#all i hear is nutcracker | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparrowofthedawnsworld · 5 months

Text

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

@ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @streamsofstardust @builtbybrokenbells @shutupdevvie @gretasmokerising @stardustvanfleet @stardustcatcher @wildbluesorbit @jaketlover @of-infinite-wonders

@tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @ofburningskies

@sunandthemoontwinflames @juliensbakery

@jakesguitarsolo @gretavanfreaky

@ageofbarbarians @gretavanfleetposts

@gvfpal @theweightofjake @alwaysonthemend

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl @jakes-eyebrows

@watchingovergvff @streamingcolors-gvf

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @writingcold

@starcatcher-jake @sarakay-gvf @groovyvanfleet

@i-choose-the-road @stillstreetjoshua @doodle417 @positivegvfthings @greta-van-fics @greta-van-chaos @gretavanbitches

246 notes · View notes

leonstoenailunderhisbed · 2 months

Text

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

180 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months

Note

Hope you don't mind my idea, I may be a bit biased towards soldier lads ^^;

If your working with Lethal Company, how about a situation where the reader isn't scared of the Nutcracker, but is crazy enough to try and befriend it cause they like the fairytale that much?

OOO this is a big brain idea-

Nutcrackers stress me out,,but oh to befriend them..

.....

With the quota constantly rising, you and your team had to take greater risks on moons with more hostile creatures roaming about....all for the sake of selling scrap.

You four had different roles: One was a scouter, the second a budget manager, the third a fighter (they never left the ship without a shovel or zap gun), and you manned the ship while everyone else explored the facilities.

You watched the monitors and chatted with them through walkie-talkies, alerting them to loot or danger.

Although you've saved their lives more times than you could count on both hands, you kinda got bored and wanted to help collect scrap yourself.

One day, the bestiary on the terminal gets updated with a new creature:

The Nutcracker.

Not long afterwards, everyone returned to the ship freaking the fuck out. Nobody died, and the loot was decent, but they were very much shaken-up by this "Nutcracker" entity they encountered.

It apparently had a shotgun that made them all nearly deaf upon firing AND came close to blowing their brains out.

Yet viewing its model on the terminal did awaken a little bit of childhood nostalgia in you, seeing as it looked like a life-sized nutcracker soldier.

Back on Earth, you loved that fairytale: The Nutcracker and the Mouse.

You even watched performances of the ballet/suite around Christmas.

Least to say, you weren't scared of it..and you wanted to actually see this entity for yourself.

Your team opposed it, until one employee mentioned their scanner registered the shotgun as scrap--and you volunteered to go retrieve it since it could set you above the quota.

Obviously you weren't gonna do that, but managed to convince them to let you go alone.

So you get teleported into the facility, almost immediately spotting the Nutcracker on its patrol, walking around like a true soldier and clicking as it surveyed its surroundings.

You notice the upper half of its head extending, revealing a grisly fleshy eye in its "mouth" as it rotated around.

Now you knew it was likely just a machine controlled by a parasite, but you were still fascinated by it nevertheless.

Then your walkie talkie goes off.

"Hurry up, we leave at midni-"

You instantly turn it off, yet the Nutcracker was alerted.

Next thing you knew, it swung around the corner you were hiding, loading two bullets into it shotgun as it stomped closer and closer...

That's when you got an insane idea and pulled out some items you've held onto since starting this job:

A hard copy of the original Nutcracker tale and a smaller figurine of the soldier.

They were comforts from your childhood. You'd never sell them as scrap. Not even if they're worth a million dollars.

You see the entity hesitate, before the eye reveals itself again and stares at your treasured collectibles.

"I-I always liked your stories and ballets.." You stammer out, still facing down the barrel of its gun, knowing death could await you at any moment. "Could we....maybe be friends, Nutcracker, sir?"

You doubt the damn thing could even understand you...

But then it suddenly shifts its focus back on you and raises its gun, opening fire-

Yet you don't drop dead.

Instead you hear the hiss of a Bracken who was mere centimeters away from snapping your neck, and you realize a bullet tore through one of its leaves.

It looked betrayed, but the Nutcracker's one-eyed glare sent it scurrying back into the shadows.

Apparently it was scared of brief eye contact from all creatures, not just humans.

You couldn't believe what just happened.

The Nutcracker...defended you?

You began to thank it for saving your life, but it's cut short when you're teleported back to the ship and your crew is relieved it's not your dead body.

Yet they'd call you crazy if you even implied that you somehow befriended the entity that just tried killing them all...

So you keep this secret locked away in your journal, wondering if there's other Nutcrackers out there who'd act like the one who saved you.

#clanask #anonymous #lethal company x reader #lc x reader #lethal company nutcracker #headcanons

158 notes · View notes

starzioo · 23 days

Text

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓. 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘.

Hiii! This is a DracoxFem!Reader one-shot! In this story you are a ballerina. I saw this post of the Slytherin boys x a ballerina and I could just imagine Draco being absolutely in love with her. So here it is I hope you like!

WARNINGS: NONE <3

You sit on the stage of the Royal Opera House in London. Tightly wrapping the dusty pink ribbons around your ankles. Today was your rehearsal day for the production of The Nutcracker. You had been casted as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Most people would take this role as being easy and simple. But oh no, they would be terribly wrong. The movements you made had to be fluid and effortless, while also being regal. You sigh before standing back up and fixing your rehearsal tutu. You head over to your starting mark and give the signal to the director to start the music.

DRACO POV

I get out of the muggle-car behind my father. 'Muggles really think that this is the peak of transportation?' I think to myself as I look back at the black car behind me. "Good morning Mr. Malfoy. It's a pleasure to have you here again! Mr. Evan's is in a meeting right now and told me to tell you that he'll meet with you as soon as possible." A woman who I assume is Mr. Evan's assistant spoke to my father. "M'Alright." My father says obviously annoyed with the muggles tardiness. "Right this way then." The woman says with her smile not faltering. She walks a couple paces ahead of my father while I linger behind him. We step inside of the building. The interior looks to be made for royals. The architecture being elegant. She leads us down a couple hallways before stopping at a big door. "You may sit and wait here. Mr. Evan's will be here shortly. If you would like any refreshments or if you have any questions just head down the hallway and my desk is right there." My father only nods in response. She flashes her smile once more before heading down the hallway. Me and my father sit down on the waiting chairs. "Why are we here? Better question why am I here?" I turn and ask my father who's reading a muggle newspaper. He doesn't even look at me, "Because Draco. We are here on important business. It's about time you start learning what lies ahead for you." His tone still cold as ever. I can't even speak back, I know i'll be silenced. All I can do is huff. I stand up and just walk the opposite direction of him. I don't hate my father but sometimes I just can't stand how he seems to have my entire future in the palm of his hand.

Walking down the large hallway I can start to hear the elegant music that I can only recognize as music from The Nutcracker. When I was little my mother used to take me to a muggle theater around Christmas time. Although my father urged that we don't celebrate muggle holidays. She would always sneak us out and take me to see the Nutcracker. Not only did she love ballet but I loved to see the story play out through the graceful dancing. Of course as I grew older the tradition stopped but I never forgot.

I continue down the hallway and I can hear the music growing louder. I turn one more corner to see a double door way with a sign above the entrance that says 'MAIN THEATER' in gold lettering. The doors were slightly cracked open. I slightly peek into the theater to see a girl dancing on the stage doing the sugar plum fairies variation. I quietly slip into the room and sit down in the farthest back row to watch.

