

“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”

“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”

“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”

“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”

“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”

“Sam, I don’t think I can—”

“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.

“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump. 

“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”

“He said what now?”

“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.

“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”

AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.

“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”

“Samuel.”

“You can say no,”

“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated. 

“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone. 

“This is manipulation.”

“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.

Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”

“Big time! Promise.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.

“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.

“Love you too, Buddy.” 

Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.

“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”

Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.

“James Barnes?” 

Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.

Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner. 

Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.

“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.” 

Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.

“Now is fine."

“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.

She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”

“Oh, none of them.” 

He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.

“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”

Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.

“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”

“Oh? All good things I hope?” 

He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.

“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.

“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”

“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”

“That’s cool.” 

Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.

“Do you still dance?”

“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”

“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.

She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.

“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”

Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”

‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?

He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.

“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”

Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.

She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.

“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!” 

“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N.” 

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.

Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.

“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.

“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.

“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”

“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.

“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”

Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.

“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.

“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.

“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”

“Oh, um…”

“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.

Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.

“I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”

“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”

Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.

“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”

“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.

It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.

“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.

“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”

“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.

“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”

“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”

Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”

“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”

“Oh.”

Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”

Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.

“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”

There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.

“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”

“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.

“Bye, metal man.”

“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Whatever.”

“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”

Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.

“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”

Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.

“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”

Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest. 

The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions. 

“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.

Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous. 

Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.

“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”

Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!

You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”

“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.

The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little. 

Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?

She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.

“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.

Everyone stepped forward.

The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?

“Group three!”

Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous. 

Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.

“And four,”

He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.

He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.

“Excellent! Let’s move on.”

Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves. 

“You ready to go, AJ?” 

AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”

“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.

The little girl looked up at him unphased. 

“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”

Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”

“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”

Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.

“So can you fly?” She squinted.

“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.

“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.

“Yep!”

“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”

Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.

“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.

“Bye!” AJ shouted.

Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.

“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly. 

“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Bucky.”

Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,

“Only friends and family call him that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.

“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”

“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.” 

He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”

“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”

“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”

“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”

Bucky nodded.

She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.

“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.

“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.

“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”

“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.

“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.” 

“Where did you want to go?”

“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,” 

Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”

“Just water is fine,”

“Sure, one second.”

Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned. 

Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies. 

“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”

Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.

“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.

She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.

Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page. 

There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls. 

“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.

Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.

Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.

“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”

Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.

“You were the swan?”

“Odette, yeah.”

Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.

“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”

She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.

“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”

“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.

They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.

“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.

It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.

“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.

She obliged and restarted the music.

They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush. 

“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!” 

Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg. 

“I used to be better,” he mumbled.

“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.

Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.

It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.

“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.

“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”

“I forgot my gloves.” 

“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.

“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”

“Is AJ not waiting for you?”

“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”

“Gotcha.”

A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you stop dancing?”

She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.

“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.

“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”

Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.

“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.

“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”

Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”

“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.

“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.” 

Bucky blushed.

“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”

“What is?”

“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”

“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.

“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”

“Charming?”

“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”

“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”

“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.

Bucky pursed his lips.

“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”

“More than willing.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”

She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.

“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”

The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.

“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.

“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”

“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped. 

“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”

Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.

“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I like dancing with you.

A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything

If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist

Happy holidays!

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Time of Our Lives | Dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader | Dirty Dancing AU

TGM masterlist

Characters & pairings: dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: fluff, light profanity, pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | WC: 8.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @eternalsams 🩶🥹)

Premise: what happens when two childhood best friends from well off families reunite at a country club leading into a summer that would impact their careers for eternity while dancing around a decades worth of brewing feelings and recreating an iconic dance for the country clubs annual showcase? Here’s a hit, it’s gonna be like that one song Baby and Johnny fell in love to.

Note: I am alive and just know I (quite literally) had the time of my life writing this piece. It brought me back to my 80s movies/dirty dancing hyperfixation 😭 @eternalsams thank you so much for your patience and requesting this gem. I hope I did you Justice and dancer Jake has my heart and soul. Thank you for trusting me with your vision 🩶

————————

“You could at least act like you’re having fun, Y/n,” came the scolding words of her mother when she noticed the unamused expression Y/n possessed.

A natural state she would describe since they arrived at the resort. And what Y/n could not depart from no matter how hard she tried.

Summertime. The best time of year for some folks who are eager to get away from the stress and drama of work and school to relax and have fun. Whether it be a week or two whole months. For high school dance teacher Y/n L/n, her ideal summer vacation would be in the comfort of her own home with a book or chilling at her favorite resultant sipping on Margaritas while enjoying live music. Going out with her small select group of friends to dance was also on her list of summer necessities…but her family had other plans.

To kick off her 2023 summer break—which is to last nearly three weeks if she manages to survive—Y/n and her family were at an upscale Catskills resort located in the Appalachian Mountains not too far from New York, the place she currently called home. A snazzy estate one may add, for it was filled with alumni from the top Ivy League schools in the country.

And Y/n’s personal hell.

Of course she loved spending time with her parents and siblings….to an extent. But, when they’re constantly berating her life choices by becoming a dance instructor—on top of displeased opinions of her love life—-Y/n felt suffocated by them.

It was like she could never live up to the expectation they had of her no matter how much she proved herself and her talent. Not only were her parents highly respected doctors in their community, but her sister graduated Summa Cum Laude at Yale Law School, marrying her college sweetheart before taking a job at one of the city’s top firms. Then there was her brother. He went on to become a naval fighter pilot, distinguished and respected with his place at number one in his class during his year at Top Gun. His wife was a trauma nurse who worked at the same hospital as her parents.

Yet here she was—mind you, a former member of the New York City Ballet Company, Juilliard Alumni, performed at the Super Bowl, toured with Rihanna in the mid early 2010s, appeared in several music videos, and teaches at the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts—unable to adhere to their standards.

Parents…they want what’s best for their children. Right?

Yeah she found that hard to believe.

If only they saw her in the Ballroom. And no, not talking about the kind you see on Dancing With The Stars. She’s talking about the Ballroom that calls New York its home.

But also ballroom dancing. Her sister would have a heart attack if she discovered Y/n danced Bachata with Prince Royce at a New York latin club.

“Fun?” Y/n scoffed, sipping at her glass of champagne resulting in a light cringe at the taste. For rich people one would think they’d have the best there was. What just hit her tastebuds was something out of a box container imposing as fancy liquor. “I don’t see how anyone could find this type of rendezvous fun, mother.” She received a scolding glare.

“Keep your voice down,” the older woman kept looking around to see if anyone heard, “these are our friends.”

“Your friends,” Y/n corrected. There was no way in hell she’d consider any of the fake people in front of her friends. No matter how long their families have been acquainted. None of them liked each other, and were always trying to one up whenever someone voiced an accomplishment.

Instead of answering, Y/n’s mother simply walked away with an annoyed huff. No longer in the mood to argue. Rolling her eyes, Y/n downed the last of her champagne before making way out the french doors of the lounge and into one of the many patios. The sunshine greeted her with its vibrant and warm rays. Chatter from the guests sitting under umbrellas and beside the pool filled her ears. Y/n placed her sunglasses and booked it across until she was on the pathway leading to the guesthouse she and her family were staying.

“Y/n!” Had it been anyone else the woman would’ve mentally signed, but the voice behind the greeting was none other than her childhood best friend growing up, Natasha. A genuine smile appeared on her face as she turned around.

“Hey, Nat!” the two embraced in a hug, “Been a while, huh?” In truth the two hadn’t seen each other face to face since 2019 when Natasha moved to California to base her talent agency. Despite this, Natasha still traveled every year to Caskilles around this time to see her family, whereas Y/n remained in New York due to shows and gigs.

“More like four years,” a playful nudge was sent her way, “girl you left me here to fend for myself. I should feel betrayed,” Nat smirked, “but I can’t blame you. The only reason I keep coming to this place is to please my mom. It’s the only time all of us siblings are under the same roof.”

Natasha was the oldest of four and the only daughter to three sons. Her father had been the Mayor of New York City while her mother was the former District Attorney. All of her brothers had achieved prospective careers. Antonio, the second oldest, had been drafted by the MLB and currently played for the Washington Nationals. Dominic, the middle brother, was a nuclear engineer who rarely ever got time off but always managed to get a week in the summer. Lastly the youngest of the bunch, Victor, was a professional photographer who went on tour with artists like Journey, Lionel Richie, Daddy Yankee, and Stevie Nicks.

For Natasha, she had fallen in love with the fashion industry at a young age. After graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology Natasha received an intern position at Vogue Magazine before becoming a product and brand marketing manager at Louis Vuitton, for which she got the opportunity to live in Paris, France for four years. There she got to work closely with Virgil Abloh, who unfortunately passed away in 2021, and Nicolas Ghesquiere.

As of 2022 Nat relocated to San Francisco and developed her own talent agency for aspiring models and fashion photographers who come from low-income backgrounds, LGBTQIA+, people of color and disabilities. With its success Nat’s had several clients on the face of Vogue and walking runways at every fashion week.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n said, the two beginning to walk down the path together, “Life’s been hectic. During the pandemic there were little to no gigs so I had no idea what to do.” Unfortunately being in the dance industry meant competitive opportunities with a maybe 10% success rate if lucky. Y/n’s last big break was dancing with Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande in their ‘Rain on Me’ music video. Y/n occasionally attended the Balls in New York, but hadn’t walked a category in ages.

She did have a following on social media, which bought in a reasonable amount of income. Over 100k on YoutTube and roughly 2 half a million on TikTok. Instagram had close to 3 million since it had been the primary platform in the 2010s and several of her dance videos went viral.

“I understand,” Nat nodded solemnly, “It was like that for me too. It’s nice the world is slowly going back to normal. Although,” she paused to chuckle, “the amount of damage control getting bookings back to their normal pace was probably the most stressful point in my career.”

“Has it been easier now?” They stopped at a little bench overlooking the lake, “I saw you were at fashion week.”

Nat instantly brightened. “Much better than before I will say. We’ve got a great wave of new clientele—I just landed this fella a cover with GQ so I’m pleased with that.” Y/n congratulated her before the agent changed the subject, “But enough about me, what about you?”

The woman scoffed, “Well my last big thing was the Lady Gaga music video—and that was going on three years now,” the thought made her frown. It wasn’t like her to go so long without a gig. “I auditioned for a spot on Beyoncé’s tour.”

“The Renaissance tour,” Nat nearly gagged. It was all anyone could talk about since tickets went on sale earlier that year. Nat managed to snag two for her and her boyfriend for the Los Angeles show. “And?”

“I’ll know in about a month or so if I book it.”

“You so got it,” Nat assured with a tap on her shoulder, “You’re one of the best dancers in the world. You danced with Madonna at the Super Bowl,” her gaze became pointed, “and toured with Rihanna. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nat,” Y/n laughed, though deep down she felt the hope in her rise.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha leaned back against the bench and was about to comment when someone in the distance caught her eye. “Is that who I think it is?”

Peeking over her shoulder, Y/n suddenly straightened her posture upon seeing the blonde man grinning from ear to ear as they made eye contact. Jake Seresin certainly landed on the right side of the puberty coin. With his tan, muscular frame, gorgeous green eyes, blonde hair and smile that belonged on the cover of a magazine, he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Ladies, fancy seeing you two here on this beautiful afternoon.”

A wave of butterflies simmered in Y/n’s tummy, a shy smile forming as he approached the bench. It’d been several years since the two saw each other despite being friends since childhood. “Jake,” she greeted, moving to accept his hug when he opened his arms. Natasha followed before the two sat back down, “It’s good to see you. Is your mom with you?”

Like Natasha and her family, Jake’s were part of the same circuit in terms of highly respected, sometimes influential people. His mother, a doctor, was a colleague of Y/n’s parents, and his late father was one of Texas’ Congressmen during the 2000-2010s. Jake’s only sibling, his sister Krista, was a young adult novelist with over ten publications.

Jake on the other hand was like Y/n: a professional dancer and known in the industry as a real life Ken Doll. He had a massive following online, choreographed music videos and tours—even went on tour with Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber, & Ariana Grande—and was a guest judge on ‘So You Think You Can Dance,”. During the pandemic a lot of his dance sequences went viral and became trends, Y/n even posted on to which he reposted with the caption, “you know I had to shine the spotlight on my favorite dance partner. Miss you Y/n/n.”

You can bet Y/n experienced internal fireworks.

There was no denying she had a crush on Jake growing up. The two were inseparable whenever their families stayed at the resort. They’d even make trips out to each other during winter break, eventually attended Juilliard at the same time, and collaborated early in their careers. Jake and Y/n used to sneak out of the country club when they were younger to dance on the dock while blasting music from the boom box they’d stolen from the lounge. They learned ballroom together, competing in competition without Y/n’s family having knowledge of it.

Unlike Y/n’s parents, Jake’s mom and dad approved of his career choice. Though skeptical in the beginning, they grew to be very supportive and attended his showcases at school, the concert he was performing in and kept up with what he was doing.

Because of their disapproval of her pursuing dance, Y/n believes their learning of Jake’s endeavors resulted in them no longer coming to the country club if he and his family were there. They also never asked about him or worked with his mother despite being in the same field. It’s like they blamed Jake for Y/n not becoming what they wanted her to be: a doctor or a lawyer.

“She and my sis are settling in,” he gestured down the path he came, where several cabins were located. “We just got in about an hour ago.”

“How long are you guys here for?” The question came from Nat, who threw a look at Y/n.

Jake didn’t notice, “a couple weeks. Needed a break from the world—and Mr. Collins asked me to help him with this showcase he’s putting together.” Y/n raised her brow.

“Showcase?”

“It’s more for the youngins,” Jake explained. “He asked if I could help teach some dance lessons for those interested.” Though it physically hurt not to react, Y/n somehow managed to remain neutral. Even putting a semi-fake smile.

How come Mr. Collins didn’t ask her?

“Stop it,” the voice in her head said, “it’s not a competition and you know Jake would never be upset if the roles were reversed.”

“Wow, Jake, that's great!” She was happy for him. And scolded herself mentally for the childish thought she had. Jake was an exceptional dancer and a great teacher. Y/n had watched some of his YouTube videos in passing and had no doubt he could get the job done.

“Say if you have the time I’d be happy to have you join in,” he flashes a smile that would have any girl weak in the knees. “I’d say you’re more of an expert in certain areas that I’m not really well acquainted with.” Warmth fills her chest.

“I’d love to. Thank you, Jake.”

The second he departed Natasha was on Y/n. “Girl, if you do not hop on that—.”

“Natasha!”

“What?” She whispers shouts after being hushed, “you’re into him, he’s so into you,” Y/n’s expression is that of, ‘You’re delusional’. “Skip the previews and start the movie.” Now that was a metaphor Y/n had not heard before, but clever nonetheless.

“Jake and I have been friends for years,” Y/n brushed her off. “I am not going to risk ruining what we have because of some middle school crush.” The brunette rolls her eyes.

“But it’s not, ‘some middle school crush.’ You’ve had feelings for him for over decades now—which is a conversation for another day,” Y/n makes a sound of offense, but does not deny the woman. “It’s time to put on your big girl panties and get your man.”

She’s quiet for a moment, glancing to her feet, “What if it’s not meant to be. My family would never approve—.”

“Like you’ve let them dictate what you do in life.”

“My point is—,” Y/n cuts back, “I’ve already disappointed them with my career path. Call me naive or delusional, but I don’t want to have to deal with constantly being berated for my choice of partner. Jake is wonderful in every aspect, but what he does will just set my parents off again for another twenty years if by some miracle we start something up.”

Natasha sighs, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Sometimes you have to accept that parents are always going to have their opinions that are unchangeable. And you have to let go of the hope they’ll come around. Y/n, you’ve dealt with this since you were seventeen, maybe it’s time to distance yourself from it.”

“And if it all backfires and I end up alone?”

“You’ll never be alone,” she nudges her, “I’m here. And even if it all blows to hell, then at least you can say you tried.”

The next day Y/n found Jake at the little studio room the club used to teach waltz lessons. She was met with his gorgeous smile and an army of preteens in the middle of showing off who could do the best tik tok dance. “I see I’ve interrupted a very important matter.”

“None wanted to do the one I created,” he dramatically pouts, “saying it was too complicated.”

She laughed, “Well they’re not wrong.”

“Hey!”

For the next week, Y/n and Jake spent four hours a day--two in the morning and two in the afternoon--with the kids teaching them different styles of dance. Of course the crowd favored breakdancing, hip hop, modern, and vogue, but would request to watch Jake and Y/n perform routines they used to do back in the day. Swing was a popular one, as was quickstep and jive because of its upbeat and face paced. One day Jake busted out his tap dancing skills while Y/n displayed some ballet.

“How can a person do that?” a kid commented as she stood on revelé. Jake leaned down, whispering, “she’s secretly an alien from another planet.”

