#dance teacher!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xpoison-applex · 7 months

Text

Dancing with the Devil (Heeseung x Fem Reader)

This is smut! MINORS DNI!

Pairing: Heeseung x Y/N

Genre: Oneshot/ Smut/ Daddy/ Good Girl

Word Count: 1,226

Synopsis: Y/N is an upcoming dancer with dreams of making it big. Unfortunately your teacher, Heeseung, doesn't seem to think you can do anything right. But one night during a private practice, You come to find out just how he feels about you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was getting late, and you were exhausted.

You and your male partner, Chul-Soon, had been rehearsing the same routine over and over again for hours. You could tell he was getting weaker with each pass, his arms trembling more and more every time he had to lift you off the ground– Until finally.

Bam! You hit the ground with a painful thud, panting and sweating as you fought back tears.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean–”

The music came to a sudden stop; A look of aggravation cemented across your teacher’s face.

“Y/N! What was That!?” he yelled, walking across the studio floor to you.

Heeseung was the most respected dance instructor in Seoul. He had an amazing reputation for taking talentless nobody’s and turning them into big-name celebrities seemingly overnight. When you started this journey underneath his wing, you knew it was going to be difficult– You just didn’t expect it to be this difficult. It seemed that in his eyes, you could do nothing right. No matter what. Every misstep, every mistake was your fault and yours alone. You were frustrated, tired, and you couldn’t take the abuse from him anymore.

“It’s not my fault!” You said, defending yourself. “He dropped me!” you added.

Heeseung exhaled deeply, seeming as if he was going to lose his temper. He looks at your partner and waves his hand.

“Go. You’re done for the day. It’s obvious that Miss Y/N needs more of my attention.” He said, his voice cold and stern.

Not wanting to provoke Heeseung’s wrath, Chul-Soon quickly walked to the end of the studio, grabbed his duffle bag and left. The squeaking of the closing door echoed through the room, making your terrified heart pump wildly in your chest. You’ve never been left alone with Heeseung, and if he was willing to treat you so badly with witnesses around, there was no telling what he would do to you in private.

He said nothing as he stepped slowly toward the corner of the room, removing his shirt before tossing on top of his other belongings. His body was perfect, almost as if it was carved out of marble. He turned toward you, his eyes fixed and hooded with something else burning within them that made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. Something dangerous– Predatory.

“Come here, Y/N,” He purred, his tongue running over his bottom with a slight bite at the end.

You trembled slightly, swallowing thickly as you did as you were told.

“You’ll do the routine again; With me this time.” he said, holding his hand out for you to take.

You hesitated at first, but reached out to him. He grabbed your hand, jerking you toward him, ramming you into his rigid chest.

“You can’t hesitate, Y/N. That's your problem.” He growled, the heat of his breath moistening your skin. “You think too much…” He grips the back of your thigh, bringing your leg up so that it rests on his hip. One of his hands supports your lower back, and with his free hand he gently presses between your breasts, gliding his hand upward toward your neck as you lean back, reacting to his touch with an involuntary breath.

“Good girl,” He smiled, “Dance is about chemistry; About feeling.” His fingers wrap around your neck, applying firm yet gentle pressure. “You have to trust your partner.” He added, his voice low and decadent.

He jerks you back upright, his hand sliding down your shoulder; taking the strap of your leotard down with it. You gasp and he spins you around so that your back is against his chest.

“You need a lesson in letting go.” he whispers, his lips tickling your ear. “Don’t think. Let your body react naturally.” he added, his teeth finding your earlobe with a suckling nibble.

Your body chills against the cool air of the studio as he pulls the garment over your breasts, causing your nipples to perk and pucker against the open air. His breath shudders as he watches you in the mirror in front of you, savoring every inch of your body as he exposes it little by little. He tosses the garment aside and runs his hands up your frame, cupping your breasts in his hands as he pinches and pulls your sensitive nipples. An involuntary moan bursts through your lips as you bend and bow in his grasp.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs. “Let's see how reactive your body really is.” he breathes, Lifting your leg so it rests on the wooden beam used for stretches.

He holds your neck with one hand, the other glides down your stomach, over your pubic bone, and his fingers glide against the opening of your clitoral hood. The bundle of nerves underneath was so engorged, so tight and sensitive that when his finger grazed it, you gasped and moved your hand toward the intense sensation. His hand moves from your neck and snatches your hand away, holding it behind your back with a deep growl.

“Ah, Ah, Ah–” he tsks, rubbing your clit with a gentle circling motion. “The lesson isn’t over.” He pants.

You become more and more aware of the growing mass between his legs as it presses into your lower back. You wiggle and writhe as the intense pleasure builds with each pass of his finger. You whine and pant as his fingers travel down, finding the moistened opening.

He dips a finger inside.

“Oh Y/N, You’re so tight…” He moans. “There's no way you could handle my cock with such a small opening.”

He dips a second finger inside, spreading them against your walls as he plunges them in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Would you like to have me inside you, Y/N?” he asks, plunging his fingers deeper and faster with each entry.

“He-Heeseung,” You whimper, breathily.

It was agony; pure, delicious, agony. You struggled to find the words as your body tingled and throbbed at his mercy.

“Daddy’s going to need you to be a little more clear, baby girl.” he smiled, licking and suckling the sweat from your neck as you moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck behind you, tangling your fingers in his dampened hair.

“Please…” You cried out. “Please Daddy!”

He smiled, and spun you around, lifting the leg that rested on the stretching bar over his shoulder. With a deep sensual grunt, he filled you.

You gasped and threw your head back, reveling in the deliciously full feeling of having him inside you. His fingers moved back to your clit as he thrusted into you, stimulating you in ways that left your body begging for release. You gripped his shoulder, digging your nails into him as he growled and panted with his own pleasure.

You could feel every inch, every vein as he forced himself inside you, deeper; faster with every entry. Every decadent second pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His cock throbbed against your walls, sending you into a violent climax that made you cry out weakly with a trembling breath.

“Fuck!” he growled, releasing inside you with a deep, pleasure soaked shudder.

He smiled down at you with a trembling breath, kissing your forehead gently.

“Good girl,” he purred. –끝

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut imagines #smut #kpop smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung smut #heeseung imagines #y/n #dance #teacher x student #hot teacher #oneshot

177 notes · View notes

nebulousbrainsoup · 5 months

Note

Dino. Couples Choreo. https://youtu.be/cRwfkDVUWz4?si=1a83tMXS0ywc46Y1

i started on the minsang one and then. and then i watched this video. and now i can’t stop thinking about it. this also works for hoshi too, imo. i ended up not using idol names, so in theory this could be anyone!! but it’s all channie smiles in my head.

clickable video link

mdni; nsfw under the cut; lee chan x gn dancer!reader

contains: suggestive content, fantasizing, no real smut but everyone wishes it was, grinding, unprofessional dancing

dancing with you is always dangerous for him, he knows. you’re the reason he wears compression shorts and loose, dark pants on the rare occasion you attend a class together. choreographing or teaching with you, though, is an entirely different beast. you think with your body first—he does too; he can’t blame you, it’s easier that way. it’s hard for your beloved boyfriend, though, to keep focused when you’re moving like that, so perfectly and effortlessly

and so close against him.

his hand resting over your hip twitches with the urge to run his fingers lower, between your legs, to have you jerk back against him just a little harder, to drag your hips out of time against his. you've been close like this so many times before, breathing the same air as your eyes meet in the studio mirror. he should be used to this by now; being surrounded by your energy, breathing in your scent as he buries his nose into your hair and you squirm against each other—but he finds himself far from unaffected.

he has to catch himself and pause, jaw setting as he blinks hard, willing away the ache building in his sweats as you part. it's like you can read his thoughts as you turn back to face him, a smirk twitching your lip up, and he huffs a quiet laugh.

when you spin once more, bending over and grinding up against him, he has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, and the crowd gathered around you cheers. your chemistry has always been immaculate, so he plays into it to disguise his internal struggle, smirking as his hips roll forward against yours. if you were anyone else, the hand braced at the small of your back would be keeping you a respectable distance from his dick, but you’re you, and you’re his, so he settles the heel of his palm above your ass to keep you still and makes sure you feel how much he’s struggling.

you flash him a smirk over your shoulder as you part again, and he wants nothing more than to grab you by the waist, shove you up against the mirrors and have his way with you. but then his eyes meet his friend’s in the crowd, ever-observant with an unimpressed eyebrow raised, and his stomach drops. he refocuses in a second, grinning as he dances beside you instead of against you to finish out the piece.

you end up pressed against him once more, chest to chest as the combo winds down, and he presses his lips into your hair as he drags your hips flush against his. he chuckles lowly when he hears your breath catch in your throat, the thin material of your pants providing little cushion from the friction of his thigh.

“you’re going to get us in trouble one of these days,” he hums, stepping back to grin at you.

“trouble’s fun,” you tease, and he squeezes your hip.

“you’re so in for it when we get home, baby.”

masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

47 notes · View notes

onceuponastory · 2 years

Text

chemistry - bucky barnes x reader

The way you move is so dramatic I think I might make you a habit - higher by michael bublé

Plot: Trying to help get her out of the rut she’s been in since her breakup, Y/N’s best friend decides to sign her up for a dance class. There, she meets the passionate and incredibly attractive teacher, Bucky Barnes. Pairing: Dance Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A tiny mention of being in a rut after a breakup, and of Rumlow being a handsy creep. Also, some slightly possessive Bucky Barnes. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is another one of those AU ideas I have at 1am when I’m meant to be sleeping because I have work that day. ANYWAY, here we are. Sorry if my description of dancing isn’t the best, it’s been ages since I danced. I recommend you listen to Higher, because it partly inspired this fic. Also, dance teacher Bucky specifically looks him in Civil War cause he’s hot, and I said so.

Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Shifting uncomfortably in her position, Y/N glances around the room. A few weeks ago, Y/N’s boyfriend of a few years broke up with her, sending her into a rut she couldn’t climb out of. That was, however, until Y/N’s best friend told her she had an idea to get her out of this rut. Y/N thought she meant joining a dating app or introducing her to a friend. Turns out she was dead wrong: her best friend signed up for a new dance class. And a dance class is the last thing she wants to do. Who else would want to be seen in public after spending the past few weeks crying and eating ice cream? But her best friend combined with alcohol can be very persuasive. “Just go for one week. If you hate it, you never have to go again.” She had told her. And so, here she is. In all honesty, Y/N is already regretting agreeing to come here. She keeps a watchful eye on the exit so she can slip out when needed. She glances around the room. Everyone else seems so confident, making her feel even more out of her depth. This definitely was a bad idea. Yet, just before she leaves the room,

“Hello everyone.” A voice calls, Y/N turns, and immediately finds herself staring at one of the most gorgeous men she’s ever seen in her life. The man scans the room, his blue eyes looking over everyone. When his eyes reach Y/N, her breath hitches in her throat, all thoughts of her ex gone. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. She can’t leave now. “My name is Bucky, and I’m your dance teacher. I’ve been dancing for almost a decade now, and I’m here because I want to show everyone just how intense and rewarding dance can be.” As Bucky explains how much he loves dancing, Y/N stares at him, looking over every part of him. Huge muscles strain through his red shirt, and his brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils falling around his face. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Now, there are plenty of reasons why you may be here in my class. For example, you may want to try something new, or sharpen your skills.” He looks around the room once more, staring at everyone. In return, everyone keeps their gaze on him, his presence commanding. That, and he’s handsome as fuck. “Or perhaps you just want to meet people, and find a connection.” Bucky states, his eyes falling on her once more, almost as if he can smell the loneliness and heartbreak dripping off of her. Immediately, Y/N blushes, and the edge of Bucky’s lips twitch into a little smirk, almost as if he’s enjoying this. “So I want to start with a little ice breaker. Just introduce yourself and tell us why you’re here.” Oh shit.

Bucky goes around the room, calling on each person to introduce themselves. He leaves Y/N til last, dragging out her discomfort even further. With her heart pounding, Bucky soon reaches her. “And you are?” He grins. Y/N can already tell he’s enjoying this. Fucker. Stupid, sexy fucker.

“Um, I’m Y/N. And I’m here to….” As her voice trails off, Bucky’s eyebrow raises ever so slightly. There’s no way she can admit her heartbreak in front of everyone, especially not her attractive dance teacher. “Just meet new people.” She finishes, and Bucky nods. Yet, he still keeps his eyes on her, giving her a knowing look, one that tells her he knows there’s more than she’s letting on. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t press her any more.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s get started by getting into pairs.” As soon as she’s sure that Bucky’s gaze is off her, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief.

This is going to be interesting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite her original awkwardness and unwillingness, Y/N keeps returning to the dance class every week. Part of it is because it is actually fun, and almost all of her class seem really nice. But it’s mostly to see the dance teacher whose captivating gaze has been on her mind ever since she first saw him. And it seems she’s been on his mind, too. Each week, she notices him staring at her, a small smirk on his face. Despite how much she likes having the attention of her attractive teacher, and how good it makes it feel, deep down, it still does little to quell her feelings of self consciousness. Especially since Bucky refuses to speak to her, either about why she is so enticing to him, or even a simple hello. He’s also refused to pick her as his partner for a demonstration in front of the class, like he's done with almost everyone else. Of course, she’s glad she’s not had the possibility to embarrass herself in front of all her classmates, but Bucky’s lack of acknowledgement is driving her crazy. Of course, she knows she could just talk to him, but she’s still far too nervous to even approach him, let alone talk to him.

So every week she comes back, hoping to find a reason why she and Bucky seem to have such a connection with each other. One week, after the group finishes up a waltz, Bucky claps his hands together, signifying an announcement.

“Chemistry is something that’s incredibly important in dancing. If you dance with a stranger, you have to make it believable to the audience. Make them think you have known each other for months, years.” Bucky explains. Y/N raises a brow, wondering where he’s going with this. His next words make her wish she hadn’t asked. “So, for this next dance, I want you to pick a new partner, someone you aren’t as close to. Let’s see how believable you are.” As her classmates disperse and try to find someone new, Y/N gulps. Nobody seems to be heading her way. She throws a quick glance at Bucky, hoping he can help, but he’s preoccupied with sorting the music for this routine.

“Guess we’re partners, then.” A voice sounds. The voice belonging to Brock Rumlow. Shit. Brock is one of the few men in the class. That isn’t the issue, though. The issue is that he’s an unpleasant dickhead, and from what she’s heard, far too handsy, even when he’s told to stop. And now, she has to pretend to have a connection to him.

“Guess so!” She laughs awkwardly, trying not to grimace as Brock takes her hand in his, wrapping his other around her waist. God, hopefully this is over soon.

“Are we ready?” Bucky’s voice sounds as he turns back around. “Excellent. Well done, everyone.” He grins, his eyes scanning over the couples. When his gaze reaches Y/N and Brock, his smile immediately falters, and his blue eyes darken. “Right. We’ll start off with a waltz, just to see how you get on.” Bucky’s voice sounds dead, as if his happiness is gone in the blink of an eye. Y/N frowns. What the hell is going on?

However, she has little time to think about it before the music starts, and Brock pulls her closer. Right away, she can smell notes of alcohol on his breath, so strong and sudden it almost makes her gag. As they dance to the music, Y/N tries her best to act like she wants to be there, even though she can already feel Brock’s hands wandering lower. She tries to move his hands, but he suddenly twirls her, spinning her far too fast and suddenly for the speed of the dance. As she spins, she catches Bucky’s gaze. For a moment, everything seems to go in slow motion as their eyes meet. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, his jaw clenched as he watches Y/N and Brock dance. The whole spin, Bucky keeps his gaze fixed on her. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up. As the dance continues, she sees him staring at them again, looking even more pissed off. Just them. Nobody else. Bucky’s glare makes Y/N feel embarrassed all over again. They must really be terrible if he’s glaring at them like that. Deep down though, she still can’t deny how that look makes her entire body shiver.

Thankfully, the dance ends soon after, and the group takes a moment to catch their breaths. Footsteps sound, and Bucky walks up to Y/N and Brock. “Well done, well done. Now, Mr Rumlow, and…Miss Y/L/N, is it?” Bucky asks, coming to stand by them. Immediately, a shit-eating grin spreads on Brock’s face, whilst Y/N swears her heart almost stops. She’s never been this close to Bucky before. Close enough to see every freckle and beauty mark dotting his face, and the few grey hairs in his stubble.

“Yes sir. We were good, weren’t we?” Brock grins, straightening his posture. Bucky chuckles.

“Well, Y/N was.” Brock’s face falls, and Y/N’s mouth drops open. If it wasn’t her in this situation, she would laugh. “She perfectly achieved what I was looking for.”

“W-What?” Brock splutters. Y/N is too surprised to even speak.

“Yes.” Bucky nods, developing a grin of his own. “If it’s alright, I’d like to borrow her for this next dance, just to show everyone how it’s done.” He turns to her, his blue eyes falling on her once more. He smiles, one that she swears makes her knees go weak. “So.” His voice speaks, low, husky, and inviting. Immediately, she’s mesmerised. “Y/N, would you like to be my partner?” He asks, beckoning her closer. Y/N nods with a gulp, already embarrassed as she feels everyone’s gaze on her. But she only focuses on Bucky. He takes her hand in his, sending sparks throughout her entire body. He leads her away from Brock and into the centre of the dance floor. “Music please.” The intro to a song begins to play, one Y/N recognises immediately, and it does little to quell her nerves. This isn’t a waltz. It’s a tango, a dance they haven’t done in a while, and definitely something she wasn’t prepared for. Before she can even say something, Bucky pulls her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. Her sudden proximity to him makes her gasp as the scent of his aftershave enters her nostrils, and Bucky smirks. “It’s alright. Just do what I do.” He whispers. “Ready?” He asks, and she nods.

As the song kicks in, Bucky and Y/N dance together, their bodies connected as they move in time to the music. The feeling of Bucky’s touch against her skin, and feeling the fabric of his shirt between her fingers makes her entire body tingle. Still though, she keeps focused on the dance, despite how being in such close proximity to Bucky is making her brain go haywire. As the song continues, Y/N feels more comfortable in his grasp, like this is where she’s meant to be. She also feels herself becoming more confident. So much so, in fact, that she even throws in a few of her own moves and footwork, ones that Bucky matches effortlessly. “Oh. I see.” He whispers when she’s back in his arms, keeping his gaze trained on her with a smirk, one that Y/N returns. “Try this then.” Without another word, Bucky dips her, making her gasp. She doesn't have time to react before Bucky twirls her. He lets go as she spins, the skirt of her dress spinning out around her. Before she stops, he takes her into his arms once more, wrapping them around her waist to steady her.