Y/N POV:

I had already rehearsed my routine twice but my director kept critiquing every little thing I did. I mean of course that's his job but I swear he was acting as if everything I did was wrong. I was in the in the middle of my third pirouette when my coach suddenly stood up and started walking to the back of the theater. I continued my pirouettes until I heard my coach speak. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he ushered someone who was sitting in the back of the theater out of the room. The man stood and I caught a glimpse of him. He was tall and had icy blonde hair. I paused my variation and stood to watch. The blonde man then spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no clue." He said before then exiting the theater. My manager turned back around after closing the doors to the theater. "Alright Y/n from the top!" He said as he gave the tech people the signal to restart the music. I didn't complain. I rushed back to my starting mark and started my routine from the beginning.

DRACO POV:

As I sat in the back row I admired the ballerina on stage. Her movements were so elegant, mesmerizing even. With every turn and step she took her tutu bounced. Her arms stretched out with grace. I'm instantly snapped out of my daze when an official looking man comes up to me. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he turned to open the door for me. "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no idea." I said as I stood from my seat. I walked to the door and took once last glance at the ballerina.

Y/N POV:

After the man had left the theater I ran through my routine nearly a half a dozen more times. Each time my coach giving me more pointers and critiques. As the music stopped and I finished my last variation my coach stood from his seat, "Y/n you need to keep your back straight and your knees pointed on that last part!" My coach shouted clearly tired of me not being able to perfect my solo. I just huffed and wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist. "Can I go get some water?" I said with my hands on my hips. My director sighed, "Yeah, be back in five." He said as he wrote something down on his clipboard. I hurriedly sped walked down the stairs that were on the far end of the stage and headed towards the theater entrance. I took a turn then walked down the long hallway. I stop at the end of the hallway when I see that man who got kicked out of the theater and another man who has long icy blonde hair, they're both sitting down on the waiting chairs outside Mr. Evan's office. I shake my head of any curiosity about the two and hurriedly walk past them to go to Adeline's desk. I notice the short haired boy look up at me as I walked but I continued. "Hey Adeline, could you please get me a water?" I asked to the woman. "Yeah just give me a second." She said with her usual smile, as she stood and went to another room. A couple seconds later she reappeared and had a water bottle in hand. The water bottle had a custom logo on it that said The Royal Opera House in gold letters on a dark red paper. "Thank you Ade, I'll most likely be back soon." I said as I turned around while simultaneously taking a drink of my water. As I turned I practically bump straight into a brick wall.

But it wasn't a wall it was that same blonde boy. And I had now just spilt water all over him. "Oh, i'm sorry! That was my bad!" I said frantically as I tried to wipe the water off of his black button down. "No, no, no, don't worry about it." He said laughing lightly as he grabbed hand to calm me, after a few seconds you let go. "I was just coming to compliment you. I saw you back in the theater and your dancing was truly beautiful." He said as his ice blue eyes practically pierced yours. "Oh...thank you." —I laughed softly—"But my director would say other wise." I said as I began to walk past him, I turned back around to look at him once more to find him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Well it's basically his job to tell me what I'm doing wrong, but it feels impossible to get my routine perfect." I sighed. "Well...regardless of what that oaf thinks I think you dance nothing short of perfection." He said slightly playfully. I let out a small laugh. "Well, I've got to get back to rehearsing. It was nice meeting you...?" I questioned having never learned his name. "Draco." "Draco?" "Draco." He confirmed. "Well it was nice meeting you Draco." I said nodding my head before turning to go back to the theater. "Wait what's your name?" He calls out to me as I was walking away. I turned around once more then gestured to a poster on the wall, then finally walked away.

As I gestured to the poster Draco immediately examined it. It was a picture of you in your sugar plum fairy costume and a title below it. It said, 'Y/n L/n as The Sugar Plum Fairy' Draco let out an airy laugh as he admired the poster when Lucius appeared behind him. "Draco I would like to not have to come look for you as if you were a lost puppy. Mr.Evan's is ready to see us now." He said coldly then turned Draco following behind.

You had went back to the theater thoughts of Draco lingering in the back of your head. Draco had went to sit in on the meeting between Lucius and Mr. Evan's. To Lucius that meeting was very important to the future of his shares in the theater, but to Draco it was merely an hour wasted listening to rubbish. You had finally wrapped up your rehearsals for the day and it was time for you to go get food and go home.

DRACO POV:

"Draco you can sit outside while me and Mr. Evan's wrap this up. Don't wander." Lucius spat. I didn't respond he simply just got up and left the room. I sat outside on the chairs until I heard a voice. "Yeah, I'll see you on Thursday?" She said as she walked out of the theater. There she was, Y/n. All of my attention was on her. She was no longer wearing the tutu and leotard. She was now wearing a baby pink off the shoulder knit sweater with grey flared leggings. She has a white knit scarf around her neck and she carried grey bag, what I assume was her ballet stuff. Her hair was in a low bun making her headphones she had in visible.

When she turned to walk out she paused when she saw me. "Hey, you're still here?" She said softly as she walked up to me while taking out her headphone. "Yeah, i'm just waiting for my father and Mr. Evan's to get out of their meeting." "Well, I could wait with you?" She said as she rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind." She sat down next to me setting her bag on her side. "So why are you here? To see Mr.Evans I mean." She said as she looked up at me. "Well I wouldn't say that i'm here to see him. My father is. Something that has to do with his shares. I honestly don't know. The only thing i've gotten out of coming here was seeing you dance." I laughed a little, and so did she. "I didn't know I was that good." She smiled. "Whatever your director was yelling at you, he truly is wrong. I thought you danced perfect." I said avoiding eye contact with her. I could see her out of the corner of my eye just staring up at me. "Why thank you good sir. I'm glad you liked it." She giggled. "Have you ever seen The Nutcracker?" "Yeah, quite a few times actually." "Oh. Would you like to see it again maybe?" She asked this time not peering up at me, but now fiddling with the loose ends of her scarf. "When?" She stop and looked back up at me. "Uhmm,—she hummed— Opening night would be December 10th, I could get you tickets if you would like?" "Yeah, yeah, although I don't know when I'll see you again?" I asked. She laughing softly, "I guess whenever you want to see me again." She smiled.

DECEMBER TENTH

DRACO POV

Today was the day, the day I get to see her again. I don't know why I'm so...entranced? By her. Something about her just makes me fascinated. Ever since last week she's all I could think about. Of course in order to be able to go see the show I told my parents some bullshit excuse. My father would never let me go to London by myself, especially just so I could go see the ballet. Not only that a muggle girl.

I had made my way to the theatre early so I would be able to avoid all the people there for opening night. I stepped out of the taxi, it was cold the winter air crisp. I entered the building and walked up to the concierge. "One ticket for The Nutcracker, please." I said slightly rubbing my hands together trying to warm them. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid we are all sold out for the night." He said with pity. "What? No, I have to see the show tonight." "Like I said, I'm sorry. But I can sell you a ticket for-" "Oh! Mr. Malfoy I wasn't expecting you so early!" The concierge was interrupted by no other than Adeline. "You were expecting me?" I turned to her. "Well yes? I expected that Ms. L/n made you aware of your visit?" She said with her usual smile. "Well yeah, but- you know what never mind. Why were you expecting me?" "Of course, because she was very adamant that you got the best seat in the house!" She said ushering me down the hall, then to an elevator.

