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drefear · 9 months

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Daddy Issues

Best Friend’s Dad!Miguel x Reader

TW: smut, p in v, roughness, dirty talking, fingering, some fluff, some angst, teasing.

might make a part 2, we’ll see.

Nothing beat the way it felt to dance, nothing made you feel as alive. This was evident in the way you leaped across the stage and spun into a pirouette. You smiled and panted a bit and continued your routine, jumping into an arabesque as if you were in flight and completely weightless.

The applause filled the auditorium and you felt the out-of-beat rise and fall of your chest as you begged for air silently. You saw your father stand up with tears in his eyes and your best friend as well, who came to watch you for support. You’d finally gotten the lead in the show your dance school was doing, The Nutcracker , and being Clara was like walking on air. You ballet-ran off the stage and waited for the curtains to close, signaling the end of the show. You’d done it, and with perfect timing as you were about to graduate college and no longer have your dance team anymore, since you would officially reach the age limit in the fall of next year and auditions were in the winter. Your heart pounded as you saw Gabriella from the wings, happily waiting for you to come out and take your final bow, and then it was time. You milked the hell out of your curtain call, waving and smiling like a total idiot, but it was worth it. Everything had paid off to finally be at this moment.

But… they were gone? You searched for your father and Gabriella’s faces, but they weren’t in the seats they’d just been in. Did they leave? Maybe went to get the car before everyone rushed to the exits? You felt a little tinge of hurt in your heart, but you would try to understand. They came to watch and that’s all that mattered.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder as you masked your confusion on the stage, you turned to see the two missing familiars holding two large bouquets of flowers. You eyes welled with tears and you hugged them tight, crying happily as they wrapped their arms around you. The moment was perfect.

Well. Almost. There was only one person missing, one person who you already knew wouldn’t make it.

Gabriella’s dad, Miguel. He’d been one of your biggest fans since you and Gabriella became friends in middle school, about the time you began to blossom into the woman you were today. The two of you were inseparable from the moment you’d met, and soon, both of your families were just as close.

You’d been through everything together. Puberty, getting your periods, your parents divorce and your mom leaving, Gabriella’s mother passing away, everything. You two had even decided once you graduated high school, to go to college together and share an apartment.

Which is exactly what you did, and now you both were graduating. Gabriella was finishing her undergraduate for medical school, and you’d gone on to major in the arts, so you could become a professional choreographer. No one could get in between the two of you.

Except her father, you thought for a brief second before shaking the thought from your head.

No! That’s bad, very bad! You chastised yourself for your subconscious wishes.

Gabi’s dad was so nerdy as you grew up, doting on her mom every waking moment. You’d even gone as far as to call him a simp once, to which Gabi laughed about it for days. Your mom and dad barely got along at all through your childhood, so it was no wonder how much her parents loved each other was foreign to you, but things changed when you two became juniors in high school.

You’d had your first kiss, and Gabi begged for details in her room. The two of you sat up and talked about this boy you’d kissed all night, but she was definitely way more excited than you were. It just wasn’t what you’d expected, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly and basically just pushing your head into his passenger window as you somewhat wanted to get away from him.

Plus, he wasn’t even that cute.

But Gabi hadn’t experienced anything around boys yet, and so you indulged her and made it seem way more romantic and nice than it was. Batting your eyes, you made smoochy sounds as she smacked you with a pillow and you both giggled.

“Girls, lights out.” You heard Gabi’s mom say and you furrowed your brows a bit at Gabi, who just rolled her eyes in response. You waited to hear the footsteps fade before you asked her what that was about.

“My mom and dad have been seeing this counselor. Something about the spark needing to be reignited, so now they go into the guest bedroom every Saturday to have sex.” She made a disgusted face and your eyes widened.

“They plan it?”

“I guess? It’s been every weekend now for like three weeks, and I’m going insane! Let’s sneak out and see a movie or something before my brain dies.” She moved towards her window and waved me over, but you glanced at her bedroom door.

“Wait, I gotta get my shoes from downstairs, I’ll meet you in the backyard.” You spoke and she gave you a thumbs up, before tucking out of her window.

You tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room when you heard it.

“Miguel- right there!” It was hushed, but you heard it clearly. Not being able to resist, you peeked into the kitchen where you’d heard the sounds and your mind was never the same. “What if the girls come down-”

“Shh, we’ll hear them, now focus on me, cariño.” He had his head tucked into her neck as his pants were pulled below his ass, showing his toned bottom as he fucked up into her. Legs wrapped around his waist, he was so much larger than her. How did you just notice this?

Your eyes fluttered downwards to where the two of their bodies met and you gasped. He was huge. Could dick even be that big? He was beyond anything you’d seen in the health textbooks or on twitter.

You stumbled backwards and immediately knocked over the lamp on the table, the house then suddenly becoming quiet. It was as if there was no air inside of your lungs anymore, freezing in place until you saw the swinging kitchen door begin to move, running faster than you ever have for your shoes and bolting back up the stairs. You jumped as you tried to get your shoes on as fast as possible and sat on the window ledge as you heard someone coming into Gabi’s room as you were about to climb down the gutter into her backyard. Looking up, your eyes met his.

His face was sweating lightly and his eyes were blown with lust, watching you like a predator. You glanced down where you’d seen what you should never have, and his pants were pulled up now, but the bulge was still prominent and hard. You gulped and practically fell out the window backwards as you collapsed onto Gabi, who was waiting for you.

“Go!” You whispered harshly and dragged her hand, “Your dad is right behind me and he saw me!”

“Shit, how?” Gabi asked and your mouth went dry, the scene replaying in your mind like a broken record that kept skipping to the same place.

“You don’t want to know.” You hushed and ran to her fence as the lights from the back door flashed on and you two were met with the large shadow of Mr. O’Hara.

“What are you two doing?” His voice was like a death sentence to the both of you, who were sitting in the grass now. You scrambled to get up and your hands were shaking. Nothing was processing in your head. Why were you so sweaty?

“We were just gonna jump on the trampoline, dad.” Gabi lied and you just nodded, eyes avoiding his as he walked closer and folded his arms. You looked at his hands, and you thought back to where they’d just been, rubbing Mrs. O’Hara’s clit. Your eyes flashed back down to the grass.

Your name broke you from your haze, Mr. O’Hara’s voice making your knees tremble a bit. “You don’t look well, maybe I should call your dad and have him come get you.” he spoke and moved to touch your forehead, checking for a temperature. You flinched and moved backwards.

“You know what, you’re right. I’ll walk home I think. See you tomorrow, Gabi.” You rambled and a hand caught your wrist.

“You can’t walk home now, it’s dark out. I’ll just call your dad-”

“He’s working late, can’t come out. I’ll just walk home!” You tried again, begging for whatever higher power could hear you to just let you die.

“No, I’ll drive you then.” He said and your fate was sealed.

You just quietly nodded as Gabi looked at you with a bad feeling showing in her emotions. You two were in so much trouble.

Sitting in the car, your knee bounced with anxiety.

‘Please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please don’t-’

“So, where were you two actually planning on going?” SHIT.

“Uh. Just to see a movie.” You mumbled, staring out the window.

“And why sneak out? You both know that we’d happily drive you, even give you some money for snacks.” His tone made your skin crawl, now recognizing it as the moaning and grunting you’d heard prior.

You cleared your voice and tried to not look guilty. “We, uh, didn’t want to… bother you guys.” You hoped he wouldn’t even hear you, would just let it all go.

“It’s never a bother, especially when it’s about your and Gabi’s safety.” He spoke and pulled up to a red light. The silence was drowning you, but it was better than answering his questions.

“Gabi said you two were busy tonight, so we thought it’d be better if we just snuck out.” You shifted your legs in the passenger seat, begging the world to strike you with lightning.

“Ah. So Gabi figured it out.” He said and the light turned green again. “Gabi’s mother and I have been married a long time, and sometimes we need to do things to keep-”

“The flame alive, yeah I know. Can we please not talk about this, Mr. O’Hara?” You begged, and your eyes met once more, making you blush wildly. You couldn’t help but remember the way he looked as he thrusted into his wife. You turned away fast so he hopefully wouldn’t see your red cheeks. “Gabi and I will never sneak out again, I promise, just please stop talking about this!” You covered your ears a bit. That’s when he put it together.

“Oh.” he just said and continued to drive, hands white knuckling the steering wheel. “I’m… sorry you saw that.” His tone was hesitant, like he wasn’t even sure what the words he was saying meant.

“Cool, yep, see ya tomorrow Mr. O’Hara!” You chirped and practically jumped out of his moving car as he pulled to a stop outside of your house, no cars in the driveway and no lights on. You ran to the front door and burst inside, locking it behind you and panting.

That night, you’d had your very first orgasm thinking about him fucking you like that and nothing was ever the same.

A year later, and Mrs. O’Hara was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer and had only a few months to live. She pulled through to around a year and you felt your heart break the moment she was gone. Your mother had abandoned your father and you a little into your freshman year of high school, so you’d leaned on Mrs. O'Hara, like she was your own mother, learned her ways and how to be a good cook, and she taught you many things about life that you’d eventually need.

Gabriella and Mr. O’Hara were both devastated, and you could understand why. Nothing was the same for them. After the funeral, you, the O’Hara’s, and your father had a meal together, and that would be a weekly dinner from then on. Most of the time, she would cook for everyone when you all would hang out together, especially after your mom disappeared, but now with her gone, you picked up on cooking duties. It wasn’t as amazing as hers, but it fed you all and it was similar, so you kept up with it every week.

Flash forward to tonight, graduation looming over you like a rain cloud on a summer day. All of your grades were final, your dance team was about to disburse, and you’d be a woman of the world soon. Oh how the times had changed, and tonight was your official family dinner. Instead of cooking at home, your father insisted on you all going out to eat and your and Gabriella’s favorite restaurant.

And so here you were, sitting with that too tight bun still bobbypined and an easy-to-throw-on dress you’d yanked out of your closet in a rush to wear home after your performance. Gabriella held your hand as she chatted about what her and her new boyfriend were going to do after graduation, how he was going to med school with her and she wanted to get an apartment with him. You nodded, excited for her. You weren’t surprised, as she’d mentioned them moving in together multiple times recently, which would mean you'd be looking for a studio apartment soon. That was fine by you, since she’d still be in school and you were about to begin your own career.

The Latin food filled your senses as you enjoyed the food and light conversation. Gabriella spoke with her boyfriend to her other side and your father laughed with a glass of bourbon in his hand. You felt a hand on your shoulder from above and saw that looming figure you saw in your late night fantasies.

“Dad!” Gabi perked up and stood to hug her father, making you also stand to give him a polite peck on the cheek. As you leaned up to do just that, the corners of your lips brushed and your body froze, the feeling soft and… addicting. You snapped out of it almost as fast as you felt it and blinked a few times quickly to look like nothing happened, not meeting his eyes as you sat once more.

When you looked back to where he was hugging your father and shaking Gabis boyfriends hand, your eyes met and he was staring a bit. He sat next to you and you straightened up in your dress. This was new…

You’d done well at hiding your crush on him in the years, you thought. The first few months after you saw him and his wife have sex, you couldn’t look either of Gabi’s parents in the eye, but you’d gotten over it once you lost your virginity. ‘So that’s what it’s like’ you thought once you were done and the boy you were with was in the bathroom.

Dinner was served relatively quickly as you all ordered and drank. Your father had another bourbon neat, and Miguel had a Manhattan, as Gabi and her boyfriend each had a few vodka sodas, and you just slipped on your little tequila drink. It was a special for that week or something and had some sort of juice that made it look blueish purple.

Once you all had a drink in your each, you’d all begun laughing and chatting louder and as the night went one, you’d had a few more. The live band started and you swayed a bit at the music. When you turned your head, Miguel was looking at you already with his arm behind your chair. You blushed a bit, warm from the liquor in your veins as he chuckled.

“Drunk? I thought you could handle more than that.”

“No no, I don’t… I don’t like to drink too much, so I’m already pushing it.” You smiled and glanced at your dad, who just nodded in agreement.

“My little girl did not get the drinking gene.” He added and sipped the bourbon he had. Gabi laughed and spoke up.

“Should’ve seen her in Miami on Spring Break! She was so drunk, she was dragging strangers to dance with her-“

“Gabi!” You chimed in and glanced at your father and Miguel, the men laughing at your embarrassment.

“You’re a great dancer, even drunk!” She added and her boyfriend smiled at the memory as well. “How about we dance?” He nodded and pulled her hand to dance to the live music, enjoying the soft singing of the Hispanic music. You glanced at the dance floor and saw all couples, where Gabi now stood with her loving boyfriend.

“Go, find a partner!” You dad added and you shook your head. “Come on! A professional dancer who won’t dance alone?” He teased and you smiled again, just ignoring the comment.

“Here, I’ll dance with you.” Miguel stood and reached for your hand. You froze once more for that moment and nodded. “That way, you can still dance and not be alone.” He smiled wider and pulled you up, walking with you to the dance floor. You stood in front of him and heard the next song begin. Preciosa by Marc Anthony began and the beat made you move your hips gently, as he held your hands and followed your movements.

“They didn’t teach Latin dancing to you, did they?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. You looked up with a small ‘no’ and he chuckled, moving you in close to his chest and putting one leg in between yours. “Follow my lead, and loosen your hips. No ballet here, amor.” The roll of his tongue on the ‘r’ made your hips stutter in their movement. You’d never been so nervous to dance. He held one hand up and placed the other hand around your waist, swiveling you and twirling you both as he moved with precision and ease across the dance floor. You felt the eyes of everyone around you, but you couldn’t care. This was a moment you knew you’d waited your whole life for, and this was probably as close as you’d get to being with Miguel, so you’d ignore everyone and enjoy it while it lasted. A smile tugged at your features and you let him lead you. He even lifted you at one point like you were nothing but a piece of paper, a feather.

When that song ended, Vivir Mi Vida played and the tempo became faster, making you both continue with hast and creating a bit of sweat on both of you. He took control of the dance and spun you around the dance floor, making sure no one got in either of your ways as you laughed with glee.

The night moved in a blur as you and Miguel moved like a couple who’d been together for years, two who moved as one. A slow song played and the strum of the guitar moved your bodies close, making you lean back and forth intimately against each other. The song ended and you both realized there was very few people left in what once was a bustling restaurant, and when you turned back to your table, your father was handing the bill to the waiter. Miguel stopped and walked back.

“I told you I was taking care of it tonight.” He caught your dad’s wrist and took the check, replacing your father’s credit card with his, and giving it back to the poor confused server. They hurried away as your dad shook his head.

“Couldn’t let me have that, O’Hara? You and Gabi came to support my little girl, and you even swept her onto the dance floor and made her smile. Least I can do is buy ya dinner.” He laughed and Miguel smiled.

“Not a chance. She’s been a wonderful friend to Gabriella for years, and she’s like my own mija. Let me treat you all and celebrate her.”

The words echoed in your mind and broke down your wonderful night.

His mija? As in… his own daughter?