“C’mon I wanna show you something,” Jake grabs her hand one night after dinner. He leads her to a cabin not too far from the main resort where members of the staff have started a party. On the speakers were some 2000s hits that summed up the millennial crowd. Jake waved to some of the guys who ran group activities in the corner, Y/n spotted the culinary department at the food table. And if she were to glance at the door on the opposite end of the cabin, she’d see the housekeeping passing around an object containing a certain plant.

“What’s this?”

“The only place where the workers get to catch a break after spending all day with those uptight rich folks. They call it ‘Dirty Dancing’,” Y/n’s expression becomes amused, letting out a soft laugh.

“Like the 80s movie with Patrick Swayze?” Jake beams.

“The one and only,” taking her hand once more, he leads her to the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

To say the two became the life of the party was an understatement. Jake spun Y/n to the sound of her laughter and Elvis ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Jumping up and down with a crowd around them to Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything.”

“Tonight, I want all of you tonight,” They pointed to each other, “Give me everything tonight.” Y/n pointed to the girl beside her, “For all we know we might not get tomorrow. Let’s do it tonight.” Jake fist pumped with some guys around him, “Don’t care what they say, or what games they play. Nothing is enough, ‘til they handle love.” people in the back shouted “let’s do it tonight.”

“I want you tonight, I want you to stay,” Jake gave Y/n a look, “I want you tonight,” she squealed upon him pulling her toward him, “Grab somebody sexy tell ‘em hey.” the entire house exploded into the chorus. Everyone having the time of their lives, it felt like a scene from a movie.

Y/n pulled girls into the middle during Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies.’ Then they carried the party when ‘Year 3000’ by the Jonas Brothers came on. “He said, ‘I've been to the year 3000. Not much has changed, but they lived underwater. And your great-great-great-granddaughter is doing fine!”

Some staff who happened to be part of the New York Ballscene recognized Y/n, leading to a vogue battle to commence. “This is what I wanna see!”

Let’s just say….that was the moment Jake knew he was in love.

“‘Cause we are living in a material world. And I am a material girl,” The next morning Y/n was rudely awoken by her ringtone. “Hello,” her groggy voice answered, hearing Jake on the opposite end sounding equally as tired.

“Are you busy this afternoon in between lessons?”

“Not that I know of. What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with Collin,” his tone shifted to one she couldn’t decipher, “He’s asking if you and I would be interested in performing at the showcase.” Jolting from the bed, Y/n was fully awake.

“Come again.”

“You and me. Me and you,” Jake repeated, “we put on a little number for the finale.”

Fiddling with her pajama top, Y/n suddenly became nervous. The night before she was on Cloud 9 with the way Jake was looking at her. They danced the night away and those feelings she desperately tried to hide were slowly becoming difficult to keep down. “What did you have in mind?”

“Time of My Life, really?” The two were at the studio dressed in comfy attire they usually danced in. “Don’t you think that’s a little cliche.”

“I thought it was fitting,” the blonde rebutted. Jake suggested the two perform the iconic dance sequence at the end of the 80s classic. “What, you got something against it?”

She rolled her eyes, “Only that my parents blame my childhood obsession with it as the reason I didn’t follow their dreams for me.” Jake made a face.

“They’re still not over that?”

“Nope,” She popped the ‘p’. “In fact they still remind me every chance they get about it.”

Jake finished setting up the song loop, standing from his crouching position, “Well, let’s prove just how wrong they were when you blow their mind with your talent at the showcase.”

Between the giggles and constantly finding any moment to procrastinate, it was a miracle the two managed to choreograph a routine. It wasn’t an exact copy of the iconic dance Baby and Johnny performed, but they kept some elements in.

Including the lift.

“Jake, I don’t know about this,” Y/n shivered when her body hit the cold water, following him until their waists were submerged. The whole idea made her nervous. It was an intimidating maneuver.

Jake, however, did not show any sign of hesitation. “Worried I’d drop you?” he teased, “I thought you trusted me? We used to do this all the time as kids.”

“Exactly. I do trust you, but we’re not fifteen anymore. I’m not--,” he cut her off gently.

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” his look was soft but serious at the same time. “You have nothing to worry about. And besides, we’re out here taking precautions instead of being in the studio where if something did go wrong, we’re not as likely to end up in the ER.”

Sighing, Y/n rubbed her eyes. “Fine, let’s just get this over with, before I drown in embarrassment..”

About two and half hours of non-stop repetition of Jake lifting Y/n in the air passed. Sometimes he purposely lost footing so they both planted into the freezing lake water and other times he genuinely faltered. “Jake!”

“I’m sorry!” Thankfully at least one out of every ten attempts were a success. By that we’re talking they were able to hold the position for more than four seconds. “Okay, we’re done for the day.”

As the sun started to set, Jake climbed onto the dock before pulling Y/n up. “Thanks,” she took the towel he handed her, immediately squeezing the excess water from her hair. “Well that was fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, grabbing his towel. “I think we made some great progress. We’ll go through the whole routine tomorrow and see what needs adjustments.” The showcase was in just over a week, meaning they were crunching down on time.

“Sounds like a plan.” Stars painted the sky, the two eventually sitting on the dock with their towels wrapped around them. Soft music played from Jake’s speaker.

“How’s it been for you?” Jake was the one to break the silence, “thinking about it, we haven’t really got the chance to catch up. New York still treating you well?”

“Oh uh,” Y/n swallowed, unsure of how to answer without sounding too pessimistic. “It’s been alright. I’ve been teaching for the last two years.”

“A teacher you say? Where at?”

“Frank Sinatra School of Arts.” Jake’s smile grew.

“That’s amazing!” Butterflies erupted at his praise. “I’m happy for you, Y/n, really. You’re inspiring the next generation.”

“Thanks,” she looked away, unable to keep eye contact when her heart was beating so fast. ‘Geez, why am I like this? He’s making me feel like I’m fourteen again.’ “I’ve enjoyed it. My students were amazing.” Jake raised a curious brow.

“Are you not teaching anymore?”

Y/n bit her lip, “well, I haven’t renewed my contract for the upcoming school year yet,” she paused before adding, “I’m waiting to find out if I got a spot on this tour I auditioned for.” Now Jake was super curious. Lots of artists were touring that summer. The Jonas Brothers, Big Time Rush, Kesha, SZA, and of course the much anticipated Era’s and Renaissance tours of Taylor Swift and Beyonce.

And Jake was going to be involved in one.

“Is it okay if I ask which one?” his tone had an underlying hint of excitement at the thought the two might work together. Traveling across the country in what would be one of the best experiences in their lives.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, “something tells me you have a secret, Jake Seresin. Would you like to share with the class what’s on your mind?”

Scratching his head, Jake answered, “I’m not really supposed to say…..but,” she held her breath, releasing with a low gasp, “I’ll be touring with Taylor Swift.”

“Wow,” the woman was speechless, breaking into a massive grin. “I-uh, wow, Jake that’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he accepted her hug, not caring that their clothes were still damp. “I honestly didn’t believe I’d get it.” a playful slap landed on his arm.

“Please,” came her scoff, “You really thought Miss Americana herself would not see the talent in front of her?” Y/n mentally cheered in victory at the sight of his blush. “She’d be foolish to not have you as part of her time.”

“Okay okay,” he swatted her hands away with a chuckle. “Now answer my question.”

Once revealing who’s tour Y/n auditioned for, the two embarked on an hour long conversation about their careers and life. Jake mentioned how he had been in a relationship but it didn’t work out. Y/n vented on the ongoing emotional feud with her family--to which Jake told her, “It’s their loss for not seeing you the way the rest of the world does.”

Yeah, that made her melt.

By the end of the night there was a shift in the atmosphere. Both felt it, glancing away when they held eye contact longer than usually without a word passing by. They had suddenly become quiet, only the crickets singing through the trees.

“It’s getting late,” Y/n rushed out, moving to stand. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jake mirrored her movements. “Same time.” Heading back to the cabins their families were staying at, they arrived at Y/n’s first.

Opening her mouth to say goodnight and avoid an awkward moment, Y/n’s words paused upon seeing Jake’s expression, “You look troubled.”

“I--,” he began before stopping, causing Y/n’s nerves to rise. “It’s nothing.”

The dancer wasn’t having it, “No, no no,” she playfully raised a hand, “you can’t leave me hanging like that, Jake. I thought we were friends.” Suddenly it became quiet again. Next thing Y/n knew was Jake softly grabbing her hand.

“You know I adore you right?”

Her heart skipped, “Not really, but I do now,” the light chuckle was obviously embedded with nerves. “I adore you too.”

“And we’ve been….rather close for a long time.”

“Yes,” the word trailed off her tongue, somehow managing to hold the eye contact Jake was giving her. She was practically pinned where she stood.

“I realize this isn’t the best time or way to say this,” his cheeks become rosy, “but I’ve really enjoyed these past couple weeks catching up and being able to dance again like we used to. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bring back some feelings I tried to ignore for fear it would ruin what we have.”

Y/n couldn’t believe what was happening, “Bring back?” Did the man she secretly longed for since they were teenagers want her too? After all this time? She nearly pinched herself.

Jake looked away, bringing his other hand to scratch his neck. “Yeah. Look, I understand if you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry for dropping this on you but after the party I felt like my world was finally on its axis. You…” he struggles finding the right words, “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we could be. You’re my best friend, Y/n. And I view you as someone I wanna dance with till we’re old and gray.”

“Jake,” his name was the softest it had ever been coming out of her mouth. Here was the moment she had been dreaming about. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

His reaction was immediate, “You--you feel the same?” The tone was that of disbelief and hope. Heart pounding beneath his skin.

Y/n cupped his face in her hands, grinning ear to ear, “There is no one else in this world I’d rather dance with than you, Jake. I’ve felt this way about you for as long as I can remember.”

Not wasting a second longer, Jake leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Fireworks exploded between the two, the butterflies escaping their stomachs to swarm around them. Jake's lips were soft against hers, moving slowly as though to commit them to memory. When they pulled away, he kept his forehead against hers, “wow.”

She giggled, repeating, “wow.”

“Is this what Could 9 is supposed to feel like? Because I’m getting those vibes.”

Y/n threw her head back, laughing before covering her mouth when she remembered her family was asleep on the other side of the door, “You’re not the only one, hot shot. If this is what cloud 9 feels like then I never want to lose it.”

In the days following that magical night, the two continued their practice session. Perfecting the dance to where they didn’t even hear the music to be able to hit the steps right. When it came to the lift, however, Y/n was still worried of a disaster. Thankfully after several successful attempts at the studio she was able to let go of her doubt.

Plus she was tired of hearing Jake’s teasing.

Each night after parting ways that afternoon the two would meet up at the docks. Spending hours laying on the wood to watch the stars twinkle and talk about life. Then Jake would walk her back to the cabin, saying goodbye with a sweet kiss. With every minute they spent together, every dance, every kiss, both Jake and Y/n were falling more and more for each other.

One could go as far as to say it was love.

One could say they were having the time of their lives.

But of course what is life without a little drama? Y/n silently prayed drama would be avoided. Once in her life could things just be great? Without the everlying feeling of something going wrong?

Yeah, it was too good to be true.

“Jake!” a voice interrupted the peaceful morning, ripping the two apart from their kiss. They had gone for a jog together that morning around the lake, stopping at their usual spot of the docks before heading to the studio to practice for the night's event. Turning to the direction of the voice, Y/n’s eyes landed on a fiery redhead storming up the path. Her attention was on the man beside her, not hiding the obvious fact she was furious. “Who the hell is that?”

“Tatiana?” Jake’s tone was of shock and confusion. He let go of Y/n’s face he had been cradling, but kept a firm touch on her arm. “W-what are you--.”

“Is it so much to ask for you to answer your phone?” stopping in front of the two, her blazing hazel eyes locked on Y/n. “Who are you? And why the fuck were you making out with my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” she stammered, glacing at Jake who now looked pissed off. ‘He’s had a girlfriend this whole time?”

“I haven’t been your boyfriend since December, Tatiana,” he raised a pointed finger, casting a look to Y/n with pleading eyes that he was telling the truth. “We’ve been broken up for a while now.” he turned back to his ex, “You made that clear to me when you had me choose between the career I’ve spent decades building and you.”

There was anger in his tone, not pleased with her claims. Y/n didn’t know what to believe, all she could feel was a weight clamping down on her shoulder.

“Oh really,” removing her phone from her back pocket, Tatiana tapped the screen a few times before pushing it in Y/n’s face, “Does that seem like it to you.” Leaning forward, Y/n gulped at the sight of text messages indicating Jake and Tatianna had been in contact a few months prior. From the looks of it, Tatiana was hoping the two could pick up where they left off and Jake replying, ‘I’ll think about it,’ then it was silent until this past week where Tatiana sent texts asking when they could meet up. Jake, however, responded it wasn’t a good time and believed the two should stay friends.

“Y/n,” Jake started, glancing back between her and Tatiana, which only made her more perplexed. Unable to decipher what he was thinking. “Just please, wait right here.” He gently squeezed her arm, brushing their fingers together as he let go. Then before she could say anything, Y/n watched Jake gently escort Tatiana away from the docks. They went a good distance away to where Y/n was unable to hear the two. With Jake’s back to her, Y/n’s view was of the red head’s angry expression as she pushed her finger into Jake’s chest.

She saw him gently raise his hands, stepping away to escalate the situation. Y/n’s head spun, feeling a wave of nausea and the woman grabbed her water bottle from the ground. In a fast pace, Y/n stepped off the dock and onto the path leading back to the clubhouse. Once a distance away she broke out into a run, unaware if Jake saw her leave considering his back was to her. This was confirmed when she didn’t hear him call out for her.

Sprinting past the clubhouse, Y/n made a beeline for her cabin. Throwing the door open she moved past the living room not caring if anyone was there and straight to her bedroom where she locked the door behind her, pressing her back against it and sliding down to the floor to finally catch her breath.

Her water bottle had been drained, sweat coating her forehead and tears threatening to spill. Covering her mouth, Y/n refused to let the sob forming in her throat to release. There was no time to let her heartbreak. Not when the showcase was fast approaching.

The showcase.

“Fuck,” she sniffed, kicking off her shoes in the process. Of course it had to be that day all blows to hell. The perfect world she thought she finally obtained crashing down.

Of course she was being dramatic. Her life was shy from perfect, and this was another dent in the walls she tried to build.

She kept thinking of Jake. Willing herself to not jump to conclusions. He was clearly taken aback by Tatiana’s appearance. Even more when she called herself his girlfriend. Jake appeared rather offended by the accusation they were still together. Bottom line of the story: there was tension--especially animosity--between them, unfinished business if Y/n had to guess.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t bear to witness it. Right now she needs to think with a blank mind. And with Jake already spamming her phone, the solution for peace and quiet was to turn off her phone. Going as far as to power off her apple watch and not have music play while she showered.

The tears slowly cascaded while Y/n stood beneath the water. It was eerie with the silence, but it assisted with the clearing of her thoughts. Once clean Y/n dressed in comfy clothes and decided to nap for the remainder of the day. The morning had drained her, and until it came time to get ready for her dance with Jake--which she already dreaded--Y/n willed herself to sleep imagining what the day had been if his ex had never stepped foot on the docks.

“Need some help?” Y/n jumped, the hair clip falling from her hand. In the mirror she found Nat staring back at her with a sympathetic smile. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Thanks,” she picked up the clip, holding up for Nat, who took it in her hand and stood behind Y/n. Gathering her hair up, Nat styled it in a messy but pretty updo.

“You seem tense for someone so used to the spotlight by now.”

A frown appeared, “It’s always nerve racking going on stage in front of people no matter how long you’ve done it.” Nat wasn’t buying it.

“Wanna talk about it? I know it’s more than a few nerves rustling your feathers, Y/n.”

Biting her lip, the dancer shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be, Nat. Simple as that.” Sadness washed over her for the millionth time since that morning. She hasn’t seen Jake since, only replying to his several texts after a dozen unanswered calls to confirm she would still do the showcase.

Although part of her thought about backing out.

“What exactly happened?” Nat softly asked, moving to now help Y/n on her makeup. She was going for a simple look so she lightly concealed, blushed, highlighted and added some minimal eye makeup.

“Everything felt so amazing” she started, looking up as Nat dabbed the beauty blender under her eyes. “After we did the lift at the lake, we talked for hours on the dock and when he walked me back to the cabin….he told me how he felt about me,” Y/n could still feel the tingles on her lips, “and we kissed.”

Nat withheld squealing, knowing it was a bad moment considering it didn’t end the way she hoped for her best friend. Now she was conspiring on how to get payback on Jake. Filled with sudden disdain.

“The next few days went by--like I was walking on cloud 9. The way he looked at me, Nat,” Y/n connected their eyes, “It was magical.” Nat brushed powder onto her cheeks, followed by light blush and highlighter.