The classical music played lightly in the elevator, the ride up two floors wasn't awkward, it was actually quite pleasant. This was an elevator ride I had been on countless times before, it was nostalgic in a way. The elevator dinged before the large metal doors opened. We were on The Donald Gordon Grand Tier. It was technically the third floor of the theater. She led me to row A which was in the very middle and front. "Ms. L/n was very insisting that you get this specific seat sir. She said it was the best seat in the house and you deserve nothing less!" I stood there for a moment and blinked at the seats in front of me. That feeling of nostalgia had now been explained. I was sitting in the exact same seat my mother would always sit in when we would come to the theater. "Mr. Malfoy, are you okay?" Adeline broke my trance. "Thank you Adeline, for everything." I thanked her as I sat down. "No problem! Feel free to come down to my desk if you need anything!" She smiled before walking away.

I sat there for maybe 30 minutes before hundreds of people started sitting in the theater. Of course by courtesy of Adeline I was able to avoid the crowd. After about another 30 minutes the lights in the theater had dimmed. That's when I heard the oh so familiar tune to the mystical music. There was something about the story of The Nutcracker that always fascinated me. Maybe it was the playful but yet elegant dances that were done. They were so complex but yet so smooth and graceful. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was able to watch a story come to life in front of my very eyes. As I watched the ballet I found myself the same way I was many years ago. Only blinking every few minutes to be sure I didn't miss any parts of the show. My mind fully clear, only focusing on the ballet dancers below. I was entranced by the story all over again.

Now, we were in act II. After Clara and the Prince have slayed the Mouse King, the snowflakes have led them to the Kingdom of Sweets. As the enchanting music transitioned to a more sweet sounding melody it hit me. She was going to be dancing soon. Clara and the Prince arrived to the gates of Kingdom of Sweets. The Sugar Plum Fairy reigns over the Kingdom of Sweets. I sat up in my chair. Then there she was, graceful as ever tip-toing across stage. Her costume was beautiful a light pink bodice and tutu with gold accents. Her hair was elegant and she wore a gold tiara. She was covered in glitter, but what shined the most was her eyes. She was so passionate in the way she danced. Her moves were liquid smooth enchanting the audience. She placed a tiara on Clara's head then commenced a day of festivities in honor of Clara saving the Prince from the mouse king. First came the Chocolate from Spain, then the Arabian Coffee, the Chinese tea, and lastly the sweet French Marzipan.

But then the flowers came, and they preformed a great waltz. The Sugar Plum Fairy came back with her cavalier and did a mesmerizing duet. Although they were doing a duet me and the whole audience could only look at one of them. Her. She danced with a great passion. Not that he didn't. There was just something about her that made you believe that she was born to be on that stage. Born to shine. Even with the light shining down on her, she was the light. Soon after she and her cavalier finished their dance Clara is guided back home. She tosses and turns in her sleep, she wakes up to find out it was a dream? A fantasy. Nothing more.

And Suddenly I was pulled into reality. The audience erupted in roars. Not one person in that theater wasn't clapping. Roses were being thrown onto stage by people sitting on the lower floors. The people around me whistling and cheering. I quickly stood up and headed down to Adeline's desk. "Excuse me, Adeline. I had a delivery made here, did it arrive yet?" I said as I leaned on her desk. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Just wait one second while I go grab it. She disappeared into a room before coming out with the custom bouquet I had delivered. Freshly picked Frutteto's. The baby pink roses were dusted with gold glitter, they were perfect. "She's gonna love them you know?" Adeline asked snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Do you know when she'll be out?" "I'd say maybe 30 minutes? In the mean while you're more than welcome to wait here." She said as she sat back down at her desk and started flipping through a book.

I sat there for what seemed like forever. I inspected every flower to make sure they were nothing short of perfection. Just as I was picking off a petal that was too pink to fit in with the rest I saw her. She was already on her way out of the glass doors. I quickly rushed after her, "Y/n, wait!" I yelled after her as I caught up. She turned around her nose being a light shade of pink from the brisk winter air, the soft snowflakes landing in her hair. "Draco, you came? I didn't see you come in before the show?" "I got here early, don't worry I watched the whole show. You were...amazing. Oh, I got you these." I quickly handed her the bouquet, "They're beautiful." Her face lit up, "Perfect, they're perfect." She cradled them in one arm while the other fiddled with the petals. "Thank you." She said with that sweet smile of hers. "My pleasure, I knew you'd like them." I really didn't, I was actually terrified she wouldn't like them. "Hey...would you maybe..." Her eyes glistened in the street lights as she looked up from the flowers, "...would you maybe like to go to dinner with me?" I was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. I paused, "Yeah, I would love to. But it's my treat." "You don't have to i'm the one who invited you." She said lightly laughing. "Well, I would like to treat you after your amazing performance tonight. Where do you wanna eat?" "I know a great place! It's called Bancone, it's an italian place, is that okay?" "Whatever you want is fine with me." I smile. "Okay, uhh, hold on let me call a cab!" She turned and walked to the road. She hailed us a cab.

We both sat in the back of the cab, watching the snow glitter down from the sky. "How far is the restaurant?" I asked turning to her. When I looked at her she was simply smiling down at her flowers. "Oh, we should be there any minute! Actually we're here! Thank you!" She said as she scooted out of the cab. I paid the driver then got out. I was surprised to find she took my hand and led me inside.

We stepped inside and I was taken aback by the olive tree that was planted in the middle of the restaurant. The interior was classy but casual. "Hi! Welcome in! Table for two?" A hostess came up to us. "Yeah, uhm, could we be seated at a window table?" She asked as she dusted off the small pieces of snow she had in her hair. "Of course! Right this way!" The hostess led us to a table in the front of the restaurant. I pulled out her chair for her, "Why thank you good sir." She softly laughed. I sat down. "Can I get you started with any drinks, or would you like a minute?" "Could we get a bottle of the house red? And then I would just like a glass of water." She asked the hostess. "Great choice, and as for you sir?" "I would just like a glass of water, thank you." She handed us our menus then walked away. "What do you think you're gonna get?" I looked up from my menu. "For sure the bucatini, i've been craving it all day." I laugh lightly, "I don't know what I want" I said as I studied the menu, "What do you think?" I looked up at her to find her already looking at me. "I personally think you'll like the duck ragú, I had it last time I came and it was heavenly." She laughed. "Okay I guess it's settled then, wait what about dessert?" "Oo! They have these cannolis! They're covered in hazelnuts you have to try them." Just then a waitress came to the table, "Here is your house red, and waters." She said as she set down our water and presented the bottle.

She opened the bottle with a pop, then filled our glasses. "Thank you" we both said nearly in unison. "Are you ready to order your entrees, or would you like another minute?" "We're ready. I'll have the bucatini and as for dessert we'll do two orders of the hazelnut cannolis." She said as she handed the waitress her menu. "Sure thing! And as for you sir?" She turned to me, "I'll have the duck ragú, that'll be all, thank you." I handed her my menu. "Okay, i'll be back with your food shortly." She smiled then walked away to another table. "You know what I realized?" Y/n said as she twirled the wine in her glass. "What?" "I barely know anything about you, but yet here I am at dinner with you." She tilted her head slightly. "Well, I don't know anything about you either." I laughed, "What do you wanna know?" "Anything! But skip the basic things, I just really wanna know you" She took a sip of her wine. What was I supposed to tell her? That i'm a wizard and that I went to a school to learn sorcery? "I honestly don't know where to start? Just ask me anything, anything." "Mmm, what's your favorite childhood memory?" She said as she took off her scarf.