You cursed yourself silently and painting a fake smile onto your lips as you all got up to leave once he took back his card. Gabriella was speaking to you and rambling about the apartment her and her boyfriend were looking at tomorrow, but all you could hear was the white noise of your own thoughts crippling your ability to think.

You tossed and turned all night after hearing Miguel say those words and you pushed down the feelings you’d pretended were not there for years, as they threatened to roll over your being and blow through your eyes without grace. How could you let yourself think anything like that again?

A few weeks later and you sat with Gabi in her backyard, tanning in the chairs by her pool as you both heard a low “I’m home,” from inside. The back door swung open and you saw Mr. O’Hara standing there. He was silent for a moment before getting a bit irritated. “What the hell are you two wearing?” He barked, angered.

Gabi shrunk back. “Dad, what are you talking about? They’re just bikinis!” She tried to call him down, but he seemed to get even worse.

“Just- those aren’t even bikinis, those- that’s less than underwear, you both might as well be wearing nothing!” He yelled in upset, like a lion roaring in pain.

“Maybe I should just go.” You mumbled and his eyes snapped to you. Uh oh…

“Not a chance. Yours is worse than hers! You look naked!” He stepped towards you and instinctively you took a step back, behind the lawn chair.

“M-Mr O’Hara, no one can see us. We’re in your backyard.” You spoke carefully, trying to make it better. “So no one even saw us, right? We'll change.” You nodded, obediently as you grabbed Gabi’s hand and slipped back into the house, hearing him grumble to himself as you passed him.

“I’ve never seen him talk to us like that.” Gabi spoke, putting on a t-shirt. She sighed and pulled her hair up. “Not even when I had that hickey sophomore year!”

“Maybe he just had a rough day and that was the last straw?” You hadn’t changed yet, staring at yourself in the bikini in the mirror. It really wasn’t terrible, maybe a bit more of a cheeky back than a full one, the straps of your bikini fairly thin. Just a regular red triangle bikini. Maybe you’d just gained weight? You huffed, “my bag is downstairs with my clothes, I’m gonna go grab it.”

“Do you wanna just borrow a shirt?”

“I mean, maybe. Anything baggy, so he doesn’t freak out again?” You asked and glanced at her hamper of clean clothes.

“Yeah, grab whatever.” She waved you off and you reached in, grabbing a large t-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts. “I’m gonna go start making some dinner, come down when you’re done changing to help.” She spoke and walked out of the room. You sighed and pushed your hair behind your ears, sitting on her bed and holding the discarded bikini. Was he really upset? Well, maybe he was since he saw you as his own daughter. You begrudgingly got up and walked down the hall, passing by his office and spotting him.

“Come in here.” His tone was sharp, almost nerve wracking. You followed the voice and saw him with his arms folded over his chest, an irritated glare in his eyes. “I’m disappointed in both of you for thinking something like that is appropriate to wear.”

“Mr. O’Hara, we weren’t out in public, and no one else was around!” You answered, regretting your decision to stand up for yourself, as you notice the look in his eyes and realize you’re just digging your own grave.

“So you two weren’t taking a snapchat in those outfits? No videos or TikToks?” He asked, making you bite your tongue and avoid laughing at hearing him say that stuff.

“Maybe one tiktok…” You trail off and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, we didn’t post it, and I can delete it.” You justified and he nodded, concern still etched into his beautiful face. You take out your phone and as you begin to delete the video, his eyes narrow.

“...are those my clothes?” His head cocked to the side like a confused dog and you looked down, just as curious to see what he was talking about.

“No, they were in Gabi’s clean clothes.”

“Well, that’s my t-shirt from high school and those are my workout shorts.” His words made you quiet, forgetting about deleting the video. You blushed a bit and immediately starting searching for your bag, making a bee-line for the living room. “Oh my god, I’ll go change, I’m so sorry.” You rambled some flustered apologies before he could say anything else and ran off to the bathroom with the bag on your shoulder. Locking the door, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Could today get any worse? You leaned your head against the wall and kept your eyes shut, then took your clothing off once more to change into the clothes that actually belonged to you.

Tugging your skirt down to a suitable length incase Mr. O’Hara decided to berate your fashion choices once more, you glanced at something on the floor. It was another shirt of his, this time obvious by how large this one was, and the smell.

It was definitely something he’d just worked out in, having a particular musk to it, and the smell of his aftershave and body wash. It was him to a tee, and something in your body lit on fire just from the scent.

Without a second thought, you stuffed the shirt in your bag and exited the bathroom.

That night was filled with stifled moans and bitten knuckles as you quieted yourself while using your vibrator. His shirt stayed stationed in the hand you were biting down on, smelling his scent while you touched yourself until you were seeing stars and having trouble remembering your own name.

You hid that shirt the next day, stuffing it behind your pillows for safe keeping.

A day later, Miguel and Gabi had come over to watch some sport together. You’d never really been interested in sports unless Gabi was playing, but you enjoyed the company, so you often cooked for them all while they enjoyed the show. You mixed the guacamole as you heard someone walk into the kitchen behind you.

“Smells great.” Miguel spoke as he opened the fridge.

“Homemade chips, for the guac.” You nodded, still somewhat keeping it short with him after the prior day’s events.

“You can’t still be mad, right?” He asked and you turned to him fully, pausing the work on the mashed avocado and staring at him. He was holding two beers.

“I was never mad, but I still don’t get it.” You shrugged, “it just didn’t really seem like a big deal.”

“Really?” He seemed to get a little upset at that, placing the beers down and leaning on the kitchen island. “Because I think it was a huge deal. You’re barely an adult, you can’t be dressed like-”

“Like what? A woman? It was a bikini, it’s not like I was standing on the corner!”

“Watch how you talk to me.” He got cold and serious and your temper was flaring up.

“Why should I? You’re not my dad or my boyfriend, so you don’t get to tell me how to dress.” You shot back and he was quiet for a second. This prompted you to continue your winning streak. “And I don’t think you get to tell me what’s appropriate in front of people.”

“What are you talking about?” He hissed, taking a small step closer to you. “You don’t remember? When I caught you fucking on your kitchen counter? Cause I remember. Vividly.” You jabbed back and his eyes widened, the anger on your face apparent. Without another word, you stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your bedroom, slamming the door and sitting on your bed.

You shouldn’t have brought that up, you knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. Who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do? He was just your friend’s dad, he had no right to yell at you about how you dressed or what you did. It wasn’t his place.

“Honey?” Your dad said from outside your door and you got up, opening it for him. “Miguel told me that he upset you, so I told him that he and Gabi should go home for the night so I could talk to my little girl.” Your dad always called you ‘his little girl,’ no matter how old you got. Tears started welling in your eyes, and you didn't know why, but you started crying into your father’s chest. He hugged you in a tight embrace as you continued to let out the tears you didn’t know you were holding in.

Some time went on and after about a week, you’d gone to Gabi's childhood home to hang out and watch a movie while Miguel was out. It was perfect. You didn’t have to see him and you could have some one-on-one time with Gabi.

Until she fell asleep halfway through the movie. You sighed, getting up and getting a glass of water. The week had been stressful. Every free second you had, you were touching yourself to Miguel’s shirt, tracing your clit, biting your lip to avoid making sounds. Even just the memory of his smell made your knees wobble a bit and you held onto the fridge handle a bit tighter while getting the water. The front door opening signaled you that he was now home. Time to leave as fast as possible, you thought to yourself, and placed the full cup of water in the sink.

Before you could walk out of the kitchen, Miguel was in the doorway staring down at you. “I just got off the phone with your father.” His voice was monotone, which wasn’t abnormal.

“You can tell him I’ll be home soon.”

“Well, he had a few questions for me. About you.” He spoke and something was off about how he was speaking. Was he… taunting you?

You finally met his eyes and you were right, something was off.

“He said the cleaning lady found a man’s shirt in your bedroom.” Your heart dropped. No no no no!

“Oh.” Was all you could muster up as he watched your reaction. “He asked if you and Gabi had any new boys around, any new friends. He said you randomly started crying the other day and he was worried you might be going through some sort of relationship that he’s unaware of. So?” He asked and you just clenched your jaw.

“Mr. O’Hara, that is none of your-”

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“What?” You questioned, taking a step backwards.

“Say my name. You want me to treat you like an adult? Say my name.”

“Fine. Miguel, that is none of your business.” You barked at him, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I think it is my business, though. Since it’s my shirt.” He announced and your eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. How did he-

“It was just so strange, how one of my shirts went missing, one I had been wearing the day I yelled at you about that bikini, and then suddenly your dad finds a shirt that matches the one I’m missing. Weird coincidence, hmm?” he folded his arms and you felt your body running cold. How could you steal from a genius and think he wouldn’t realize? “So let me get the facts in order. You watched me have sex in my kitchen, you stole my dirty clothing, and you pranced around my house in a skimpy bikini.” He spoke in a lower voice, as if he was just thinking out loud, and you noticed the look in his eyes was becoming hungry.

“Y-Yes ok I did that, I’m sorry. Don’t tell anyone it was yours!” You begged and he chuckled at you, looking to the side.

“I’m not telling anyone anything, but I have a question.” He paused and brought his thumb to his lip, as if thinking about something he was trying to word correctly. “What were you doing with my shirt?”

Your blood ran cold, the sound of your heart beating in your ears too loud to even think. He… wanted you to say it. Heat began to rise up your neck and cover your cheeks and ears with a tint of red.

“C’mon, say it.” His lips twitched to a smirk and you squeezed your legs together at the view you had of him. Dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, belt around those slim hips, slacks tight in all the right places from how muscular his thighs were.

Embarrassment filled your head as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and as you lifted them up his body, red rubies claimed your sight like they owned you.

“I-I… thought about you.”

“Be specific, amorcita, what about me?” He moved forward and tilted your chin up to keep eye contact with him as you spoke.

You gulped and closed your eyes, too humiliated to say what you were about to while seeing his face. “I thought of you and I having sex… touching me and stuff.”

“Eyes on me, mi corazon.” You opened your eyes and he was bent down to where he could kiss you. His breath smelled like mint. “Tell me more.”

“I imagined you on top of me, b-behind me… kissing me.” You trailed off as his lips ghosted over yours, then smiling and crashing together like a crescendo of a symphony. His hands gripped the sides of your body, picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

“You thought of me touching you here?” His hand trailed down your torso towards the front of your jean shorts, tracing where your pussy sat, hot and waiting. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and he smirked again. He liked the effect he had on you, it was obvious.

“Words, mi amor.”

“Yes, Miguel, please.” You spoke, your words shaky as he laughed at your shyness. “Where was that attitude from before? All that sass?” He whispered against your ear as he unzipped your jean shorts, pulling down the material to expose you more to him. His fingers rubbed against the lacy fabric of your panties, and you lost your mind for a minute, panting a bit just from the slight contact. “You’re that sensitive? Just from a little touching?” He purred and yanked your panties off as well, your naked core against the chill of the air sending a shiver up your spine. “Where’d all that shit you were talking from the other day go?”

“Miguel,” You beg and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Gotta open you up first, Princessa.” His words were low and rumbled in your body as he gave you pet names.

A finger slipped into you without issue, and your back arched into his chest as he massaged your thigh with the other hand. A moan erupted in your throat and he quickly took the hand on your thigh to cover your mouth. “Shhh, we can’t have Gabi finding us like this, right?” You nodded and practically saw your eyes cross as he pushed in another finger, beginning to feel full with just the two digits. He worked them back and forth in you as he placed soft kisses against your throat. Your whole body jolted, like an electric current was rolling throughout your body.

His fingers began to curl against that spongy spot that had you rolling your eyes back, letting out more muffled sounds against his other hand, his eyes hooded and watching you through his thick lashes. Like a predator, he moved them faster and you felt yourself about to teeter over the edge. His thumb brushed against your clit and you were sent into a full earth-shattering orgasm, gripping his shoulder for stability as he let you ride his fingers through it.

“Preciosa…” he mumbled and unzippered the dress pants, pulling himself out and watching your face change from blissed out to fearful. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow…” he whispered and lined himself up. Pulling you to the edge of the counter, he pushed the tip into you and you closed your eyes, feeling the stretch of his size already. He moved slowly as you adjusted and once he was fully in, you hissed a bit. You both were completely breathless, like two wild beasts waiting to see who would make the first deadly move. “Look at me while I fuck you good, I want to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” Keeping eye contact, he moved his thumb back on your clit, making you shake a bit and let out pretty little sounds again. He started to move at this, feeling so good and overwhelmingly full. It was as if you’d been speared onto something, he was impaling himself into you and you loved every second. You began to thrust back against him and he practically lost it then and there, watching you frantically chase your own high making him almost feral. He yanked you off of the counter top, flipping you over and pushing you down flat against it. Shoving himself back inside of you, he began a relentless pace, bruising your cervix over and over. As you got louder, he pulled your hair back to make you arch against his chest.

“Yeah? You like how I ruin you?” He taunted, slamming into you from behind and causing the sound of skin slapping skin to echo across the room. “This pussy is mine.” He growled and gave your clit a gentle slap, making you practically scream out.

“M-Miguel…!” You were panting from how he’d made you so breathless, so overwhelmed by him.

“Be quiet, or do you want Gabi to know you’re a slut for me? That you love when I fuck you better than anyone ever could.” He went on and you nodded along. He was right. He’d ruined you for any other man. You’d never be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them to him.

“That’s right, amorcita, moan for me.” He egged you on as he bottomed out once more, making your legs shake. He lifted one of your knees to lean on the counter beside you and pounded into you from a new, deeper angle, giving you chills. That was it, that new spot he’d found made you come around him instantly, muscles tightening from the orgasm. You felt someone warm fill you, and realized he had finished as well. Grabbing your face harshly, he pulled your face sideways to give you a rough kiss as he kept himself inside of you for a few more moments.

You gasped for air as you felt him slip out of you, his seed dripping down your leg a bit and making you hyper aware of what just happened. You both stood, half dressed and heaving in silence. Your eyes found his, and everything hit you all at once. Grabbing your underwear and jean shorts off of the ground, you rushed out of the kitchen and began getting dressed as you walked.

“Wait-” He called out and yelled your name, but you were fast and he was still tucking himself back into his pants. As you reached the door, there was a knock and you buttoned your shorts as you swung open the door.

A nicely dressed woman, beautiful and tall, stood there holding a jacket. The two of you stared at each other for a second before she looked past you and smiled.

“Ah, Miguel! I realized you left your jacket in my car.” She spoke, then looked down at you. “Is this your daughter?”

Tears built up in your eyes and you looked back at Miguel, shocked.

“You were on a date?” Your words could’ve been poisonous with how you spoke to him, because they stung him terribly. His mouth was parted, still in shock.

You’d had enough. Your body pushed past the woman’s and you ran down the street to your home, only a few blocks away. It wasn’t your apartment, but your dad should be home and you could just tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. He never pushed you.