“And then what happened.”

Y/n’s shoulders dropped, making her slouch, “Jake’s ex showed up this morning.” Nat’s hand froze, a second passing before continuing its movement. “They broke up last year, but I guess they were in the works of getting back together. Because she was very vocal about it--not shy of asking who the fuck I was and why was I with her boyfriend.”

“And what was Jake’s reaction?”

Y/n waited until after Nat finished sweeping a thin coat of eyeliner to answer, “He denied it--was very shocked when she showed up out of the blue. Said that she ended things because he refused to choose her over his career. Then she went on about how they were talking things out--that a few months ago he said he’d think about it.” Y/n thought back to the texts, “She showed me the messages from this week. He rejected her invite to meet up and said that they should remain friends. Then he pulled her aside to talk where I couldn’t hear. I sorta left after that.”

Nat grabbed the mascara, “You didn’t wait for him to explain?”

“Could you blame me?” Y/n rebutted, a little on the defense but not saying it in a mean tone. “I was dealing with a hundred emotions. Confusion, embarrassment, shame, sadness, anger. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell. But the only thing I could do was shut down and walk away.”

Nat said nothing, spraying Y/n’s face with a setting mist before handing her the tube of her favorite lipstick.

“I know,” Y/n groans, “I should’ve stayed--to at least hear him out. But I didn’t want to face the humiliation if it were true.”

“And if it’s not true?” Nat suggested, “What if he was genuine and they really are done? Where does that leave you two?”

Blotting the color onto her lips, Y/n capped the tube and threw it into her makeup bag with a shug, “I don’t know, Nat. We’ll find out tonight I guess.” Taking one last glance in the mirror, she added, “That’s if he shows up--which I doubt he won’t. He wouldn’t want to let Collins down.” leaning back in the char, Y/n turns to her friend. “Thanks for the hair and makeup.”

Nat patted her shoulder, “anytime. You look beautiful. That dress was made for you.” Y/n bore a light pink dress with a flowy skirt and corset styled top. It was similar to the one Baby wore in Dirty Dancing, ironically enough, but unique in its own way. She paired it with simple dance shoes.

“Thank you, Nat.”

A thought suddenly came to the brunette, “Hey, did you ever hear back from that audition?”

There was no hiding her grin, Y/n looked like a child having just received a gift from Santa, “I got a call back. They’re having me fly to L.A. next week to dance for them again.” Nat jumped from her seat, squealing and pulling the woman into a hug.

“Ah that’s amazing! Congratulations--I’m so so happy for you!!”

“Thank you,” Nat’s happiness was contagious, making Y/n giggle as they swayed side to side. “I can’t believe I’m so close.”

“I knew you’d get it,” Nat maveled, playfully pinching Y/n’s side making her swat at her hand.

The happy moment was interrupted right on cue as Mr. Collins rushed in. “There you are!” He was frantic, clipboard in hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you seen Mr. Seresin?” Y/n’s heart dropped.

“No,” was her response, heat coating her skin. “I thought he was here already.” Collins took a peek at his watch, groaning in annoyance.

“You guys are the last ones so that gives me hope he’s just running late,” Motioning for Y/n to follow him, the man leads the two out of the makeshift dressing room. “You’ll wait by the end of the side stage while the other performers have their turn. Then I’ll announce--hopefully both of you--and we’ll call this showcase a success. Which by the way,” he spins around, stopping Y/n in her tracks, “Do you happen to have a backup plan by any chance if our friend decides to be a no-show?”

Y/n stuttered lightly, hands up in a ‘Not really?’ She goes, “I mean I can whip something up--Not to toot my own horn but I’m pretty good at what I do and will dance to any music you give me.”

“Fantastic,” Collins snaps his finger, “We’ll work with that.” Spinning back again, Collins high tails it to the stage, Y/n taking claim to a chair a few paces from the steps. She spotted Nat seated with her family, Y/n’s own folks at a table in the far back. Almost like they were hiding from the rest of the guests, causing her heart to sink further.

Collins opened the showcase with an animated greeting to the audience. After some announcements and thanks to staff and sponsors who helped put the showcase together, he introduced the first of 10 performers on the list. Nearly all were the teens and children Y/n taught with Jake, the woman standing from her chair to cheer them on. At the eighth performance she froze at the sight of the blonde man behind the curtain. He hadn’t seen her yet, so Y/n ducked back to her chair, peeking slightly to find him conversing with Collins.

‘Well looks like I’m not getting out of this one,’ she thought to herself.

When the second to last performer appeared, Y/n found Nat in the audience. The two shared a look, Nat able to see the unease seeping off Y/n, and throwing her thumbs up in hopes to relieve some of it. The (y/h/c) shook her head slightly, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless with a small smile.

Mr. Collins glides to the stage one final time, “And now,” a quick glance to his clipboard, then to the side of the stage opposite of Y/n, a smile curling on his lips. “We have a very special presentation from two people who were kind enough to help me put this whole shabang together,” raising a hand out he announces, “Please welcome the beautiful and ever so talented, here to bring you the time of your life, Jake Seresin and Y/n L/n!!”

There was a light applause from the adults overshadowed by the children, teens, staff members, and Natasha. Y/n’s parents were unreactive, glancing at her siblings wondering if they knew to which they received shrugs.

Still sitting in a chair just off the stage, not moving despite the lights flashing on her, Y/n’s head was down. The door was not far. She could easily make an escape. But she felt eyes on from those within view and felt trapped. To run now would be a lifetime of embarrassment and shame.

“C’mon, Y/n,” she scolded under her breath. “It’s just one dance.” "Then you can go back to New York and pray this whole thing never happened.”

As the thought left her mind, footsteps came toward her, and Y/n glanced up to find Jake, dressed in black slacks and buttoned down enough to make a girl weak in the knees, staring down at her with an expression that took her breath away. It was as though they were the only two in the room, much like in the studio. Everyone else simply disappeared. Leaving two people who danced around feelings for years only to come together at that very moment.

Whatever hostility Y/n had for Jake was gone. She saw the pure love in his eyes. Pleading with her to give him a chance.

Simply holding his hand out to her, Jake held her gaze and spoke clearly for everyone to hear, “Nobody puts Y/n in a corner.” Had her heart not been beating at 100 miles per second, Y/n would’ve laughed at the reference. Considering how fitting it was to their situation.

The beginning lyrics of the song echoed as Jake led her to the middle of the stage. Already igniting applause from the audience who recognized it. “Now I’ve had the time of my life.” An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her to him. Never once straying eye contact “No, I’ve never felt this way before.” Y/n dipped back, Jake keeping her from falling to the floor until she was upright, “Yes I swear, It’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

“‘Cause I’ve,” Jake came around to her left, Y/n bringing up a hand which his own followed the trail of her arm. She caressed the side of his face. His group of friends hooting and hollering, “had the time of my life. And I owe it all to you.” A gentle kiss was placed on her nose.

Cheers from their students erupted when Jake spun Y/n, bringing a smile to both their faces as they began their routine. “I’ve been waiting for so long. Now I’ve finally found someone to stand by me.” Natasha whistled from her seat, “Yeah!”

“We saw the writing on the wall. As we felt this magical fantasy.”

All through the dance Y/n never once stopped grinning. Jake’s aura, the nostalgia of the song, and the love she had for dance were contagious. “Now with passion in our eyes, there’s no way we could disguise it secretly.” Unbeknownst to the woman, her parents and siblings were watching in awe. Having been the first time they truly watched her perform. “So we take each other’s hands,” Jake spun her again, Y/n throwing her arms in the air, head swaying back and forth. “‘Cause we seem to understand the urgency.”

“Just remember,” the pace picked up. “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” Y/n was lifted, dress flowing as Jake twirled them in circles. The audience applauded with glee.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before.” The cheers heightened when the two pressed against each other, the sight very intimate. “Yes, I swear, it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Jake snuck a kiss to her cheek, moving away to leap off the stage. “Hey, baby!” Y/n tilted her head back in laughter, fingers on the hem of her dress skirt and swaying to the beat.

“With my body and soul, I want you more than you’ll ever know. So we’ll just let it go, don’t be afraid to lose control, no.” It was Jake’s moment to shine. He fed off the energy of the crowd, winking at his boys in the back hyping him up. Y/n caught Natasha’s thumbs up, the two sharing a silent victory. “Yes I know what’s on your mind. When you say, ‘Stay with me tonight’.”

“Stay with me. Just remember,” Jake danced up and down the aisle, “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” locking eyes, they gave each other a nod. “This could be love,” staff helped Y/n off the stage, the woman bolting toward Jake, “because--.” Squeezing every muscle in her body, Y/n exhaled in relief as she was successfully lifted in the air.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I’ve never felt this way before.” It was a spectacular scene around them with everyone jumping from their seats, in awe of what they were witnessing. “Yes, I swear (yes I swear), it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

Y/n giggled the whole way down, arms sliding over Jake’s shoulder who shared her happiness. “‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door,” Several people joined in the celebration. Spouses dancing together, children off beat but having the time of their life like the song called for. “‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Even Y/n’s parents managed to get on their feet.

Finally seeing their daughter for who she was.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, the first words spoken between the two. It made her heart skip, filled with an overwhelming surge of happiness.

“I feel like I’m on cloud 9,” the response had Jake chuckle, pulling her closer to him as he voiced, “me too, doll.”

They kept their gaze on one another, swaying chest to chest, the tune became softer, “Now I’ve had the time of my life. No I never felt this way before (never felt this way),” Jake’s hand caressed her cheek, Y/n leaning into it. “Yes, I swear, It’s the truth (It’s the truth),” the two leaned in at the same time, Bill Medley’s voice belting the final lyric of the bridge, “And I owe it all to you!”

The kiss set off a million fireworks. Just like it did the first time. They didn’t know if the cheers around them were intended for the two, but they didn’t stop the kiss to find out. Y/n’s hand covering Jake’s on her face, brushing her fingers over his knuckles, “I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before (never felt this way). Yes, I swear, it’s the truth (it’s the truth). And I owe it all to you.” Pulling away, Jake’s touch remained.

“Be my dance partner,” were his words, pushing through the ending chorus. ‘Be mine,’ “Forever.”

“‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door.”

Y/n brushed her lips against his. Uttering nothing more than a simple, “Yes.”

“‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you…”

…………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris @kmc1989

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

the swan and her princess (part 2)

summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of Odette.

chapter summary: A pleasant surprise turns out to be possibly not so pleasant after all.

pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader [aka some sort of a messy Ballet!AU]

word count: 2695

warnings: cussing, ballet terms, creative liberties taken since I’ve never been to Lincoln Center and the research I’ve done may or may not be fully accurate

a/n: :D got a little carried away with this one whoops doing this is much harder than i expected this au is taking up my entire brain pls help

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 (pending)

glossary:

Barre: A handrail used by ballet dancers to maintain balance while exercising. One hand is placed on the barre at all times, and the dancer stands beside it.

Kitri: The feisty and wilful heroine of the ballet Don Quixote. When her father Lorenzo tries to marry her off for money, she doesn’t play the victim, but hatches a plan to marry Basilio, the charming barber who has won her heart, and pursue her own version of happiness. As a dancer’s role, Kitri is athletic and demanding. Kitri wears striking red costumes (look them up, they’re really beautiful) and gestures expressively with a fan in a nod to her Spanish heritage.

Don Quixote: Don Quixote is a ballet in three acts, based on episodes taken from the famous novel Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes.

Kurta: A loose collarless shirt/dress of a type worn by people in South Asia, usually with a salwar, churidars, or pyjama.

Dupatta: A length of material arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez. Usually worn by women from South Asia.

Right after you set foot in the studio and dropped your bag in the corner, you made a beeline for the cacophonous, eagerly buzzing crowd that had formed around the cast list.

You saw a familiar duffel bag and raised your eyebrows slightly. Surprisingly, Gwen had showed up on time. Miracles really did exist.

Murmurs of disappointment and cheers of satisfaction rippled through the dancers in the room as they dispersed one by one, either wearing an expression of genuine excitement or a mask of disguised regret that they hadn’t tried harder or trained longer.

You pushed your way to the front, your eyes immediately darting to the name next to Odette. Your heart sank as you traced over the curly loops and sharper lines of the handwritten letters.

White Swan/Princess Odette : Patricia Roberts.

Pat…?

Sure, she was good, but she was always a little bit too fast for the pieces. She was brilliant at lightning-quick steps in speedy variations, but couldn’t ‘dance like a flowy fairy’, as your ballet teacher said, to save her life.

And the White Swan was all about being slow and sad and graceful.

Your eyes travelled further down the list, going through the roles of Odile, the cygnets, the general swans, and the royals. Each time, you were disappointed. By the time you reached the end of the list, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious. Your name just… wasn’t there.

You were a part of this, right?

The entire class was taking part in this production. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to not be there. Even if it was just as a regular background swan.

“Can’t find your name either, huh?”

You hadn’t noticed that everyone else had broken off into excitedly chattering groups to start warming up and take their places at the barre, leaving only you and Gwen standing and craning your necks up at the piece of paper that seemed to decide your fate in the studio for the next few months.

You shook your head no, earning a sigh from Gwen that lasted longer than it probably should have.

“Well, we could ask Miss Walker, but she’s not here yet. So…” She shifted awkwardly beside you. You tried to observe her from your peripheral vision without being too obvious. She sounded… tired. Exhausted, really, like she hadn’t slept in a few days and then had to run a marathon around the city. She had done a pretty shoddy job of concealing the heavy dark circles under her eyes — which truly was saying something, because her makeup was usually immaculate.

Fuck. You couldn’t believe it, but for a moment you almost felt sorry for her. Well, maybe not just almost.

“Hey, uh… you good?” You winced at your attempt at a nonchalant tone. Gwen turned to look at you like you had sprouted a third head, slight confusion reflecting in her eyes.

You had never noticed them before, but she had nice eyes, honestly. The expressive kind that could show every little shift in her emotions if she didn’t hide it. And right now she looked like she was about to grin or crack a joke, so you fixed a scowl on your face to ward off any amusing thing she might have been gearing up to say.

The smile in her eyes faded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Time to poke the bee’s nest. “You don’t sound—”

You were cut off as the studio doors flew open, and Miss Walker, looking extremely hassled, practically sprinted in. Random strands of hair poked out of her unusually-untidy bun, and her glasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose. She held her phone in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Class, pointes on and everyone to the barre right now, please! Finish your second warmup, I’ll be right with you. Gwendolyn, Y/N, may I have a word with the two of you?”

We’re in trouble, mouthed Gwen with a comically scared, wide-eyed, completely exaggerated expression that was very childish and definitely should not have made you want to laugh. You bit the inside of your cheek to clamp down on your smile.

Your ballet teacher led you both over to a corner of the studio, adjusting her glasses right as they were about to fall off. “Okay, so I have some very good news for both of you. You might have noticed that your names weren’t on the final cast list at all, correct?”

You both nodded.

“As it turns out, you’ve been selected by the School of American Ballet to feature in New York City Ballet’s version of Swan Lake! And not selected for just any role — you girls are playing both Swans!”

The words took a few seconds to register in your mind. The sheer improbability of it all was phenomenal — two mere teenagers chosen to perform by the most prestigious ballet company in the world, to dance alongside some of the best professional ballerinas-in-the-making? This was a dream come true; was any of this real?

“You’re joking,” you heard Gwen say beside you. You felt like you were about to lift off and float all the way to the sky when your teacher just gave a broad, proud smile.

Everything after that was surrounded by a hazy glow of euphoric shock — blurred by excitement and lightheadedness and disbelief. You might’ve blacked out at one point, bracing yourself against the wall while you waited for your vision to clear.

Gwen suddenly narrowed her eyes in a wince, squinting as if she had a headache. “I’m so sorry, I have to go,” She mumbled hastily, before grabbing her bag and slipping out of the studio. And just like that, she was gone. Again.

You and Miss Walker exchanged a look of slight confusion, but she shrugged. “Well, you’re dismissed for today, Y/N. They’re expecting you tomorrow. You know where the company is, right?”

“Yes, miss.” Of course you did, which ballerina didn’t? Of all the best aspiring ballet dancers’ dream companies, New York City Ballet was right up there with The Royal Ballet in London, Paris Opera Ballet in France, and the Australian Ballet in Melbourne. In other words: this was a giant fucking deal and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You’d have to be beyond idiotic to blow it off.

You arrived at Lincoln Center (which housed the New York City Ballet), fresh-faced and a few minutes early. Well, maybe not so fresh-faced, since you could barely sleep because of nerves. Throughout the night, what felt like a million thoughts that were all variations of what if I’m not good enough? and maybe I’m not cut out for this plagued you well into the early hours of the morning.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Gwen, looking annoyingly (and most probably effortlessly) put-together and honestly quite fashionable. Did she have to have such perfect eyeliner? Even her hair tips seemed pinker than usual.