As the song ends, the pair are still wrapped in each other's embrace. As she feels the warmth of Bucky’s body against hers, Y/N matches his breathing, cooling herself down. Although her heart rate still feels like it’s about a million miles a minute. And this time, she knows it’s not just because of the dancing. Bucky spins her around to face him. Y/N looks up, seeing some loose tendrils of Bucky’s hair falling around his face. She lifts her hands, ready to tuck them behind his ears. It’s only when she hears applause that Y/N remembers where she is, and that they’re not alone. Her hands drop. For a moment, Bucky looks disappointed that they’re not alone either. But he quickly fixes a smile onto his face. “Well done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the class passes by in a blur, Y/N too preoccupied with the intensity and chemistry of her dance with Bucky to focus on anything else. Later that night, Y/N waits outside for her best friend to pick her up. She’s been caught in traffic for the past fifteen minutes, but promises she’s on her way. Y/N sighs, pulling her jacket closer around her as the chilly autumn wind blows. Hopefully her friend gets here soon. While Y/N waits, she tries her best to think of a way to possibly explain what happened tonight, but she can’t put it into words. All she can say is she never wants to dance with anyone else ever again. She still remembers the sensation of Bucky’s body pressed up against hers, and it’s making her just as breathless and giddy as it did earlier on.

“Y/N.” A familiar voice speaks, and Y/N gasps. Bucky. Maybe being delayed isn’t so bad after all. She turns to wave at him, although she’s still unsure of how to even look at him after their passionate dance earlier.

“Hi Bucky.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to still be here after class ended. Do you need a ride somewhere?” He offers, gesturing to a sleek BMW parked only a few feet away. Bucky’s choice of cars is little of a surprise to Y/N. Judging by the scent of his cologne, he definitely has a lot of money. Y/N has never wished that she didn’t have a ride more than she does in that moment.

“No, it’s okay. My friend is on her way to get me. Thanks though.” Once more, Bucky looks disappointed, but nods regardless.

“By the way, good job tonight. I know I said it already, but you’re a really talented dancer, and I think you’ll go far. I’ll see you next week, alright?” As Bucky turns to leave, Y/N realises she might never have an opportunity like this again: to ask him alone how he really feels about her.

“Bucky? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What is it?” He smiles, the same smile that makes her knees go weak.

“Why did you choose me to dance with you today? You’ve never danced with me before.” Bucky chuckles. He steps closer, and Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat.

“Well, it was on chemistry, wasn’t it? So I had to choose someone I have chemistry with, and who I knew could match the intensity, both of me and the dance. You were a perfect fit.” Y/N can already feel herself falling deeper in love with him, as if their dance tonight didn’t already do that. “And of course, you were having a tough time with Brock.” He explains. Y/N remembers Bucky’s hard, pointed stare in Brock’s direction. At first, she thought it was just because they were terrible. Now, though, she sees it in a new light. Was he…jealous?

“Thanks.” Bucky nods. Yet, he doesn’t leave, and keeps staring at her.

“May I ask you a question now?” Y/N nods. “Why did you come to my class?” Immediately, Y/N is cast back to the very first time she and Bucky met, with her standing and watching him as he rattled off explanations for people’s attendance, looking at her when he mentioned finding connections. If only she knew just how deep this connection would go.

“Well, my boyfriend dumped me, so my best friend suggested I come and try something new to get over the heartbreak, and maybe meet someone new.” She just didn’t expect to meet someone like Bucky. Upon the mention of her ex, Bucky tuts.

“I see. If I may, that ex of yours is a total fucking idiot for dumping someone like you.” The sound of the usually dignified Bucky swearing is unfamiliar, especially when it comes to her. Yet Bucky’s protectiveness over her makes her stomach flutter. “In a strange way, though, I’m glad. Because it brought you to me.” Y/N feels her stomach fluttering even more, and she mumbles another thank you. Y/N and Bucky stand together for a while longer, staring into each other’s eyes, neither saying anything. “Y/N?” Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

“Mhm?” He steps closer, tilting his head slightly. Almost as if he’s about to kiss her. Y/N glances at his lips.

“Would you like to-” But the sound of an approaching engine cuts Bucky off. Y/N huffs. Of course her friend shows up now. Y/N waits to hear what Bucky will say before going. She waited long enough for her friend, so her friend can wait a few minutes for her. To her surprise though, he instead says: “No. It’s alright. You should go.”

“Wait, but-” Y/N gasps, trying desperately to get Bucky to stay with her, or to at least finish his sentence. He looks over at her once more, and for a moment, he hesitates.

“No, it doesn’t matter.” He mumbles. “I’ll see you in class next week, okay?” He smiles.

And then, he’s gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Don’t worry, I don’t think this is the last you’ve seen of dance teacher Bucky ;)

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #dance teacher!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x Female Reader

420 notes · View notes

coolesth · 2 years

Text

What started as a clothing study melded together with an idea I had for a while… With that, I introduce you to my Dance AU! At Superstar Performing Arts, Sun and Moon teach partner dances. Sun teaches salsa, quickstep, and other similar dances while Moon teaches waltz, bolero, etc! Unable to deny a request out of desperation from a friend, Y/N begrudgingly joins them in signing up for their classes. What lies ahead in Y/N's future now that these mechanical dancers are in their life? I'll be writing and drawing more about this AU in the future, so stay tuned!

#dance au #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #my art #doodles #dance teacher! sun #dance teacher! moon #sun x moon x reader #sun x y/n #sundrop #moon x y/n #moondrop #excited to flesh this out a bit more #hehehehe can't wait to say more of my ideas

83 notes · View notes

beef-bakery · 2 years

Text

Braids and Ballerinas

Summary: you’re a dance teacher in the nicer parts of Zaun and one day you’re greeted by a very unlikely little girl

Rating: Jinx & GN!Reader (platonic) Silco/GN!Reader (secondary) - SFW - 1.9k words

Tags: dance teacher!reader, ngl this is primarily focused on the relationship between Jinx and reader, not much of the old man I’m afraid, absolutely no one asked for this but I was at the ballet the other day and churned this out after being reminded of my dancing days, hopefully this is enough to tie you guys over until the next chapter of tlwos

The first time Jinx showed up to your class, you were surprised. Before then, there was never a case of a child showing up to take a dance class at your studio. Sure you were based in Zaun, but you were close enough to the border where Piltovians of lower houses or those bordering on poverty - that is, keeping in mind the gap between Piltover and Zaun’s economy - could attend your studio.

Regardless of wealth, it was simply rare to see children in your studio. Many Piltover families who wished to raise their children to become dancers or performers enrolled them in higher up academies or Piltover studios, which offered the same curriculum that you did, only at a higher price.

Keeping that in mind, your dance studio did not particularly cater to children. Located in the nicer area of the Undercity, particularly near the brothels and higher cost restaurants that Zaun offered, your studio’s patrons consisted mainly of adult dancers: those who were training to join the cabaret, those wanting to gain core strength to progress onto pole dancing, or those who simply wanted to improve their flexibility for… several reasons.

However, upon seeing the bright eyed little girl come in, you found it hard to turn her down.

“I'm sorry, but you’re too young to be taking this class.” You had said, leaning over the counter to look closer at the short girl. “This studio is for adults only.”

“I don't see a sign saying that.” She had said simply, crossing her arms across her chest, a clear sign that she was not going to back down without a fight. And she was right, there was no sign because it had never crossed your mind that a child would ever want to take classes at your studio.

“Well, I don't think you could afford my classes.” You said, before quickly adding, “no offense.”

“None taken,” Jinx said, surprisingly well spoken for a girl of her age. “And I asked about how much it would cost, and I'd think this would cover it.” she then placed a bag of coins on the table, to which your eyes widened at the heavy sound it had made connecting with the wood.

You sifted through the bag, your eyes growing large. Such a large amount of money could cover numerous months worth of lessons, hell, it could even cover the rent on your studio for a couple months. You looked up at the girl, your hand still caught in the bag. “And this is all for how many lessons?” At this point, you could not say no to the young girl. If you hadn't the heart to before, the idea that you wouldn't have to worry about rent for the next couple of months cemented the idea in your mind. You couldn't say no.

“Well my dad said that they had to be private lessons, and he gave me enough to cover…” she began counting under her breath, using her fingers. “Around 4 months of lessons? And I wanted two sessions a week, so, 32 lessons?”

You let out a slow breath of air, no one had ever booked this far in advance and you had only ever offered public classes. “How did you even hear about me?”

“I saw one of your shows.” she said, and you could see the tension releasing from her back. She had grown comfortable with the idea that you were not going to deny her. “In a bar on Tuesday, you did that leg thing-” she stopped talking, moving to grab her leg and attempt to lift it above her head. You smiled at her, laughing quietly to yourself.

“I see.” You remembered the show she was referring to, you had been booked for a gig at the White Lion and performed a risque jazz piece, scantily clad. It was one of the nicer bars, offering bouncers and live music as opposed to the seedy clubs you made a point not to frequent, without bouncers and crackly music coming from broken speakers. The White Lion was frequented by Piltoverians who wanted a taste of the Undercity without getting their hands dirty or their lives put in danger. It was along the river’s edge, just beneath the bridge, but nice enough to the point where people continued to show up. That being said, you hadn't expected such a high ranking bar to let in a child.

“How did you even get in?” You asked, curious.

She smiled up at you, a gap gleaming through the center of her grin. “I snuck in.”

“Wow,” you said, slightly in awe. Not many people could say they snuck through the tightly secured bar. “You must be a pretty smart girl to get through the security.”

“I guess you could say that.” She said, shrugging as if it was nothing, but the shine in her eyes gave her away, she enjoyed your praise.

“I'll tell you what,” you rocked back onto your heels, from where you had leaned over the counter to talk to her. “You can start taking classes here, private of course.” You looked up from the paperwork you had grabbed from a filing cabinet behind the counter making reassuring eye contact with her. “But cancellations must be made 24 hours in advance or you have to pay a cancellation fee. You can sign up for when you’d like to take them on this sheet.” You handed her a clipboard, which she greedily took. You clicked a pen, putting its tip to the paper as you looked up through your lashes at her. “And you said your name was…?”