Knocking on the door, he opened it and immediately was afraid.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to stay here tonight, ok?” You spoke and he nodded, hugging your crying frame. Tonight had been too much to think about, and as he walked you in, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. You trudged off to your bed and fell asleep.

Part 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #Miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

Text

Injured V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: The next day

The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.

For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.

Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.

But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.

You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.

Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.

No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.

That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.

Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.

Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.

There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.

It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.

"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"

Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."

"Ale-"

"No."

The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.

It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.

No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.

"So, which one did she choose?"

The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"

Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"

"Mapi, what are you talking about?"

Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"

Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.

Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?

No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.

But...

Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.

When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.

The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.

She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.

"Go away!" Her sister snarls.

"Let me in!"

"No! Go away!"

"I want to see her!"

"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"

"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"

Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.

"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"

"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"

"Over my-"

Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.

"Tia! Tia!"

"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"

"Me and you! I painted it!"

Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.

"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"

"Okay."

You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.

Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.

"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."

"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."

Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.

"Alexia Putellas Segura!"

She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.

"Mama-"

"No!"

She falls silent.

"Go."

"Alba-"

"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."

Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."

"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."

"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."

"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."

"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."

"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."

"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."

"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."

Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."

"I'll give them to her."

You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.

She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.

"Do you have room for more trains?"

You look up. "Abuela!"

"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."

The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.

"Really?"

"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."

Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."

Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."

Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.

She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.

You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."

Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"

Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.

"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."

Tears spill down your cheeks.

"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."

"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."

"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."

It's clear that you don't believe her.

"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."

Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"

Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.

It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.

It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.

To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.

Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.

More tears flow down your cheeks.

"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"

"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.

Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.

"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"

"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."

"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."

"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"

Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.

But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.

What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.

It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.

Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.

"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"

You nod.

"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."

"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"

"Do you want them to?"

"No."

"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."

"Why?"

Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.

Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.

You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.

If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.

Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."

She pushes them both towards you.

One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.

It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.

It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.

It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.

You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.

More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.

"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"

"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."

You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.

It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.

Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.

"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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katiemcabeswife · 4 months

Text

Fan Girl - AWFC x Ballerina!Reader

Reader is a renowned ballerina and goes live to talk to fans, especially about her new-found love for football.

I really want to make this into a series of some sort but don't get your hopes up 🫶

"Hello, everyone!" You smiled into the camera a few minutes after starting an Instagram live, "Hello, hello, hello. How is everyone doing!" You responded to some personalised greetings for a few minutes before answering recurring questions flowing through the comments.

"What am I doing? I am getting ready to head over to the Royal Opera House to perform The Nutcracker. I am very excited to be doing so, we are going into the 4th performance of this year and I am absolutely buzzing, the first 3 shows went so well and I got to do all of my favourite parts and I get to do another tonight. So yeah, I am buzzing!" You had to try to suppress your smile whilst talking about your passion as you were doing your makeup whilst doing so.

"What are my favourite roles to dance in The Nutcracker?" You were moving onto contour as you began to roll off an endless number of characters you've played in the past, "I think my all-time favourite would have to be the Sugar Plum Princess, which I'm actually doing tonight!" You clapped your hands in delight due to pure excitement running throughout your body

"And then I think it's sort of even between; Clara, The Arabian Princess and The Snow Queen. I love Clara because I love playing her, I feel like I'm more of an actor when I play Clara and I love the feeling and of course, it's like, kind of a main role," You laughed as you tried to down-play the roll, not wanting to make it seem like you were bragging about getting to perform a main role.

"I love playing The Arabian Princess and The Snow Queen for the same reasons, I love their costumes so much and the choreography as well, oh my god, I feel in my element when I get to dance their choreography. It's an indescribable feeling, performing in general is for me, indescribable, but specifically those parts because I just love them so much!"

You laughed slightly to yourself as you took a drink of water, "And then we have the rats! I loved playing a rat, their costumes are just so funny and you get to really improvise with the rats," You choked on your water slightly as you laughed, "Oh I love being side-stage to watch them, performing with them is sometimes hard, especially when I'm Clara because you have to try not to laugh but I love the rats so much. And then there's also the angels! I love the angels, I was one for maybe 3 years? I started doing the Nutcracker when I was 3 and I started getting into other roles when I must have been 6 or 7, so 3 or 4 years, yeah, and I love the angels not only because it was my introductory to performing and ballet but also because now, I love kids if you didn't know, but I have taken up the role of helping the little-ys get ready and helping them get their stuff at the end of the night and they're all angels, and it just reminds me of the good old days, so yeah!"

You took a break from your makeup to look at the comments and your eyes widened when you saw 800,000 people were watching.

user429 i love her laugh

jazy_ballet I LOVE GETTING TO PLAY A RAT

saramanning how did you start ballet?

evanbraid what foundation did you use 😍

y/nballet4ever what are your hobbies aside from ballet 🩷

You proceeded to the task of doing your makeup after seeing that question, "I have recently gotten into football! I watched the Women's World Cup and it was the first time I was genuinely invested in a sport and I've kinda just kept on the football train now. That's kind of a lie I'm more on the football jet plane, if that makes sense. I am so invested in it's almost getting out of hand. I think about it all the time!" You had to laugh at yourself and how pathetic you sounded.

smith124 OMG! Who do you go for?

"I go for Arsenal, it wasn't really a conscious decision, to be honest. I just sort of figured out who everyone on the team was really fast and there was a game on, maybe 2 days after I had started 'investigating' and researching the team so I was like, why not? Um, but yeah I went to the game and I loved it! I felt kind of odd because I didn't have a jersey but I do now! I have, 12, if I remember correctly. That's Arsenal and England jerseys so..." You cringed at how fangirly you sounded.

p0llyr1chardz who's your favourite player???

"Favourite player? They're all so personable and great players like it's kind of mind-boggling how good they are but," You paused to think as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. "Um, my favourite player might have to be Katie McCabe or Lucy Bronze, if we are talking Lionesses. If I am being so honest, I only really care about the women’s game. I just can’t get into the men's games but maybe it’s just my pure love for women that has me interested in football, not the actual game. I also love the "ACL squad" because, if you didn't know 2 years ago, I tore my ACL and while it's most certainly not a fun thing, I find the similarities in the rehab and the experiences they've all gone through compared to mine really interesting. Because whilst on a sheet of paper, football and ballet are nothing alike, the rehab after an ACL injury is really similar and I mean it could be put down to both being quite foot or leg-focused but I find it really interesting. Especially with what Viv and Beth are doing with their documentary, spreading word about it, getting people to understand the severity of it and helping everyone understand why it's happening or trying to. I guess the biggest difference is that ACL injuries are extremely prominent in women's football and my injury was sort of like any other injury, a mistake or whatever you want to call it."

bethmead_ ❤️❤️❤️

Everyone could see you intently staring at your phone in silence for a moment, reading the comments, before you screamed and jumped from your chair, you laughed and settled back into your chair, "Sorry, guys! Oh my days, Beth! Hi, oh my, oh I love you so much. Not in a weird way! In a fan way! Sorry, oh my days, y/n you're embarrassing yourself." You placed your hands on your head and took a deep breath. "Sorry guys, so onto my hair! I hate doing my hair," You sulked slightly.

leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️❤️

"That's crazy," You sat in awe, "What is going on! Hi, Leah," You waved like a little girl, "This is crazy..." You did your hair humming with a smile on your face.

"Sorry for being silent for a hot sec, I can't focus on anything other than my hair when I'm doing it for a show." You smiled meekly at the camera.

bethmead_ will we be seeing you at the Watford game?

You squealed with pure excitement, "Yes! 1000%, I am going to be the Watford game. Of course, I am.”

You apologised that you had to step out of frame for a moment to put on your costume.

“Alright, surprise reveal for the costume of the night! Drum roll please…” You stepped into the frame in your Sugar Plum Princess leotard, looking a little bit silly without your tutu, “Sorry for not being in my tutu but I can’t sit in it and I have to drive to the Oprah House so…”

lottewubbenmoy see you there 😉

You almost fainted once you saw Lotte’s comment, due to fear or excitement maybe, but most likely from the scream you let out that had you explaining the last hour to your neighbour.

yourusername posted on their story

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #beth mead #woso imagine #katie mccabe #lotte wubben moy #leah williamson #vivianne miedema #lucy bronze #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer

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yelenasdiary · 5 months

Note

Can you please write a story with Natasha and the reader dancing together? Something like they end up doing a ballet performance together and then continue to dance and hang out afterwards, then they realize they love each other but the reader is a little shy so Nat makes the first move by kissing her or something

The Winter Ball

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: After the success of The Winter Ball, something a little more magicial comes to life.

Warnings:Fluff, No Warnings | 1.1K

AC:This is such a cute idea!! I just wanna say a huge thank you to @gingiesworld for helping me with this! I know absolutely nothing about ballet and they were able to help me put this fic together! I hope you enjoy it xx

Holiday Special Masterlist

"Agh!" You grumbled to yourself after another try at practicing a certain dance move knowing you weren't perfecting it to your own high standards. Natasha, your dance partner watched in silence from the doorway as you practiced over and over again. She saw the frustration building up in the way you moved your body, she waited for you to finish before making her presence known.

"Relax a little, you're too stressed" her raspy voice made you look over your shoulder to see the red head approaching you. "The performance is night! I don't have time to keep stuffing up" you replied shaking your arms out to try and loosen your body.

The winter ball recital was only hours away and you've been practicing your set non-stop for months. You were glad that Natasha wasn't somebody who was bothered by how much you wanted to practice and make sure everything was perfect, in fact, you noticed that she had some kind of way of making things less stressful. You felt her place her hands gently on your hips from behind as you watched her in the mirror in front of you.

"Take a deep breath" she said softly. As soon as you did as she suggested, you heard the soft sound of 'Believe (Plié)' begin to play in the background. "Now just let your body move with the music" Natasha added as you turned in her arms to face her.

You did your best to just let your body do whatever it felt was right as you and Natasha practiced the routine one last time before the show. The routine ends and you can't help but smile at your dance partner.

"Told you you were too stressed" she breaks the silence.

"I just want things to be perfect" you admitted before grabbing your water bottle.

"Things will be, I'm going to go and shower and head to hair and make up, I'll see you there?" Natasha asked. You nodded with a mouthful of water, Natasha waved goodbye and left you in the studio to take a moment to remind yourself to stop being so hard on yourself.

——

The theater was crowded with guests, chit chat traveled through the aisles and behind the large red curtain that you patiently waited behind. You couldn't help but shake your hands to try and get rid of the nerves that filled your body. Everybody was nervous, everybody wanted to put on an outstanding performance but the once person you couldn't help but notice didn't seem so worried was Natasha.

"Remember, take a deep breath and let your body feel the music. Forget about the crowd, you've got this" she whispered to help with your nerves. It didn't matter how many times you danced on a stage in front of hundreds of people, you were always nervous, always hoping to give your best performance, one better than the last.

After a few moments, the audience came to a silence and the ball began shortly after you and Natasha were welcomed onto the stage. The red carpet rose, as did your nerves. Sweat pooled in your palms while your eyes scanned the room full of strangers, you took a deep breath and placed one foot in front of the other as the music began.

The background slowly came to play, beautiful handmade snowflakes glittering in the spotlight as you and Natasha danced along the stage. Mixes of jumping and twirling before Natasha would bring you closer to her body for the finally few moves.

Your hands held Natasha firmly on her rib cage, just below her breasts while Nat's hands gracefully rise above her head as her left leg is bent, foot resting just above the inside of her right knee, her right leg is straight, and toes pointed down as you gracefully twirl before slowly lowering her feet into a bow.

Your right arm holding her just above the small of her back while your left hand holds onto Nat's right hand as she arches her back and faces out into the crowd as the music comes to a steady end.

The room erupts into applause from the audience as you and Natasha make your way off the stage and begin to prepare for your next set. "You were amazing out there!" Natasha smiles softly.

"I have a great partner who really helps" you replied with a smile of your own as a thank you for her compliment. Natasha chuckled, "well thank you" she added before grabbing her next outfit.

The winter ball came to a close with the audience on their feet as their hands clapped together. You along with everybody else on stage took a bow before making your way off the stage. All the nerves and stress from earlier in the night had faded away with the sound of the muffled applause from behind closed doors. The large smile on everybody's faces only made you more proud of everybody tonight.

"Hey" you heard Natasha's voice as she gently tugged your arm, "come with me" she added as you turned to look at her. Without a thought, you followed Natasha down the hall and into one of the empty dance rooms. Natasha gently grabbed your by your hips and pulled you close as she looked deeply into your eyes, she smiled softly. Her touch, her smile and the look in her eyes brought a sense of warmth over you.

You stood facing each other, arms extended gracefully in front of one another and you slowly you both began to bend your knees, sinking into a deep plié. It came naturally, you didn't even question as to why you were both dancing once again. As you both descended, your arms reached up and out, creating a beautiful line. Reaching the bottom of the plié, you both slowly rose up, maintaining the beautiful line and connection with each other. Natasha smiled softly once more as she placed her hands on your hips once more and pulled you close before leaning in and kissing you deeply.

Your arms gracefully wrapped around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss that the two of you were so hungry for. Natasha kindly pulled away and smiled, "I've been waiting all night to kiss you" She admitted, "well, no, that's wrong…more like I've been waiting since the day we became dance partners" She adds making the smile on your lips grow bigger. "I'm glad you did, because I was way too shy" you replied with red cheeks.

Natasha chuckled before her lips met yours once more, "are you hungry?" She asked.

"Starving now the nerves have gone"

"Good, I wanna cook for you" Natasha replied, "but not exactly tonight because I am also starving" she added causing you both to laugh. "Well, lets go get some late night Chinese?" You offered, Natasha nodded as her hand intertwined with yours. The two of you went to walk out of the room but not before you pulled Natasha close once more, crashing your lips onto hers, "just wanted to double check I wasn't dreaming" you smiled against her lips.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #christmas #black widow #marvel

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a-998h · 4 months

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Fatui x fem!Creator ft.platonic Pulcinella

@tea333love:Hi, can you write an order? You can write about cult! Sagau fatui harbingers, who found out that creator performs in theater in Sneznaya (imagine that there is a theater in Sneznaya) and one day they decided to go to performance of creator and we're amazed by elegance of dance and can you write what happened then? (Fem! Reader and she is 18 years old). (Romantic fatui harbingers, plantonic Pulcinella).

(La Signora, Childe, Scaramouche, and Arlecchino are in this becuase I can, also spoilers for Scaramouche and La Signora lore)

You have been performing in theaters across Teyvat ever since Yun Jin saw your dancing. At first it was just Liyue, but soon word spread of your skills. At this point everyone knows that you're the Creator, and combined with your skills, it was only a matter of time before other theaters around Teyvat wanted you to perform on their stage.

When it reached the harbingers that you're performing in Snezhnaya, they just had to see you perform. So with the help of Panatlone's money, and their status as harbingers, they got premium seats.

The legends and art of Snehznaya painted you as a motherly, mature figure (a milf). Your titles in Snehznaya was королева сверх жизнь, Queen above life, or simply королева, queen.