“Wow, you’re early for once,” You tried to load snark into your tone but failed miserably, earning you an insufferably relaxed chuckle from Gwen.

You shook your head and focused on trying to find the ballet company’s actual studio. Lincoln Center was comprised of a complex of buildings in a giant neighbourhood that you had never been in before, and the David H. Koch Theater which housed the New York City Ballet was just one of those many buildings spread over 16.3 acres.

You were lucky you two had arrived early, because it took you ten whole minutes trying to find the theater - because, as it turns out, you and Gwen had entered from a separate entrance from the main one. Finally you entered the studio, and for a while the only sounds were that of your shoes squeaking on the shiny wooden floors.

Something that struck you was just how big everything about it was.

The light fixtures that lined the walls cast yellow light all along the hallway, illuminating everything with a soft glow the colour of honeyed amber. Just walking that corridor made you feel like you were approaching a royal ballroom, floating around in a gown that could put Kitri’s costume from Don Quixote to shame.

You finally saw the door to the studio. Someone was waiting outside — a man in an all-black suit with close-cropped black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. His face broke into a smile as he saw you and Gwen, and without waiting for you to fully make it to the door, he strode forward and clasped your hand.

“Welcome to New York City Ballet! I’m Carlos, the resident choreographer of this company. We’ve been expecting you! Your teacher has informed you of the production we are working on, yes?” He rattled all of this off at full speed in clipped, staccato pronunciations, so fast that it took you a second to register what he was saying.

“Swan Lake, right?” Gwen answered for you.

“Yes, yes. I assume you both know the combinations for both swans?” You nodded maybe a little too eagerly, eliciting a subtle eyebrow-raise from Carlos. “Very good. Come, I will introduce you to Shaoni. She is our support staff, and a former ballet mistress. She taught many young dancers who went on to become famous prima ballerinas. Don’t take her words too seriously; her bark is worse than her bite.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile and pushed open the double doors. Immediately the first thing you saw was a woman wearing a blue kurta with a gold-trimmed dupatta, her dark hair pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck. The thing that stood out most about her was her highly displeased scowl that had her looking like someone had insulted her entire bloodline three times over, spat in her face and then wrecked her favourite tutu.

Forget a simple resting bitch face, this was a prime, next-level display of an I’m-done-with-this-shit-and-I-need-a-vacation expression.

“Good morning, girls. My name is Shaoni Lahiri, you will address me as Miss Lahiri. You’re a bit early; please begin your warmup while we wait for the others. Also, our artistic director wanted to talk to you about your first day, so once he arrives meet him in his office.” Miss Lahiri had just finished her introductory monologue when her phone buzzed in her pocket with a notification.

Her eyes swiped over the lockscreen for a brief second before she tucked it away again, and you could’ve sworn you saw her roll her eyes slightly when she saw the name of the messager. “Mr. Osborn will see you now. The door to his office is in the far left corner of the studio. Try not to get lost, will you?” Even her sarcasm sounded effortlessly annoyed beyond relief.

And just like that, she abandoned you and went over to compare choreography notes with Carlos.

You turned and followed her directions, noticing a polished wooden door near the end wall of the studio. “Hey, wait for me!” Gwen had been busy gawking at the studio and, really, you couldn’t quite blame her. It truly was something else compared to the much smaller one you were used to.

You knocked once and pushed open the door once you heard a voice call out, “Come in!”

The moment the door swung open, you were immediately blinded by the brightest white light you had ever seen. The entire office looked like it had been bleached to within an inch of its life; there were no specks of dust to be seen and everything was neatly arranged in cupboards and on shelves.

“Oh, hello there!” Once your eyes had readjusted, you noticed a man with greying red-brown hair in a crisp suit with a green pinstripe jacket, an orange vest, and black pants. He sat with his hands clasped neatly on the lacquered teakwood desk in front of him, wearing a polite smile.

“You must be the new arrivals, yes? Let’s see, what are your names…” He opened a folder that had been pushed to one side of the desk, flicking through pages. “Gwen Stacy and Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s us,” You answered quickly, feeling slightly giddy with excitement as the truth sunk in properly. This wasn’t a dream, you had really been selected by the fucking New York City Ballet. You would be working alongside some of the best ballet dancers in the area. Better yet, you had more than a fair chance at dancing Odette. Of course, so did Gwen, but you were obviously the better choice… it wasn’t personal, really, just that she barely attended a full class and therefore should probably dance Odile instead.

“Excellent, excellent. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Norman Osborn, the artistic director of this company.” He stood up and shook your hand. He smiled at Gwen, but instead of smiling back, she just dropped her gaze, inhaling sharply as if she had been stung.

“Something’s not right with him,” She murmured to you the moment Mr. Osborn turned his back to retrieve a folder from his filing cabinet. “I can’t explain it, just… please trust me. I think he’s going to be a threat to us.”

You felt annoyance flare up inside you, white-hot maelstroms of anger expanding by the second. “Please excuse us, Mr. Osborn. Gwen and I need to discuss something.” You tried to sound as inconspicuous and well-mannered as you could. You grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and pulled her through the door, closing it behind you.

“Listen here,” You hissed, letting go of her. “I didn’t make it all this way and train for an extra four hours a day for three years just so you could blow this off. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re some sort of a package deal. So don’t you dare make up stuff and tell me this perfectly polite man is a threat. Is this some sort of scheme? You make me get cold feet, pretend like you’re dropping out, then when you convince me to leave the company you swoop in and snatch up the role of Odette? Is that what you’re playing at?”

Gwen stared at you in utter disbelief, rubbing her shoulder where your grip had tightened just a little too much. “What? No, of course not. I would never—”

“Okay, good. Now let’s get back in there and do whatever the hell he wants us to do, because this is the New York City Ballet and we are not leaving till we’re done with this production, got it?”

For a split second, intense desperation marred her features and she looked like she was about to cry. Then, just as quickly as it had come, all the vulnerability displayed on her face disappeared — but not from her eyes. Her mouth and eyebrows were relaxed, cool, but her eyes shone with a feverish light that made her look a bit manic. Finally she took a deep breath and glared levelly at you.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Something about her tone would have sent a shiver down your spine if you hadn’t been so pumped up about this whole ordeal. You dismissed it easily, penning it, possibly, as the sullen disappointment of a plotter whose evil scheme hadn’t gone quite according to plan.

You entered the office again, Gwen trailing behind you reluctantly, and gave Mr. Osborn a big smile. “You were saying?”

He passed you and Gwen two sheets of paper and a pen. “Sign this. It’s a contract that officialises your stay at this company for the duration of this production.”

You signed it eagerly. Gwen, who was studying the words intently, noticed your impatience and signed it too.

“Perfect,” said Norman Osborn, giving you a big smile. Was it just you, or did it look more plastic this time…?

Nope, definitely just you. He carefully filed the sheets away and clasped your hand in a handshake once again. “Welcome to New York City Ballet. I’m sure this contract will prove to be beneficial to the both of us.”

Gwen dropped her eyes to the floor. Probably just her odd headaches acting up again.

Taglist:

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @theprismyyy

[blackfangedreaper]

I can’t tell if request are open but could I request luffy reacting to his s/o dancing on stage with this song and dance cover (https://youtu.be/qnPTDEaP9Hw ) ? + marines are watching too if u can do that

HE KNOWS

Pairings: Monster trio + Aokiji, koby, shanks and mihawk x dancer!y/n

Warning: fluff, suggestive themes, cursing, grammatical errors. MDNI.

Tags: @closet-degenerate @h3rfave @iin0va @avaricious-hoe @audreys-works @444katsuki

Note: loved the idea nonna and yes my requests are open.

LUFFY

The sparkles in his eyes as he watched you twirl, drop then swing your hair, you looked so good dancing up there, so good he didn't know if he wanted to join you or let you be. Nami pulled him by his ears when he got too close to the stage unconsciously, too hypnotised by your moves to notice.

Couldn't resist trying to go closer once again to the stage to see you more. His jaw dropping when you dropped to a split. His pupils shaking at your sensual movements swallowing thickly when you blew a kiss at him. He loved it every second of it.

His eyes drooping slightly taking a halflidded form at the way you swung your hips, hunger present in his eyes as he maintained eye contact with you all through. He wanted something and you'll give it to him,- "Hey, do the thing you did with your waist on stage!" -He knows.

ZORO

His gaze trailed all over your body as you danced in those thigh high 4 inched heels, the ones you dragged him out to buy with you. And they fit you so well, the leather sticking to the skin of your thighs perfectly.

His pants tighening as your ass hung in the air for a moment, your movements were so sensual, it drove him crazy. He couldn't wait to get you alone, maybe you'll give him a private dance, on his dick that is.

He couldn't take his halflidded eyes off you, swinging his head back to finish his booze before relaxing on the chair, his arms over the couch, legs manspread and head tilted a little to rest on the couch. His eyes on you just like you wanted it- "Greedy little thing, look how you're sucking me in." -He knows.

SANJI

This one was on the brink of passing out but he had to stay awake, he had to. Just watching you swing your hips to the beat of the song had blood flowing out through his nose in spurts.

Tears in his eyes as you winked at him, his nose stuffed with tissues and cheering a muffled. ''Y/n-chwan". His eyes wide open as not to miss a single moment. His eyes almost rolled back when your ass hung up in the air.

God knows he's horny and he's not too proud to beg after your little dance he'll show you the bed then after, breakfast in bed. You'll just love what he has planned,- "Hm? Faster? Whatever you want sweetheart." -He knows.

AOKIJI

Was very flustered although not visibly. He was trying to play it cool, but his eyes were erratic behind his shades. Whistling when your ass jiggled in those short shorts or when your boobs bounced in your crop top.

Tapped his feet steadily to beat as he watched you twirl on the floor before getting up slowly, his normally cold body heating up at your halflidded stare.

All that cake and he couldn't wait to give you some filling and with the look you had on your face you wanted him to hit it till you lose all feeling,- "Ah... What mess, what's the point of filling you up if you'll just pour it back out." -He knows.

KOBY

Would have passed out if helmoppo hadn't held him steady, he's seen you dance before infact he watches you dance all the time but this somehow feels different watching you dance all so sexy especially in those clothes, it stirs up something in him.

From the moment you turned around he knew what you were doing, watching you back it up then drop it down. All eyes were on you and he wasn't gonna lie you've got him watching too.

Using his marine uniform to fan himself a little, was it him or it was hot. Either way he was sure it was you, the way you smirked at him you wanted something from him and what exactly do you want?- "Pl-Please, don't tease!" -He knows.

SHANKS

Kept smirking with an obvious blush on his face. No way was he going to let you get away with teasing him like that. Just look at you, dancing so sexy and even in sexier clothing, if you think he'll let you down slowly you've got another thing coming.

Teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he watched you dip and twirl. A little 'fuck' escaping his mouth as his eyes followed the way you caressed your body. Groaning when you smiled suggestively at him reminding him of your earlier statement.

"Shanks, I'll be back after this one song, then you're taking me home." You winked before leaving him with a kiss on the cheek as you swayed all the way up the stage. The smirk on his face never dropping as he thought of all the things he'd do to you tonight and only- "Hahah! Not so bold now huh?!" -He knows.

MIHAWK

He smiled into his wine cup, sipping the drink as he eyed your movements. He leaned back into the bar stool groaning when you dropped it down and whined, you were going to be the death of him.

His attention on you and noone else, watching it bounce as you danced, the way you licked your lips to tease not only him but the others in the crowd. Chuckling a little when you smiled innocently in his direction, well aren't you cute.

The atmosphere, the clothes, the bloody song, it was all you, you knew the attention it brought but to be honest he wasn't all that surprised he knows you love the attention that you get when you move and You know,- "Eager Eager, a little patience won't hurt, querido [darling]." -He knows.

[elliesmainhoe]

hi there !!! i was wondering if i could request ellie x hip-hop dancer! reader ??? i’ve been seeing all these ballerina reader fics and they’re great! but as a hip-hop dancer my soul needs to know how ellie would react to a hip-hop dancer reader 🤌🏻🤌🏻

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Hip-Hop Dancer!Reader

She is in AWE of you

Comes to your practices every once in a while and just sits there, watching you dance (she looks flabbergasted)

Like how is your body doing that?????

Is very impressed.

Dancing is your life. And Ellie wants to be apart of it.

So you try and teach her how to dance...

Bad idea. She has two left feet.

Maybe this wasn't the smartest thing to do. I mean teaching Ellie to dance, ESPECIALLY to a fast tempo beat was always gonna be a gamble. But this? This was just on another level.

"No babe. Place your feet like this. No- no like this" you say demonstrating the footwork.

Ellie tried to copy you, her feet stumbling- she was okay at best.

"Like this?"

"uhmmmm yeah, sure. Well done"

LOVES your dance outfits. Your hot as fuck.

Is unashamedly checking out your ass when your dancing.

Whenever you post dance practices on social media- this bitch is the first to comment.

Her comments are very cringy.

Hits you with the '🔥🔥🔥' or the classic 'damn that ass tho'

You swiftly reply with 'shut up' (affectionately)

The flips, the tricks, the spins. She's panting like a bitch in heat for you lmao

You:

*attached 1 video*

Look I finally did it!!!!!😭

Ellie:

How tf is that actually humanely possible.

I'm sending this to Dina. My girlfriend just casually defied the rules of physics.

Your so hyper!

Literally the energizer bunny on crack.

Thinks it's adorable how you bounce around everywhere.

It's a beautiful combination of three cups of coffee and an almost lethal dose of sugar.

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Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @prettypeoniesx @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647

Join my taglist here

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Jake's Destiny: New Client

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader Summary: Jake has finally reached his breaking point and just needs a distraction, even for just an hour. Which is how he finds himself at The Hard Deck Gentlemen's Club. But while he expects this to be just a one-time thing, everything changes when Destiny walks through his door. Word Count: 4855 TW: Grinding, Light Thigh Riding, Stress, Panic Attack, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Strip Club, Reader's clothes are described Note: Thank you to @green-socks for all of your help and the beta read! Love you!!! 💕

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)

Jake wasn’t sure why he was here. While he had been to strip clubs in the past, they weren’t really his thing. If he wanted to see naked girls all he had to do was go to any bar, flash his black Amex as he bought a round of drinks, and he’d have at least three of them begging him to take them back to his place within the hour. But tonight was different. Tonight he was looking for a distraction and he was hoping he could find one here.

He had never been to The Hard Deck Gentlemen’s Club but it had excellent reviews online as well as having a reputation for being incredibly discreet which was a must. The last thing he needed was for his family to find out he was here. He already heard enough about how he was a disappointment who had tarnished the family name; he didn’t need to add any further fuel to that fire.

Looking around, Jake was surprised at the small crowd gathered around the stage. At this time in the afternoon, he had expected the place to be basically empty, however there were at least a dozen men watching the girl currently performing and another four or five standing around the bar. 

Hunching his shoulders and ducking his head in case there was anyone around who might recognize him, Jake searched for where he needed to go. His eyes landed on a shorter man leaning against a podium by the side of the stage. He didn’t necessarily look like the sort of guy to work at a higher-end place like this, but Jake could just make out the staff shirt peeking out from beneath his leather bomber jacket. So, Jake took a chance and walked over to him.

As he got closer, the man looked over to see Jake approaching. He smiled and asked, “Hey there. Anything I can help you with?”

“Who do I see about booking a private room?” Jake asked, forgoing any pleasantries. 

“That’d be me. I just need to see your ID.” The man picked up a clipboard from off the podium. “Anyone or anything in particular you were looking for? A specific girl or request?”

“I don’t care,” Jake grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets to pull out his wallet. “Just send me whoever you have.”

The man nodded as Jake flashed him his ID. “You got it. Looks like I can have someone ready for you in about ten minutes. Until then you can go back to the room and just get comfortable. Your hour won’t start until she comes in so don’t worry about that.” 

He wrote something else down on the clipboard and then offered it to Jake along with his pen. Jake skimmed the page quickly but it just seemed like a standard waiver with a set of rules he was supposed to follow. Although, Jake did raise his eyebrow at the price at the bottom of the page. Now he remembered another reason why he usually stuck to bars rather than places like this. Yet money had never been a concern for Jake Seresin so he just silently pulled out his wallet and counted out the correct cash. Then he signed the form ‘Jake’ and held it and the money out to the man.

The man took a quick look at the form and shook his head. “Full name on the signature. First and last.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “I thought this place prided itself on discrepancy and anonymity?”

“We do…. from other people. But one of the ways we keep our girls safe and protected is by knowing exactly who we are sending in to be with them. This way if anyone tries to get out of hand or does something we don’t approve of, we know who did it. However, we don’t share that information with anyone, except the police if they have a warrant but that’s never happened before.”

He gestured to the form once again and Jake reluctantly signed his last name as well. This seemed to be acceptable since this time the man took the clipboard and the money from Jake. 