I took a breath "I would have to say...probably going to see The Nutcracker with my mother." I laughed, she looked up at me curiously. "Ironic isn't it." "Very." "See my father isn't big on...fun. Or anything really. So every year my mother would sneak us out of the house and we would go see the show. As I got older the whole tradition kind of just...stopped. But you know what's crazy?" "Hm?" "The seat that you picked out for me, was the exact same seat my mum would sit in when we would go." She looked at me like I was crazy. "She always said 'it was the best seat in the house' the whole thing felt like a dream." "That's...just...wow. That's a big coincidence huh?" "I know huh, I was so confused. But what about you? What's your favorite memory?" "My grandmother she was absolutely amazing when it came to playing piano. As a little girl she would play the Swan Lake piano arrangement while I danced. We would do this for hours and hours till my mother told us to take a break. I've always loved ballet. What I would give to re-live those memories." She looked out the window and played with the hem of her sleeves as she spoke. "That's...beautiful. So you've been dancing since you were young?" "Yeah, kinda like you my mother took me to see the ballet when I was little. But instead we saw Sleeping Beauty. I was absolutely fascinated by it. For weeks I begged my mother to put me in classes, I guess she just got annoyed of my constant begging and just gave in." She laughed softly. "Well it definitely paid off." I smiled.

We got to know each other all night long. Even though we had already finished our food long ago, we sat there and just talked. About everything. She was just so captivating. Every detail about her was intriguing. Each one of her stories just led me to wanting to know more about her. The way her eyes sparkled a little when she would talk about something she was passionate about. All of her was just perfect. I told her a lot about myself. Maybe more than I should've. Everything about me surrounded the one thing I couldn't tell her. Most of the stories I told her had gaps but I don't think she caught on. I felt almost...bad? For not being able to tell her what could possibly be the biggest detail about me. But seriously how do you just tell someone that. 'Oh yeah, by the way i'm a wizard. And there's millions of other wizards around the world.' And plus even if I wanted to tell her I couldn't. And it was killing me.

We stayed at the restaurant until the waitress told us they were closing soon. "I guess we should get going huh?" She asked as she lightly laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." I slightly frowned. I paid the bill, then we left. We stood on the side walk as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky. Street lamps lit the road, illuminating it with golden rays. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and carried her flowers with both hands. "Could I have your number by the way?" She asked. "Oh, yeah. Here just put your number in and i'll text you later." I handed her my cell. I got a muggle cell phone, specifically for this reason. My father would never approve of me having a device like that. But for her it was worth whatever trouble it could cause. In all reality the reason I asked her to put her number in my cell was because I had no clue how. "Okay, there." She smiled as she handed me back my phone. I looked down, Y/n xx , is what she put as her contact. "I should get going now, I have to be back at the theater early tomorrow." She said as she fiddled with her flowers. I took a breath, "Okay, tonight was really great. When can I see you again?" "Like I said, whenever you want." She smiled, I laughed. She turned out to the road and hailed a cab. "Goodnight!" She yelled out to me before turning back to the cab, she paused, then turned around back to me and ran back to me. She gave me a kiss on my cheek and then a small hug, "Goodnight." "Goodnight." I said a bit surprised. She ran back to the cab and got in. I watched the car disappear down the road, out of sight.

===

Mwah I hope you liked! If you did make sure to reblog and leave a note! <3

103 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 5 months

Text

Cookies: Jason Todd x reader

Christmas bingo day 18 : cookies

Her laughing was so hard and so disturbingly turning into desperate sobbing, that Jason could not help getting alarmed. So, throwing his book away and almost tripping over their cat he jumped off the couch rushing to the bedroom where his lovely, emotionally unstable girlfriend were fighting for her breath, almost spitting her lungs out rolling in the sheets and holding her belly.

"Y/n?" He stuttered, quite amused by the scene in front of his eyes though he couldn't deny certain cuteness to it. She felt comfortable enough around him to actually let her guards down and turn into happy child mode. To the point where she couldn't hear him."Y/n!" He tried again falling on his stomach on the bed causing her to jump a little form the recoil "what's so funny babe?"

"Oh Jace!" She rolled on the side to face him "I've just talked to f/n. Apparently your older brother -"

"Not my brother -" Jason muttered turning a little bit grumpy, only earning eye rolling and tongue sticking from her.

"Technicals, love. Whats important is that Dick got her into baking cookies. Tricked her with using the word nutcracker." Y/n chuckled

"She thought he was going to take her out for the ballet, didn't she?" Jason couldn't help a smirk at the story. "This does sound like Dick."

"Pun intended?" His girl smirked back knowingly

"Most definitely pun intended. So how did it end, did he burn the load or did f/n had to do the work? Wait-- don't answer that I think I already know."

"He said it was a couple bonding exercise."

"Oh really?" Jason raised an eyebrow scooting closer to her and grabbing her waist "I got some other ideas for that -"

"Yeah good thing we settled on not baking this year -" she wriggled out of his embrace, sitting on the bed cross legged and fixing her hair without a care of what Dick and f/n did.

And then it hit her, her brain shutting off from the reality.

And when she looked at Jason she knew he figured it out too.

***

There was no freaking way Jason and y/n were going to get outdone in the baking area. Never .

***

And if the oldest batman son made (sort of) cookies, it could only mean that he was going to bring them to a family feast and keep on bragging about hidden culinary talent.

No freaking way.

So acting like a two pieces of the same, well-oiled machine Jason and y/n gathered all the necessary ingredients, grabbed their matching aprons and started producing something that could, hands down, be called a masterpiece.

The recipie that never failed them was enriched with a secret ingredient called love as they laughed and bantered during the preparation.

And obviously he didn't mean to blow that flour her way and made her sneeze. And that vicious smile on his face only meant apologies. It really wasn't Jason's fault that she took this a cue to get all competitive.

"You know what?" Once she managed to wipe the white powder from her face her eyes glistened mischievously "I got an idea"

"Did you think about it a lot?"

"Well it took me longer than it takes you to finish when-"

"Shut up!" He turned red instantly getting a handful of cinnamon and rubbed it into her crystal white apron "oh, you're so clumsy princess, such a messy cook. Maybe you should just leave the professional to do the complicated work?"

Much to his surprise, instead of lunging at him (which would give him opportunity to grab her and tease her in some other ways than verbal) his words only made her take an exhale, shake her head and smile.

Uh huh. Not a good sign.

"You want to stand against me Todd? You sure about that? I don't think you realise what's coming for you, pretty boy." Her hands found a way to her hips as she stood in a power pose that could do very little to intimidate him.

"Flattery will get you nowhere princess" he leaned forward over the kitchen counter testing her nerves and patience.

"Are you that terrified you feel the urge to distract me?"

"May the best cook win" he grinned pulling her cooking hat onto her eyes blocking her view for a few seconds just to get a head start, grab the ingredients and put them out of her reach.

"That's cheating!" She protested trying to retrieve the necessary products

"I can't remember us setting the rules."

"Bully!"

"That's not what you said when- ouch!" The sudden stepping on his foot took him by surprise, giving her the chance to grab the baking powder and eggs and start running. Once she reached the pantry, she immediately locked the door.

At the moment they were at an impasse.

Y/n had the eggs and baking powder while Jason was left with flour and sugar.

