dance, dance - markiplier imagine
markiplier x ballerina!reader
For a ballerina, Y/N was horribly clumsy. It was almost comical, watching someone like her prance around onstage like a lopsided deer. She could never get the steps completely right, there was always little things that were off about her performances, but she truly loved dancing. It was one of the only things that made her happy, despite how foolish she looked.
In her velvet unitard, hair tied back neatly, she looked elegant, like she knew what she was doing. After all, she had been dancing her whole life, since she was a mere three years old. Her makeup was done neatly, her nails filed down to perfection for the dance she was about to do.
Very distantly, she heard Christmas music playing. Carol of the Bells, that was the song she would be dancing to. To her left, the silhouettes of fellow dancers that aside from skin color, looked just like she did. Prim and prose, looking like graceful dolls as they silently waited for their cue.
Y/N barely heard the music, it sounded muffled, like it wasn’t even there. She was trying to find someone in the crowd, the only person who always told her that she was an amazing dancer. The person who went to these concerts even when her own parents didn’t.
Mark Fischbach was the love of Y/N’s life. With the charm of the most unimaginable prince, a heart of gold, and a mind that held things that she could only hope to comprehend. He was her rock, the person that made her happiest in this world, and he never missed a recital.
But today, she didn’t see him.
The audience could see the sadness that plagued her face, through the forced smile and heavy makeup. She looked utterly wrecked, tearing up through a fast-paced song that she considered the be one of her favorites. This was supposed to be the most successful recital, the last one of the year, and he wasn’t here.
They had been dating for five years now since they first met in freshman year of high school. As Mark was working in college for a degree in engineering, she was busy working two jobs to pay for both their studio apartment and to continue the dance lessons. It wasn’t an easy life, but they were always there for each other.
On days before Mark had a test, she would wake up before him to prepare a breakfast, lay out his clothes for the day. As soon as he returned, there would be dinner out on the table and his smiling girlfriend waiting for him.
If she had a hard day at work, he would stay by her the entire night until she fell asleep. He would make her tea, or sing to her, whatever she wanted that would make her happy. He was always there for her, just as she was always there for him.
It wasn’t like she was angry at him for missing this one recital, but it was disheartening. She usually was her happiest while dancing but now she was aware of all of her mistakes. Y/N felt her face growing hot as she missed the beat, as she was still dancing while all the others stopped, as she nearly fell while bowing at the end.
She could hardly function while she collected her things to leave, tears filling up in her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Mascara smeared and face bright red with embarrassment, she ran home. There was no use in calling an uber when she looked as terrible as she did now.
Mark’s car was there, of course, he was home.
If it wasn’t so cold, she wouldn’t have gone inside, but she managed to trudge through the door. There he was on the couch, sleeping, with a half-full bowl of popcorn on his lap.
As she slammed the door shut, he awoke with a start.
“Babe, hey!” he yawned, blinking a couple times to take in his surroundings. His heart fell to his stomach when he saw her, tears trailing down her face, with her dance uniform on, “oh no...”
“You didn’t come,” she managed, voice crackling.
“Y/N, I thought it was tomorrow. I’m so sorry,” Mark rushed to her side but she flinched away, “I didn’t know your recital was today. I’ve been waiting for you to get home, sweetie I’m so sorry.”
“I told you this morning!” Y/N snapped, “I’ve been reminding you every day for weeks! You didn’t even call me when I wasn’t home on time because you didn’t care!”
Mark’s caring demeanor was gone, replaced with the face of a furious man, “are you really accusing me of not caring? This is the one recital that I’ve missed in literal years!”
“So why start now? You knew how much this meant to me!” she wasn’t crying anymore, just pouring out all of her anger. Every bit of frustration she had ever felt about having to work two jobs, about how shitty she was at dancing, about how she never saw Mark anymore.
“Well, I’m sorry that I was tired, Y/N. Do you really think it’s easy, working my ass off every day so maybe eventually we can have a better future?” Mark huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His growing headache was getting worse and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Oh, you have it difficult? Try working two jobs every day, with multiple shifts, just so your boyfriend can go to college. Try pursuing your dream even though everyone treats you like garbage because you aren’t the best at it. Try never seeing your boyfriend without having to make sure a monumental effort. I ask for one thing, Mark. One. It’s that you go to those recitals,” Y/N’s voice had grown eerily calm. It wasn’t raised any longer, and it was the scariest thing for Mark to hear. He knew he was beaten.
“Are you really?” she muttered.
Mark walked closer to her, settling his hands around her waist and pulling her against his chest. She laid her head there for a while, breathing in deeply the safe smell of his old t-shirt. After a while, she was wearing it, changed out of her uncomfortable unitard.
He was laying on the couch, now shirtless, but still cradling his girlfriend to his chest.
“I’m sorry that I got so upset. I know it’s hard for you, too,” Y/N whispered.
“It’s okay, I accept your apology. You’re worked up, and I’m here for you. You mean the world to me, little ballerina.”