Jinx was a quick learner, picking up choreography quickly and stretching her bendy limbs in ways even you couldn't. Her technique was impeccable, pointing her toes on command without any reminders from you, stretching her arms wide, keeping high energy, and holding from her back.

“Jeez Jinx, I think you could start teaching the class now.” You said fondly, ruffling the hair she had forgotten to pull back into a bun.

Jinx had detested the idea of putting her hair back in a bun, typically opting for a braid, but you had insisted. Nevertheless, she ignored you, which backfired on her after a particularly powerful pirouette caused her braid to snap her cheek. After that, she had left her hair down or allowed you to twist it into a bun.

She giggled softly, turning to look up at you, eyes shining brightly with cheeks slightly flushed from the workout the two of you had just completed. “You really think so?” she puffed her chest out a little bit.

“I do,” you smiled. “And I think you’re ready for your first recital.”

Jinx’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “For real?”

“Of course! I think it's about time we show your old man what you've been working on.” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “How does next Tuesday sound?”

“I don't know if he’ll be free then but he’ll clear his schedule for me.” she said.

Jinx often talked about her dad, saying he was very protective of her, and from the occasional guards which accompanied her to class after a particularly gruesome crime occurred, you didn't disbelieve her. From what she had said to you, she hadn't had a mom or any siblings. Anymore. She had added quickly after you inquired if she had any siblings who wanted to take classes from you.

“It's a date.” You called after her as she packed up her dance bag and waved goodbye to you.

Jinx was a mesmerizing dancer, you thought as you watched her move across the marley, spotting perfectly. Her expressions were concentrated and portrayed strong emotions, her breaths coming in huffs. Jinx had picked the songs herself, and the two of you had worked side by side to choreograph the right moves.

You were in the small booth your studio offered, handling the lights and sound. You hadn't had enough time to book a club, not that you wanted Jinx’s first recital to be in front of tens of strangers; so you had settled for the small performing area your studio supplied, considering there was only an audience of one.

You hadn't had time to meet Jinx’s dad, too busy fussing over Jinx’s hair, slicked back into a tight bun, which she had complained about every time you slipped another bobby pin into it. And after the hair, you had headed to the booth, giving the jittery girl a thumbs up.

In the dark room, you could see the backs of two heads, watching the tiny girl as she improvised a front walkover. You flipped the spotlight on, following the girl as the music faded out. Jinx took a bow, a grin breaking across her face.

The two figures stood up, giving her a standing ovation. You smiled softly as you watched Jinx walk into the wings, her head held high.

You made your way out of the booth, walking out to the lobby. Jinx had beaten you there, holding a large bouquet of roses, standing in front of a bulky woman with a metal arm and a rather tall man, hair dark save for a small strip of gray slightly deviated from the center of his head. What drew you to him was the scar running down his left eye, extending to the center of his cheek. His eye was nearly all black, except for the deep red pupil in the center. His gaze was piercing as his focus shifted to you.

The woman behind him handed him another bouquet, this one full of daisies. He patted Jinx softly before heading toward you. You smiled politely at him, clasping your hands together.

“You must be Jinx’s dad.” You said at the same time he said, “you must be Jinx’s teacher.” You laughed softly. “Yes I am.”

He smiled and smoothly handed you the flowers. “Thank you for your work with Jinx, I know that not everyone is willing to teach a child, especially with the grace and patience you have, and for that I deeply thank you for it.”

“Oh, it was nothing. You see, it's very easy to be a good teacher when you have an amazing student.” You craned your head to look at Jinx, who had latched onto the woman’s metal arm, who was standing stony faced as if nothing was happening. “That must be your partner-?” You asked presumptuously.

Jinx’s dad’s eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline before he barked out a laugh. “Sevika? Oh no, I'm afraid you must be mistaken, she's my employee.”

“Oh I am so sorry,” your eyes widened as you began to babble. “Jinx had never talked about a mom and I was so surprised to see her dad with someone here that I made an assumption, I am so sorry.” you apologized.

“It's ok, if anything, at least your speculation was amusing.” he smiled, taking your suspicion with grace.

“Once again I am so sorry,” You cleared your throat, desperate to move on from your embarrassing accusation. “If anything though, I must say, you have raised a wonderful daughter. She is a pleasure to teach and is such a wonderful student and person. She is so polite and thoughtful, I couldn't’ve raised a better child myself.”

He smiled at you, showing chipped front teeth. “Thank you very much.”

You introduced yourself, smiling shyly. “And you are?”

“My name is Silco.” You felt the blood drain from your face. You had never been very interested in the politics of Zaun, but if anything, you remembered names very well.

“S-Silco?”

78 notes · View notes

jewels2876 · 2 years

Text

Pas de Deux

I’m back! Ish. I’ve got a Bingo Card and I REALLY REALLY need to try and complete it this year

Square filled: Dance Teacher AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 502

No warnings - just some kisses and fluff!

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

Pic below is from my favorite bean @jobean12-blog

“I think I’m gonna faint,” you whispered from the wings. Bucky heard you and chuckled.

“You got nothing to worry about, doll, I promise.” He glanced out at the first year students as they pranced around the stage; the music to Mama Mia! blared from the speakers close by.

“But the lift… rehearsals yesterday…” Your hands wrung at the thought of screwing up in front of the large audience. Bucky reached out, grabbing each of your hands before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Look at me.” You took a deep breath but kept looking ahead. “I said, look at me.” His right hand dropped yours to reach up and touch your chin, gently forcing your gaze on him. Your heart fluttered, taking in his beautiful face. I want to kiss him so bad.

I want to kiss her so badly right now; fuck it. His head lowered, giving you time to say something, anything, to stop him. Instead your eyes closed as his lips brushed over yours softly; you let out a quiet whine and his mouth slanted over yours, deepening the kiss. His left hand was cradling the back of your head; your hands clung to his shoulders, being mindful of the costume. The song ended abruptly and you both pulled back. The first years swarmed around the two of you, oblivious to what had just happened.

“Break a leg you two!” a couple of them said as the music started up again. Bucky took off from the wings with a grande jette, smoothly transitioning into a complicated series of jumps and spins. You raised your fingers to your lips, wanting to keep the memory of that kiss alive for what was about to come. The song was short, but enough to show the audience what an amazing soloist Bucky truly was on stage. You took another deep breath, readying yourself for your queue.

You and Bucky ran back to the wings, breathless and alive from the thunderous applause. “That was so fun,” you squealed in delight. Bucky grabbed you into a warm embrace, ignoring the first years who were huddled around for their next dance.

“And the lift?” he teased as he pulled back to study your face. He groaned as you bit your lip, raising your gaze up and pretending to think hard before giggling. New music started and the wings were empty once more, save for you and Bucky.

“You were right.” You smiled bemusedly. “It was amazing and I shouldn’t have worried.”

Bucky’s grin grew. “You might be one of my best partners. You admit when I’m right; you trust me to catch you. You fill out that leotard pretty well too.”

You bit your lip again. “You’re not so bad yourself there, sir.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened slightly at the title as he took a step towards you. “Maybe you could find out how good I am, over dinner let’s say?” He took another step, his head leaning down. You raised up and answered with a kiss.

#marvelfluffbingo2022 #bucky barnes x female reader #dance teacher au #dance teacher!bucky #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #bucky barnes

23 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 4 months

Text

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

#spilled ink #warm up #“why did u tag it warm up” bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol #btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can #run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her #but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like.#ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone!#like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate''#we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!

47K notes · View notes

tojipure · 3 months

Text

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like.

And perhaps that's what it was.

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong.

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–”

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted.

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later.

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer.

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it.

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi.

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.”

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch.

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking.

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #angst #jjk angst #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro angst #toji fushigro x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #rosipuree

8K notes · View notes

lev1hei1chou · 1 month

Text

Little Snitch

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 444 Synopsis: Gojo's son is a snitch Masterlist

Gojo Satoru strode into the preschool, his white hair practically glowing against the backdrop of the brightly colored walls. His usual confident grin was plastered on his face as he approached the reception desk to sign in for his son.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gojo," greeted the receptionist with a warm smile.

"Hey there! Here to pick up S/N," Gojo replied cheerfully, signing the necessary paperwork before making his way to the classroom.

As he stepped into the room, he immediately spotted his son playing with blocks in the corner. The little boy's eyes lit up at the sight of his father and he ran over, wrapping his tiny arms around Gojo's legs.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

"Hey, champ! Ready to go home?" Gojo asked, ruffling S/N's hair affectionately.

"Yeah!" the younger boy nodded eagerly, taking his father's hand as they made their way out of the classroom.

As they walked through the hallway, a young teacher approached them with a friendly smile. "Hello, Mr. Gojo. I couldn't help but notice how adorable S/N is. You must be so proud."

Gojo's grin widened, his charisma oozing effortlessly. "Oh, definitely. He takes after his father, afterall."

The young teacher blushed slightly at his words, her gaze lingering on Gojo for a moment longer than necessary. "Well, if you ever need any help with S/N, or anything else for that matter, please don't hesitate to ask."

Gojo chuckled softly, giving her a charming wink. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

As they exited the preschool and headed home, his son chatted animatedly about his day making expressive gestures with his hands, oblivious to the brief exchange between his father and the teacher.

Once they were home, the little one burst through the door and ran straight to where his mother was waiting in the living room.

"Mama! Mama!" he exclaimed, tugging on her sleeve.

"What is it, sweetheart?" you asked, smiling down at him.

"Daddy talked to a pretty lady at school today!" he announced excitedly.

You raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your eyes as you turned to Gojo, who entered the room with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" you teased, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I shut her down real quick," Gojo said with a wink, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

You laughed, shaking your head in mock disapproval. "Well, it looks like I'll have to start picking him up from school from now on. Can't have you causing trouble with the teachers."

Gojo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Sounds like a plan, babe."

2K notes · View notes

libraryraccoon · 6 months

Text

Yuu and reader but

But reader is forgettable.

Imagine Reader who arrived in Twisted Wonderland with Yuu, they got along very well together and with Grim, but Yuu and Grim end up abandoning Reader, creating their group of friends that we all know. Reader tries to approach them, become friends with them, but without success.

And then Reader finds himself alone, and everyone acts as if he doesn't exist. So much so that Reader questions his existence and becomes very quiet.

The ghosts realize this and spend time with Reader, and Reader considers them his only true friends. I'm pretty sure Reader would have tried to kill himself to become a ghost and join the ghosts gang but would have failed.

Reader would have stopped going to class, some teachers (Trein and Crewel) would have noticed and talked to him about it.

Reader walks around campus at all hours without anyone noticing him (he would have already been dancing in class and singing loudly and out of tune and no one would have noticed).

In the end, Reader is left alone for so long, talking to no one except the ghosts, that he forgets his name (the ghosts call him "Little Ghost").

And at book 5, he meets Chenya. And this is how it happens :

“What do you do alone ?” Chenya asked.

"Wait... Are you talking to me ?" Reader asked sitting in a tree, looking left and right before looking at Chenya.

"Yeah ? There's no one else around." the cat remarked amusedly.

"Oh- sorry I'm not used to people seeing me !" Reader said with a smile on his face, excited that someone alive was talking to him.

"Huh ? Why ?" Chenya asked, frowning in confusion.

“Well, people still act like I’m not there, like I don’t exist.” Reader explained. “Exept ghosts, you’re the first to talk to me in months !”

“oh…” Chenya looked worried. “And what’s your name ?”

"Oh I'm-huh..." Reader said before frowning.

“Well, hello ‘huh’, I’m Chenya.” Chenya said trying to lighten the mood.

“Nah, nah.. I don’t remember my name.” Reader said sounding scared, his breathing quickening.

“huh ?”

"What's my name? What's my name? Who am I? I forgot? I forgot..."

"Hey, calm down, you'll remember.." Chenya tried to calmly reassure.

"No- no ! You're not supposed to notice me or talk to me ! Go with more important people, people who remember their names, who they are !" (Reader having an existential crisis <3)

In the end, Chenya manages to calm Reader down, and he calls him "Little Ghost" (like ghosts) until they find his name.

After that, Chenya will talk about that as his friends at the RSA (like Neige), and they would do all for create a new identity at Reader and after that they will take him with them at the RSA (The RSA director was the one that have the idea of the new identity).

Sam friends of the other side won't stop crying about "The child that have forget his name", making Sam confused (they never answer at his questions about him).

And Trein would be the one finding out that Reader have left three days later.

If nobody write that, I will write it myself.

3K notes · View notes

notmyneighbor · 1 month

Text

Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.

The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.

There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.

The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.

He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.

Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”

The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”

“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”

“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”

You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.

“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.

You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.

Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way

You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.

The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.

You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”

“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”

“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.

“You asked me to tell you.”

“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile

“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”

The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”

”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”

You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.

He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.

I say I'll care forever

And I mean forever

He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.

He kisses you.

You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.

His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.

“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.

The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.

There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.

You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.

“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.

The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.

The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.

Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.

The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.

Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.

It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”

You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.

“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.

“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.

“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.

You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”

The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.

“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x you #milkman x reader #doppelgänger

2K notes · View notes

riddleriddles · 3 months

Text

ෆ delicate

ෆ matthew riddle x hufflepuff! shy! reader

ෆ summary: the one in which Matthew can’t leave such a beautiful girl crying alone in a dress like that.

ෆ warnings: English translated from google (please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes), alteration of the history of mattheo and tom (tom is not voldemort but an potions teacher like snape).

ෆ notes: i just love shy!reader so much, im sorry if all my one shots are all with shy or hufflepuff reader, IM JUST A GIRL

𖦹

Parties have never really been your favorite way to spend time, loud music and dancing until your feet hurt in the middle of many strangers, not really your tipe of thing.

But a prom was so different, the music was slow, and the dresses, the delicate makeup, even more the winter ball, with the decorations in light shades of blue and white, was a dream.

Especially when you had someone to spend the night, a date, but maybe for lack of popularity, you hadn’t gotten a pair for tonight, your circle of friends was extremely limited, but if you did not have a pair it was not for lack of desire.

Since the prom was announced, you dreamed of being invited by none other than Cedric Digory.

He was tall, kind, sweet, confident, and extremely outgoing, always surrounded by his friends, but you weren’t special for having the attention picked up by Digory, half the girls of your year also dreamed the same thing as you, on being asked to be his date on the romantic night of the winter dance, unfortunately, you and Cedric, although you’ve interacted a few times - just a few little conversations he pulled during class, or little smiles as you passed each other in the hallway - you were very different, he was extremely confident and liked the attention, you did not.

In the little conversations you shared with him, you believed that those glances and those smiles had a greater meaning, maybe you forgot that he was just polite, or you knew but liked to pretend not, because the feeling was good, of being seen, of someone enjoying holding a conversation, and as much as you didn’t talk so much, he liked your words spoken in a low tone of quiet, or you thought he liked it.

the weeks passed and nothing came, not an owl or a letter, not even a flower, so your hopes were lost, as much as you had heard through the corridors that Cedric Digory had no pair and was considering going alone to the winter ball.

…

With only a few minutes left until the beginning of the prom, you were lying on the bed, wet hair tied in a towel with a robe around your body, looking at the ceiling with your hands resting one on top of the other in the region of your chest.

the room smelled like shampoo and the fragrance of the strawberry liquid soap you shared in the bathroom with your roommates.

"Come on, you need to go!" Lizzie, your closest friend, and roommate says excited, you and she used to make plans for a long time about this dance together. "We've been talking about it for so long, just for you to give up because of Cedric?"

She talks to you while tiing her hair delicately in a built-in braid, her yellow dress contrasting with her brown eyes and blonde hair.

"Oh Liz, you don't understand..." you whine "I don't have a pair, you at least go with someone nice."

"If that's the problem, you know I can leave Oliver dancing alone while we dance together." she rolls her eyes playfully and says excitedly, she looks at you through the mirror, you turn your face so that yours looks to meet, you smile softly at her.

"Don't do that." you say and giggles lightly.

You turn your head up again and sigh.

"All right, I’ll go..." You give yourself defeated and hear a lively scream from Liz, sit on the bed with your legs crossed.

She finishes the braid in her hair and finally turns to you looking for approval.

"do i look good?" She asks making an exaggerated pose with her hands on her waist and a smile from ear to ear.

She had a long yellow dress with several details of embroidered white flowers, and her blonde hair was in a single built-in braid with some messy strands giving her a stripped air, a yellow heel on her feet.

You smile at her and answer with a giggle "You look beautiful Liz, I'm sure Oliver will fall in love with you once again!"

Her smile changes to a shy smile and she looks at herself in the mirror again.

"I'm going to ask one of the girls to do my makeup, I hope that when I get back you'll be very ready for us to go!" She says excited and takes her makeup case, it is white with kittens and pink tulips and fits in the palm of her hand.

You suppress a smile with your lips and nod your head agreeing.

As soon as she leaves the dorm you get out of bed and go to the shared vanity, you sit on the wooden chair looking at your reflection in the mirror.

So you did your best to feel beautiful enough to go to the ball, dried your hair, and made a small braid on each side, a white bow holding them together, a light makeup on your face with a little glitter marking your eyes, and some golden accessories.

You get up from the vanity and walk to the full-length mirror that was on the door of the big wardrobe you shared with Lizzie.

The dress was hanging right next to the mirror, she went to her heels it was a shade of pearly white and made all of silk, it was beautiful, and you have been dreaming of it for so long.

You take it by the hanger and gently dress it with you back to the mirror, after fixing your hair and accessories, you turn to the mirror again and the view enchants you, feeling so beautiful, the dress had fallen so well on your body and your makeup, along with the simple hairstyle that made you so delicate.

Soon you hear the door open and turn quickly.

Lizzie gasped with an admired smile on her face and approached you quickly.

"You look won-der-ful!" She holds your hand and makes you do a little spin, a slight blush of shyness arrives on your cheeks while you give a soft giggle.

She releases from your hand and goes to the chair where two purses are hanging, one in a yellow and white tone and the other all white with small details in golden, she takes your lip gloss on top of the vanity and puts it inside the white purse, along with a mascara and a pink lip moisturizer that she puts in the yellow one, Going to you, she extends the white and you take it and put it on your shoulder.

"Let's go... the girls told me that Oliver is already waiting for me downstairs!" She says excited, ready to leave the dorm.

…

The great hall was splendid, in a whole shade of dark blue, the false sky with small and bright stars, the music was lively but still calm, couples were dancing in the center and some other people and groups of friends on the decorated tables.

You entered right behind Oliver and Lizzie, enjoying the place.

You sat at a table together where you shared a small talk to pass the time, as far as you could no longer ignore the passionate looks that Olive sent to her best friend and decided to leave them alone for a few minutes.

"I'm going to get something to drink, I'll be right back..." you asked excuse me getting up from the table with a gentle smile on her lips, Liz reciprocated shyly before giving all her attention to the brunette next to her.

Following up to a large table that was full of appetizers and different types of drinks, you took a red plastic cup and filled it with strawberry punch, from afar you could see Lizzie and olive sharing laughter, so you decided it was better to stay there for a while.

you got distracted looking down at your fingers while playing with the golden rings there, so distracted that you didn’t hear or notice when a tall brown boy came up to your side.