Pretty much neither of them could make actual and edible cookies without cooperating.

"Come on princess don't be like that." He yanked on the door handle "you can't win you know it"

"Is that a surrender I hear in your voice?"

"You wish! I'm merely giving you a chance to walk with your head high and not shamefully defeated"

"Admit it you can't do a single thing without my input!"

"I think that's pretty obvious at this point of our relationship..." He said, his tone suddenly turning soft. "It scares me sometimes how dependant of you I am... Come on baby open up..."

"You're not playing me?" She asked from behind the door, her heart beating so loud that the blood was rushing in her ears

"Cross my heart-" he started but before he finished, she actually unlocked the door and stood in the doorframe still a little bit hesitant and careful, having learnt to watch out for him and his games.

"Hey...." She muttered diligently assessing the situation.

"Fool!" Jason yelled, grabbing her and pulling her to a kiss that seemed to last forever but still not long enough. "You didn't actually think I didn't have an ulterior motive did you?"

"You're such a dork Todd ..." She chuckled (not) trying to break free.

"Oh damn, this woman is still talking! Not on my watch."

And once their lips met again, they had the world in their grasp in the person of one another. For what they cared the rest of it could have burned.

And talking about burning -

"Our cookies are still gonna be better right?" She pulled back after a minute not really capable of getting rid of that competitiveness.

"Damn right. But the dough can wait a little bit longer." He retorted.

Preferably all night cause they were going to be busy with some other kind of sugar and sweetness.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #christmas bingo

147 notes · View notes

rolex-kaard · 2 months

Text

a few nutcracker headcanons. because im really normal about them

they are Weird. Who let the mechanical things have flesh.

the flesh part of a nutcracker does extend throughout its entire body for control

it has starfish-like properties in that it can regrow pieces of itself if needed, given some time

it will, however, only be able to do this a finite amount of times before running itself too thin- the flesh used is stored in reserve in its torso, and can run out, though it would take a long time

they do not eat, so have no way of growing more

they do have a power source, though, somewhat like a battery, that they must charge occasionally (likely drawing from apparatus power in facilities, and whatever power source a mansion has)

similarly, the supply of ammo on their person can run out

i like to think that somewhere in each building is a designated room that all the nutcrackers there use as a "hangout" spot; repairs, recharges, and ammo refills mostly happen here

the shell of a nutcracker is, obviously, very, very hard to break. besides attacking the eye, the most damage that can reasonably be achieved is detaching limbs/parts at the joints, the weakest points

which is where the regrowth comes in; once it can recover the limb, it will need that new segment of flesh for it to be fully useful again

sometimes they will need a new pin or bearing for a joint, either from injury or plain age. they keep a supply of spares in a drawer-like compartment in their hats, which is popped open with an inset button on the side

rarely, a nutcracker will keep another small item or trinket in that compartment as well- a badge, a key, a ring, etc. these may either be some kind of keepsake from their existence before the houses were abandoned, or a result of their own random fancy

their "heart" is a very odd thing. a clockwork engine that also has meat in it is the best way i can put it. it makes noises if you're close enough to hear

their music boxes are attached close to the heart, somewhere beneath the eye. they did not always sound so distorted

they can sleep in some form, though they can also go without. most often sleeping just means them being motionless and unresponsive, still standing up

#live kaard reaction #lethal company #if youre seeing this hi koka #nutcracker #my truths. i understand them like no one else. trust #i also like the idea that the flesh part is a separate creature that found the body to use as protection #but i found that harder to build further hcs upon 😔#they're weird silly thangs either way

70 notes · View notes

lostgirlmuseum · 9 months

Text

Masterlist ✨

Angst: 🌑 Fluff/Fun: 🌕 Both: 🌓 1K Notes: ✨

Welcome to my masterlist! I currently only write for Bucky Barnes. I’m also in college, so apologies if I don’t post regularly…because I’m 93.2% likely not to 👌 This is really just a fun lil thing I do. I'm definitely not the best, but I try.

Unless otherwise specified, happy endings only here. Real life is sad enough lmao

(headers by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics)

Make the Wave 🌓 (Complete) ✔️

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky x f!Reader Summary: You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention.

Coming Soon To A Tumblr Near You:

Nothing! lol, but Honey pt. 2 is in the works

In order of most recent to least:

Honey 🌓

Summary: Bucky notices you've been acting really strange lately... like, really strange. And flirty? What happened to you, and are your eyes... glowing?

Solitary Confinement 🌑

Summary: Bucky finds you locked up. (Febuwhump Prompt Day 2)

The Swan and the Soldier 🌔

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

I Like You (A Lot) 🌔

Summary: You can't help but notice the way Bucky becomes uncomfortable around you, and you help him find peace in your touch.

Who the Hell is Daryl? 🌓✨

Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)

Pulse 🌕

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Bucky vs. Book 🌔✨

Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.

Stuck (2)gether 🌕

Summary: A continuation of Stuck Together, Bucky deals with the aftermath of now knowing what it’s like to be so close to you. He misses it. He’s scared of it. He needs it.

Stuck Together 🌕 + Part 2 is above!

Summary: Bug Boy and Big Man get into an argument. Luckily, you’re there to save the day! Until you find yourself in a sticky situation. Things get a little too close for comfort.

Give Me A Sign 🌑

Summary: Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

The Signal 🌓✨

Summary: You and Bucky get separated from the team after an unfortunate mishap, of which Bucky blames you. Except you’re not at fault! You thought… you aren’t too sure anymore.

Maced 🌕

Summary: You think someone’s following you and you mace them. Turns out it’s just Bucky.

Thank you for being here, thank you for reading, thank you for responding. All my love, Cadence 💖

#bucky barnes masterlist #lostgirlmuseum's masterlist #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky fic

247 notes · View notes

applesaucesims · 20 days

Text

While Louis was relaxing by the fireplace with his father, Emma had carried the twins to their beds. They were still a bit too excited from all the fun and gifts, but after a bedtime story about Father Winter, they had finally drifted off to sleep.

When returning downstairs, Emma made another quick detour, before joining Niall and Louis in the living room with her hands hidden behind her back.

Louis would almost not have noticed, until Emma alluded to it. Despite his impatience to see this last gift, he followed his mother's rule to wait with his eyes closed. Thinking about it, this was still the fastest way to his goal.

With one arm stretched out, Louis patiently kept his eyes shut, waiting for his last Winterfest gift. Suddenly, he felt something wooden touch his hand, but he still waited for his mother's confirmation that it was time to look.

Once Emma gave him the okay, Louis took a peek at his hand, which now held a golden nutcracker. While it was nothing as big as the puppet theatre, it felt special to him, and he knew he was going to treasure it. He stared at the little figure with stars in his eyes, already cherishing it and deciding to give it a name: Sammy.

Despite the fact that Louis loved the gift as it was, Emma and Niall gave him a knowing smile, and they revealed that this was not all there was to it. In fact, the nutcracker was a hint at where they were going to take him soon: The Nutcracker ballet! Hearing these news, Louis excitedly jumped around and into his mother's arms. Finally, he was old enough to visit the theatre with his parents, and they had not forgotten about it.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Emma: "Took me a while, but the girls are finally asleep. How are my boys doing?"

Emma: "Did you enjoy your Winterfest so far?"

Louis: "Loved it!"

Emma: "You're lucky then, it isn't over just yet!"

Louis: "What do you mean?"