Your appearance was discribed to them, but it never said how old you were. When the curtains lifted and you were in full view under the lights of theater, you were dressed in traditional Snehznayan ballet outfit with a white under bodice, purple outer bodice, dark blue skirt, silver accents, and red shoes. You were decorated with stage makeup and costume jewelery silver in color with fake moonstones and rubies. When the music started, so did your dancing.

From their seats, they could see how young you looked. Pulcinella seemed to have his focus torwn between you on stage and a few members of the audience. While most of the audience looked at you in awe and respect, a few held... less than respectful looks. Some members of the audience had the gall to look at you with a hint of lust.

The music started slow, you at first only moved you hands. You moved elegantly in tiem with the music. It was like you were in a trance, your yes were open but it looked like nothing was behnd them.

When the performance reached it's end, the theater filled with applause. The harbingers were in awe, they wanted to know you better. Each of them had their own goals in mind. They left theater, planning a time to meet you face to face.

The next morning you are escorted to the palace and to the meeting room of the harbingers.

After that night, your visit lasts a month, in that month a lot happens. Your time is split between all eleven harbingers, so let's get into that.

Pierro

He is a bit cold at first.

It's not because he doesn't like you, he loves you and but he is emotionally constipated

when is finally able to talk to you, he is watching his words as to not offend you

He is stiff, cold but very knowledgeable

He will take you to the palace library, after stealing you from another harbinger

In the library he sits on the couch closest to the fire, sits you in his lap, and then he starts reading to you or telling you stories from his younger years

He will give you his huge ass jacket, rejctibg the jacket is not an option

Il Capitano

He is the silent bodyguard to you, I will hear no arguments

He cares about you, but unlikey Pierro, who is emotionally constipated, Capitano just doesn't know how to properly show his love for you

If you show an interest in military history, or weapons, or anything like that he will teach you whatever it is you want to know

When the more... unsavory folks approach you he just stands silently behind you and stares

They leave, running as fast as they can

That night at the theater he was entranced by your skills

He would ask for you to dance, only for him

Dottore

He is curious about you

We've seen how he is not opposed to performing human experimentation so with you, a supposed god, he has many ideas

He wants to see how far you can go

But, he also wants to know why you "made" certain things

If you say you don't know or that you can't remember, he'll use that as grounds for making you drink "something to jog your memory"

He sees you as a wealth of knowledge that is all his

He does not care about you as a person

He is not allowed to be left alone with you

Colombina

She loves you

You're the picture of beauty in her eyes

Her and La Signora will team up to pamper you

Will sing you to sleep, you just have to ask

She fell in love when she saw your dancing that night, so like Capitano she will ask you to dance for her

I think she has a baking talent, I.. I don't know why she just seems like she knows how to bake

you will be her taste tester for her baking

She cuddles you to sleep, naps, or anytime she wants to

Arlecchino

I...I don't know where to start

She knows you're a god, but she sees you as weak due to your age

She keeps up her calm, sane persona around her

Another person who is not allowed to be alone with you, but she oftens sneaks you out with her

She loves you, like a person loves a favorite possession

She allows the children at the House of the Hearth to interact with you

She kind of feels something in her cold, dead heart whenever you interact with the children

She only allows people to look at you. No one can touch, speak, breath, or even be near you with her around

She teaches the children to snitch on you or distract you if you try to leave without her

Pulcinella

OH MY GOD!

The second he sees you, and sees how young you are

He is now your unofficial grandfather, he will hear no different

He sees it as a personal mission to protect you, even though you are a powerful god

He will try and teach you new things every day you spend with him

Will feed you a lot "becuase you are a growing girl".

Tries to keep all the young harbingers from dating you

While he can't stop Pierro and Capitano, because they're fossils, he will just make sarcastic remarks and glare at them if they get to close to you

He will teach you chess, and he will play with you

Scaramouche

Oh....Oh he is complecated

As we all know, he has a... complex relationship with gods

Let me rephrase that, he has problems with his archon mom

He is the biggest tsundere to ever tsundere

You couldn't waterboard the fact that he loves you out of him

Will give you things he "happened to find" that reminded him of you.

Will give you gifts but pertends that he didn't put any thought into it, but he did

A brat... that's all

If you offer him cuddles he will act like he doesn't want any

If you stop the cuddles, he will complain

He will demand your affection like a cat

Sandrone

She stares, a lot...

I believe she makes puppets and dolls in your image

She takes you to her workshop

Has you stand still so she can compare materials against you, to find the best one that look closest to your features

Will have nice clothes for you to try on

Will use you as a dress up doll

Puts makeup on you as well

Another that loves you as a possession

When will sit you on her lap at every possible time

La Signora

She is one of the few that loves you as a person

Due to her still greving Rostam she isn't very open with you, at first

When she does open up to you, she will almost suffocate you with love

If you aren't on Sandrone's lap, you're in hers

She will share the knowledge she got from her time in the akademiya

I think she remembers stuff from her life as a Mondstadter

She will sing songs, or parts of songs, she remembers

You are the only person she shows her scar to

She'll give head pats, nose kisses, and neck kisses

She will dance with you or watch will Colombina and Capitano

Tartaglia

This man... where do I even begin

He will try an fight you

It's a way for him to see your strength

When he isn't trying to fight you, he acts as a scary guard dog

Will spoil you

Takes you to meet his family

He is extremely possessive of you

Loves you as a person

Will beg you to show off your powers

He marvels at you powers

Brings you something from every nation he goes to

He makes you go along with the lie he tells Teucer

Pantalone

Is the only normal one

Between him and Sandrone, your closet is overflowing

He likes to take you to shopping

If you feel bad about asking for something due to price, he'll buy it anyway

Will buy you stuff for dancing and any other hobbies you have

Has mini fashion shows with you as the model, sometimes Sandrone is there too

Has you sit near him when he works

Will give cuddles, just ask

Likes to spoil you

Thinks you deserve the best because you're a god

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fl3shm4id3n · 19 days

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ₒₚₑᵣₐ ₕₒᵤₛₑ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ꜱʜᴇʟʙʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʙᴀʟʟᴇʀɪɴᴀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, Basically the dark side of being a ballerina and the ballet industry of the time, mentions of prostitution/sex work, age gap, semi public sex, kissing, fingering, riding, titty grabbing, lip biting.

A/N: I rewatched the animted short called LOUISE, and I got an idea.

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That night was just like every other performance. It went well, the crowd had seem to love it, specially since it was packed. After the show, your body was aching and you were tired. You had been at the opera house since noon to prepare for the evening show. All you wanted to do was go home and rest, but you promised your friend you'd wait for her since her mother had called her over to 'entertain' a gentlemen who's asked for her.

Another thing about being a ballerina was to please the opera guests. Which were mostly men. It was always 'You be good to them and they'll confiscate you greatly'. For example, get better roles, more classes, get high quality shoes, costumes, make up or even a good work for the teachers. You basically had to do what they wanted no questions asked. That's why half of your classmates were very sweet to the patrons who asked for their attentions. It was the harsh reality, but what could you do? The men frequented and funded the opera. If they were to give a complaint to the owner or teachers. You can kiss your career and hard work goodbye for good.

You did have to entertain some guests, but everything changed when you had caught the eye of Thomas Shelby. Out of all the other women, he choose you. Since then, no other patron dared to ask for you. In a way, you were always reserved for Thomas. He was very generous to you. Often getting you bigger roles or better roles, good quality shoes along with clothes, more classes, even giving you extra money just for you to have. In some way, you couldn't help but fall in love with him. But at the same time you felt like you couldn't love him. Or at least go around telling everyone you love him, it was a secret of yours.

As you roamed around the back stage, seen the many patrons hanging around the other ballerinas. You were then pulled to the side by someone, once you saw who it was, it was the person you hoped wouldn't bump into. "Minerva." You said, nervously, looking at her. "Do you know why I'm here?" She asked. "Because you missed me?" You teased, but she rolled her eyes. "No time for games, I need the money urgently." She said, making you now nervous. "Urgently? As in tonight? Or tomorrow night?" You asked, but she cut you off before you could say more. "Y/n, I need to pay rent." She said, more sternly and serious. You looked at her, seen that she wasn't playing around. You let out a sigh. "Alright, you'll get it later tonight." You said, seen how Minerva was now more relaxed by hearing you say that you'll have the money later tonight. "Thank you." She said, about to walk away, but stopped and looked at you. "Don't forget." She reminded you and walked away. You couldn't help but sigh and leaned against the wall she had you pinned against. Now you had to find Thomas.

You first looked in the small ballroom, which was flooded with both patrons and ballerinas. Talking and enjoying the champagne being served. You analyzed the room, seen how the men were being very touchy with your classmates and how they'd giggle, as well as run their hands on the men's chest or arm. Deep down, you knew that they'd only pretended to like the men just so that they didn't have any problems. No sign of Thomas anywhere, then you spotted one of the girl's that lives with you. "Hey, have you seen Thomas?" You asked her. She thought for a moment. "No, I haven't. Last time I saw him, he went back stage." She said, you then sigh in annoyance. "Why don't you go with someone else." She suggested, then you let out a small chuckle. "Someone else? You know how Thomas would feel about that, they'd be a blood bath." You told her. "Anyways, thanks." You said to her, then walking off backstage to find him.

As you walked back stage, they were girls just sitting and chatting amongst each other. Avoiding the attention of the patrons. The more you looked around, you heard moans as well as other noises going on behind closed doors. As well as talking and so on. When you spotted a mirror, you stopped to fix yourself a bit, such as fixing your hair and attire to look presentable when you found Thomas. As you continued to search, you asked a group of ladies talking and asked if they've seen Thomas, again, no. So you decided to go upstairs to maybe see if he was there. You couldn't help but over hear a conversation going on with a group of gentlemen, about how he ended up loosing money. When you continued to way up the stairs, you then bumped into the man you were searching for. "Oh! Tommy, I was looking for you." You said, with a small smile. "Y/n, I was hoping I'd find you." He responded, while placing his hand onto your sort cheek to feel his skin against yours.

You then pulled him towards the darker part of the stairs, where there was no light or prying eyes. Once you and him were alone, Thomas pulled your body against his, him wrapping his arms around your waist and your arms wrapping themselves around his neck. You and him then engaged in a kiss, it went from slow to desperate. As if he'd been craving to kiss you for the longest time, you couldn't help but moan against his lips, as his tongue rubbed against yours. Then you felt how he gently bit your bottom lip. Causing your whole body to burn up and the heat between your legs to get stronger. You felt how his hand began to run up your spin and touched feel the warmth of your naked back. After some kissing, Thomas then pulled you down with him. Sitting on the step of the stairs and you on his lap.

He pulled away, beginning to kiss your neck. Making you moan and quiver underneath him. You felt his hand other free hand going underneath your puffy long skirt. Feeling up on your thighs, caressing the soft material of your tights. It made you purr as you felt him touch and grab at you. It made you feel as if you were the only woman in his life, but you knew deep down that was wrong. but it didn't hurt to imagine that. You then felt how his other hand went underneath your skirt right onto your crotch area and ripped your tights apart. Exposing your now wet panties. Making you gasp. "Tommy! Those are expensive!" You whispered, still in shock that he'd ripped your tights, that you had been saving up to get. "No worries love, you know I'll get you new ones." He said, which was true.

You let out a small moan, feeling how his hand gently caressed the wet patch of your silky panties. "Excited already eh?" He teased, with a smirk. He then tore the tights more, to be able to have more access to the waist band of your underwear. Without a moment longer, he shoved his hands down your panties, beginning to tease your now needy and throbbing clit. Making you let out a slightly louder moan by his fingers gently rubbing your clit. You wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders, digging your nails onto his white shirt as he began to thrust his middle and ring finger inside you. "Tommy." You moaned, as you closed your eyes, feeling his fingers pumping in and out of you as if this was the first time he's done it.

"Oh!" You whined, feeling your legs beginning to shake and sweat building up on your forehead. Just by him fingering, you were left weak. You then felt his fingers leave your now drenched cunt, making you whine in annoyance. Quickly Thomas unbuckled his pants and pulled out his now hard cock, out of nowhere, he thrusted into you. Making you throw your head back and let out an even louder moan. Without another moment, he began to thrust into you. You were basically holding onto him as if your life dependent on it. Thomas wrapped his arm around your lower half and held you in place. You felt his lips going right back to your neck, kissing and slightly biting onto your flesh. It's been forever since you and him engaged in this. You were too focused on the pleasure given and receiving, that you had completely forgot your whole purpose on why you needed Thomas.

All that could be heard was your moans and his breath heavying. Echoing on the empty stairs, basically giving away what we were both doing. But it was nothing that the others in the opera house haven't heard before. "T-Tommy!" You moaned, as your nails dug harder onto his shirt. Feeling how his cock was now slamming in and out of you. At a delicious and hard pace. You also felt how he rubbed your clit at a hard and pressured pace. Non stop, despite his hand getting sore. Your walls clamped around him tightly, making him groan. Knowing you were close to cumming and so was he. His pace got faster and hard, making you mewl and whine by the now. You then began to move your hips up and down as a way to help you and him reach your climate. You also felt his not so busy hand was grabbing at your breast, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipple every now and then as a form of teasing you. A whole wave of pleasure hit your body like a train, you felt youself cumming right around him. Having you let out a pleasurable shriek. Feeling yourself nearly collapsing on Thomas. He then pulled out before he could cum inside you, instead he cummed right on your thighs.

Afterwards, you back in the dressing room, alone. Tire and even more sore then before. You leaned against the wooden pillar. Thinking about the moment you and Thomas shared, it felt special during the moment, but afterwards, it felt almost wrong. It made you sad in some way, but there was nothing you could do. You then heard the door open, seen the ballerinas walking in, to get changed back into their regular attire. You met up with your friend again, who came up to you and greet you. You then helped her get out of her costume as you had small talk. "So, who did your mother find?" You asked, while unbuttoning her dress. "Yeah, an old guy." She said, with an annoyed look. "Old huh? Your mother has bad taste." You teased. "Right?" She said, as she began to undress from her costume.

"So, what did you do as you waited for me?" She asked. "Not much, just getting the money that Minerva needed to pay the rent of this month." You explained. "So, you spent your evening with Thomas?" She teased, while giggling. Making you roll your eyes. Then you spotted Minerva walk by. "Hold on a sec." You told your friend who was busy changing. You went up to Minerva, who was also changing. "Here you go." You said, handing her the small envelop of cash. She took it and began to count the money. "Thanks." She said, before you could walk off to change you were stopped. "Hold on." She said, then she handed you some money. "This is yours." Minerva said, while handing you the extra money you decided to leave in there. "Are you sure? I mean, that's for next months rent and-" You were cut off by her. "Don't worry about it, besides. You've earned it." She simply said, you hesitantly took the money. It was enough to buy youself some food or maybe those tights Thomas tore, youo gave Minerva a smile then walked off to get changed.