"Hey! you here!" Cedric said excitedly coming to your side with a little tap on your shoulder.

your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden presence of the boy, you turned to him with a small glance at his hand on your shoulder, visibly shy.

your heart began to beat faster in your chest and suddenly your throat was dry and your head could not find words to answer the boy with such beautiful eyes.

"Cedric... hi" you were louder than usual on account of the music playing, a small smile on your lips.

"You look good." he says in a charming tone approaching you, he passes by your side as he approaches the table behind you.

your cheeks are flushed with the comment and you don't know how to answer so you just chuckle shyly and admire him as he looks at the table.

"Thank you." you wanted to say that he looked good too but the words don’t seem to want to leave your mouth.

He serves himself in a red plastic cup just like yours, you watch him as he takes a gray canteen out of his suit pocket and baptizes the drink in the cup, you look at him and he seems not to notice, you look away at the couples dancing in the center of the Great hall.

He leans against your side, an arm leaning on the table behind your back without touching you, you suppress your lips, nervous with his proximity, playing with your rings again you swear you can feel your heart almost jumping from your chest.

He lifts the canteen as if offering you some of the whiskey he kept in his suit.

"Do you drink?" he asks with a gentle smile as if asking a casual question.

you look around nervous to see if any teacher is looking at you, which fortunately is not.

"No, but thank you." you gently refuse with a shy smile, he nods and hides the canteen on his suit again.

Now it’s his turn to watch the couples dancing in the center of the prom, a huge jealousy hitting his chest as he sees Cho Chang dancing in the arms of another boy.

You don’t follow his gaze, still playing your rings, the silence starts to bother you when he suddenly catches your hand, you look at him surprised, kinda bothered by the sudden touch.

"Do you want to dance?" he asks with an almost nervous smile.

suddenly you were speechless again, he wanted to dance? with you?

you nodded looking a little bit more lively, a big smile popping up on your lips.

was playing a song you didn’t know as Cedric took you to the center of the Great Hall, his hand resting on your waist.

you danced in a funny sync, but for you, everything seemed perfect. At least until you realize that Cedric wasn’t even paying attention to you.

you exclaimed softly in pain as he stepped on a finger as you danced, stopping for a few seconds.

He suddenly takes his eyes off something he was staring at behind you and looks at you surprised, then gives a little look at your foot, realizing his mistake.

"Oh, sorry, really sorry, I swear I’m not that bad normally" he apologizes with a nervous expression.

You can only nod your head and agree with a fake smile realizing that he doesn’t even care to look at you while apologizing, you follow his gaze and find none other than Cho Chang dancing and laughing with some other Corvinal boy.

You look away before he notices, and look down at your feet, gathering the courage to give an excuse to leave, he seems to notice.

"hey... you all right?" he asks with a gentle little smile and pretending to be worried.

So you look up at him, and you realize that he wasn’t trying to hurt you, of course, it was a little rude to treat you as a second choice, but it wasn’t his fault if he didn’t have feelings for you.

You sigh quietly “im sorry, cedric, i gotta go”

You don’t wait for an answer and get rid of his arms without looking at him because you know if he asks looking in your eyes you would stay.

Passing the couples dancing together you run a firm step out of the Great Hall, hoping to be alone for a while.

The thought of coming to the prom alone was beginning to look pathetic in your head, you should have stayed in your dorm.

you pass through the corridor of the stairs and follow to the courtyard, a bubble of anguish forming in your throat, along with the burning in the tip of your nose, indicating the will to cry.

You always used to cry for silly things, as simple as they were, like the end of a romantic book, or a sad movie, sometimes happiness, sometimes anger.

Now you felt pathetic, for not having a pair and having been made second choice, a mixture of sadness and upset formed the tears in the corner of your eyes.

You leaned on the stone wall, your hands covering your eyes to prevent more tears from falling.

the sound of you back on the stone wall catches Matthew attention, he looks back and would not have noticed that you were crying if not for the hand in your eyes, you sobbed silently.

He lets the cigarette smoke out of his mouth still holding it between his lips if he mentally asks if he should ask you what was happening or should sneak out while you hadn’t noticed his presence.

He analyzes your whole body, from the white Maryjane on your feet to the jewelry you wore on your neck, before sighing softly and taking the cigarette out of his mouth, his night was so boring that he needed a distraction.

Matthew also did not have a prom date, but not for lack of choice, nor would he come to this dance considered ridiculous in his vision, refused one or two dates saying that he would not attend, unfortunately, Lorenzo, one of his best friends, convinced him to stay at least a few minutes before disappearing with his escort, Matthew tired of being alone decided to go out to smoke without being caught by some of the teachers, he planned to finish and climb back to his dorm.

His plans were ruined.

You feel the smell of cigarettes and the presence next to you and take your hand out of your eyes to look at Matthew next to you, your cheeks red by crying, and now the shame of being caught crying, matching with the tip of your nose also reddish and your eyes glowing with tears.

He looks at you and then realizes why your dress is white, was to match your angelic appearance, he notes mentally to thank Lorenzo later for forcing him to come.

"hi." he whispers with a neutral expression, not so serious but also not smiling.

"Hi?" you whisper, yet come out as a question.

You wipe the corner of your eyes, looking elsewhere than him, still ashamed of being caught crying over something so silly.

"Why aren’t you at the prom?" he asks as if you’re not crying, without asking your name as if you already know each other.

Uncertain of what to say, because you did not want to open up to a stranger, especially when the unknown was the son of the frightening professor of potions, Tom Riddle.

"I... found it boring." you whisper shyly, your hands playing with the heart pendant of your necklace.

"so boring that it made you want to cry? what a coincidence, me too, I just wiped my tears." he says with a serious tone but visibly joking.

You let out a giggle realizing that he took your lie, forgetting what had just happened.

"All right, it’s just a silly motive."

"Will you tell me you don’t have someone to dance with?" he asks with a giggle as if he’s joking.

"I haven’t." Your smile falls and you look at your own feet.

He tilts his head to look at your face, not believing that someone so beautiful and dressed so well is crying for not having someone to dance with.

"you’re lying."

"I’m not." you whisper uncertainly and he giggles out of disbelief.

After a few seconds in silence, he puts the cigarette in his mouth again, and from a puff, you watch as he releases the smoke between his lips and takes the cigarette out of his mouth again.

The cold began to bother you, your hands rose and your arms crossed above your chest in search of heat, he notices and comes a little closer, not so much not to scare you.

"Was it someone who made you cry?" he asks quietly, alternating between looking at you and the cigarette on his fingers.

"yes."

"your boyfriend?"

"No." you reply, feeling foolish again, for crying over a boy who isn’t even your boyfriend. "It’s silly."

He stares at you as he leans his head against a stone wall, your eyes still sparkling from tears as you look at your shoe, he notes that the tears lightly blurred your mascara.

He lifts his fingers to the tip of your eyes and passes his thumb over the stain carefully, you look at him uncertain with the proximity, your cheeks turning pink again, and he smiles noticing you blushing with the touch.

"was stained" he clarifies

"with mascara?" he nods agreeing, the cold starting to bother him too.

"Don’t you want to come in? It’s getting cold in here, and you’re out of coat." He whispers, putting his cigarette out on the wall behind him, before throwing it on the floor, wet from the rain earlier.

"I think I’ll go back to my dorm." you whisper letting your hands slip to the side of your body.

"Oh no you can’t leave," he says quickly, thinking of some reason to make you stay, not knowing that you didn’t need much because you hadn’t yet learned to say no, as much as it was someone unknown.

"I can’t?" you ask confused

"No... because... I wanted you to dance with me." he says at once without thinking, dancing? he didn’t dance, what had gone through his head?

His voice comes out neutral but he curses himself mentally, he did not want you to leave but he also did not want to dance.

"Do you want to dance with me?" you blush and suppress a smirk, he sighs without knowing how to answer.

"Yes." No, he doesn’t.

you smile with the words that come out of his lips.

Ok, maybe he wants, just a little.

"Okay." you smile shyly, looking at him slightly flushed, he looks between your glossy lips and your eyes shining.

He accompanies you to the Great hall again, making silly comments to keep you distracted, you thank him mentally.

"I don’t have a pair either, nor is it that bad right?" he says as you arrive.

"not much" you respond softly

a song ends when you arrive, and one of your favorite songs starts playing.

You take a deep breath and your smile increases, you start to think that the universe was trying to make you sad just to make you happy again.

Matthew has his hand on your waist while guiding you to the center of the Great Hall, which did not have as many couples as before, Fade Into You played in the background while the lights changed to a dark blue tone.

Your chests were glued and you were smaller than him, he can smell the floral smell of your shampoo, and then he takes a deep breath discreetly to feel it better.

You look up at him shyly, not knowing what to say to end the silence.

I wanna hold the hand Inside you

you whisper something quietly to him

I wanna take the breath thats true

"Sorry, I didn’t catch that" he whispers so just you can hear and bends down a little to hear you better, your bodies still dancing in sync truly perfect.

I look to you and i see nothing

you stand on tiptoe, your hand on his shoulder as you say in his ear "Thank you" It is still low but he could hear why you said it in his ear this time.

i look to you to see the truth

He had no idea what you were thanking him for, and neither did you.

You live your life, you go in shadows

"oh no, I should thank you." He whispers back to you, he talks louder, and he doesn’t have to say it in your ear, but he does it anyway.

You’ll come apart and you'll go blind

you shiver with his hoarse voice in your ear as he smiles at your reaction, realizing that maybe he likes to see you blush, even if the blue light is in the way.