The man quickly did a count of his own before stuffing the money into his pocket. Then, he stuck out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

Jake blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Seems like you didn’t read those rules before you signed them– no one ever does,” the man muttered under his breath. He held out the sheet Jake had just signed and pointed to a bullet point near the bottom. “There’s no phones allowed in the private rooms.”

Jake scoffed. “Yeah, well, I’m not giving you my phone.”

“Yeah, well, then you’re not going back there.”

“I already paid you!”

The man dug into his pocket and pulled out the cash Jake had just slipped him. He held it out for Jake to take, but Jake hesitated. Would it really be so bad to get an escape from all the numerous texts, calls, and emails that were constantly blowing up his phone? Maybe a single hour of reprieve would be good for him.

Seeing his indecision, the man sighed. “Look, kid. You either hand me your phone or you take your money and go. It’s up to you.”

Jake’s mind quickly flashed to those boring safety seminars all company employees were mandated to take that emphasized never letting your phone out of your sight in public or never allowing anyone else to see it. Especially if your phone contained any sensitive company information– which was about 90% of what was on Jake’s phone. Yet, it didn’t stop him from pulling out his phone, double-checking it was locked, and reluctantly handing it out to the man.

The man took it with a nod. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He slipped Jake’s phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and gestured to a hallway on the far side of the bar. “Now, go down that hall and into room 3. One of the girls will meet you there in a few minutes. When you’re done, come find me and I’ll give this back to you. If I’m not around, just ask any of the girls for Maverick and they’ll know where to find me.” 

Jake scowled. He couldn’t believe he just handed over his entire life to a man named ‘Maverick’. “Just so you know, that phone has the highest security protection money can buy so don’t even think of trying to break into it.”

Maverick chuckled as he shook his head. “Kid, I’ve got better things to do than to sit here and try to break into your phone. So whatever it is you think you have to hide from the world, believe me, it’ll still be safely hidden when you get back.” He glanced at the stage as the song came to an end and the spotlights dimmed signaling the performer to walk off stage. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have to get back to those better things. And so do you. Room 3, your girl will join you shortly.” And with that, Maverick turned and left.

Jake watched him walk away and duck through a door marked “Employees Only” before he headed towards the hall. Walking down it, he was soon met with a dead end. To his right was a single metal door with the sign “Security Office” on the front and to his left was another hallway lined on both sides with doors. Each door had a number painted on it in fancy calligraphic font so Jake turned left and headed for the one at the end of the hall labeled 3.

Opening the door, he was pleased with how clean and well-furnished the room looked. Various chairs, an ottoman, a couch, and several tables were scattered around the well-lit room. There was a floor-to-ceiling pole off to one side in front of one of the larger chairs and a small platform that was probably a kind of mini stage on the other side of the room. But Jake ignored all of this in favor of the large red velvet couch.

As he sat down, he eyed the glasses and various liquors displayed on the table across from him. Maverick hadn’t mentioned anything about drinks being provided but then again, Jake had paid a pretty penny for this room. The least they could do is comp him one drink. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a small taste of the whiskey. It wasn’t top shelf by any means, but it was smooth enough and Jake wasn’t in the mood to be picky so he filled his glass and eased back into the cushions to wait. 

It didn’t take long.

A moment later, the door opened and Jake’s heart unexpectedly skipped a beat as you walked in and closed the door behind you. 

You were wearing a pale pink sheer robe with matching pink feathers all along the edges that fell to the floor and brushed against the top of your ridiculously tall heels. Though it was tied loosely around your waist, he could see a set of lingerie a few shades darker than the robe showing through. He was slightly surprised by its style. In the clubs he’d been to before, all the girls wore very skimpy clothing– practically just a tiny piece of cloth held up by a string. But while yours was still revealing, it was also much more suggestive. Clinging perfectly to your body, the material was cut in such a way that it gave a tantalizing tease of what was just beneath without showing off too much. Jake couldn’t take his eyes off where it was molded over your breast or hugged your hips. 

However, whatever hold you had on him shattered the second he glanced up at your face. While you were breathtaking, your blank doe-eyed expression and big pouty lips were an instant turn-off. Jake had been dealing with enough immature babies recently. He didn’t need to pay to deal with another one. 

But before he could say anything, you batted your long eyelashes at him as you bent over slightly- pushing out your breasts as you did so –and bit your lip cooing, “Hey there, baby. What brings you in to see me today?”

Your voice was breathy and dripping with a saccharine charm that Jake was sure worked on some people, but to him just sounded condescending and demeaning. Rolling his eyes, he drained his glass and reached for the bottle in front of him. “You can drop the act. I don’t want it.”

You stared at him for a moment, your eyes wide and innocent. But then your entire demeanor shifted as you straightened up to your full height. No longer this meek, innocent girl looking to please her client, you met his gaze with a self-assured confidence and smirked at him. Now it was his turn to be surprised. It was like he was staring at a completely different woman than the one who had walked in. 

“Oh, thank god,” you sighed in what almost sounded like relief. The breathy quality of your voice was now replaced by a strong, smooth tone that he found very pleasing. “I hate doing the naive little girl thing.”

Sauntering across the room with a flutter of your feather-trimmed robe, you paused in front of the ottoman to the side of the couch. Lifting the top, Jake could see it was actually a storage unit filled with small bottles of water. You picked one up and quickly downed it in a few large gulps. 

Wiping your hand across the back of your mouth, you said, “Before we get started, there are a couple of ground rules you need to know. Are you alright with that?”

“Ye-yeah. I guess,” Jake stuttered, still thrown off guard by your complete 180-degree shift in personality. 

You nodded in confirmation then began to ramble off the rules in a way that made Jake feel as though you had given this speech many times before. “To start with, anything you say while in this room is confidential and I am not allowed to share with any third party so you are free to discuss anything without the fear that it will get back to anyone else in your life. Please remember that I am a stripper, not a prostitute so there is no kissing or sex of any kind. If you have some kink or fetish you want me to perform, you are more than welcome to ask but it is up to my comfort and discretion if I’ll do it. I do allow some touching above the belt but if you try to go too far, you’ll get a warning. On the second warning, we’re done. If that happens, I’ll leave no matter how much time you have left in your hour. If you try to stop me or do anything I or the club does not approve of–” you pointed towards the corner of the room “–the person monitoring the cameras will send security to escort you from the club and you will be banned for life. Also, I don’t date or fraternize with clients once I am off the clock so don’t even ask. Are there any questions or concerns?” 

“No,” Jake muttered.

“Good. Then we are ready to start.” You selected another water bottle before returning the lid to the top of the ottoman.

With the bottle still in your hand, you crossed the remaining distance and stood before Jake. “Sorry about before. They didn’t tell me what you wanted when they sent me in here and usually, men who look and dress like you want one of three types of girls so I took a guess.”

“And what type of girls would that be?” Jake asked.

Dramatically swishing your robe behind you, you sat down on the edge of the table across from him, crossing one leg over the other so your foot just barely avoided skimming his knee. “Oh, you know. Either the sweet, empty-headed young thing who just wants to make daddy happy after a long day at work. Or the submissive who loves being called all those dirty, filthy things a man should never call their wife or girlfriend. Or the dominatrix who loves calling the man all those things a wife or girlfriend should never be asked to call them.” You chuckled ruefully as you shook your head. “If guys would just grow some balls and tell their significant others what they really wanted, what got them off, I would be out of a job in a second. But there is still too much of a stigma about admitting what you want so… here I am.”

Opening your water bottle, you took another small sip. Then, you ran the toe of your shoe up and down Jake’s thigh. “So, which is it? What kind of girl are you looking for tonight?”

Jake shook his head. “None of those. I mean, that’s not… I..”

Putting the bottle down, you leaned forward and gently took his hands between yours. Then, in a soft, kind voice, you said, “It’s alright. I told you, I’m here so you can ask for whatever you need. You paid for this to be a safe place and I won't judge you. But believe me, whatever it is, I’ve seen weirder.”

Looking deep into your eyes, Jake got the strangest feeling that you were right and he could trust you. He might come to regret it later but right now he didn’t have anywhere else to turn. So, taking a deep breath, he muttered, “I don’t know what I want. Or even what I need. I just… I just need a break from it all. It’s just too much.”

Your sweet smile shifted to one of understanding. "Ohhh. You’re right. You aren’t here for one of those kinds of girls. The fancy suit threw me off but you’re just here looking for what everyone really wants.”

“And what is that?”

"Someone to listen. To really hear what’s wrong and tell you it’s all going to be alright. You're a talker. But that's okay. Those are my favorite kinds of clients." You slipped forward off the table and onto his lap so you were straddling one of his legs. Wrapping your arms around his neck and sliding your fingers into his hair, you asked, "So, what is it you wanna talk about, baby?”

Jake flinched and tried to pull back but you held yourself firmly in place. “No. Not that. Don’t.. Don’t call me that.”

“Alright… then what should I call you?”

“Jake. Just…. Just call me Jake.”

You smiled and scooted down his leg closer to his chest. “Okay, Jake. You can call me Destiny.” He snorted at the name before he could stop himself. But luckily, you didn’t seem offended. Instead, your smile widened. “Alright, you’re not a fan of that either. How ‘bout you call me Des? Normally I only let my friends call me that. But I think I can make an exception in your case.”

It was still ridiculous, but at least it wasn’t such a blatant reminder of where he was or who you were. “Yeah, okay, fine. I guess it’s nice to meet you, Des.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jake.” 

All the snark and attitude from before had melted away and you had once again transformed into another person. Where before the sweet breathiness of your voice had been cloying, it was now calming and reassuring. Almost as if you were whispering each word so only the two of you could hear. And the way your eyes locked onto his with such compassion and interest, he truly felt as if he were the only person in the world at that moment.

Slowly, you began to rock gently against his thigh while at the same time, your nails began to scratch at the base of his neck. “Now, Jake, do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jake felt all the tension and stress of the last few weeks slowly ebbing from his body and you continued to lightly caress his head and grind down on his leg. The repetitive motions were soothing and relaxing and he soon found his eyes growing heavy until he was unable to keep them open any longer– not asleep but just more relaxed than he remembered feeling in a long time.

You continued your gentle grinding for what seemed like an eternity before leaning closer and brushing your nose against his ear. With a soft coo, you asked, “Come on, Jake. What’s wrong? You came here for a reason, so what is it?”

Jake opened his eyes to see your face hovering just inches from his. If he tilted his head slightly, his lips would brush against yours. But instead, he took a deep breath before letting it out really slowly. Then he opened his mouth and everything he had been holding back suddenly came flooding out. “It’s everything. It’s my work, and my family, and my life, and just… just all of it! I can’t get two seconds to myself where I’m not being hounded for answers or opinions or I’m expected to put out another fire yet being told I always do it wrong! I can’t breathe! It’s too much and I– I can’t–”

“Shhh, shhhhhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Jake didn’t even realize his voice had begun to rise to a frantic pitch and he was hyperventilating until you placed your hands on the side of his face and forced him to look at you. Your voice maintained its same soothing tone and though you were no longer scratching the back of his head, you continued to rock against his leg as if nothing had changed. 

With the same understanding gleam in your eyes, you smiled softly. "You can breathe here. It's just you and me. No one else. No other demands or expectations, no one asking you for anything. Just whatever you want and you need. That's all."

Jake’s eyes darted up to the corner where you had pointed out the camera earlier, but you turned his face back to face you. “It’s okay. Believe me, they try to avoid watching what happens in here as much as possible. Just enough to make sure us girls are safe. And I can tell I’m safe with you. In fact–” You turned towards the corner and gave a thumbs up before flipping off the camera. Turning back to Jake, you said, “There. Now they’re not even watching.”

“What was that?” Jake asked with a small anxious chuckle.

Grinning, you gave him a thumbs up. “It means ‘I’m all good’—” You put your thumb down and stuck your middle finger straight up “—‘now fuck off’.”

“Clever system.”

“Thanks. We think so.” You skimmed your fingers lightly up his cheek to brush a fallen strand of hair off his face. “Now… back to you. I meant it, Jake. Whatever you need. And if that is for us to just sit in silence while I continue to do this, that’s fine. Or, if there’s something you need to get off your chest, I’m here to listen. It’s whatever you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Jake admitted. “And I guess that’s part of the problem.” He hesitated as he considered his next words carefully so as to not give too much about himself away. “My family owns a very large, very successful company based here in Texas. It was started by my great-great-grandfather and has since become very…. profitable. And with all of that comes a lot of responsibility to not fuck it all up. And yes, I made some stupid mistakes in my past, but since my dad had a heart attack last year and I’ve taken over, I’ve tried everything I can to grow up and do what’s best for the company. But nothing I seem to do, no decision I make, is ever right in my family’s eyes. I’m trying everything I can to live up to my family name and expectations but…. I keep failing. And I just…. I don’t know what to do.”

Jake knew this was ridiculous. You weren’t some strategic advisor or psychiatrist. You were just someone he had paid to be currently grinding against his thigh. And yet, you quirked your head and began to chew on your bottom lip like you were deep in thought. Like you actually wanted to help him solve his problems. And once again, Jake was hit by a wave of emotion at actually being seen and listened to by someone.

After pondering his predicament for a moment, you finally spoke. “Let me ask you a question. Are you happy with the work and choices you’re making? Like, do you think they were the best ones you could have made at the time?”

“Yes,” Jake reluctantly admitted.

“And how do others outside of your family think you’re doing? Co-workers, employees, others in charge, people like that.”

Jake shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I mean, they mostly seem happy with how things are going.”

“Then sweethear– Jake. I don’t think the problem is you. I think the problem is your family.” Seeing Jake’s furrowed brow, you explained. “It sounds like you’re doing a great job so maybe your family’s constant criticism and degradation is their fucked up way of trying to remain relevant or in control. That they don’t like the fact you are succeeding without them or their help. Or that they don’t want to admit you’ve grown from your mistakes in the past and become someone worthy of this position you’ve been given.”

It felt as if you had just punched him in the chest. For a minute, Jake actually struggled to catch his breath. It was a thought that had frequently nagged at the deepest corners of his mind but he had refused to entertain. But hearing someone else say it, hearing the words uttered out loud, he was no longer able to pretend it wasn’t possible. Maybe he wasn’t the fuckup his father seemed to think he was. Maybe he wasn’t leading the company into failure and ruin like his mother always loudly whispered to her friends when Jake walked in the room. Maybe Javy hadn’t just been a great friend when he told Jake the rest of the board was very pleased with his latest decisions and changes. Maybe this wasn’t all on him after all.

As Jake opened his mouth to share this revelation with you, a large red light above the door lit up but you ignored it as you continued to stare at Jake expectantly. He nodded towards the light. “What does that mean?”

“That means your hour is up. But we’re not done talking so we’re ignoring it for now. It seemed as if you just had a breakthrough of some kind.”

Jake gave you a small smile. “I think I did. But, uh, I think for now I need to process things first before I talk about it. Can I… Can I come see you again when I’m ready for that?”

You smiled back as you ran your hand down his face and lingered over his lips. “Jake, you can come see me anytime you want, whether you’re ready to talk about it or not. I’m sure we can find other things to occupy the time.” 

You rolled your scantily-clad body into his one final time and stood up off his lap. Holding out your hand, you helped him to his feet. Then, looping your arm through his, you walked with him towards the door. 

When you both reached it, you slid your arm out of his and took a step back. “I have to stay and straighten up a few things but just head back down the hall and you’ll get back to the main room. And I do honestly hope to see you again sometime, Jake.”

“Me too, Des.” Jake reached for the door handle, but he paused just before opening it. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “You’ve known who I was since you walked in here, haven’t you?”

You winced as you grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ve known who you were. It’s hard not to recognize Jacob Seresin when his face is plastered all over the tabloids every few months. But I promise you, it doesn’t change anything. What we say or do in here will always be completely just between us. I promise my clients a safe space, and I mean it. It doesn’t matter who you are.”

Well, thank you for being the person I needed tonight.” Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out three bills that he held up. “Just my way of showing my appreciation.” Then he placed them on the table near the door and walked out into the hallway.

As Jake exited into the main room feeling lighter than he had in almost a year, he noticed the man with the clipboard from earlier standing at the other end of the bar laughing with the young brunette bartender. As he approached, the man – Maverick, Jake suddenly remembered – caught his eye and turned to him. “Well, you look like you had a good time.”

Jake smiled softly to himself. “Yeah. I actually did.” Though he had planned on never returning to this place after tonight, his mind flashed to the tender look in your eyes as you promised him he could relax with you. “In fact, I’m going to be making this a weekly thing.”

Maverick chuckled as he picked up his clipboard off the bar. “Sounds like you really enjoyed your time. Alright, I’ll mark you down as one of our exclusive Platinum members. Basically, it guarantees you a room and discounts on drinks and dances, that sort of thing.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, fine, whatever. I don’t care about any of that. However, when I come in, I only want Destiny.” 