The next morning, back at the house you and the rest of your housemates were having breakfast together. Talking and gossiping about last night and how it went. Until the door got knocked, Minerva want to answer it, as you all continued to eat, then you heard her call your name. You excused yourself from the table and went to the door entrance. Minerva had a small gift box in hand. "You called?" You asked. "This came for you." She said, handing you the box. You took the box and thanked her, she then left back to the dinning room. You looked at the box for a moment, then you opened it to see what was inside. It was a pair of tights with a small not on it. You took the note and read it. 'For you -Thomas Shelby' It a simple note, but it was sweet. You couldn't help but smile and your face heat up.

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 1 month

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A dancer dies twice

LeonKennedy x ballet!fem!reader

Summary: Leon attends ballet performances from time to time and a certain dancer caught his eye. An unexpected turn occurred and the favored ballet dancer stopped performing, causing Leon’s heart to break a little.

Warning: comfort/angst. mention of depression and weight loss. not proofread lol. nothing sexual but still.

a/n: I’ve been having this idea for quite some time lol. Why did I stop ballet dancing? Idk, I was a dumb kid lmao.

“A dancer dies twice - one when they stop dancing, and this first death is painful.”

The curtains were closed as Leon walked towards his reserved seat in the house. He wasn’t like other people nowadays dressing causally, he dressed up in his fancy suit. The first button of his dress shirt unbuttoned, just the way he always preferred. He finally got himself a small vacation and what better way to enjoy the weekend than watching a group of people dance along to Tchaikovsky?

He shifted in his seat as he looked over the pamphlet of the acts. He doesn’t know a thing about ballet but he does know that he likes the emotions conveyed in the way the dancers move. Whether it was the betrayal in Swan Lake or the serene feeling of the sugarplum fairy from The Nutcracker, he loved it all. But he would never admit it to his colleagues.

The orchestra began to play in a crescendo as the curtains pulled open, revealing a group of white dressed ballerinas huddled in a circle. And that’s when that serene feeling came. The ballerinas danced in their point shoes as their skirts moved gracefully every time they did a pirouette. It felt magical and he felt a sense of relief. Leon was an analytical guy, he analyzes everything he sees and tonight was no different. For tonight, he noticed a certain new dancer. Her hair tied up in the same bun as the other ballerinas but somehow it looked better on her. The white corset she was wearing hugged her lean figure just right, her arms moved under the spotlight swiftly. As if she was a doll. This was her performance.

Leon kept attending each time he could just to watch her. To watch the way her arm and leg angled perfectly at every arabesque she did, her grand jeté followed by the common chassé. She was just breathtaking. As if her purpose was to dance all night. And she did. She was the white swan. She was Clara. For months he watched as she slowly took over the main roles, she was that good.

But all that good came down with a price. Recently, he noticed the way she started to appear less and less. She danced the lesser roles now. And he couldn’t help but wonder why? Was she okay? Is she taking care of herself? For nights he felt worried. He even searched up her name online to find her social media. But the poor man couldn’t find it. It’s like all she did was perform.

Until one day, he spotted her walking down the street from her dance studio. He was out for a smoke when he saw her in her practice clothes, backpack over her shoulders as she walked towards her car. His eyes widened at the sight and he quickly threw his cigarette on the floor and put it out with his foot. He looked both ways before crossing the street and began to make his way towards her.

She didn’t notice until he spoke out to her, “Hey, you performed last week, right?” He asked even though he knew the answer already. She turned around and looked at him surprised but quickly smiled politely.

“Yes, I did. Did you enjoy the show?” She asked in her quiet voice, she seemed tired. He couldn’t help but nod as he looked down at her. “Yeah- you were amazing.” He mumbled under his breath, his heart beating fast as he began to feel his ears turn pink. She was even more beautiful up close.

And god was her laugh even more breathtaking. She giggled at his words and that only made him want to make her laugh even more. Just to hear that beautiful laugh.

It’s been a few days after their exchange and he couldn’t help but feel like a teenage boy for being able to get her Instagram. Turns out she purposely hid her account from the ballet house. Makes sense since she looked like the type to not want to be bombarded with messages from strangers.

They texted for some time and he kept attending her shows. He even bought her flowers after one performance in which she got the main role again. His heart nearly bursted into little pieces as he watched the look of surprise and joy on her face when she saw the flowers. He wanted to make this girl happy, as much as he could. So he kept bringing her gifts. And she kept them in a special memory box. It was all so romantic.

One day, she was walking home from dance practice with her headphones on. She was talking to Leon on the phone about some minor things like how much her feet hurt and how she needed new shoes. And he listened to her, no matter how much she talked because she talked a lot. He took in every word and analyzed it. Should he buy her the shoes? He would gladly spend his money on her if it meant she’ll keep dancing. If it meant she’ll keep following her dreams.

It was all going great until she noticed a car swerving slightly. She shrugged and kept walking as she talked to Leon over the phone. The car kept getting closer and closer until it swerved right into her direction. Her instincts jumped in and she was able to dodge the car, but her leg got caught under the tire. She screamed in pain and Leon quickly tracked down her location. He got his keys and drove to her, he didn’t care how fast he was going. He needed to be there, he needed to help her.

When he parked on the side of the road, he saw her holding on her leg as the driver staggered in his walk. He was drunk, Leon thought to himself. A drunk driver just ran over a dancer. A ballet dancer’s worst dream came true in the snap of a finger. Leon felt a lot of things. Anger, frustration, sadness, he felt it all. And his heart broke even more as he saw how much she was crying. He ran to her side and quickly called the ambulance.

He sat waiting in the lobby of the hospital as she was undergoing surgery. She had suffered a bone fracture and needed immediate medical attention. He stayed up as much as he could and waited for her. He would ask any doctor how she was doing, and honestly, no one told him anything yet.

Her assigned doctor finally came out and approached Leon. He told him that she was currently sleeping from the anesthesia but that he could see her. And he rushed towards the room she was in.

He saw how she laid on the bed, peacefully sleeping. He saw how she had wires tied to her arm. He heard the sound of her heart monitor beep at a normal pace. He slowly approached her and sat on the chair next to her bed. Leon took her hand and squeezed it gently. He couldn’t do anything except wait for her to open her eyes.

And he waited.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked around as her vision tried to adjust to the harsh hospital lights. She looked down at Leon’s head resting on her bed as he held on to her hand. She smiled softly until she looked down at the cast on her leg. Her face fell and her heart shattered.

Her quiet sobs reached Leon’s ears and he woke up immediately. He cupped her face with his hands and brought her to his chest as she cried. She wrapped her hands around his back and held on to him. Her whole passion and dreams were now gone. And it wasn’t even her fault.

She spent months in her bed, getting up only to eat and go to the bathroom. But that was it. Leon took the liberty to take care of her. To bathe her, to feed her, to try and distract her. But she always had that emptiness in her eyes. Her light was gone and she was no longer under the spotlight. The ballet house had to let her go since her leg was so injured she couldn’t dance ballet anymore. She could dance but just not ballet. And it broke her soul.

She would no longer wait for the curtains to open, she would no longer dance along to the orchestra, she would no longer spot Leon sitting among the crowd watching her. It was all gone.

Leon slept on the couch as he took care of her. But even from the living room he could hear her cries. He noticed the way she lost her muscle and lost weight.

He walked to her room and sat down on the side of the bed with food. “You need to eat, y/n…” he spoke softly as he laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not hungry.”

He couldn’t do anything but frown. He didn’t want to force her to get better but he also hated seeing her in this state. He would do anything to go back in time and prevented the whole thing from even happening.

He helped her shower, kneeling down against the bathtub as she had her back to him. She had her knees on her chest and hugged her legs. His fingers gently massaged the shampoo into her scalp. It wasn’t anything sexual. He was just trying to help her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled under her breath as he poured water down her hair to wash off the shampoo. He furrowed his brows and replied back in a soft voice, “What for?”

She rested her chin on her knees and continued, “For all of this. I feel like a burden to you. You could be doing better things but instead you’re taking care of my depressed ass…”

His heart broke again, his fingers stopped going through her wet hair as he tried to think of a way to reply to her. “You’re not a burden… I chose to take care of you, none of this is your fault…” he whispered softly. She frowned as he kept washing her hair, “I know but… I just feel so… empty.”

He couldn’t do anything except stare at the back of her head with a sad look. He kept washing her hair and her body in silence. He wasn’t a man of words but he hoped that his actions spoke for the lack communication. He hoped she took his actions as a way of comfort. Because he knows what it’s like to lose something you love. He knows that feeling all too well.

He helped her into some new pajamas and tucked her to bed. He was about to leave when she took hold of his wrist, “Stay.”

She wanted him to stay.

And he did. He laid down next to her on the bed. She laid her head on his chest and cried. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. His shirt getting wet from her tears but he didn’t care. Leon ran his hand through her hair as the other rubbed her back gently. Her hands gripped on his shirt as she sobbed.

Her head remained on his chest as she slept after crying. And he did not move. He stayed like he told her to. Not because he was forced, but because he wanted to.

And he’d stay all the time if he was able to.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy angst #re4 leon #re4r leon #id leon kennedy #death island leon #re2 leon #re2r leon #light angst

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dragoncat223 · 1 year

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I’ve been thinking about this for the past couple of days. A more mature Scooby-Doo series can be done, and it can be done well. I’ve seen a lot of proposals for an adult Scooby-Doo series, so here’s mine.

Fred doesn’t have family. His parents change from series to series. The only consistent thing about Fred’s family is that it is uncertain, so it starts like this: Something strange and unexplained happened to Fred’s parents when he was a child. He was five years old and ever since he’s been filled with only questions. So he grows up with a curiosity that can never be satisfied. He goes to college, and gets a degree in physics. All the moving parts of any kind of machine is have always fascinated him. As a little ten year old he’d stand for hours in Krispy Kreme watching the machine that makes the donuts. So he’s an inventor. His pride and joy is his old van he paid $100 for an fixed up himself.

The Blakes are old money. They haven’t known financial insecurity since the 1610s. So they’ve got houses, and planes, and helicopters, and cars. Old cars. But the head of the family, (picks name out of hat) Robert “Dick” Blake has no idea how to take care of them. He’s a business man. He finds Fred Jones, a genius mechanic, and hires him on the spot.

Now, Dick loves his daughters dearly. All six of them. He’s been grooming his oldest to take over the company when he retires. Unfortunately that means he gets to spend less and less time with his other daughters to the point where his youngest daughter, Daphne, only gets to see him on holidays and her birthday (he’s trying, he really is). But Daphne is fine with that. After being raised in the lap of luxury, silver spoon in her mouth, she has had access to almost every hobby imaginable. She got excellent grades at her fancy private schools, and in her free time she did Karate, Boxing, Kick boxing, Mixed Martial arts, gymnastics, Ballet, tap dancing, tennis, basketball, soccer, volley ball, skiing, knitting, crochet, baking, embroidery, sewing, synchronized swimming, you name it, she’s done it. She graduated college with a degree in marketing she didn’t really want, wondering what she was going to do with her life. So, she wonders into the garage one day and discovers Fred working on a car. So she asks him about it. She listens and she learns. Eventually, they stop talking about cars. Daphne asks about Fred’s inventions and Fred asks about Daphne’s hobbies. They are fast friends and once they get close enough, Fred tells Daphne about his parents. Daphne immediately pledges to help her friend (and now secret crush) figure out what happened to his parents.

Velma is Daphne’s genius best friend. They were roommates in college. The building Velma had all her lab classes in had Daphne’s last name on it. Velma worked hard to get her scholarship for her forensic chemistry degree, and she was not going to let some spoiled, rich, daddy’s girl, ruin it for her. But one night Velma was walking back to her dorm after dark. Everyone knows to be wary on a college campus after dark, but Velma had just studied her brain into mush. She got cornered by some drunk asshole. Velma in her fear and panic, froze. Her voice wouldn’t work, and she feared for her life, when suddenly, the guy gets punched in the face. By Daphne. The guy crumples to the ground, Daphne grabs Velma by the wrist, and they don’t stop running until they are safely back in their dorm. Velma never doubts her again.

Now, for all their skills and knowledge, none of the three of them, know how to cook. Which is where Shaggy and Scooby come in. I saw someone (on Twitter, I think) say that Shaggy could have diabetes (I don’t know anything about diabetes so I am really sorry about any inaccuracies) and Scooby is Shaggy’s low blood sugar alert dog. I really like the idea that Shaggy is a licensed dietitian, and the only one who knows how to cook. After every case, shaggy herds them all back home and makes a nice, home cooked meal for everyone. Lasagna, stir fry, curry, soup, idk food.

Shaggy is Fred’s roommate, after college. They have a deal, Shaggy cooks, Fred cleans.

In my mind, Scooby starts off as a normal dog. On the gang’s very first case together, they encounter the series’ over all villain, or maybe the first villain they face is an actual witch or something I don’t know, but this witch is caught and tries to put a curse on the gang, but it hits Scooby instead, and now he’s a talking dog. He’s still very much Shaggy’s alert dog, but I like to think he becomes concerned with everyone’s health at least a little bit. They do all that running around, and all these mysteries they solve are very high stress, so he likes to make sure they get plenty of rest.

I’m not really sure about their first case, but I think every episode would start with a grizzly murder. We are using the R rating for blood and guts and bones and death. Not sex or nudity. And Fred is the only one who gets to swear.

Now, Daphne is the one that talks to clients. If they’re particularly shaken up, Shaggy will make them a hot drink and maybe give them a blanket.

I call it Scooby Doo: Private Investigators

I have more thoughts about this, so if you want to know more please ask!!

#scooby doo #shaggy rogers #daphne blake #fred jones #velma dinkley #shaggy and scooby #Scooby Doo PI

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hyperactively-me · 7 months

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NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE LISTEN TO ME PLEASE

141 Task Force + Ale and Kö with a ballerina civilian wife. THEN!!! (NO PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE LISTEN) They came back from a mission without warning and they go to a presentation bcse they never actually saw one AND!!!! Their wife almost pass out in the middle of the stage by seeing them there (they look at her all in love and proud UGHHH).

THIS IS HELLA CUTE BYE-

BESTIE I'M LISTENING. LOUD AND CLEAR. this is so cute omg!!! also, i've never written for anyone other than ghost, and i don't have the confidence to write for anyone other than simon, so please don't be upset but i will be writing this only for ghost. (although, i genuinely want to get some practice in writing for all the other COD men, which i am trying to somewhat do through my king!ghost au, i just don't wanna fuck up their characters too badly haha. if at any point i decide to write for the others, i will totally come back to this prompt!). also, i wanted to make this more into a oneshot rather than blurb/headcanons soooo! yeah!

As the soft notes of The Sleeping Beauty Suite filled the dimly lit theater, you stood backstage, your heart racing. You sat on a spare box, fastening your pointe shoes on securely. The spotlight beckoned, the hushed whispers of the audience creating a palpable tension in the stiff air. The curtains were about to rise, and you were the prima ballerina. As you finished fastening your pointe shoes, you stood, brushing out your tutu. The weight of anticipation bore down on you, but you stood tall, chin up, back straight. You had practiced this routine a hundred times. It was just another night, another ballet. Nothing you weren’t used to.