Some kind of night into your darkness

he leaves a kiss on your neck next to your ear before he looks up again, his action making your heart race, you had never received this much attention from some boy.

Colors your eyes with what is not there

you smile shyly and he reciprocates before looking up around, you lower your head, and lean on his shoulder, while your bodies dance slowly, his hand that was previously intertwined with yours loose and goes down to your waist, his hand that was once intertwined with yours loose and descends to your waist, his arms hold you there, on his chest, your own hands follow his movements and climb to his neck, the silence began to get comfortable.

Fade into you

Stranger, you never knew

Fade into you

#mattheo riddle #slytherpuff #slytherin x hufflepuff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #harry potter #matthew riddle

2K notes · View notes

onceuponastory · 1 year

Text

passion - danceteacher!bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Since she and Bucky first made a connection, Y/N has been excitedly counting down the days until she’s back in his class and can finally tell him the truth about how she feels. Unfortunately, Bucky has other ideas... Pairing: Dance Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Some angst, anxiety, and like the tinieeest hint of possessive Bucky. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is part two of my Dance Teacher Bucky AU Chemistry, which you can read here if you haven’t already! Sorry it took me forever to write this second part, but I hope you like it!

Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Since the night she and Bucky almost kissed, Y/N has been eagerly counting down the days until their next class. Until she can see the dance teacher whose gaze has bewitched her from the moment she first met him. She still remembers the feeling of their bodies pressed up against each other, skin on skin, feeling his hot breath on hers, and his hands holding her closely, hoping they’d wander even lower. Still pictures his head tilting as he leans closer towards her, ready to press his lips to hers. His final words have stuck in her mind ever since then.

“Would you like to-”

What could he have wanted? She can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was going to ask her if she wanted to see him after class, or to continue their kiss. Maybe he would ask her on a date. Honestly, that’s all she wants. To be with him again and to call him her own. The week passes by slower than she wants, but soon, she’s back in class. When Bucky’s voice fills the room once more, Y/N can’t stop a smile from spreading across her cheeks.

“Good evening everyone. It’s very nice to see you all again.” Bucky’s gaze falls on her once more, the silvery blue eyes she loves so much tracing over every part of her body. Her breath hitches in her throat and her stomach flutters. Bucky opens his mouth, and for a moment, Y/N expects Bucky to say something, or to even pick her for a dance again. But Bucky looks away almost immediately and moves along without another word. As Y/N watches him go, her posture slumps a little in disappointment, and she tries not to let her face fall along with it. As the butterflies in her stomach drop, she can feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming. Of course, she knows that she and Bucky can’t kiss each other in the middle of class, or to be his favourite student, but he at least used to look at her for more than a second, even before they almost kissed. As Bucky announces a group activity, she keeps her gaze on him, just in case he sneaks another glance her way. When that doesn’t come, her anxiety grows, despite her attempts to rationalise things.

And as the class continues, things don’t get much better. Bucky still seems to ignore her, at least more than he usually does. And with that, Y/N’s anxiety continues to grow. Still, she keeps a brave front, hoping the one thing she dreads isn’t true. When the class finishes, Y/N waits behind, hoping that he will speak to her again, and that he was just pretending to ignore her by masking his true desire for her. Because the alternative is so much worse. Because the alternative is so much worse. That Bucky really doesn’t want her after all, and that the one person she wants most, the one person who she thinks can heal her heart after her heartbreak...will reject her.

“Bucky? Can I speak to you, please?” She hates how shaky and anxious her voice sounds, how easily she could fall apart depending on what Bucky says. Bucky looks up, running a hand through his brunette hair. All she wants is for him to say something, anything. Hell, even recognition. Recognition that they have something together, and that something is real.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He sighs, checking his watch. “I have to go to a meeting. I’ll see you next week, alright?”

“Wait, it was just-” However, before she can finish her sentence, Bucky murmurs another:

“I’m sorry.” His blue eyes give her one last look over, and then he’s gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

And for the next few classes, that’s how things continue to go. Y/N shows up every week, hoping for something new. For Bucky to treat her with the same passion and desire he showed her the first time they met, rather than just keeping an icy blue gaze fixed on her, or barely acknowledging her existence. Yet, he never does. Aside from a few brief glances her way, she might as well not exist to Bucky. So every week, her hope of her and Bucky continuing where they left off continues to fade. And with it, so does her desire to keep coming back to the class. Even thinking of leaving tears her up inside. She loves the class, and seeing Bucky each week. Honestly, she loves him so much that she can barely stand it sometimes. Yet, there’s only so much disappointment and ignorance someone can take before it feels like their soul is being destroyed. And at this rate, Y/N’s surprised hers has lasted this long.

One week, one that feels a lifetime away from when Bucky took her in his arms, Y/N’s pain is so bad that she skips the class. She just can’t put herself through that turmoil and heartbreak again. Besides, her mind is reminding her of her blue-eyed dance teacher enough to last for one week without seeing him in person. It’s only then that Y/N realises how much she looks forward to seeing Bucky each week, and how being without him for even one week is breaking her heart. For practically the entire week, Y/N shuts herself away in her apartment, feeling sorry for herself and regretting her decision.

It’s funny, in a way. She first met Bucky after being dumped and spending all her time shut away in her room. And now, here she is, doing the same thing over him. But somehow, this time, it’s even worse.

One day, fed up with being holed up in her room for hours on end, Y/N takes a moment to step out and get some fresh air. Hopefully, a walk will do her good. Yet, as before, all her thoughts turn back to Bucky. It’s almost Thursday, the day of his dance class. And it means Y/N has to make a choice. Will she go back to Bucky, hoping her absence has somehow caused a change of heart, that the second she walks through the door, he’ll drop everything and kiss her, for real this time. At least, that’s how things work in fairytales. But this isn’t a fairytale. It’s only then that Y/N realises she’s outside a local coffee shop, and so she heads inside. Maybe some caffeine will help soothe her soul. As she orders her drink, a voice sounds from behind her. One that makes her stomach lurch.

“Y/N? Is that you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” Her ex. The same one who broke her heart many moons ago, and made her spend almost an eternity in her room. The one she never wanted to see again. And now he’s right behind her. What a shitty week this is turning out to be. Although, maybe she should be a bit more grateful towards him. Because without him, she would never have met Bucky. Grimacing, she turns around.

“Hey….” she murmurs, plastering a fake smile on.

“How have you been?” Y/N groans. Now she has to make up some kind of story so that he thinks she’s been doing really well since the breakup, rather than being holed up in her room yet again. Unfortunately for her, though, before she can even say a word, another voice calls:

“There you are!” A girl walks up to them both, slinging her arm around her ex’s shoulders and kissing him on the cheek. Noticing Y/N, she looks her up and down, frowning. “Who’s this?” However, their words fade to static as Y/N’s heart sinks.

He’s already moved on. Of course, she’s not exactly running back to be with him, but even he could move on. And she’s still stuck here pining over him and over Bucky. Immediately, all the growth she may have had immediately breaks down, and Y/N’s back at square one as she’s reminded of just how alone she truly is. Oh god, they’re staring at her. She needs to say something, anything. Yet all she wants is to run away and cry.

Thankfully, though, a saving moment soon arrives. “Latte for Y/N?”

Hurriedly, Y/N grabs her drink, murmurs something resembling an apology and leaves the shop. She starts walking, not having any idea where she’s going, only knowing she has to get as far away from them as possible. As she walks, her head races with thoughts once more. The same thoughts she’s been trying to ignore, but are now louder than ever. The ones telling her that Bucky doesn’t love her, and she’ll be alone forever.

After walking for a while, Y/N stops, taking a breather to collect herself and calm down. And so she can actually see where she is after storming off. She looks around, and when she realises where she is, she wishes she’d never asked. The dance studio is right in front of her. Bucky’s dance studio. The place she considered never going to again. And she came back without even thinking about it. Well, everyone always says the heart wants what it wants. Maybe it knows what she needs: to see Bucky, the one person she loves and to talk through everything, even despite everything that’s happened.

As if on autopilot, Y/N walks inside. She looks around for Bucky, only finding other teachers and empty rooms. Frustrated, she steps inside one of the free rooms, sinking down to the floor. Now what? Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have come here at all. Though, just as she’s about to leave, though, the door opens.

“Y/N.” She hears a familiar voice. Bucky. Her heart almost stops. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I missed you at class last week.” He chuckles. Despite her relief at being missed, and how she literally came here just to see him, she’s still too conflicted by this entire situation to even know what to say. All she can do is stare at him. “Good for you, though, for getting in some practice.”

“Mhm.” Bucky’s eyebrows raise slightly at her curt reply, but he brushes it off.

“So. I was actually coming in here to finish up my tutorial before class, but if you’d like, I could give you a…private lesson.” He offers, coming to stand in front of her. Y/N looks up, her eyes running over every inch of Bucky’s incredibly tall, muscular body. Immediately, Y/N feels herself blushing as some of her anger melts away. Fuck, he’s so attractive…so tempting.