Maverick paused mid-note with his pen still pressed against the clipboard as he looked up at Jake. “Sorry, kid. I can’t promise that. It all depends on her schedule and if she’s in the middle of seeing someone else and–”

“I’ll pay triple her rate.”

The other man raised an eyebrow as he continued to stare at Jake. “Damn. I’ve seen plenty of guys hooked before but it usually takes more than one dance.” Shaking his head with a grin, Maverick scribbled something else on the clipboard. “Alright. I’ve made the note.” He looked back up at Jake. “You must see something really special in her, huh?”

Yeah. Jake thought as he remembered your smile and your soft, soothing whispering in his ear and the way you really seemed to see him instead of just a tool to be used despite knowing who he was and the feel of your nails scratching at the base of his neck as you rocked back and forth against his leg and— Oh fuck. What have I gotten myself into?

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @nerdysuperchick, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld, @wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @mayhemmanaged, @kmc1989

[vxntagedior]

ballerina!reader bringing james into the studio so he can partner her

"put your hands here, and all you do is just help me turn." you instructed. james nodded, watching as you prepped, and turned en pointe.

his hands hovered over your waist, just slightly continuing to help you turn.

"alright, you wanna try a lift?" you were a little nervous but you knew james wouldn't let you fall. "hold onto my waist, and push me up as far as you can."

following your words, james obliged, feeling up in the air, you cambre your back, letting your arms fall into 3rd position, letting your foot come to coupe.

"you look beautiful angel." james smiled, bringing you down, "my pretty dancer."

[demigoddessqueens]

While reading the Vox Machina modern s/o I keep wondering what would the reactions of the group be if they see dancing (Like Tap, ballet or whatever style of dance) from the modern era. Before s/o found themselves in Tal'dorei their hobby/profession was dancing? Like they hear unusual music coming from a room in Grey Skull Keep, curiosity driving their actions they decide to take a peak and see modern s/o dancing away like no one is watching. Smiling, graceful, so completely confident with their movements its like their a different person entirely. Bonus if they join in with s/o or embarrass the hell out of them with cheering XD.

This reminds me of ASTV when Gwen goes back to see Miles 😄

At first it started off as “portals” randomly appearing here and there and you randomly bumping into them

First it came across as an inconvenience because who are you? where did you come from? And what are you doing?

Sure they know dancing, but these different styles are completely new to them

You’ve dabbled a bit in the waltzes, foxtrots, hip hop, house, parts of the world, pop, and jazz

The first few times were a headache, for you and them both, trying to make sense of it all

But after a while, you get used to it. Now every other time a portal shows up your dancing serves as a distraction or point of conversation post fight

There was the one time a portal happen to open up as you were practicing free-styling. And then you noticed seven others just dancing around along with you.

Objectively they all love the slower dances with you, especially Percy and Vax. Much more intimate

And ballet outfits just flatter you so well! The frills, lace, tights and all 🩰

[alannybunnue]

Baelor :" The 7 told me in my dreams, that we are to marry. You stole my innocence in them." Baelor had his 1 wet dream.

I HAD TO ANSWER THIS FIRST

The 7:

The reader is just so confused, cuz she was dancing peaceful and suddenly the KING comes to her and tells her they are going to marry

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Jake's Destiny: Crossing the Line

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader

Summary: Jake was your best client until you told him he couldn't ask for you anymore. However, that doesn't stop him from coming back for you. Will you continue to brush him off or will you find the courage to admit the real reason you need to cut ties?

Word Count: 2208

TW: Love Confession, Fluff, Kissing, Light Grinding, Jake picks Reader up

Note: Thank you to @onebigfangirlworld for sending the made-up title request that sparked this idea (I didn't stick with the title but it is a line in the fic!). And thank you to @lorecraft for beta reading for me! 🥰 You are the best!

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)

You adjusted your bustier and your makeup one last time and slipped out of the dressing room. But as you began to head towards the bar, Charity grabbed your arm. "Oh, you have someone waiting for you in room number three."

You groaned. "Already? I've literally been on the floor for less than a minute."

She shrugged. "I don't know. Karma told me to tell you.”

You thanked Charity and headed to the private rooms in the back. While you much preferred working the floor or behind the bar, if you were going to get requested to one of the back rooms, it was better that it happened at the start of your shift before you got aggravated by the night's clientele. Though the patrons of The Hard Deck Gentleman’s Club were all still a class above those you had dealt with at your last job, you still got the occasional jackass who thought because he slapped down a stack of cash, you had to give him whatever he wanted. And it was hard enough plastering on a fake smile when you were in a decent mood but it was agony when the night had already drained you.

However, you began to reconsider your previous view of the situation when you opened the door and saw who was waiting for you. 

Dropping all pretense of coyness or niceties, you rolled your eyes as you let the door slam behind you. "What the hell are you doing here? Or better question, what the hell am I doing here? Karma was supposed to get you, not me."

"Yeah, well, I might have paid Karma a little extra to switch places with you for the night." 

As usual, Jake Seresin gave you a cocky grin as he settled back onto the couch with his whiskey in hand and a toothpick jutting from between his lips. He looked pristine as always in his perfectly tailored suit which probably cost more than your car and his hair was styled in that way where it looked slightly messy but you could tell took hours to perfect. He had opened the top of his crisp white shirt so you could see a glint of the gold chain he always wore and the first glimpses of chest hair poking out. He could have just walked off the set of a high-end photoshoot, and knowing Jake, he might have. 

Though he was the only other person in the room, he took up half the space with the way he was sitting: his arms draped all the way across the back of the couch while he sat with his legs spread open wide. He patted his left knee, indicating he wanted you to sit, but you remained where you were with your arms crossed over your chest.

You thought you had made it very clear last time he was here that he couldn’t ask for you anymore. There were plenty of other girls on shift who could give him whatever he needed. In fact, there wasn’t another girl here who wouldn’t be jumping at the chance to do so. 

Jake was a unicorn in a place like this. He had more money than God, yet treated all the girls with respect and dignity. Sure, he was a little arrogant and egotistical, but he was also considerate, and a surprisingly good listener. Plus, it didn’t hurt he was supermodel gorgeous. 

The first night he came in, he said he didn’t have a preference when it came to which girl joined him in the private room. You were the next one on the schedule so you had taken care of him. Though you had expected him to want as much of you as you would allow, that night he only wanted to talk while you straddled his thigh and lazily ground against it. You left an hour later with the biggest tip you had ever seen and Jake’s request to management that you would be his regular dancer from now on. Since then, he had come in a minimum of once a week and while your interactions did become more physical over time, he never ever tried to cross a line or go further than you allowed.

Which was why everyone else thought you were insane when you told them you would no longer be taking care of him when he came in. However, no one argued with your decision since it meant he was up for grabs. Knowing Jake’s tastes, you figured Karma would be the best one to take your place and had told him as such. Yet here he was waiting for you once again. 

"Jake, I told you, I’m done. I have other clients and other responsibilities here. I'm not your personal plaything who can drop everything just because you want me to."

He flicked his toothpick to the floor and calmly took a sip from his glass. "Well, why not? I pay you more for an hour of your time than you could make an entire night with those other 'clients'. And you know you enjoy it just as much as I do, so what’s the big deal?"

Stamping your foot, you cried, "The big deal is that I don't belong to you! Or to anyone! And if I say no, I mean it! So, I can either send Karma back in here or you can leave.”

You turned to go but Jake jumped to his feet, leaped over the glass table in front of the couch, and slammed his hand against the door blocking your exit. You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes flickered up to his face. “Let me go, Jake.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t get to say that and then just walk away. Fine, I can be blunt and upfront about what I want, but I would never try to force anyone into anything they didn’t want. And that includes bribing or coercing them with money. You know me. You know I’m not like that. I just…. I had to come back. I just want to understand what I did. Why seemingly overnight you started hating me. I don’t get it.”

The desperation in his voice makes your resolve crumble. You had never seen Jake beg like this. He was always so confident and self-assured when he came to see you that you never imagined anything being able to rattle him. But apparently, you could.

Nodding softly, you said, “You’re right. I know you’d never do that. I’m sorry if that’s what it sounded like I meant. This isn’t about you or anything you did. I just can’t keep seeing you, Jake. I’m sorry.”

You tried to open the door again, but he kept his hand firmly in place. “Why? Des, talk to me! What is really going on?”

You knew if you wanted to, you could get him to let you leave. Jake wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t force anyone into anything they didn’t want, but he also knew you well enough at this point to tell the difference between a request and a demand. And so far, your mentions of leaving have just been a request. 

Maybe that was because deep down you did want him to know the truth. Maybe you wanted to see how he would react to it. Or maybe you just couldn’t bring yourself to cut Jake Seresin out of your life as you planned. 

Whatever the reason, you took a deep breath. Dropping your hand from the door handle, you wrapped your arms around yourself and turned your back to Jake as you walked towards the corner of the room. “To do this job, I have to set boundaries. And it’s gotten to the point where we’ve crossed my most important one. So I have to end this. I’m sorry.”

You heard Jake take a few steps closer to you, but he made no move to crowd or touch you in any way. “I can respect that, but what boundary did we cross? Maybe I can fix it, go back to before we crossed that line, and it can just be how it was before.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that simple, Jake. I can’t…. I can’t go back. You don’t know how badly I wish I could but I–” you squeezed your eyes closed tightly as you gathered the strength to say the next words “–I have to cut contact with a client if I develop feelings for them.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Your words hung in the air, filling the room with a weighty tension as you waited for Jake to react. For him to laugh at you. For him to slip out of the room. For him to embarrassingly try to reassure you it was okay but he could never have feelings for someone like you. You waited with bated breath for that hammer to drop and shatter your heart into pieces. 

But it never came. Instead, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle you from behind as Jake’s head rested against yours, his nose nuzzling against the place just above your ear. 

Squeezing you tightly against his broad chest, he purred, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

You turned in his arms so you were staring up at his face just inches from yours, not daring to believe the unspoken meaning behind his words. “Wh-what?”

“Des, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you first walked through that door and smiled at me.” He brushed his hand across your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing circles over your cheekbone. “Why do you think I spend thousands of dollars a week just to see you? You told me the first night I came in here that you didn’t date clients. That our time in this room was all we would ever have. So, I figured if this was the only way I could be with you, I would take it.”

“Jake, I–”

“No. I know what you’re gonna say and I don’t want you to.” He pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing up against each other as he closed his eyes. “Let me hold onto this feeling for just a little bit longer. Let me pretend this could last.”

You leaned into him as you whispered, “I don’t understand. You could have any girl that you want.”

“Good. Because I want you.”

“You don’t even know my real name.”

His eyes opened and you were left staring into two sparkling green pools that made you weak in the knees. “I’m okay with that. Besides, I think Destiny is pretty damn perfect as it is.”

You laughed, the sound wet and bordering on a sob. This couldn’t be happening. Jake couldn’t feel the same way about you that you did about him. Not this millionaire Adonis who made you feel more respected than any man ever had– in or out of the club. This was the sort of fantasy you only saw in fairytales or romcoms, not real life. The rich, handsome bachelor didn’t fall for the stripper. That’s not how the world worked. 

And yet….

As his hand intertwined with yours and he gave it a tight squeeze, you made up your mind. Taking a deep breath, you muttered, “In for a penny….” and broke your second most important boundary— you pressed your lips against his.

Instantly, he surged forward as if you had broken down some invisible barrier that had been holding him back. His free hand cupped the back of your neck so he could tilt your head for a better angle, all the while his other hand remained firmly linked with yours. You melted into him, parting your lips to allow his tongue to slip between your lips. He tasted like mint and whiskey and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Finally releasing your hand, Jake slid his arm under your ass and lifted you up, your legs immediately encircling his waist. Without breaking your kiss, he carried you over to the couch– almost tripping on the coffee table –and sat down. You pulled yourself closer to him, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. Your core was pressed against him and as you rolled your hips, you felt him twitch in his pants. Smiling against his lips, you repeated the action several times and felt him hardening against you.

With a groan, Jake finally pulled his lips from yours. He was panting softly as he gazed at you with lust-filled eyes, but he said, “We don’t have to do this. Or anything. Don’t get me wrong, you have no idea how much I want to, but I need you to know this isn’t why I like you. Like you said, any girl in here could give me this. But only you can give me the amazing woman I’ve fallen for.”

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and you whispered, “Oh, shut up” before recapturing his lips.

While you kissed, your hands fumbled blindly with his belt but you eventually managed to get it open. However, as you started to slip your hands into the waistband of his slacks, he pulled back again and gently grabbed your wrists. “I thought you said in here we weren’t allowed to—”

“Screw it. I’m taking my break.” 

You giggled softly as his eyes grew wide and you slipped your hands from his grasp as you eased yourself back onto the floor. Kneeling in front of the couch, you spread his knees farther and slid in between them. As you reached for his zipper with one hand, your other quickly unhooked your bustier and threw it over the camera in the corner of the room. You knew you would probably get yelled at for that later, but right now you didn’t care. What you were about to do to Jake was not business but pleasure. And damn, was it going to be pleasurable. 

Please let me know if there is anything specific you would like to see with these two or if you would like to be added to the series tag list! 💕

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover, @startrekfangirl2233

[hoedamn-eron]

pony

Your favourite regular always makes it for your last dance.

Warnings: 18+ for adult themes, no smut though. Like, one swear word. I'm not sure how strip clubs/dancing clubs work, so apologies for that, I've just taken a guess at them. This has, in fact, been proofread, but there's probably still mistakes. Word count: 1,094 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

A little drabble posting in the interim of He Found the Box of Condoms Part 3 and my Santi x Reader series.

“Hey,” your name was called by your co-worker. “Your boy’s here.”

You couldn’t help the smile creep across your face. Being a client’s favourite meant easy tips and an easy shift; they usually pay well so the boss wouldn’t mind if you kept your client busy all night. You were still relatively new to the club so you only had the one favourite client.

He was running very late today, but that wasn’t new. He was taxi driver, so his hours were unpredictable, but he always knew when your shifts were, and he always made it before it ended. You were about to go on stage for your final dance of the night before you made your way home (he’d probably give you a lift).

You gave yourself a final spray of that new perfume you had wanted (vanilla scented – your favourite) and made your way to the stage as Pony played loudly from the speakers. It was cheesy, you agreed, but it was always a fun song to end the night, and you were feeling a little playful, especially now. You swung your hips as you took the steps to the stage, giving a seductive grin to the patrons who were already cheering you on.

Your eyes subtly scanned the room and there he was, sat towards the back in one of the red velvet armchairs, in his usual immaculate suit and his gloved hand wrapped around the whiskey tumbler as his eyes trained on you, a small smirk of his own on his face as he tipped his newsboy cap at you.

Jake Lockley was a little rough around the edges, but a true gentleman.

He first came in on your third week on the job. Like every other time he’d come in, he’d ordered a whiskey and took a seat away from the stage, before requesting a private dance in the back. That night, you were urged by the other dancers to be ‘the one’ that night, as a rite of passage in a way. He had made you nervous, at first; you were a greenie, and he was intimidating, in his fine suit and leather gloved hands (which you did not imagine touching you in all the best ways). But he put you at ease, telling you that he wasn’t expecting your best, he just appreciated pretty people. You had blushed at his words, which caused him to chuckle.

It seemed Jake had taken a liking to you, since he asked for you again the week after. And the week after that, and again the week after that.

That had been four years ago. He had asked you in the past if you would ever leave, and you’d answered honestly, “I make more in four days than others do in a month; why would I ever leave?”

He’d given you his signature smirk at that before offering you a ride home.

You reach the end of the stage, where the pole is secured to the ground. It’s cold to the touch and you swing your way around it, leg hooking over and you give the patrons a sultry look, biting your lip in a grin. You slide to the floor before settling on all fours before stretching your upper body, rolling your hips as the song thrums through your body, vibrating through you. You loved the thrill it gave you; knowing that you were the sexiest thing in the room and no-one could touch you.

You catch Jake’s eye as the other patrons throw their money at you. He’s always so unreadable, sitting in the back with his casual gaze on you. You felt your skin prickle and you suddenly felt so hot, despite your lack of clothing. He looked at you as though he was opening you up, reading your every thought.

You were so incredibly turned on by it.

You don’t break contact as you dance and sway to the music, your hands playing with your hair, throwing your head back as you rock your hips. You always loved putting on a show for Jake, on stage and his requested private dances, and you had no shame in admitting it. You knew nothing would happen between the two of you, but your little day dreams never hurt anyone.

The song came to an end and you ended it by swinging around the pole and ending in the splits on the floor, the notes still falling around you. You grin at the patrons before giving them a thank you and walking down the stage, swaying your hips again. You couldn’t wait to take these shoes off, and wipe off your make up, and get comfortable before going home. You see security collecting your notes from the stage and placing them in your designated bag as you go backstage as the next dancer is called.