Except it wasn’t.

You didn’t know your husband had just slipped in through the doors. He was still in his uniform, except for his mask and tactical gear. He never wore the mask around you.

You had no idea that tonight would be different. All you knew was that Simon was not supposed to come back home for another three weeks. He had been deployed for three long months now. Your heart ached just thinking about how long you’ve been without him, the loneliness and longing that came with being a military spouse weighing heavy on you.

The sudden sound of the orchestra snapped you out of your daydream, and the curtain began its ascent. Your delicate tutu billowed around you as you took your first step onto the stage, your body moving with the grace and precision that only years of training could produce.

But then, in the midst of your pirouettes and arabesques, something caught your eye in the sea of dimly lit faces. A figure, tall and strong, standing in the back of the theater. The world around you blurred as your heart leapt into your throat. It couldn't be.

Simon.

The shock of seeing him in the audience was enough to make you falter, to disrupt the airy balance of your performance. You stumble over your feet slightly, your knees shaky from the sudden interruption.

You recover as best you can, continuing to dance. Your eyes locked onto his, you wanted to cry. He was home early. And he was here to watch you. His expression was one of awe and pride, like a lovesick puppy gazing at his beautiful wife.

You pranced and twirled, lost in the music and the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. It was as if the two of you were the only people in the world, the stage your sanctuary.

As the final notes of the music filled the theater, you struck your final pose, your breath ragged, your body trembling. The audience erupted into applause, their adoration washing over you like a warm embrace. But your eyes remained locked with Simon's, who was clapping with ferocious fever. His eyes never left yours. You flash him a teary, wet smile.

As soon as the curtains closed, you fell from your pose, taking in a ragged breath.

Your fellow ballerinas had come up to congratulate you on a beautiful performance, but all you could do was say a rushed “thank you” before you were running through the backstage area. The backstage was a labyrinth of bustling dancers, stagehands, and dimly lit corridors. Your heart raced as you rushed to find a way out into the audience to reach Simon. The echoes of applause still reverberated through the walls, but all that mattered now was him.

Finally, you burst through a side door that led to the theater’s lobby. And there he was, waiting for you, his eyes shining with unbridled love and pride. His dark uniform was a stark contrast to the delicate pink of your ballet attire.

Without a word, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you, lifting you off your feet. The world around you ceased to exist as you held each other, tears of joy streaming down your face. His calloused hands wrap around you, squeezing you tight against him.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into his ear, your watery voice filled with pure happiness.

“I missed you so much, love.” Simon placed you gently back on your feet, his hands cradling your face with care, wiping away your tears.

“I missed you, Si,” you take in a shaky breath. “So much.”

“I– I can’t believe you’re here, how did you know?”

“I would never miss my wife’s performance, now would I?”

A mixture of laughter and tears escaped your lips as you leaned in to kiss him, a deep and passionate kiss. It felt like a dream come true that he was here, watching you perform. It had been ages since he was last able to come to one of your performances, and his support meant the world and more to you. You pull away from the kiss, shoving your face into his neck.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his voice reverberating in your eardrums. “You looked beautiful, look beautiful.”

You pull back, looking at him with a huge smile, rubbing his back gently. "Thank you, Si."

He pulls you back into a tight embrace, wrapping you in his warmth and burly arms. More tears welled up in your eyes, and you clung to him, feeling the weight of the months apart melt away.

His words warmed your heart. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The two of you held each other close, savoring the moment as long as you could.

#*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme #hyperactivelyme requests

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annwrites · 4 days

Text

exactly what he needs, pt. 1 ♡ ⋆｡˚

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (going to be multi-chapter)

— summary: nate asks you for private tutoring, using the excuse that no one can find out, due to who his father is—the über perfectionist & king of east highland. you agree, since you've tutored others, and do so through a school program, at that. as such, he'll be no different than the rest who've needed your help. as time goes on, though, and the gifts, phone calls, and texts begin to pile up, as well as him driving you to and from school, and his near-constant insistence on "hanging out", you wonder if nate ever really needed academic help in the first place., or if it was all a ruse for something more troubling to take place.

— tags: homework, studying, tutoring, nate lusting after/fantasizing about you & wanting to make you wholly his

— tw: misogyny, lying, dollification, sexualization

— word count: 4,144

— a/n: this is going to be part of a series, as indicated above. this post will serve as part 1. i promise it will get juicier going forward, i just needed to lay some groundwork for the reader & nate.

After McKay's party and Maddy's fucking another guy in his pool for all to see—completely humiliating and emasculating him—Nate was done with her. No, beyond done. He'd wasted how much time, money, and effort on her? All for her to turn out to be the whore he'd always known her to be.

She was always too loud. Too attention-seeking. Too selfish and spoiled. The kind of girl who used the excuse of being "brutally honest" and a refusal to "take any shit" just to be a bitch to whoever she pleased. And she always got away with it, too.

Well, not this time. Not with him. She was going to learn what being on her own finally felt like.

Besides, she'd never been his type. Not really.

She was nice to look at, sure, and he'd thought her loyal. How fucking stupid he'd been to do so. But that was all she'd had going for her in the end.

And then there had been Cassie—one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made had been hooking up with her. He'd thought her different than who she turned out to be. She pretended to be so pure and wide-eyed, when in reality she was fucking psychotic and obsessed with him. He couldn't stomach that level of desperation from a girl.

The night she had completely lost it in his bedroom, screaming about how "crazy" she was had been the last straw.

And the fact she'd so easily betrayed Maddy? Who knew how long before she did the same to him. That was the last thing he needed to worry about.

Nate leans back, barely paying attention to what Ms. Clark is teaching the class at-present. His attention is instead focused on you.

You, who's been there since Nate was five-years-old and in kindergarten. You, who's always been quiet and soft-spoken, reserved and smart, sweet and shy, and who has no reputation whatsoever to speak of—he'd even gone so far as to check for you on SlutPages, and you'd been, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found. You were the very definition of innocent.

You, who didn't dress like a slut or go out of your way to get attention. Hell, you didn't even go to parties or football games. Not that he'd ever seen you at either, at least.

He may've looked for you in the stands last Friday night, for whatever reason, despite knowing you wouldn't be there. But he had hoped, even for a moment.

Personality-wise? You were perfect for him. Exactly what he needed; had needed all along. He could kick himself for not seeing it sooner. But better late than never that he did so now.

The way you dressed? He wasn't sure how he felt about it. It suited you well-enough, sure, but he liked to imagine you in cute babydoll dresses, with your hair down and softly curled, a pair of ballet flats on your feet, as opposed to your usual sweaters or blouses, with plaid or high-waisted skirts, your hair typically in a high-ponytail or bun.

He saw your potential, your beauty. Your potential beauty, even.

He knew he needed an excuse to talk to you again after all these years, as he couldn't remember the last time he'd done so—the beginning of middle-school perhaps? He knew you tutored, so he chose the subject you seemed most passionate about—history—and his plan was set.

He spends the remainder of class watching and admiring you. Your delicate handwriting, the soft look in your eyes, your dainty hands, slim shoulders, and your perfect posture. He becomes so engrossed that he jolts when the bell rings, signaling the end of class, ripped from his daydreams of walking down the halls, your hand in his, soft feminine dresses hanging from your frame, your hair falling in soft waves down your back as every guy sees that you're his now.

As every guy realizes that they can look, but never touch, as he presses kiss after kiss to your pink lips, your soft body pressed between his and the lockers, you quietly giggling as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he walks you to your next class.

Ever-polite, you wait until nearly everyone else has rushed out of the classroom before you follow suit.

Nate's already standing behind you and notes how cute it is—your complete obliviousness to his presence. It was refreshing, actually, for a girl not to be throwing herself at him for once.

"Y/N," he says, softly.

You jump, nearly dropping your books. Before you can speak, wondering why he's wanting your attention in the first place—as the two of you never speak—he reaches out, gently taking your books from your arms. He then nods his head toward the door. "I'll walk you to your locker. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Completely bewildered, you simply head in the direction of the door and go to your locker. You fumble with the dial for a moment, screwing up the combination the first time, but thankfully getting it on the second.

You take your books from him, placing them all back where they belong before turning to him. "Thank you"

He immediately likes how polite you are. "Welcome," he replies.

As you ready your materials for your next class, you speak again. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

He leans his side against the locker next to yours. How had he never noticed that you were just a few rows down from his own before?

"Before I tell you, I need you to promise me it stays between us. I don't want other people finding out."

It was both a truth and a lie. The lie being that it was, more than anything else, a test. A test to see if even this early on, you'd simply make yourself agreeable to him, if you'd keep a secret simply because he asked you to.

He wants to know how much you'll prod before just caving and giving him what he wants.

You look at him, then. "I..." You trail off for a moment. The first time he speaks to you in how many years and that's the first thing he says to you?

He smirks in understanding of your hesitation. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I'm not about to ask you to hold drugs for me or something."

A bit of reassurance—that much he could offer without issue.

"Okay, I promise."

He fills with satisfaction. Already he can tell you're easily submissive. He hopes for as much, at least.

"I'm uh...I'm not doing too well in history. I got a D on the last test, and I'm close to failing the class as a whole. I was wondering if you'd be willing to tutor me?"

You turn fully toward him, then, filling with understanding. He's ashamed.

You give him a kind, sympathetic look and he adores you all the more for it.

"You don't need to be embarrassed about asking for help, Nate. It's why the school has a tutoring program. You're doing the right thing for yourself." You remove a flyer for said program from your locker, placing your heart-shaped magnet back where it goes. "Here, there's a list of resources and tutors for—"

He immediately cuts you off, shaking his head, placing the flyer back under that same magnet. Because of course you have pastel-colored magnets of hearts and clouds and flowers on the inside of your locker.

He looks at you. "I asked you for a reason. It needs to be kept a secret for a reason. I mean, you know who my dad is: King-Asshole-of-East-Highland. If he found out that I'm almost failing one of my classes, and much more asking for outside help, instead of just taking care of the problem myself..."

He shakes his head again, hoping the my-dad-is-too-tough-on-me-and-expects-nothing-less-than-perfection routine has worked.

You shift from one foot to the other, unable to understand how anyone could see their child taking the steps to actually get help as a bad thing, as a failing, or short-coming. But Cal Jacobs did seem to be nothing if not perfect. Perfect image, perfect job, perfect business, family, home—you name it.

"Why me?" You ask, genuinely curious. There's a whole roster of tutors signed up with the school, not to mention a couple teachers who also offer academic help after-hours a few times a week.

"I've known you my entire life. I trust you to keep this just between the two of us."

Simple enough answer, you think.

You close your locker then. "What subject?"

"History."

Your favorite one, at least. You'd never been the best at math. Had he said it instead, he'd be finding someone else, whether he liked it or not. You'd just get him worse grades in the end, if nothing else.

"Ok, we could um...we could meet at the library. They have study rooms for—"

He interrupts you again. "No, it needs to be your place, if that's ok. I don't want to risk anyone seeing me getting help in public."

Once again, a truth and a lie. More than anything he just wanted—no, needed—to get you alone and all to himself.

"Oh." You hesitate for a moment, but don't really have an excuse as to why you can't do it at your house. So, you relent. "That's fine, I guess. When did you want to start?"

"Today, if that's cool with you."

That soon, you think.

You nod. "Today is fine." Your brows furrow. "Do you know where I live? If not, I could give you my address?"

He smirks. "Or I could just drive us there. I have my truck. You won't have to take the bus."

Won't that arouse suspicion among his friends? The two of you suddenly being seen together? "Your friends won't ask questions?"

He'd not thought of that. Stupid. He simply shrugs, pretending not to care. "If they do, I'll just tell them to mind their own business."

You raise a brow for a moment, doubting they will, but suppose it doesn't really matter to you either way. It's his secret that he's desperate to keep, not yours.

The bell rings, letting you know you have two minutes to get to your next class. "Ok, I'll see you after school then."

"See you then," he replies with a smile.

Once school has let out for the day, you nearly go to get on the bus, then remember just before walking up the first step, that you're being driven home by Nate today.

It's strange to think about: you, with Nate Jacobs, in his truck.

Even when you were little the two of you had never exactly been friends. But you suppose that can always change. Not that you're sure that you want it to.

It seems like wherever Nate goes, drama follows. First with Maddy and whatever had happened weeks ago at McKay's party. Something had happened the night of the fair—something bad—but no one would talk about it. And then he'd apparently gotten with Cassie, which was...a recipe for disaster, to put it plainly.

You don't like drama. Don't like the people who seem to thrive on it. And he certainly seems to be one of them. Someone who's always in the middle of it, at least.

Then you tell yourself you're just being silly. You're going to be tutoring him, that's all. You doubt it will ever even build up to friendship.

Once you've made it into the parking lot proper, you begin to scan it, looking down row after row of vehicles until you see Nate watching you, a smirk on his face as he leans back against the front of his Dodge pickup.

You wait as a car passes, then finally come to stand in front of him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"You ready?" He asks.

As he looks down at you, you only just now realize how much of a disparity there is between your heights. You look up at his towering form, suddenly incredibly self-conscious of how short you are. Somehow it makes you feel childlike...

Meanwhile, Nate absolutely eats it up. It'd be all too easy to toss you around on a bed like a ragdoll, he thinks.

Finally, you nod.

You both walk around to the passenger side, but before you can ask him—your brows now furrowed—what he's doing, he opens the door for you to get in. "Oh, thank you," you say, climbing into the oversized truck.

Who needs vehicles these big...

"Welcome," he says, shutting the door.

As you buckle yourself in, setting your backpack at your feet, you watch as he walks around the front of the truck to get in and internally cringe, wanting to try and climb down into the floorboards to hide, when you see Cassie staring directly at you. If looks could kill, you would've been dead instantly.

You want to get out and tell her it's not what she thinks it is, but you're broken from your staring straight back at her when Nate closes his door and the truck revs to life. After buckling himself in, he looks at you, noticing you've now gone pale.

No way you considered him opening your door as him having already gone too far.

"Everything okay?"

You look at him. "Cassie is staring at us. I think she might think that we're-"

He puts the truck into gear, pulling out of the lot. "Who gives a damn what she thinks."

Once the two of you are on the road, you clear your throat. "Do you know where I live?"

In truth, he doesn't. "No, sorry, you'll have to give me directions."

And you do, until, finally, he pulls into your front driveway.

You're not sure why your stomach is full of butterflies. Perhaps because no one comes over to your house. Ever. You're almost always here alone. Your dad is the only parent you have left—your mother having signed over full-custody of you to him when you were too young to even remember her, and he's always away for work—so hosting company isn't exactly a regular thing.

The house is clean, and you'd also recently been grocery shopping, so it isn't as if you have anything to worry about.

The two of you exit his truck and you make your way to the front door, quickly unlocking it.

Once you've both entered the house, you watch nervously as he takes in the living room.