Emma: "There is another surprise waiting for you, Louis."

Louis: *gasp* "What is it?"

Emma: *chuckles* "Close your eyes and you'll find out! And no peeking!"

Louis: "I'm not- fine."

...

Emma: "And... you can open them!"

Louis: "Whoa!"

Niall: "Do you know what it is?"

Louis: "It's a nutcracker! It's so pretty! I shall call him... Sammy."

Emma: "That's actually not the whole surprise. Have you heard of the Nutcracker ballet?"

Louis: "I don't think I have."

Niall: "Would you like to find out about it? You remember we promised to take you to the ballet, right?"

Louis: "Wait, we're finally going to the ballet!?"

Emma: "That's right!"

Louis: "THANK YOU SO MUCH!!"

Emma: *oof* "Easy there, Louis. I can't carry you as easily now as when you were younger."

Niall: *laughing*

Louis: "Oops, sorry!"

Emma: "Now, let's get you to bed. I'll carry you, too."

Louis: "Aww..."

#ts4 decades challenge #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 legacy #1930s #emma jones #niall mcgregor #louis mcgregor #louis having a bit of a clara moment

43 notes · View notes

moongreenlight · 3 months

Text

WIP Wednesday except it's Thursday and I'm using this as an excuse to post something without the imaginary pressure of getting a full fic out. :D

800-ish word excerpt from my Ghoap x Reader nutcracker AU that I meant to finish around Christmas.

The orchestra has picked up about half a beat too fast and the conductor seems not to have noticed.

Too busy salivating at the legs of one of the snowflake girls a few spots to your left. His baton is getting lazy. Long, drawn out flicks and swishes like he’s casting spells instead of directing. Strange, you think. If anything they should be slowing down to match his tempo.

Maybe it’s the strings? They’re nipping into the winds and forcing the entire group forward. It throws off a girl in front of you. She’s younger by a handful of years. Doesn’t quite have the music- even at the right tempo- committed to memory. She drops her arm a full count too early. Even from behind you can hear her curse.

This seems to rouse him. He jerks his head back to center and starts flicking the tip of the baton back on beat. He’s a stern man. He’s got coal-black eyes that seem to house the staggering power to burn a hole straight through someone bone and all. You swear you can hear flesh crackling and sizzling as he casts his gaze out over the stage. It takes a moment, but he’s able to herd the group back onto a single track. Dancers and musicians alike.

Someone has either put too much or too little rosin on their shoes. It’s difficult to pinpoint, but there’s a terrible squeaking sound from somewhere on the stage that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Like nails on a chalkboard. It gets worse during the final round of turns.

And then, by some miracle, intermission. Big cloth curtains draw together. Kicking up dust and loose sparkles and large pieces of fake snow that adhere themselves to your skin. Kept snug in place by the sheen of sweat that collected under the brutal heat of the spotlights and the effort it took to dance for nearly forty minutes straight.

Imogene, the girl who’d just recently championed the superlative of biggest blunder to date, was now heavily crying into the arms of her older sister.

You relish the few moments you get to catch your breath before the mistress comes and begins to shoo you and the other girls offstage. She’s far more stern than the conductor. And unfortunately less handsome, though they share the same deep-set frown lines that cage their mouths. You catch her give a shaking Imogene a whack to the ear before you can duck backstage.

In your hurry to whip your head back around for fear of meeting the same fate, you run directly into someone’s back. You’re quick to hiss out an apology, but it’s drowned out by the sound of a man speaking terribly muddy French.

“- gorgeous. Even caught the orchestra’s attention.” (please pretend this is French I forgot to translate it and I'm too lazy rn)

The girl he’s talking to, Sophie, giggles and he sways slightly from her batting him in the chest.

“Excuse me.”

It comes out a bit more stiff than you mean it to. He doesn’t wait for Sophie to dismiss herself before turning around.

John MacTavish is one of the few men in the company, but even without such slim options, you feel he would still be a standout.

He’s not from France, though it’s not uncommon for members to have made pilgrimage to join such a prestigious group. His accent is horrible, any potential ruined by his upbringing somewhere in Scotland, though he earns himself a few points with native speakers for his enthusiasm.

He’s also granted the cushion of patience because of his undeniable good looks. He’s got great blue eyes that emote just as well as he does. Shining and laughing along with him like they’ve got personalities to match. He’s big. Tall and muscular, which -again- isn’t uncommon what with all the lifts and spins and acrobatics he does, but he packs on muscle in a way not many other male dancers have the capacity to do.

You’re sure it’s a nightmare to source costumes for him. He’s tore the back panel out of his jacket twice this season alone and you’re only about three-quarters of the way through.

He’s gorgeous and he knows it, which makes him insufferable. He’s charming and got fantastic whit, sure, but he’s perverse and a habitual letcher so it all seems to cancel out.

His great beauty makes him the popular option for most all of the company and the patrons of the opera house alike. It’s become a running joke that you’ve not really served your time unless you’ve had a go with John.

Your participation is left widely up to speculation.

“Sorry, hen.”

If he noticed your rigidity, he doesn’t bring it up. Instead he leans down and takes you by the wrists. Brings his face close to yours and plants a kiss on the right corner of your mouth.

“Jesus, John.”

You scramble away, much to his delight.

“Always forget if it’s right or left first.”

He’s snickering like he’s clever. It takes some legitimate effort to wrench your arms out of the manacles that are his hands.

“Funny.”

You say flatly as you shoulder past him, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“I thought so.”

#moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #john soap mactavish #simon riley #ghoap #ghoap x reader #wip wednesday

62 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months

Text

Eri Reader x Straw Hats Christmas Special- Eri and the Nutcracker

I had someone request this and I thought this would work perfectly with Eri Reader! I hope you all enjoy and I'll post the next actual part of Eri Reader tomorrow! Merry Christmas!

-Your smile was so bright as Robin finished telling you the story of the Nutcracker, in celebration of Christmas tomorrow! You had never celebrated Christmas and the crew wanted to make it extra special for you!

-You help Sanji in the kitchen making some cookies as he told you all about the yummy meal you were going to get tomorrow.

-Luffy and Usopp told you all about Santa, which did lead to some laughter after you asked Chopper if he was one of Santa’s reindeer.

-Franky stole you away to show you some surprises he was working on, new upgrades for the ship, which was actually just to distract you while the others set up a Christmas tree to surprise you with.

-Brook played you beautiful Christmas music which Nami danced with you to, waltzing with you while you squealed with delight before you got to meet Santa, who was actually Zoro in disguise.

-They couldn’t stand how cute you were, being shy, hiding behind Luffy’s leg, waving at Santa as he was holding out a present towards you.

-It wound up being the Nutcracker book, something to surprise you with before Christmas day and when Robin put you to bed, she read you the story.

-You knocked out shortly after she finished, which was good as it gave everyone time to set up for the party tomorrow.

-You opened your eyes, now dreaming, and found yourself in a magical world, surrounded by a land made up entirely of sweets, everything was candy- the roads, the trees and flowers, it was amazing!

-You then heard, “Y/N!!” you turned, hearing Luffy and you froze, seeing him running up to you, dressed like the Nutcracker in the book and he beamed at you, “I found you! Now let’s get going- I’m going to be King of the Nutcrackers!”

-You weren’t sure what was going on, but this was so much fun, as you got to eat some of the trees, after Luffy told you that it was okay.