You thank security as you pass them back towards the main floor, where they will place your bag of notes by your locker. You make your way over to Jake, who was already stood from his chair, looking at you with that grin on his face.

“You’re a little late,” you said, running your hand down his arm as you pout.

“Sorry, baby, I’ve been busy,” Jake replied. “Had to get the limo out, lots of hen dos tonight.”

“But you still made time for me,” you mutter, biting your lip as you grin at him.

Jake huffed a laugh through his nose. “Don’t I always?”

“I’m about to get off,” you grin at the double entendre. “But I can still give you a private show.”

Jake hummed as he smiled at you. “Would you like that here or at your place?”

That was bold of him. You both had flirted in the past, of course, it practically comes with the job, but there was something always unspoken between you and Jake. You were probably a little naïve, falling for a customer the way you did, and like you said before, Jake was a gentleman, and you knew him better than the other customers. But he’d never been so…outright like that. But Jake Lockley wasn’t a regular client…clients don’t offer the dancers lifts home after their shifts.

“Are you inviting yourself over to my place, Jake?”

Jake nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder. “If you’ll have me.”

Oh God, he was the most beautiful fucking man you have ever met. Why in God’s name would you pass this up?

You hum and you lean into him, your eyes hooded. “Take me home, Lockley.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

Tagged - @eonnyx, @transparent-shark

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Competition of hearts.

Summary: Working together with a competitor in a competition sounded like nonsense to you. Why should you risk losing your perfect score? At least that's what you thought before a tall golden boy made his way into your heart.

Word count: 4.5k+

Genre: Not sure tbh slight hurt comfort, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive in the middle haha

Pairing: Yunho x neutral!reader

Warnings: y/n's actions can be a bit annoying, making out, light fighting, a lot of nonsense (let me know if i missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: ok wow, this is the longest story ive written on here. Half of it has been chilling in my drafts for like a year xD this is the story i published a teaser for ages ago and i finally had the motivation to finish it! I hope yall like it. Im not sure with it because long fics are not my specialty haha

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Dance was your dream. There was nothing you loved more than giving in to the rhythm and letting your body move along the beat. And there has never been something you wanted to do more.

So when all of your school friends decided to go to university, you went your own way. 

Yes sure, you could’ve studied dance. You could’ve gone to college. But you had enough of school and learning and exams and all of that stuff. 

And after running around and auditioning for all kinds of dance academies and dance studios, you got street casted through one of your free shows. It was nothing big. You always wandered around, a speaker in your pocket, settled down in a random place and started to dance. 

It was simple and you wanted nothing for it. 

But it eventually got you a step closer to your dream.

Ever since you were small, you participated in competitions. You loved being seen. Loved being in the spotlight. The applause made your heart beat faster and completely filled you with euphoria. 

And that was how you earned your first money. The first rewards and prices were small, fit for kids and teens, but the older you got, the bigger the prizes for winning were. And after leaving school, you did nothing but train, work part-time and fight for 1st place. 

But at one point you slowly realised that you needed a sponsor to get into better competitions. They didn’t accept you anymore and you couldn’t even pay the entry fees. And that was hard because you had tried getting into academies and other dance focused companies. But you were rejected.

Until that one day this lady came up to you after you finished your street-performance, handing you her card and telling you that you should call her. Which you did. 

“What do you mean “collaboration”? Where is the competition if you have to work together?” You croaked after hearing the alighting news. 

About a week ago, you had entered a pretty anticipated competition which costed a lot of time and money to get into. Many famous dance academies and companies sent their best representatives to compete and you were one of them. 

Your company was by no means big or famous but when you told them about the competition and especially about the winning prizes, they helped you to get into it. And you did really well.

You passed the first four rounds at ease and you had to acknowledge that you weren’t the only one there that would deserve to win but you were confident in your skill and completed every stage with perfection. Because you danced alone. 

“It’s part of the competition! What do you wanna do? Leave?” Your manager and friend aka the lady that casted you on the street, bit back at you.

You had always danced alone. Even though you knew that collaborations were a thing and you would probably have to do one in the future you always avoided them and buried that thought deep inside. 

Being the perfectionist you were, you couldn’t handle it when anything was out of your control. Especially when it came to dance. You had control over your body. That was why you could go up on stage so confidently. Because everything that happens there would be in your control, and if you made a mistake, which you hardly did, that would be your own fault. 

“No of course not! But why are they doing this?! If they do it in pairs they would have two winners!” You knew that complaining wouldn’t change anything but you needed to let go of your anger while you were still coping with the idea of a collab inside of your head.

You would have at least appreciated some warning, some time to think about it. But instead they decided to inform you on the day you should be starting to work on your choreography. 

“‘Your partner will be here soon’ my ass!” You mocked the way your manager came in earlier. “A little more time for mental preparation maybe?!” You threw your water bottle against the wall as you were still raging about the fact that you’d have to work with someone else. 

It was not like you hated the idea. It was just too sudden. You loved to work with others, sharing your ideas and creating something beautiful but in a competition? And so suddenly? It was just a little overwhelming for you. To your demise, you heard a door open.

“Are you Y/n?” A soft voice appeared from above, making you look up from your feet. Your face was red and tears were burning in your eyes, not the nicest picture for the first meeting. 

“I’m Yunho! I will be your partner for the collaboration round. Nice to meet you!” 

You were a little perplexed when you looked at the tall man right in front of you. He had his arm stretched out to you and a big smile on his face.

“Yes I am.. Nice to meet you too.” You hesitated before straightening your body and shaking his hand. 

After letting go of his hand, you tried to fix yourself by redoing your hair and wiping your face. At least you didn’t want to look like you just had an existential crisis. 

“I saw your performances! They were amazing, you are so good! I’m glad I got you as my partner.” Yunho’s energetic voice made you cringe. You didn’t mean to be mean but you were really stressed and couldn’t really understand how someone could be so positive right now. 

“Thank you..” You replied, looking at your manager for help. But Yunho seemed to notice that. 

“So uhm.. I heard you’re not happy with the current situation.” He started, clearly hesitant and careful. “But if you don’t want to drop out, there is nothing we can do. So I hope that we can make the best out of it?” He vaguely smiled at you while tilting his head. 

Oh wow. He heard your little rant. What a good start. 

“See, Yunho..?” You asked, continuing after getting his nod. “I didn’t mean it that way. I am a little… sensitive when it comes to new things. It’s not like I am against working with you, especially not you personally, I was just surprised and overwhelmed..” You explained, scratching your head in the process.

“I know it’s nothing personal against me, don’t worry. I just want to get the best out of this opportunity.” Yunho’s assuring smile was somehow comforting. He looked so innocent, kind and calm. And that helped you calm down before your Managers, Yunho had brought his with him, called you over.

“Have you done a collaboration before?” Your Manager asked Yunho as you sat down together to plan. Yunho nodded. “Good because our Y/n is new to it.” The way your manager talked, showed you that there was no harm intended in that statement. It was just the truth. And suddenly you felt a little childish.

You made such a big deal out of something so usual. 

Being the inexperienced one was weird to you. You had always been good at what you were doing when you worked with others. Of course you were teached as well and you learned a lot but it had been a while since you were the student.

“You’ll have one week to prepare for the stage. No crazy props. They want a performance focused on teamwork.” Yunho’s manager explained while giving you a list of things you could use. “We already talked Yunho through all the details on our way here so he will explain it to you further. We don’t want to steal more of your precious working time.” 

And with that it took five minutes until the studio was empty, except for you and your dance partner. 

“Well.. I guess we should stretch?” You awkwardly smiled at him, causing him to laugh.

Hours passed without you noticing. The studio had no windows so there was no daylight to show you how late it was. The bright lamps kept you from getting tired and the constant movement you were in made you forget about time. 

As the time passed you got to know another side of Yunho. At first you thought he was really playful and lightheaded but you figured out quite quickly that he could also be incredibly serious. 

His passion caught you off guard at first but soon enough you got into working space as well and to your surprise you worked really efficiently.

“So that would be about it for the first minute of the song. I think we should work on the rest tomorrow when we are a bit… fresher.” A smile broke through his seriousness as he wiped sweat off his forehead. You nodded, taking a big sip of water before packing your things. 

But the pace in which he changed from serious and hard working to goofy was just as scary as the other way around. As soon as you had finished packing and tidying up, he was already talking like there was no tomorrow. His voice went through ten different stages as he told you about that one time his friend from his company tried to stir egg whites with chopsticks for three hours, obviously with horrible results.

And if you were honest? It was relaxing. It was not like you were usually quiet. You could be really loud and talkative around the right people but you felt like listening to his stories made it a lot easier to break the ice. Even though it was thin already.

You were glad that he was your partner because you didn’t know if you could have worked so well with someone else. 

“And well. He even tried to get his friend to eat it but he politely declined the offer.” Yunho finished his story of the egg whites just as you left the building. 

“That sounds.. interesting.” You let out a small chuckle. “I bet he was not allowed into the kitchen any longer?” You guessed, making Yunho laugh out loud. “His best friend chased him out with a pan.” He confirmed your guess. 

His friends sounded amazing. 

You had friends at the company and some at your part time job but you weren’t really close with anyone particularly.

“Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Yunho said while getting in a car. And it took you a minute to realise that he was the one driving. 

You nodded at him before walking off in the other direction. He can drive? You wondered as you walked past the company building. It wasn’t unusual but you didn’t have a license so you were a tiny bit jealous. And maybe impressed. 

The following day was pretty uneventful. You met up at around 10am and started to work on your choreography.

You suddenly had a very good feeling about this collaboration. The day went by incredibly fast and after a shared lunch you even managed to finish the complete outline of the choreography. And you were proud because you genuinely liked what you had created together.

Even though you were extremely tired, looking at the short clips you recorded made your face lit up. 

The choreography was hard but matched the energy of the song perfectly.

“We should stop for today and work on the details starting from tomorrow. Then we’ll have five days to make it perfect.” You suggested, knowing that the hard work will start from tomorrow on. 

You both knew that the hardest part about this collaboration was yet to come so you agreed on having one last relaxing evening before hell would break out. 

“I could drive you home.” Yunho suggested as you walked out of the building. But you politely declined. “I like the walk back home.” You said, waving as you turned around. 

Well technically your way home was really long and quite exhausting, maybe even a bit scary this late, but you wanted to keep a little distance. You had already caught yourself staring at him for a bit too long sometimes and definitely didn’t want that feeling to get bigger. It was just so fascinating when he was dancing. You hadn’t felt this way in a while as you watched someone dance, so you figured that was why you got a little excited.

But you liked how it was right now. And you really wanted to keep this professionalism. How hard could that be?

“What’s wrong with us today?” You nervously laughed as you stood up to get into a normal position. It was the third time in a row that both of you couldn’t stay serious, immediately breaking into shy laughter as soon as you looked each other in the eyes. 

Oh you had been so wrong. How hard could that be? You were internally laughing at yourself. Incredibly hard. 

You thought the chances were low because you could stay in character. Just as good as Yunho. But you both seemed a little off.

“I have no idea.” Yunho laughed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

Giving up on that one particular scene, you continued with the rest of the choreography. And you got through that pretty well.

But you knew that something was off. You weren’t as concentrated as always. You caught yourself staring off into nothing and randomly losing focus way too many times in one day. And that was really scratching your productivity. 

“Maybe we should take a break.” Yunho suggested, making your cheeks heat up. But you just nodded in embarrassment. You were the main problem, and that was a problem for you. 

“Come on! Why isn’t this working?!” You groaned, repeating one of the moves for the 100th time. But it was still not giving you the effect you wanted. 

After finishing practice with an unsatisfied feeling yesterday, you wanted to make extra effort today. But that resulted in you getting upset over that one specific move you just couldn’t get right. 

“No no Y/n, a little more like this-“ Yunho demonstrated your already most hated movement of the month. But you couldn’t get it again. It was already late and you didn’t want to make him stay. It wasn’t his fault that you were failing. You were upset with yourself, not with him, so why make him stay?

“Yunho I think you should go home. It has no use. I don’t think that I will get it right any time soon..” You forced up a smile while lifting your head. But Yunho only tilted his head.

“But I have this bad feeling that you won’t sleep if I go now.” 

Bullseye. You were frustrated. You knew you shouldn’t let it out on him but..

“And what if I don’t? What are you? My mom?” You asked, surprising yourself at how annoyed that came off. You threw your towel against the bench, already feeling your anger rise. He needed to leave, or else this wouldn’t end very nice. 

“Sorry that wasn’t.. please just go home.” You were suppressing the tension in your voice, avoiding eye contact on purpose. 

“But you should-“ “I should what?! God Yunho. Just. Leave me. Alone.” 

You had turned around faster and abrupter than you actually wanted, making him flinch. He didn’t want to do any harm. And seeing his hurt expression made you want to apologise right away. But something inside of you couldn’t. 

Instead you just quietly watched him pack his back and walk out of the room with a “I’ll see you tomorrow…”

You had fucked up. And you knew that. But that didn’t stop you from doing exactly what he thought you would. 

You stood up all night, repeating the choreography again and again. Sure, it was harder alone but you felt freed because you didn’t have to worry about burdening someone. 

But that also made you forget to sleep.. or to drink. 

When Yunho showed up the next morning, finding you in the same clothes as yesterday, he sighed. He knew it.

You on the other hand were not really tired. Once you had survived that tiredness at about 4am, staying awake was quite easy. And it’s not like it would be the first time you worked through a whole night. 

And Yunho let it slip. Because it actually helped. You had overcome your problem and now 98% of the choreography was set perfectly. Just without Yunho. The missing variable. 

This day was rather productive. You went out to eat, meeting one of your co-workers from your part time job which caused a pretty embarrassing “who is that cutie” situation and got pretty far in your progress. And you promised Yunho to sleep when he left. 

But you kinda lied. Because you stayed up all night. Again. 

“Oh! Good Morning y/n! Why are you here so early? I’m usually fir-“ Yunho stopped talking as soon as you turned around. You looked beyond tired. 

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” His face immediately got serious, slowly getting closer to you.

You looked at the ground. You somehow couldn’t look him in the eyes. It felt like you were a little kid and he caught you stealing candy. 

“Listen Y/n.” Yunho’s voice was loud and steady as he grabbed you by your shoulders. You instantly looked up, finding his face right in front of yours. 

“This is a collaboration. It has no use when you can do the choreo on your own. We have to do it together.” He said, looking into your eyes way too intense. You felt ashamed but at the same time didn’t want to acknowledge that what you did was wrong. 

“But it obviously didn’t help when you tried to show me! And now I have the moves down so what’s your problem?” You responded, looking at him with the same intensity.

You shouldn't be fighting. You should just go back to to practice and let it slide. But you couldn’t help but stare at each other. You couldn’t see what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable and the silence between you two started to get more tense with every second. 

It was the moment you felt your eyes wander from his eyes to his lips and back that made you realise that you should definitely stop. You just didn’t notice him doing the same.

“I- we should just continue.” You said, your voice shaking as you broke the eye contact and turned around. But Yunho was definitely not letting you get away with that. You felt him grab your arm, turning you around. But before you could protest, you felt his lips pressed against yours.

Your eyes widened when you realised what he was doing. Why? How? Right now? Suddenly? Yes you had thought about this. Yes you had stared at his lips way too often but what? You didn’t-

You tried to push away as you felt those little annoying butterflies in your stomach but he didn’t let you. You couldn’t like him.. that would only end in problems. But his lips felt so good..

“Was it so bad?” Yunho chuckled as he gently pulled away from you. But you were way too overwhelmed to say anything. Instead you just managed to shake your head. 

Did that really happen? You looked up into his eyes, only to see a soft smile on his lips. 

“I guess we should start practicing now huh?” He laughed gently as he straightened his posture. And you didn’t know what drove you but now you weren’t gonna let him get away with it. He wanted to kiss you? Well then he should at least do it properly. 

“Bad.” You just whispered before grabbing him by his collar and pulling him close. “Come on. You can do better than that.” You smirked before pressing your lips against his again.

And he did better. It didn’t take long until you were pressed against the mirror, hands in his hair, legs around his waist. His lips tasted better than anything you ever had and his big hands that were holding you up were giving you an incredibly safe feeling.

“Fuck..” Yunho mumbled when you pressed your body against his. Your hips slipped a little further down, suddenly hitting something.. hard.

“Are you..?” You asked, looking down his body and up to his red face again. 

He just nodded, instantly letting go of you and turning around. “Sorry.. I didn’t mean to ehm get too invested haha..” He laughed nervously as he took a step back. “Let me go.. to the toilet real quick?” He took big steps to the door when he suddenly heard a thud behind him.