Your house isn't anything special. It has all the necessities for living and comfort, but it isn't like something out of a magazine.

You tell yourself you're fine with that.

You silently slip off your shoes and Nate does the same, following your lead. You then step onto the plush carpet and turn back to him, still standing before the door. "I'm going to go change and then we can start. The dining room is this way," you say, nodding your head to the right.

You walk through the entryway, into the aforementioned room. You set your backpack down on a chair, then walk straight ahead, through the kitchen, and into your bedroom around the corner.

It's only a moment, but while you change, Nate snoops.

He notices how little your house seems to be lived-in. How neat and tidy and damn-near spotless it is.

And that the two of you are alone.

He silently unzips your backpack, quickly rifling through it. A couple textbooks, some fantasy novel, and your binder. He wants to go through every folder, but refrains, knowing he doesn't have the time and it's too big of a risk. He's fairly certain he won't find anything interesting in it anyway.

Finally, he sits, pulling his history book and tonight's homework out of his own.

When you finally enter the dining room again, Nate looks up. He isn't sure what kind of outfit he'd been expecting, but sweatpants and a light-purple t-shirt hadn't been it.

He wishes you'd worn something that shows off the beautiful body you have instead. Not...that.

He mentally shrugs. You're in your home, trying to be comfortable. He actually really likes that you hadn't put on something meant to impress him.

You aren't fake. Another thing he really likes about you. Not that he's making a mental checklist, or anything.

He sees you eye the other side of the table, but before you can take another step toward it, he pushes out the chair next to him with his foot.

You stop for a moment, then decide sitting next to him is fine, too. So you take the seat he's offered you and notice he's already pulled out his history book and the worksheet you'd both been given for homework as well.

You'd already done yours during your free period.

You slide the book over to yourself and flip it open to the chapter your class is currently working through.

"You're in luck, because the period of history we're going over right now is actually my favorite."

He rests an arm on the wooden dining table, turning toward you. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

You raise a brow. "You don't even know what time period we're working through?" You ask with a smile.

He grins in response. "To be completely honest, I don't really give a shit about history. I know, I know. The whole, if you forget, you're going to repeat it shit. I guess I just don't believe any of that."

"I don't think it's that serious. But if you hope to pass and get past junior year, having the credit for this core class is imperative. And it's the Dark Ages, by the way. Also known as the medieval period."

He snickers. "Imperative, huh?"

You withdraw into yourself. He's making fun of you.

He quickly notices the smile disappear from your face and realizes how he'd sounded. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to mock you. It's just... Nobody talks the way you do. Not at East Highland, at least."

You pretend to take interest in the book sitting before you. "And what way is that?"

"I don't know. Intelligently, I guess." He says it with a shrug.

You give a small smile at that, and he knows he's off the hook.

He sets the worksheet Ms. Clark has given for homework between the two of you.

"Do you know all of this?"

You look at him and nod. "I already got mine done."

"Of course you did. So," he looks down at it. "What is the name of the English civil war fought between the years of 1455-1487?"

He looks at you then.

You glance down to the book. "I don't know, what was the name of it?"

He shakes his head, a playful look on his face as he begins to skim through the pages. He looks up to you, then. "I could just Google all of this."

You lean back in your seat. "You could. But the point of reading the material and studying it, is so you have a chance of actually remembering it when there's a test. Hopefully for even longer, like, once you've graduated as well."

He shrugs again. "It's not all bad, I guess. Also gives me an excuse to talk to you."

He was putting his motives right out in the open now. But instead of you seeing this study session, this request for tutoring as exactly that—a motive to get close to you and make you his—you blush.

You don't know what to say in response, so you just give him the answer. "It's the War of the Roses."

He stares at you for a moment longer, then writes down what you've said.

He leans back. "So, why is this your favorite period of history?"

You look at him. "I guess the romanticism of it, even if it wasn't an entirely romantic time period. Civil war, the plague, men beheading their wives... Did you know most high-fantasy takes its inspiration from medieval Europe?"

He shakes his head, content to continue listening to you talk about something you're passionate about. He likes the way you light up when you do so.

You grow quiet. "Sorry, that sounded stupid."

He shakes his head, resting his arm on the back of your seat. "I don't think so. I may not care for history, but I think it's sweet that you do. I mean, I'm into football. But I'm sure that, just because you're not into it, you'd never call me being on the team stupid."

You look at him. "No, I wouldn't."

He looks over the next question. "Have you ever been to any of our games?"

You shake your head. "Sports aren't really my thing."

"Not everybody comes for the actual game. Some just come to have a good time; get out of the house." He looks at you. "We have another game next Friday. Think you'd be interested?"

He can just imagine it now: you in the stands, your hair in pigtails, wearing one of his old jerseys, cheering him on. And then you running into his arms as he scores the winning touchdown, wrapping your legs around his middle as he lifts you, you bringing your lips down to his.

You telling him how proud you are of him.

You shrug, now feeling awkward at wanting to tell him no. So you don't. "Maybe."

Better than a no, he thinks. He has nearly two-weeks to convince you into a yes.

Once Nate has completed his worksheet and you've checked it for any wrong answers—he'd surprisingly only had a couple—he packs up his things to head home.

You walk him to the door. "You did really good today. Only two wrong answers."

He slips on his shoes. "Well, I have a good teacher."

You smile, letting out a small laugh. "We'll see just how good after our next test."

He clears his throat. "So uh, I was thinking, maybe I could pick you up tomorrow morning? I could start driving you to and from school as a whole. I'm sure my truck beats riding a bus twice every day."

You blanch. "N-no, it's fine, really. I don't mind. And not that you have to continue doing it, but driving me home is more than enough. I don't want to be any trouble."

He shakes his head. "No trouble. It's on my way, really. I'd like to."

He dislikes your hesitancy, even if he understands it. He knows he's coming on too strong right now, but he feels like he can't fucking help himself.

After sitting there with you for the past hour, listening to your voice, smelling your sweet scent, you blushing and laughing at the things he said—not to mention him having to excuse himself to the bathroom at one point to get the erection you'd given him to go back down—he knew he needed more of you. Afternoon study sessions weren't going to be nearly enough.

He leans against the doorway, refusing to leave until you've given him what he wants—how little do you know that's soon to be your future as a whole. Him not stopping until you've caved to him. "Listen, I'm the one who's the burden here. I know tutoring is a thing you do anyway, but not like this. I really appreciate it; you have no idea how much. This is just some small way of me trying to say thank you. Of trying to repay you."

You shift from one foot to the other. "Only if you're sure..."

"Positive."

He fishes his phone out of his pocket. "We should probably exchange numbers, just incase something comes up one morning and one of us is sick, or a I get a flat, or whatever. Or if one of us has to leave school early."

You nod. "Ok."

After you give him your number, he shoots you a text. A simple 'hi'.

You smile at him. "I got it."

He puts his phone back away, determining that today was full of small victories, bringing him a step closer to making you his. "I can pick you up a little after seven. That work for you?"

You nod, your stomach now full of butterflies again. Not because of some crush you'd suddenly developed in the last hour. No. You were worried about vile rumors being spread around the school.

You getting into his truck today, you were sure, had probably already bred one or two of the vicious things.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

You nod. "That's fine."

He gives you a smile. "See you then."

"See you," you reply as he leaves.

You watch from the front door as he drives away.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x y/n #euphoria x reader #nate jacobs imagine

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thesharktanksdriver · 10 months

Text

Weaving threads of friendship (mostly platonic)

Refer to this post.

As the people requested, Hobie’s partner meeting Miles.

This one is significantly shorter than my last one partially cause I think this is pretty straightforward

From the moment Miles Morales heard of Hobie brown he didn’t know exactly how to feel about him

It happened in passing as he and Gwen had swung through the city

The first time since the collider incident that he had seen her, months of wondering if she was fine

If she and the others had made it back safe

And now as they go around city just like he had hoped if she mentions him

He couldn’t help but feel a twang of panic

Feelings he’s harboured for the blond that had been simmering for a long while coming to a bubbling uproar

Didn’t help as he pushed the subject and got in response that she had apparently been living with him

An ugly seed of envy sprouts it’s way into his gut at that

He can’t help but feel ashamed of it

This was Gwen, of course she found someone. She was the coolest person he knows

Someone who could do ballet while fighting villains

Plus was apart of some kickass band in her dimension

He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if she was selling out stadiums

And if she wasn’t currently, then he fully expected that for her future

He should feel happy that she found someone

Happy that she was in a good place

Yet it’s hard to ignore that sprouting envy as his emotions are already high enough as it is when seeing her again

It doesn’t help when he meets Hobie though

Having a moment to prove himself and then suddenly having it quite literally dashed open

With a guitar no less

Doesn’t help that he was cool as hell

The studded black leather vest

Spike Mohawk

Doc Martin boots

British accent

Silver gleaming piercings

Miles knew he couldn’t compare to him

And by god did it hurt

From the moment Hobie saw miles he knew knew he’d like the accidental Spider-Man

It might be due to the fact that Miguel did NOT want him apart of the Spider regime

On the fact that him being Spider-Man went against canon

But it also had to do with the fact that he recognized how he looked at Gwen

It’s how Hobie looked at you

Sure, he couldn’t see under the mask but it was very glaringly obvious to Brit

That was the gaze of someone who was in a deep passionate love

Something akin to fizzling fireworks that popped off in the night

Pop rocks exploding on your tongue on a humid day

Sappy romantic shite that he once never thought he’d think of

Until he rapidly found himself staring at you with that same expression

It makes him chuckle a bit thinking back

How glaringly obvious he was with his feelings yet you couldn’t accept the signs

Not until he told you face to face

Good times

With that look he also sees a slight sadness with it as well

Miles occasionally glancing at him and then back to Gwen

The slight bitter taste Miles held in his voice when addressing him

But what…oh

That realization almost makes Hobie burst out in laughter

Poor lad is probably running circles in his head for nothing

He’s definitely gonna have to tell him

One the tour of the HQ Hobie lingers close by to the newbie

Hands on his pockets as Jessica leads to way to Miguel’s sulking area

With the lame and inconveniently slow office floor elevator

A perfect example of capitalism

He pulls Miles aside with an arm around his shoulder, making Mikes give a noise of complaint

Until Hobie pulled out a Polaroid from an inner pocket of his vest

In it was Hobie with another person

Both staring up at the camera as he gave them a kiss

Miles looks to him in confusion

“I thought you and-“

“Gwenivere? Nah mate. S’ just crashin at my place cause home ain’t the best for her right now.”

“And that’s?”

“Yeah, my partner in crime so to say. Should meet them sometime, they’d like ya”

“Really?”

“Gwen won’t stop talking bout you.”

Hobie stifles a laugh at Miles’s face

The look of surprise and Fluster washing over the young lad as he shoots a glance at Gwen

Who all the while remained obvious to his stare as he directs it to the ground once more

Hobie grabs a new piece of tech as he does this

Pocketing it as he did with many other nick-knacks he’d found and swiped

To be fair, if it’s not nailed to the ground real nice then it’s free territory for grabbing

Or well…that’s what he tells others anyways

The piles of scrap pilled up in both his home and your room is a testament to that

As was the prototypes of his own dimension hoping bracelet

When you met Miles you couldn’t help but be extremely excited as the young Spider-Man sat down on Hobie’s worn and old ripped leather couch

Gwen often talked of him

So now seeing him in person is a extremely fun experience especially since he’s awkward in a way that reminds you of your past self

Conversation starts off slow at first

Stuff mostly revolving around his universe

What he liked

Etcetera Etcetera

But what really gets talk happening is when he brings up drawing

In a life in which your surrounded by musically artistic people it’s nice to have someone with a new passion

So it’s safe to say he quickly ends up showing you his sketchbook

Carefully showing you pages of graffiti tags

Mural ideas

And a few that had Gwen that he quickly flipped to a different page

You don’t comment on it but your grin alone tells him what he needs to hear

Speaking of which, Gwen is ecstatic that you get to meet Miles

She would not spot talking about it even before the whole “don’t tell mikes about the spider society” situation happened and was figured out

You definitely tease her a bit about it

And Miles as well

Buts it’s all in good nature

Miles finds you to be down to earth and Hobie’s translator of sorts

He doesn’t at all get British slang or can understand what Hobie is talking about so you help with that

Using an phrases and metaphors work better for his American understanding

He thanks whatever god there is for that cause sometimes he swears Hobie is making up shit just to confuse him

If you show him all the handmade gifts Hobie has made for you he gets a lot of creative inspiration

Especially since he’s always willing to step out of his normal medium

Show him how to make his own custom pins and he’ll return later with at least 15 plus a couple for you and Hobie

Their also really well drawn as well

So it’s a win win for everyone

At some point you secretly ask him to make some potential album cover art for Hobie and he is fucking ecstatic

He’s never done something like that before so he takes to trying it very seriously

Experimenting with styles

Trying new techniques

Eventually he settles down on a mix of graffiti and collage of news paper clippings

Cause apparently to him you both look as if your straight from newspaper clippings mashed together

Gwen can attest to this as well

Hobie ends up fucking loving it

And Gwen, Miles and Pavitr have to deal with the punk being all lovey dovey to you in a way they had never imagined Hobie to be

He’s peppering your face with kisses and swinging you around in a hug

You let out a small yell as he tosses you up and catches you

It’s honestly really sweet

“How did I once find him intimidating?”

“Eh, it’s not much of a surprise to me. You’d be surprised to find out how many Punk people are actually really sweet”

“I think it’s also cause you thought he was dating g-“

He eventually puts you down and pulls them into a hug

That quickly turns into him aggressively messing up their hair

“I take what I said back”

“Hey! Don’t mess with the hair! My beautiful natural hair!”

“Why am I even surprised anymore?”

Safe to say miles has become a new vital part of this group

And you wouldn’t have it any other way

#hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales x reader

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cemeteryspider · 2 months

Text

Ballet on the Bayou ~ Pt. 2

Alastor x Ballerina! Reader

Summary: The rise and the fall of an up and coming ballerina

Trigger Warnings: Graphic injury, bullying, physical pain, hospital setting

Word Count: 1516

Previous | Next

Ballet on the Bayou Masterlist

Practice had left you a tad sore and achy but that went away, as you peeked from the wings into the crowd. The place was practically packed with people. The speakers rang with static and announced the beginning of the show in a moment.

The lights in the crowd dimmed and you ran towards the backstage and allowed a deep breath to escape your lips, and you awaited your queue.

~~~

Earlier that same day...

"Ladies and Gentleman, Alastor signing off for the night but before I go, we have a truly special performance at Louisiana's favorite opera hall tonight, the Orpheum Theater, for a timeless classic. The Magnificent Swan Lake, starring up-and-coming ballerina Y/n L/n"

~~~

Alastor and his mother sat in the very middle of the audience. He hoped to never miss a moment of you. He had already called up a couple of friends and had a special gift sent to your dressing room after the performance.