-You then heard three voices yelling out, “Hey you idiot!” and you were stunned to see Nami and Sanji, both dressed up like fairies, in pink and white outfits with large glittery wings, Nami in a dress and Sanji in a suit, before you saw Chopper, wearing a whole Santa outfit, looking like Santa, just with some bells, like one of Santa’s reindeer.

-Sanji and Nami were yelling at Luffy, after beating him black and blue, telling him that you can’t just have sweets, that’s its not healthy for you before turning to you, “Are you Sugar Plum fairies?” they both posed, looking dramatic as Sanji spoke, “We are- but we also encourage healthy eating habits- especially in ones so young!”

-Nami and Chopper danced around with you as Sanji whipped up a massive feast of fruit, veggies, and meat, so you would have a balanced diet.

-When you and Luffy finished eating and got ready to leave, the three said they were coming with you, as they were going to celebrate Luffy becoming King of the Nutcrackers!

-As you reached an area where everything was made of toys, your eyes were sparkly before you saw Franky, “Yo!! It’s my SUPER niece!!” it was your uncle, ‘Franky-meyer’, who made the Nutcracker Luffy for you and you squealed as he spun you around, showing you all the new toys he had made before he decided to come with you on the journey to the kingdom of the Nutcrackers.

-You met Robin and Usopp next, who were both snow fairies, Usopp was throwing snowballs at the others while Robin picked you up, dancing with you, “You look like a princess mama!” she just smiled, twirling around, “You are close- I’m the Snow Fairy Queen~” your eyes were sparkly before you laughed, seeing everyone getting into a snowball fight.

-When you reached the castle where Luffy would become king, you were scared, seeing a bunch of mice, including the Mouse King, who looked like Crocodile, wearing a long red cape with a crown on his head, saying that this kingdom was his!

-Luffy tried to fight him and his minions, who looked like chibi Crocodiles in miniature long red capes, but he was blown back, he needed backup!

-Two more soldiers then stepped forward, Brook and Zoro, who had been locked in the tower, after King Crocodile invaded the kingdom, and Brook spoke, “Allow us to help you!”

-Soldier Zoro easily took care of the underlings, using three large candy canes instead of swords, before Brook charged forward with his own giant candy cane and hit King Crocodile back, weakening him.

-Luffy beat him, and you saw all the citizens of this world, from the candy area, the toy area, the snow area, and the kingdom all come out and celebrate, watching Luffy being crowned King.

-Luffy held you up in his arms, “It’s all thanks to Y/N!” and everyone was quickly chanting your name, making you smile.

-You stirred, hearing Luffy and Chopper calling your name, much like how they were chanting in your dream, as they woke you up, both wearing Santa hats, “Santa came- Santa came!” your eyes went huge and you headed to the galley with them, finding a huge feast, one that looked even better than the one Sanji had made for you in your dream, as well as a bunch of presents under the tree for everyone.

-Robin put a Santa hat on your own head, one that was a little too large for your head, but you were all smiles as Usopp held you on his lap as you got to try all of the special Christmas foods.

-Once you were finished eating, everyone unwrapped their presents from Santa, getting exactly what they wanted, Luffy got a gift wrapped meat on a stick, Zoro got a sword cleaning kit, Usopp got a new scope, Nami got a bag of money, Sanji got new cooking knives, Brook got a violin repair kit, Franky got some new and durable tools, Chopper got a new doctor’s bag and some candy, and Robin got some new books, and you got more picture books, ones that you could have the others read to you.

-The day was spent having fun with your family, eating nummy food, and just enjoying your first Christmas together.

#eri reader #luffy #zoro #nami #usopp #sanji #chopper #robin #franky #brook

73 notes · View notes

cowpokeomens · 4 months

Text

Pas de Trois: Part One

Pairing: Reader x Noah, eventual Reader x Nicholas

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None! (Yet)

I was just thinking, like: Swans, right? But Noah and Nicholas. No beta we die like Odette and Siegfried!

It was as cold in the beginning as it was in the end.

You could pretend all you wanted- that the embrace of a not-quite lover could warm you enough to stay alive. But you both knew better by now.

It starts the way it ends: at a pond.

You need a breather from your mother and her love schemes. Something about a party at the Van der Whatever’s condo on the east side, the unwed men rumored to be in attendance.

All those years of safeguarding your virginity like a crown jewel, only to be whored out to the first eligible bachelor the second you turned 23 and expressed no interest in marriage.

You roll your eyes at the thought of it; the idea of preserving your chastity whilst being surrounded by the scum of the earth in Bottega stilettos. It feels like you rub elbows with literal vampires most days: creatures that linger in the shadows, waiting to drain you of whatever they needed from you in that moment.

At least Bela Lugosi never asked you about why you decided against Yale after your father’s hefty (and unrequested) donation.

The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you walk. You wander into a familiar park near your apartment, the street lamps illuminating the freshly fallen snow in a gentle glow. All around you, trees creak and groan in the wind, as if they, too, were ready for spring again. It isn’t so secluded that you felt any real danger, but it was far enough away from the sounds of traffic to give your mind space to wander.

Faintly, you hear the sounds of people milling about on the street. There’s a theatre up the road- they’ve been hosting a ballet company performing The Nutcracker for the last month or so. Looking through the gaps in the bushes, you can spot a few people dressed in rich velvets and fur coats taking photos under the gleam of marquee lights. You haven’t gone to see The Nutcracker for years now. Your mother stopped taking you when you confessed that you did not have the talent- nor endurance- to be a real ballerina, the same time that she unenrolled you from dance classes altogether.

Humming Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux to yourself, you meander through the park until you come upon a pond. A treasure in your heart, it’s a spot you come to often to clear your head- though this is your first nighttime foray.

Longer than it was wide, the pond was not the most impressive in the city by a longshot. Most people didn’t even know of its existence, save the few dog-walkers who came through in the mid-morning and late afternoon. It was familiar, though, having been situated here as far back as your memory could recall.

Winter crept over the small body of water in sheets of ice at the outer perimeter. If the temperature continued to drop (it would) the entire thing would be frozen solid by next week. As it was, the ice at the edges looked thick enough to hold up an entire person.

You fight back the melancholy this brings you, knowing the incoming freeze would take with it the many creatures that inhabit the pond. The ducks have long since left, flying somewhere further south, somewhere warmer. The fish have been awfully quiet the last few weeks as well, settling in for their winter rest. That really just left the-

Ah, You think, sounding hushed even in your head. There you are.

They glide in silently, slicing through the water like moonlight. Long, graceful necks with great plumes puffing up behind them, the swans are pure magic in the stillness of the night. They make a triangle in the water, with four smaller fowl following the swan at the crest of the formation. Its dark eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel so utterly vulnerable under its gaze that you look away, suddenly very interested in your shoes.

Must you be intimidated by everything? You sigh to yourself internally. Seriously, a fucking bird?

You felt silly as you built the courage to finally look back up, but the bevy had disappeared. Craning your neck around, you were halfway to considering searching for them on foot when a branch cracked behind you.

Whirling around, your eyes scanned the tree line, pulling the mace on your keychain out with shaking hands. The neighborhood was safe, sure, but you weren’t stupid. A girl alone in a park well after the sun had set? Yeah, you’d seen the crime shows- no thanks.

“Hello?” You call, your voice wobbling despite your best efforts.

Another crack.

Your mace was up in an instant, poised and ready to fire. You are not a damsel in distress, you are certainly not going to be a statistic. As your heart pounded in your throat, a figure came into view.