You had wanted to stop him and tell him that it’s alright but when you took a step forward, your vision suddenly got blurry. And then black. A thought shot through your head as your legs gave in. When was the last time I drank something?

You woke up to Yunho shaking your shoulder and as soon as you opened your eyes, he threw a water bottle at you. 

“I told you.” He just said while helping you get up. Looking at the clock showed you that you were only “gone” for about 10 seconds or so but your head was screaming at you as if you drank 6 bottles of soju. Alone.

You swore under your breath while shoving the water down your throat, feeling the headache getting worse already.

“Ok. You sit down on the bench now and monitor me. Get rest.” Yunho said in a stern voice while he began to stretch.

As soon as he started stretching, your mind went on a journey. Did that really happen? Or was it a dream? You still had the picture in front of your eyes, how he was holding you up against the glass, how he was pressing his lips on yours. But there were no signs of it happening. 

“Earth to Y/n, I’ll start now so watch.” Yunho interrupted your thoughts, making you watch him. You sat there for a while, head in the clouds, before you shook your head and interrupted him. He stopped mid movement and tilted his head.

“You’re right Yunho.” You murmured, eyes on the ground. “We only have tomorrow left since the competition is the day after. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. Now I’m all exhausted and we don’t have enough time to make it perfect.” You felt horrible. Maybe it was the fact that you were heavily dehydrated but you were miserable. You would both fail and it was your fault.

Yunho had kneeled down in front of you and put one hand on your shoulder. “We can win this.” He said with a certainty you couldn’t explain. “I want you to go home now and rest. And I will drive you. No discussion." And you didn’t complain. You were tired. He had helped you pack your things before you went down, got in his car and left.

You don’t remember what happened after but you somehow ended up in your warm and comfortable bed.

The next day went by quickly. You met up. You practiced. You ate. You practiced. All the tension from before seemed to have disappeared in thin air, making you question if his lips on yours had really been a dream. But that was good. Because by sunset you both laid on the floor in your own sweat. Done. You couldn’t believe you had finished your choreography, nor could you believe that the stage was tomorrow. You looked over to your right where Yunho was laying. It was all thanks to him. 

Without him and his flowery personality you probably would’ve gotten more and more frustrated to the point of giving up. But now you were finished. It was complete. You felt complete. And as Yunho turned his head to smile at you, you felt thousands of butterflies in your stomach.

“The next team is Yunho and Y/n.” You heard the announcer through one of the speakers. It was time. You had decided to wear something simple. White shirt on white slacks. As you made your way up to the stage, your hands began to shake. Fuck you were rarely nervous, why now? 

However, all your nervousness disappeared as Yunho took your hand. Yes you weren’t alone, but somehow it felt good to have someone by your side.

“Let’s win this together!” He said in a calm but reassuring tone before you got into position to start. You nodded firmly. And then the music started. Electricity ran through your veins as you danced by his side. Everything around you was floating, you saw everything in slow motion. Every touch felt light and every move was effortless. Your breath was calm. And suddenly it was over.

If someone asked you about your performance afterwards you wouldn’t be able to say a thing. You remembered nothing except for the first beat of the song hitting your body. 

You were breathing heavily as your surroundings cleared up. Everything got louder, brighter, faster. You looked over to your partner. His eyes were sparkling as he scanned the crowd. You couldn’t help but smile. Oh how you loved this man.

Oh how I- you realised your own thoughts when the first jury started to speak. 

Your final score was 98.7. The best so far but there was one more team coming up after you. While you were sitting in the waiting room, watching the last team’s performance you remembered the thought you had on stage.

Love. Such a strong word. Then you looked over to Yunho who was getting water for the both of you. You hadn’t talked to him after you got off stage. When he asked if you wanted water you simply nodded before sitting down. Your competitors were strong. But not as good as you and Yunho were. 

He sat down next to you, giving you a cup, while the score of the last team was announced. Your heart was racing. You gulped down the whole cup. 

97.4.

You won.

In the one second it took you to realise what happened, Yunho had already picked you up and swirled you around. And right when he stopped, it settled. You had won.

Without a single thought in your head you pressed your lips onto his. You had won and it was all thanks to him. He was perplexed at first but kissed you back quickly. A rush of happiness struck your body as you buried your hands in his hair. Even as you separated, your eyes were locked with his. You needed to tell him.

“I love you Yunho.” You whispered, not sure if you said it loud enough. His eyes widened. “I-“ he stuttered. You could see the realization on his face as it lit up.

“I love you too!” You were blinded by the brightness of his smile as he spun you around again. But then you were interrupted by a sudden announcement.

“Congratulations Yunho and Y/n. You successfully made it into the last round of our competition!”

Last round? This should have been the last round! You opened your mouth in shock. Yunho was still holding you tight as you looked at him in horror, hearing the next sentence.

“Prepare to fight. Your next and last challenge is to compete with each other.”

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[averagewriter-inthedark]

Rooster’s Ballerina 🩰 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw Headcanon

Link to my TGM Masterlist

Rooster dating a professional ballerina would look like:

Majoring in dance at UVA, you met Rooster when he and some of his buddies decided to attend the university’s annual ballet rendition of “The Nutcracker,” their senior year because his friend was dating a dance student. You played the Sugar Plum Fairy & to be honest, Rooster was close to falling asleep until it his eyes landed on you, captivating the future pilot during your solo. Rooster could not keep his eyes off of you, leaning toward is friend to ask, “who’s she?” His friend replied, “oh that’s, Y/n L/n. She’s a junior I believe—and word on the street is the New York City Ballet Company has their eyes on her for when she graduates.” Rooster didn’t have to be a dancer to know that was a big deal, just the way his friend said it was enough to figure out the company was the best of the best. Kinda like how Top Gun was the best of the best for fighter pilots.

Your talent for the art of ballet was evident right from the moment you stepped foot in a ballet studio. So much so that your parents homeschooled you up until high school so you could dedicate all your time and energy into ballet. At one point you got the chance to audition for Juliard, but an injury to your ankle resulted in you having to miss out. Thankfully UVA had sent a scout to your hometown after your instructor emailed a bunch of universities to come see you perform when you were healed, and they offered you a full ride under their program.

After the show ended, Rooster couldn’t get you out of his mind. Even when he left to his apartment and throughout winter break, he often thought of you and the way you glided across the stage. The sparkles of your outfit shined against the light, pulling in everyone’s attention. Smile bright and eyes glowing, you were like a siren luring him in, moving so effortlessly Rooster never wanted you to stop. He could watch you dance forever.

Spring semester came around and Rooster couldn’t believe his luck when you were standing behind him in the Starbucks early one morning. Feeling bold, he whispered to the cashier, “this is to cover the lady behind me,” handing over an extra $10 bill on top of the payment for his order. The cashier gave a knowing look, Bradley moving to the side to wait for his coffee and trying (but failing) to not watch your reaction. A smirk had already made its way onto his face when you strolled up, “i don’t know if I should feel flattered or offended that you payed for my drink, Mr…..” “Bradley Bradshaw.” “Well, Bradley, care to explain why over our cups of coffee?”

Basically Rooster came clean to you saying he was the friend of your classmates boyfriend and saw you perform at the winter recital. “I’m sorry if you find it weird, but when I recognized you in line….I felt drawn to you. I just would love to get to know you better if you’d let me.” Needless to say that unintentional coffee date was the beginning of your love story with Bradley. You two were inseparable after that, falling in love each day and knowing you two were each other’s soulmate.

You attended his graduation and commission ceremonies and Bradley went to every recital/show you were in. Sometimes he’d pick you up from practice and would just watch you with absolute awe, other times he’d ask to lift you just for the hell of it. Always bringing you snacks, Bradley would scold you if you missed a meal because you were in a hurry or had a busy day and forgot. “Babydoll you gotta be fed before you train otherwise you’ll be tired quicker and feeling like crap.” You weren’t on a diet or anything so sometimes he’d bring you fast food or pick up a sandwich/salad at a grocery store just so you has some food in you.

Bradley was so supportive of you, and you were of him. A difficult time in your relationship was having to be long distance for about three years after you graduated. Bradley was finished with flight school, now an active duty naval fighter pilot which had him bouncing between bases whenever an assignment came up. You were recruited to the New York City Ballet Company, a dream of yours since beginning ballet, and was not going to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime. That meant you would be living in New York, while Bradley could end up who knows where. Thankfully his first duty station was on the east coast so he got to visit you a lot. And Rooster never missed a show—especially when you were the lead role. He was your biggest fan, giving you a standing ovation when no else would. “You were incredible, babydoll. The best ballerina out there—I’m so proud of you.”

Rooster is the type of guy who would have your picture on his desk/nightstand. The one at work is you during your performance of Swan Lake, which he loves to brag about when coworkers point it out. “Oh that’s my ballerina. She’s amazing—the best in the country.” On his nightstand is a black and white photo of you during practice up on arabesque, smiling at the camera. It’s one of his favorites and also keeps it as his screensaver.

After doing some time with the NYC Ballet Company, you wanted to be closer to Rooster, satisfied you lived your dream of dancing with the best dance company in the country, and had the honor of being the lead in Swan Lake & Gisele, while also being the Sugar Plum Fairy and Snow Queen in The Nutcracker. There were plenty of other dance companies in the country, plus you always dreamed of opening your own dance studio—but that would come once Rooster retires and you two found a place to settle.

So, after you left the NYC Ballet Company you and Rooster got married after 5 years of dating and you followed him wherever he went. When he went to San Diego for Top Gun, you found a studio where the owner allowed you to practice free of charge if you helped teach the students. Of course you agreed and it just reaffirmed your dream of opening your own studio. The kids were so amazing and you loved sharing the art of ballet with them. Many asked for you to tell stories of your time in New York & asked you to dance for them after their lessons concluded. “What’s your favorite ballet, Miss. Y/n?” “Oh that is difficult to answer. I love all of them, but my absolute favorite of all time is Swan Lake.”

After several years of traveling with Rooster, he could tell you were longing to be part of a company again. So when the orders came he was assigned to the Strike Fighter Squadron 87 at NAS Oceana, he looked to the skies and thanked whoever above because it meant you could go back to New York & he would be in Virginia again. You nearly cried when he told you, especially when he encouraged to audition again, “really? You’re sure you wont mind? I know we talked about—.” “Baby, you’ve spent your whole life wanting to dance for them—you left once to support me, now i’m going to support you. We survived doing three years of it, we can do it again and I will be at every show cheering you on.”

Rooster kept his promise. You couldn’t believe the company accepted you back again, especially after so many years had passed and you weren’t 22-24 anymore. You were now pushing early thirties—but still danced like you did in college. A lot of the younger girls and guys looked up to you, asking for advice or a second opinion on where improvement was needed. Every Friday night Rooster was leaving Virginia for New York & would stay the entire weekend. You two would always explore, go on dates, and Rooster would even sit in on your afternoon practice—-which the younger girls would get flustered much to your amusement. “Your husband is very handsome, Y/n.” “I love how he’s so supportive of you. I wish my boyfriend was like that.” “Honey, if your man isn’t supportive of you and your career, then you deserve better.”

When Rooster was selected for the 2019 Top Gun special detachment, it had only been two years since you returned to NYC. Rooster encouraged you to stay, not wanting you to leave again after you’d been selected as the Sugar Plum Fairy once again for the upcoming performance of ‘The Nutcracker’. “It’s three weeks, Y/n. Before you know it I’ll be back. They wouldn’t have called me if they didn’t think I could get the job done.” “If they’re not telling you the details right now then it’s gotta be serious, Bradley. What if—what if I never you see you again. You’re my husband dammit—I’m not gonna sit here, on the other end of the country, worried out of my mind.”

In the end he won the argument, but on the condition he kept you updated with the details of the mission. FaceTimes were every night, with Rooster telling you on day one of training that Maverick was the instructor. You’d never met the man, meeting Bradley after their falling out, but had knowledge of all their history. When he told you Phoenix was there you had a sense of relief. Natasha was someone you could trust and would tell you if Rooster was hiding something. Worry filled you at the mention of Hangman being a candidate, well aware the pilot was a ‘every man for himself.’ You never formally met him, but the stories were enough for you to not trust him to have your husbands back.

Speaking of worry, you were worried to the point of throwing up when Rooster told you he was selected for the mission after confessing it was so high-risk, the higher up’s saw it as a suicide mission. Tears were shed over the phone, Rooster promising to come back to you. “I promise, baby, im gonna come home to you. I have to so I can watch you dance—I promised you all those years ago i would never miss a show.”

When he did return home, you nearly slapped him after he told you what he did. Disobeying orders to save Maverick and getting shot down. You were furious with him. “Were you out of your mind?! You could’ve fucking died, Bradley!!! What the hell were you thinking?!” “Mav told me not to think……”

A month later it was Christmas in New York. The night of the show you were backstage in your robe with hair and makeup done when the stage assistant said, “Mrs. Bradshaw, there’s some people here for you.” Following them out, your jaw dropped at the sight of the group standing in the backstage lounge. Rooster, Maverick and a group of gentleman—including Hangman—were dressed in their Dress Blues, each holding a red rose, and Phoenix wearing a gorgeous red gown. “Oh my gosh, what is this?!” You went to Rooster’s embrace, the man kissing your cheek to not mess up your lipstick. Taking the rose, you then greeted Nat—who also had a rose.

After the mission was a success, Rooster let it skip he was married when he said, “although I survived, I feel my wife is gonna kill me when I tell her what I did.” Immediately everyone—including Mav—was like, “Hold up, you got a wife?!” That then had an hour long monologue from Rooster basically telling y’all’s love story….and making it well known you were one of the best ballerinas in the country. “Damn, Bradshaw,” some said when he showed the program of the show you headlines. “Can I have some of that game you have?” The second he mentioned you had a performance coming up the squad was like, “looks like we’re going on a road-trip to see a ballet show.”

Introducing you to the squad, Bob, Fanboy, Hangman, Coyote, and Payback each shook your hand and presented the rose. You pretty much had a bouquet at that point with all of them together. “So nice to meet the lady who captured Bradshaw’s heart,” Hangman smiled, surprising you with how genuine he was. When you looked at Bradley, his nod signified he was cool with the pilot, so you welcomed Hangman with an open mind. Mav was really excited to meet you, shaking your hand while saying, “it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Y/n—.” You surprised the captain by pulling him into a hug, “thank you. Thank you for saving him.”

After some small talk and wishing you luck, you were called to dress and the audience was to take their seats. Rooster gave you a soft kiss, whispering, “you’re going to do amazing, baby. Good luck and dance your heart out.” Thanking him, you kissed him again and waved goodbye as the stage assistant ushered them to their seats.

Rooster wasn’t kidding when he told the squad you were one of best ballerinas in the country. You lived up to the reputation he had given you. Dancing to the music, the light bouncing off the sparkles of your outfit, they were captivated by you, just like Rooster was the first time he saw you dance. “Wow,” they all murmured during your solo. Hangman leaned into Coyote to whisper, “well there’s one thing for sure, if they have babies, they’re gonna be talented in whatever they do.”

It was deja vu for Rooster, coming full circle because once again he watched you as the Sugar Plum Fairy—only this time you were his wife and soulmate, not just the girl he admired and only knew by name. You were his ballerina.

……………..

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001

[bookof-xreaders]

heyheyhey, I’m not the anon that requested the headcanons but can I please get a short fic of Kris waltzing with the reader :]

I previously reblogged this post, which is different than my thoughts! Anyway, sorry for taking so long to write the fic!

Twirling!

Kris and Y/N were sitting on the sofa while watching a movie. According to Kris, Toriel had declared this particular film to be one she watched at a younger age. This declaration quickly clued the two in on how the film would play out: the guy gets the girl no matter what. Despite the pair's previously made prediction, the musical movie still remained interesting.

The two main characters were a sailor and a spy pretending to be a sailor. In the film, the spy was trying to coerce the sailor into giving her important information. This method was through a slow song and dance, which Kris poked some fun at. Instead of joining them, however, Y/N stood up and offered a hand to Kris.

"May I have this dance?" The standing one asked, grinning at Kris's chuckled answer. Kris placed their free hand on Y/N's waist, allowing the other to lead the dance.

The dance began slowly, the two of them taking basic steps. While Kris stepped on their partner's foot several times, the dance never stopped. Continuing this dance, Kris had brewed up an idea.

Slowly, but surely, Kris led the dancing pair to a clear area. This area happened to be the kitchen, where their only obstacles were kitchen appliances and the dining table. The kitchen was also dangerous, as the smooth floor made it easier for one to slip.

Taking note of their changed location, Kris's partner gave them a curious glance. This glance was met with a small grin and a change of hands. Their dancing partner then began to spin, being carefully guided by Kris all the while.

The spin gradually slowed down with the music, falling into a calm waltz once more.

[stephstars08]

I really want to write a story where the reader is a dancer just so I can have Maddie Ziegler be her best friend in the story since I just adore her!!!!!!!