But then, she remembers how she felt when they almost kissed, and how confused she is by how much he’s ignoring her and refusing to talk to her, yet still keeping his gaze transfixed on her. That’s enough to make her purse her lips and look down, away from Bucky. “Are you alright Y/N? You seem off.” Y/N’s jaw clenches. There’s no way he can be this ignorant about how he’s making her feel. This has to be some sort of joke. Maybe he’s just teasing her, dangling his attention in front of her to see if she takes the bait. Perhaps it’s something to do with the chemistry he keeps going on about. “You seem annoyed.” Bucky continues. She can feel Bucky’s presence as he gets even closer to her, and as the ever so familiar scent of his cologne enters her nostrils once more. It permeates her entire being. Her breath hitches in her throat. God, she’s got it bad. Which makes this situation even worse. Simultaneously, she wants to run to him and to run away from him. Her fist clenches. Why can’t this be over? “You know, this anger is good. You can use it in your dancing, and-”

“No! I don’t want to dance to let out my feelings!” Y/N snaps. “Fuck Bucky, why is dancing all you think about? Nobody is allowed to be angry or upset around you. Their feelings always have to be used in a dance. Well, I’ve had enough!” Y/N pushes herself up, standing face to face with Bucky. The entirety of her anger and pain from the past few weeks reaches a breaking point, ready to be released. “Yeah, I’m pissed off. Want to know why?” When Bucky opens his mouth, she holds up his finger, stopping him. “No. I’m not dancing. I want to talk to you like a normal human does. Is that okay?” She doesn’t even wait for Bucky to reply before continuing her rant. “Why have you been ignoring me since we almost kissed? You keep staring at me when you talk about your ‘chemistry’, stringing me along and making me think you give a shit or that you might actually like me. But when I try to talk to you, you act like I don’t exist and I’m tired of it. Is that all I am, Bucky? Am I just someone for you to use to build your chemistry?” Bucky’s face falls, his blue eyes darkening once more.

“Y/N-” Yet still, Y/N continues.

“If that wasn’t bad enough, I saw my ex and his new girlfriend today, and they were all happy and loved up, which made me feel even worse, and even more conflicted. God, Bucky, I like you, okay? A lot. And I just want to know what the fuck is going on! Do you want me or not? Because if you don’t, I’m going to go. I’ll leave your class, and you’ll never see me again. I refuse to go through this for the rest of my time here, waiting and hoping that today will be the day you actually speak to me.” Y/N pants angrily, trying to calm herself down whilst Bucky just stares at her. His lack of response makes her even angrier and tells her everything she needs to know. “What? You’re not even going to say something?” Even so, she waits, letting Bucky have the chance to speak. Although it feels like she’s just dragging out the inevitable. And the room is so silent you could hear a pin drop. “Fine.” She huffs, feeling defeated. “Goodbye Bucky.”

As she walks past him to go, he gently takes her arm, pulling her closer. Just like he did when they danced together, when they shared such a strong connection that it almost drove her crazy.

“You want an explanation? I’ll give you one.” Y/N’s heart rate picks up. “Y/N, I’ve been attracted to you from the first moment you stepped foot into my class. I kept my distance at first, because I didn’t want to come on too strong, but the more I saw you, the more I wanted you. You’re so gorgeous, and you dance beautifully.”

“So you-” she begins, but now it’s Bucky’s turn to interrupt her.

“I wasn’t finished.” He whispers, his voice low and husky again. Blushing, Y/N nods. “When I saw you with Brock, I got jealous, so I knew I had to dance with you and show him you’re mine. And of course, things only got more intense from there. When we almost kissed, things were great…until I saw you leaving and I realised that maybe things between us might not work out. Maybe it isn’t chemistry that we have, maybe it’s just passion or lust. So, the reason I’ve been so standoffish is that I took some time to think through my feelings before committing.” Y/N furrows her brows, and Bucky sighs. “I’m sorry Y/N, but it was the only way I could think of figuring things out without hurting you. Of course, I understand now that was the wrong way to do it, because I did hurt you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Y/N doesn’t even know what to say, too confused from having such a big explanation so suddenly. “And you know the funny part? Being so standoffish didn’t help one bit. I’m still hopelessly in love with you.” Y/N’s mouth drops open. Those are the words she’s wanted to hear for weeks. And now she’s heard them, she doesn’t even know what to say. “If you want to leave, I understand.” Bucky runs his finger down her jawline, and Y/N shudders. Her gaze goes lower, tracing down the v neckline of Bucky’s shirt. At the buttons still clinging to his shirt. The ones she just wants to rip open.

“Even if it was just lust or passion…would that be so bad?” She murmurs. Before Bucky can say anything more, Y/N steps forward, closing the gap between them both in a kiss. Bucky lets out a moan, and his arm wraps around her. Their bodies press together, so close she can feel his heart beating rhythmically along with hers as the kiss deepens. She parts her lips, and Bucky slips his tongue in. Her hands go to his chest again, running down his shirt. As she begins to unbutton his shirt, Bucky murmurs:

“No…not here. Not yet. Later.” She agrees, moving her hands back up and running her fingers through his hair. “Still wanna leave?” He whispers as they pull apart. Y/N shakes her head. His breath feels like fire on her skin, and she shudders, breathing in sharply.

“No.” she whispers, pulling him in for another kiss. “Not at all.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dance teacher!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

185 notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 8 months

Note

Hi!! Loving dad! gojo :)

I love ballet and I love gojo, so could you do gojo bringing his cute little daughter to ballet class please?

twirl — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: hehe I am so happy dad!gojo is getting some love; hope you enjoy

“you got your water bottle?”

“mhm!”

“your shoes?”

“yup!”

“did you give mommy a kiss?”

“yeah!”

“good girl; now, do a twirl.”

she excitedly does as told and squeals in happiness when satoru picks her up and spins her around, “that’s my pretty little princess!”

he gently puts her down and she holds his index finger. he blows you a kiss then bends to tell her, “say bye to mommy.”

“bye, mommy! I love you!”

you chuckle, “I love you too, sweetie! have fun!”

and so satoru embarks on a journey to d/n’s ballet class.

the car ride is full of d/n’s favorite songs accompanied by her dad’s horrible singing that she somehow likes.

when he gets there, he notices that he is the only dad there, save for two other cool dads.

the mothers are also completely enamored by satoru, and while another time he would boast in the attention, his priority right now is his daughter, his daughter that looks very scared and nervous.

he sits on the ground so he is at eye level with her, “what’s up, pretty?”

she pads her way into his arms, and he instantly embraces her. he gently pats her back, and the last thing on his mind is how uncomfortable the position is for him. her little hands clutch his shirt, “what if I do bad?”

“I know you will do amazing,” he grins and squishes her cheeks, “and even if you do, mistakes are okay, and most importantly, daddy’s always here to save the day!”

d/n nods with a small smile. she gives him a tight hug, before she pulls back and starts fidgeting with her fingers. she looks up to him with matching azure eyes, “can you dance with me?”

he abruptly stands up then points at a small boy, “get me a tutu!”

and that’s how you found your husband killing it with d/n on her ballet class.

they did have to put him further away from the kids because of his gigantic legs, but he is still having the time of his life. d/n is also very entertained with her dad and is trying to copy his every move, completely forgetting about the ballet teacher.

the mothers are also very amused by the act, with some nudging their husbands to do the same. little do they know that satoru is unmatched in whatever he tries, especially when he is trying to impress his little princess.

she starts squealing and jumping in place, “daddy, you’re so cool!”

he spins around before stopping to peck her cheek, “thank you, cutie!”

“satoru, what are you—?”

“wifey!” he screams before launching at you and pulling you into one big bear hug. of course, satoru is a show-off, and he likes to make a statement. that’s why he dips you and kisses you in front of everyone in the room. he pulls you back up, chuckling at your shocked expression.

“mommy! mommy!” she dashes to you and hugs your leg. she then quickly looks at satoru, tugging on his pants, “daddy!” she points at her cheek, “kiss, please!”

he swiftly picks her up and starts peppering her face with kisses and you watch with a warm smile. after he is done with his ambush, he sets her down with another hug. she looks a lot more confident and is willing to go on and try again by herself.

satoru is about to declare his mission successful, but someone rudely interrupts his victory dance.

a boy shyly makes his way towards d/n, who is right beside satoru. the boy looks at the ground, a pink hue coating his cheeks. he starts to murmur softly, “um, h—hi; I am—“

satoru crouches on the ground and stares at the boy. the kid is clutching a freaking rose. your husband’s dad instincts go off and he turns the boy around and lightly pushes him away, “go play with your friends, buddy.”

the boy turns back to satoru, but, this time, he is frowning at the man, “I wanna give d/n a flower!”

“well, I am here to do that, so you can go away,” satoru stands up proudly, “and! I give her flowers, not just one!”

the boy’s frown deepens and he turns to his friends and whistles for them to come over. quickly, a gang of 6 year old boys are at satoru’s feet. the boy points at satoru, “this man won’t let me give d/n a flower…attack!”

and because your husband’s petty like that, he keeps his infinity on and doesn’t flinch in the slightest. the kids keep trying to punch and kick him, but he doesn’t falter. he grins smugly at you, and you merely roll your eyes with a smile.

meanwhile, d/n already went to continue her class like nothing is happening.

you have no idea how the parents or ballet teacher are letting these kids ‘gang up’ on your husband, but you guess that everyone wants some entertainment every once in a while. plus, most of the kids got tired and ditched the ambush anyway.

now, no one is left but the flower boy.

the poor kid is panting and struggling as he looks up at the smug man. satoru smiles at you, turning off his infinity, “see, babe? told ya nothing can—“

the little boy has kicked your husband’s shin, harshly too. he huffs, holding back tears, “you’re a meanie!” he runs away to his mom, leaving satoru to hold his leg in pain.

you frown sympathetically at the boy, “satoru, you made him cry.”

“well, you’re going to make me cry with how little you care about how I am in pain right now!”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#jjk x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x you

4K notes · View notes

baeshijima · 11 months

Text

— hsr men in a royalty au

INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader

A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.

genshin ver.

imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?

there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.

jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.

(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)

despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before…

for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.

dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.

(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)

royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.

the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.

it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more… intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.

(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)

with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.

being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.

there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.

(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)

thinking about duke!blade, whose… less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.

the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.

he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.

(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)

amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem… off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.

there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.

sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.

(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you… removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

5K notes · View notes