They sat down before the lights dimmed, and his mother watched in awe as the curtains parted revealing a sparkling moonlit forest scene. Some dancers of the trope glided across the stage with the same grace as the swans they were dressed as.

Alastor looked carefully at every dancer, suddenly angry that he forgot to ask the beauty her part in the show. Then in a moment, the star of the show appeared onstage, and it was you.

You transform the scene and the other dancers gather round to create a captivating ensemble. The ensemble dances with such grace and unity it could be mistaken for a kaleidoscope of shapes.

You begin a graceful solo, dancing to the melancholic orchestra below. With a swift crescendo, the villain of the story jumps in, and Alastor could only assume, with his limited knowledge of the ballet, that turned you into a swan.

~~~

After the first act, you quickly rush into your dressing room to change into your Odile costume. This was the most stunning costume you had ever put on. You hoped that Alastor was in the audience to see it.

"Ah, while it isn't the perfect person to play to a two-faced bitch"

Louise said, barging into your private dressing room. Followed closely by her two friends whose names were never offered to you. You only knew Louise because her Daddy paid a fortune to have her be in the running for the two leads of the ballet. However, when the casting directors saw your performance they immediately put you on for both roles, as was tradition.

Trying to be civil you said, "Louise, it is a pleasure to see you as well".

"Yes well, I just wanted to stop by and tell you to break a leg this weekend" She giggled a little and stalked out of the room. Leaving your brows knitted together in confusion. The show must go on, however, and you finished getting ready for the rest of the show.

It didn't even come to your mind that Louise's jealousy could bubble so close to the surface.

~~~

Once again sitting in his seat after helping his mother to get a drink of water and stretch her legs, he quietly anticipated your return to the stage.

Again the lights dimmed and the curtains parted to reveal you dressed in black immersed in the blue lighting that surrounded you. With an air of mystery, you began your dance. Your legs were a symphony of strength and elegance, that wove a wonderful tapestry across the stage. The fluidity and grace you possessed were mesmerizing as you danced across the stage.

When you looked into the audience he could only hope you saw his awe in the darkness. Your eyes held so much passion yet an air of deceit from the character you portrayed. Every pirouette beckons the audience to come closer and experience the darkness and desire you emanated.

Then you made eye contact with the prince onstage, and your movements somehow became more intoxicating. The tempo quickened and when the music was at its loudest you started a series of dazzling turns that left not a single jaw dropped.

Your final pose was one of power and passion, and you held it as the last notes of the music lingered. The crowd left only a moment between the end of the number and a thunderous applause. Alastor happily joined in.

~~~

After bows, you ran into your dressing room quickly to touch up your makeup before going out and looking for Alastor. On the little vanity in the room was a dozen red roses with a little notecard, From Alastor. Your smile widened infinitely as you rushed out of the dressing room to go find him, forgetting completely about the makeup.

In the foyer, your eyes looked frantically around as other dancers looked to the more wealthy patrons of the opera house for a drink or two. You almost went to join them when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You were greeted with a wide smile and a hand held out for yours.

"You were just magnificent, mon cherie, just brilliant"

You let out a small embarrassed chuckle, as you turned to face him fully.

Once your hand was held in his, he kissed your knuckles just as he had the night before. A small blush crept up your cheeks and you began asking him all about the show, and his favorite parts of it.

~~~

Alastor did not miss a performance the whole week you were there, his mother sadly did not feel up to going to any more of your lovely performances.

Time after time, there would be a new dozen of red roses in your dressing room after your bows, but never at intermission. You would have to ask him how he was doing that. Each night you became more infatuated with the man coming to your shows.

With every bouquet Alastor sent you, something pulled on his heart strings. He knew you would not be in town forever, and he would need to discuss your plans for the future. He hoped he would be included in them.

However, during the last performance you had in New Orleans, something unexpected happened. One of the swans in the opening scene had stuck her leg out in front of one of your beautiful turns. She had a sly grin on her face as she watched you fall, her friends faces mirrors of her own.

Alastor heard the sickening crack as your ankle bent a way it should never bend. Alastor's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he witnessed Y/n's fall. The gasp of the crowd drowned in the turmoil of his emotions. A sickening feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Never in his many years did he think an injury would make him squirm, especially considering his hobby, but this made his insides thrash in his stomach.

You did not make a peep, you just allowed yourself to be gracefully carried off stage by the man who played the prince.

~~~

Once the backstage door closed behind you, you let out the bloodcurdling scream anyone in the hallway had ever heard.

Your foot dangled from your shattered ankle bone and you saw everything you worked so hard for disappear in front of your eyes. Tears rolled freely down your face and Charles set you down in a chair. He gave you a sad look as he ran back to the stage to see if the show would go on.

You knew that it was Louise's foot that caused your fall, and you knew it would be Louise who would go on in your stead. A wave of dizziness washed over you as Alastor came into your line of sight.

Alastor's voice, usually calm and composed, betrayed a hint of urgency as he spoke."Cher, they've already called an ambulance. It's on its way. Darling, I am so sorry" He knelt next to you and put a cold soft drink bottle against your ankle. You flinched slightly, but Alastor put his hand on your leg to keep you still.

"I shouldn't have shown her up, Alastor, otherwise I would still be on that stage, on any stage"

"What do you mean?"

"Louise, she did this, she wanted my part"

Louise was the bitch who tripped you and caused your "accident". He kept that name in mind for later, but now you were his only priority. He saw the wagon-looking car pull up outside. Gently he set the bottle down and hoisted you into his arms.

As you made your way to the ambulance with the help of Alastor you couldn't help but think of what you were leaving behind. The pain in your ankle mirrored the pain in your heart as you were carried outside. How could everything you've worked so hard for be gone before it could even really begin?

You tucked your teary face into his chest, and for some reason, he did not seem to mind it at all.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #littledolly2345 #hazbin #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel

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wordstome · 5 months

Note

What are the dads’ favorite bonding activities with their kids? 🥺

hello friend!!

Price: I like to imagine Price's girls are engaged in all sorts of extracurricular activities from ballet to the school play. I think his favorite bonding activity with them would be taking them out to eat after a recital or a performance. Just his little ladies and some good old greasy spoon diner food: what else could a man want? And you know that when the girls grow up, those nights are going to be some of their fondest childhood memories.

Ghost: Caden is a parallel play kind of kid. He's quietly doing his little crayon drawings next to Simon watching a tv show. I could also see them bonding when Simon takes Caden out to run errands with him, groceries and stuff. Caden gets a bit of socialization, and Simon is there if he gets overwhelmed and needs a bit of comfort. It really brings them together: the kid knows that no matter how distant his dad can be, he can always rely on Simon.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. His favorite bonding activity is taking his kids to the park. Impromptu soccer games, roleplaying on the playground equipment, buying them ice cream on a hot summer day. When Elodie's older, she stops going, preferring to hang out with friends or do her own thing. But I can see wayyyy in the future when she's an adult, she'll have a lot of nostalgia for those days and will love going on walks with her dad.

Gaz: Kyle is a planned activities kind of man, a very take the kids to Disney World and make lifetime memories sorta guy. Every summer the family gets an airbnb by the lake, and every winter they're off at a ski lodge. (Here's to that delicious, delicious dual income household.) Violet and Elliott are always the kids blowing into the first day of class full of stories about all the fun stuff they got up to over the summer.

König: Dress-up. Come on, you knew this was coming. He's so girldad. Ava can't keep her hands out of her dad's luscious locks, and loves making him paper crowns because of his callsign (he definitely speaks German with her at home so she knows what it means). He also buys Ava those big plastic playsets that are a grocery checkout or a little kitchen and roleplays little scenarios with her. Ava's a militant chef, by the way. She would make a great line cook.

Horangi: Concerts with his daughter, Ryujin. Probably a few raves, as well. Ryujin's a punk rock and indie scene kinda gal, but she'll listen to anything, and has a few favorite kpop groups whose concerts she's dragged Hong-jin to. He's a diehard Once (fan of the girl group Twice) himself. They've also definitely gotten a few tattoos/piercings together, which would be an odd thing to do with your dad if Ryujin's dad were not so cool.

Keegan: Same as Johnny, except instead of taking his kids to safe parks and soccer fields, he takes them into the woods. Camping, fishing, teaching them a bunch of useful skills. It's such a "things your divorced dad does with you when he doesn't know what else to do for the weekend you're staying with him" activity, but Jason and Cecelia have never had someone do those things with them before, so they're having a good time. Other than that, laser tag and airsoft is a big one. Keegan was hesitant to get them into stuff like that, but they've always been curious about his military career and things just sort of escalated from there. I saw this tiktok of a cosplayer in a Logan mask captioned "when you're playing airsoft with your 15-year spec ops dad" and it's the cosplayer plastering themselves against a wall in terror: that's Keegan's kids. He's not going to hold back when he plays, and they don't want him to.

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lunajay33 · 3 days

Text

Change Part.4

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.3

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since Daryl had gifted me these Ballerina slippers, I couldn’t take them off at home, I had practiced the swan dance with them it made me feel really special like he actually cared about me and my interests, then there was a knock at my door it was really late at night so I didn’t know who it was, I left my room walking out to the front door opening up the door and Daryl was there hunched over bloody and groaning

I was the only one home so I didn’t have to worry about Jackson or my parents coming out and making a scene, I wrapped my arm around his waist and steadied him with my other hand against his chest, leading him inside into the bathroom so he could sit on the floor, I rummaged through my cabinet looking for a first aid kit completely panicking

I grabbed it as I saw it tucked back in the corner, grabbing a cool wet cloth and sitting infront of him

“Daryl, what happened?” I asked as my voice shock, he was busted and blue all over and he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, I gently patted the cool cloth over his forehead swooping his hair back

I didn’t push him obviously he just wanted to sit in silence, whatever happened it was brutal and if I were him I wouldn’t wanna be in a chatty mood either, I continued to wash away the blood on his face and arms, sanitizing any cut I came across placing bandaids over the deeper ones wishing I could do something about his bruising

“Is there anywhere else I can help?” I asked just above a whisper as to not spook him wanting to keep him relaxed

He turned his back to me and slowly reached back and lifted his shirt up to his to his shoulders revealing some old deep welted scars and some fresh bleeding ones, so deep it hurt to think how he got them, I rinsed out my cloth and soaked it again since it was already filled with blood, cleaning and sanitizing having to cover them in bandages due to the size of them, my heart bleed for him, who would hurt Daryl he was the sweetest person in the world he deserved all the happiness it offered

“One sec” I threw the cloth in the sink and left to my room finding a oversized black shirt I had for sleeping and some bigger sweatpants, and a pair of boxers I had got once thinking they were pj shorts, bringing them back to the washroom

“Here you can change into these when you’re ready I’ll just be right outside the door if you need help” I said hearing him grunt as I closed the door

I heard shuffling around until the door opened and we made eye contact, I didn’t move and neither did he until……….his arms were wrapped around my and his face buried in my shoulder, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist

“I’m here for you Daryl, always”

He pulled back looking down at me with such dread in his eyes

“Can…..can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, I told you before you’re welcome to stay with me whenever you need, come on” I lead him to the kitchen getting him a glass of water and making a quick sandwich for him just incase he hadn’t had supper, I say with him in silence as he finished up

“Thanks”

“No problem” I placed the dishes in the washer holding my hand out to him he quickly took it and we went back to my room

“You can get in bed I gotta get in pjs too” I said smiling as he plopped down on the bed

As I was picking out some clothes he spoke up

“Yer wearing em” I looked back seeing he was looking at my feet, the slippers

“Oh ya, I was…….. “practicing” when you came, I love them” I smiled as I took them off and laid them on my cabinet

I quickly changed and laid in bed next to him, still leaving some space since we’ve never done this before

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Nah Angel, ya did more than enough” he smiled weakly

“Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

“I ain’t ever told anyone…….its my old man, mean prick” he said breaking eye contact

“You’re staying here from now on, or atleast when you feel you need a break” I said placing my hand in his under the blankets between us

“Wish I could stay with ya just me and you”

“Maybe one day, we could start over together and actually be happy” I said thinking about what that life would look like what we could be

“We can……….we will”

•12 Years Later🩷

“Daryl Come on you’re going to be late for work!” I yelled out as I pored some coffee into two thermos’

Daryl came rushing out of the washroom buttoning up his plaid shirt huffing and puffing

“Sorry just real tired from work” he said as he leaned in kissing me gently still as gentle as he was when we shared our first kiss so many years ago

“Well since tomorrow is Saturday and we’re both off how about we have a special day together, I’m all your Mr Dixon” I winked handing him over his coffee

“Can’t wait Mrs Dixon” he smirked

As I was at work grading papers I kept thinking about all the moments that lead to my life now, Daryl and I assigned as partners, becoming friends, then that night he came over injured from his demon of a father, after that things kind of snowballed we continued to hang out, he stayed over more nights growing our relationship stronger, eventually he asked me to and I quote “be his girl” obviously excepting, after graduation with both our save money we were able to get a little apartment in Atlanta while I studied to become a teacher and he worked at an auto body shop, once my schooling I was done we found a little cabin like house in the woods around the outskirts of our home town, sure it was conflicting but now that my family had moved away and it was only Merle around sometimes it felt more comfortable to be where we met and set our roots, the day we moved in and it was just the two of us he proposed with a little silver ring he made himself

•Flashback

“Hey Angel can ya get me that box on the counter?” Daryl asked pointing to a little green box laid amongst the clutter from the days move

“Sure!” As I picked it up and turned to hand it to him he was down on one knee rubbing his hands together his way of showing his nerves

“Baby?”

“Angel, the day ya stepped into my life I knew it was gonna change, my lil ballerina, never thought I’d be so lucky ta get a woman as sweet as ya but I wanna spend the rest of this life with you, will ya marry me Angel?”

•

We got married down at town hall, I wore a knee length canvas colors woven dress as he wore his nicest plaid that matched my dress and that night…….well it was a night to remember forever, I got a job at the school I grew up in and he got another job fixing motorcycles at a shop and that leads to now, I was incredibly happy with our lives I only wished I got to become a ballerina, Daryl use to watch me dance in my room sometimes helping me stretch and help with certain moves and still bought me anything ballerina or swan lake related, I even had a little collection in the spare room of our house but maybe………..maybe this little baby girl would like dance aswell I thought as I rubbed my little bump

Daryl and I didn’t really talk about kids much but here I am, 3 months pregnant and Daryl was more excited than I thought he’d be, even more gentle with me, treating me like glass it was adorable though, over the years I noticed he got more harsh with people I know deep down it’s because of his past but he was never like that with me and we always had talks when he was ready about things that happened to him, but every part of this man I love with my whole heart he changed my life for the better

I was broken out of my thought when one of my students called out to me

“Mrs Dixon what are those people doing out there?” Little Melanie asked pointing out the window

I got up and glanced outside to where the supposed problem was and what I saw caught my breath, people limping around ripping and biting into the flesh of others

“What the hell”

Part.5

Please lmk what you think and what you’d like to see in the story going forward, any notes or advice is appreciated 🩷🎀

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken

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