“Ew, there’s bird shit everywhere- Woah!” The stranger stumbled backwards, hands up in the air as he saw you. “Oh my god, please don’t tase me-“

“It’s not a taser.” Was, for some reason, your first response. Then, “Who are you? What are you doing lurking around in the dark?”

His eyes went wide. “It’s a public park! I’m going for a walk!”

Your eyes narrow, the hand wielding the mace never moving. “A walk? At 9:45 at night?”

Impossibly, his eyes grew wider. They were dark- familiar in a way you couldn’t fully place in your panicked state. The snow reflects off of them, reminiscent of starlight. “You are also in the park at 9:45? And you’re armed?”

Well, that was certainly a valid observation. You take two deep breaths, then lower the mace, though not pocketing it entirely. You spend a moment observing his appearance.

He was tall- tall enough to be threatening, if he wanted to. Slim build, dark eyes, like you’d noted before. His hair was parted down the middle, brushing against the top of his cheekbones softly. He’s handsome, you think. Not the overly-manicured handsome you were accustomed to, though. He reminded you of the first dandelions in the spring; The delight you feel at seeing a living thing burst forth from the frozen ground, uncaring of if it's a weed or not.

A huge sweater encompassed him, something light in color and soft-looking. The sleeves poked out of the arm holes of his jacket in a strange way, as if it took a great deal of work to stuff them in there in the first place. A hat topped it all off, giant pom-pom bobbing at you in a way that was far from menacing.

“That’s a weird hat to wear while you creep on people in the park.” You quip, cocking an eyebrow at him.

His mouth drops open in shock. “My grandmother made me this, fuck you very much. And it’s winter! Of course I’m wearing a hat. Are you always this bad with logic and reason?”

“So you don’t deny creeping?” You ignored his question.

The face he gives you would have been comical under different circumstances. “Wha- Okay, look, I’m sorry for encroaching on your turf- even if that turf is city property-“ he mumbles the last bit to himself- “But I’m not like, a serial-killer-murderer. Pinky promise.”

He looks so earnest, it reminds you of a little kid. He is holding out a single pinky to you, a safe distance away.

You eye him warily for a second, then sigh, taking a few steps forward to interlock your pinky with his. He beams at you, smile as bright as the snow that began to silently fall around the two of you.

You introduce yourself, shifting on your feet in a way that feels awkward and uncomfortable, like you were suddenly too aware of your body’s movements.

“I’m Noah.” He offers warmly, cheeks and nose tinged a rosy pink from the winter air. The longer you look at him, the less intimidated you feel. He was still large- but in the way that the inflatable noodle-people outside of used car dealerships were large. He didn’t flail, necessarily, though. His movements seemed fluid, controlled. Where you were rigid from years of posturing amongst socialites, he was naturally elegant, as at ease under your gaze as the swans in the pond earlier.

Soft, your mind supplies. He looks soft.

His voice is gentle when he speaks again. “So, what brought you to the park in the middle of a blizzard?”

You try to resist the grin that creeps across your face; you fail miserably. “If you think this is a blizzard, you’re in for a shock come February.”

“Do you defer every question someone asks you, or am I just special?” His dark eyes are trained on you, head cocked to the side curiously. It wasn’t an attack- his expression was too open to be on the offense. He was genuinely waiting for your answer.

“I needed to get away from my mother.” You answer honestly, shrugging, though not meeting his gaze.

You can feel his eyes on you, though, searching for more. “You got into an argument?”

Shaking your head, you cast your eyes back to the pond, hoping to get another glimpse of the swans. “Not an argument. We have the same discussion every week, knowing fully well that we’ll disagree and end up screaming at each other.”

You have not felt… seen, like this, ever. You aren’t an adamant rule-follower, but you’re far from a rebel, too, allowing you to safely pass through life unnoticed. Even your mother only really seemed to remember you after your older sister had been married off to some fishing industry tycoon. To have a stranger see through your facade was unnerving.

“Disagreeing and screaming sounds like an argument to me.” He pushes, to which you hum noncommittally. Sensing your apprehension, he follows your line of sight to the pond instead. “The ducks left weeks ago.”

“I’m not looking for the ducks.” You answer shortly, perhaps a bit too harsh.

“Oh?” Is his only response.

It’s obvious he wants you to continue. This was a safer topic than your mother, so you yield to his piqued interest. “I like watching the swans. They were here earlier, but I think you scared them off.” Your eyes slide over to him slyly.

He scoffs, looking insulted. “The swans probably left because they were scared you’d mace them.”

You whirl on him, poking a finger into his chest. “The swans don’t lurk in the bushes at the park like a weirdo.”

His expression is unimpressed, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “No one was lurking. Besides,” He grabs the finger directed at him gently, guiding it down to your side. “You don’t make a good damsel in distress. Anyone trying to steal you would just bring you back when they figured out how mean you are.”

“I’ve been nothing but cordial.” You sniff, brows furrowing at him.

His smirk is a little overwhelming. “If this is you on your “Nice” setting, I’d hate to see you pissed off.”

“Stop pushing your luck, then.” You respond dryly. He throws his head back to laugh, and the sound makes you feel warmer in your coat.

You turn back to the pond, giving up on seeing the swans again tonight. You probably need to head home, anyways- you were expected at this stupid party, and suffering through it would be better than dealing with your mother’s nagging if you were absent. You let out a soft sigh, resigned to your fate.

“I should go.” You say to no one in particular.

You feel Noah’s eyes on you again. “Hey, don’t let me run you off. I can go if I’m bothering you-”

You shake your head, body turning to face him before you realize you’re moving. “No, it’s not you- really.” You offer what you hope is a kind smile. “I’m expected somewhere. My mother will be horribly cross with me if I’m not there.”

He’s giving you an understanding smile, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Sounds like a real rager. Will I, uh-” He glances down at his shoes, kicking at the snow before continuing, “Will I get to see you again?”

The question genuinely startles you. You assumed your demeanor (and mace) would be off-putting enough for him to be quite happy not speaking to you from this moment forward, but he… wanted to see you again?

“I mean,” You stammer, unable to find your words, “I’ll be around. At the park. If you’re also around.”

When he looks up, his face is alight. “Okay, yeah. I’ll also be around. Near the swans.”

A grin sneaks its way onto your face, unbeknownst to you. “Yeah, near the swans.” You avert your gaze, needing to look anywhere but at his hopeful expression. “See ya, Noah.”

He calls out a goodbye, but you’ve already scurried past him, the heels of your boots clicking rapidly against the sidewalk as you make your escape. You don’t dare glance back.

Your home is a few minutes away, shorter than usual given the fact that you’re practically jogging through the winter night. By the time you’ve shut your front door behind you, you’re out of breath, chest rising and falling heavily.

Your mother appears from the kitchen, her usual expression of passive annoyance plastered on her face. She calls your name, as if she needs to get your attention when you’re the only two people in the room. “Where have you been? It’s been snowing for half an hour, you’re going to catch a cold. And your boots are covered in mud- for heaven’s sake, really, we need to leave soon. Why are you grinning like that?”

You don’t register the smile on your face, still panting. Schooling your features into neutrality, you mutter out a quick, “I’m going to change clothes, be down in a sec.”

She’s ranting about punctuality and manners, but you barely hear it as you run up the stairs, grin overcoming your features once more as you think about dark eyes and soft smiles.

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #cowpokeomens

59 notes · View notes