#season 1 he looked liked he had so much fun with the event | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesummerpetrichor · 4 months ago

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𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her.

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered.

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler.

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs.

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night.

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that.

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you.

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing.

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay.

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move.

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below.

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud.

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home.

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city.

—

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement.

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block.

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia.

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town.

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about.

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home.

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for.

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders.

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona.

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet.

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers.

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family.

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper.

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him.

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation.

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for.

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do.

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them.

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband.

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place.

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day.

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for?

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s.

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did.

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible.

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast.

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer.

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress.

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on.

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron.

It was over.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest. He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke.

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around?

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier.

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away.

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again.

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside.

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window.

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face.

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window.

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head.

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future.

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily,

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?”

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together.

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with.

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future.

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway.

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation.

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come. It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you.

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans.

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out.

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you.

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves– it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .”

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice.

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin.

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before.

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car.

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind.

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric.

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development.

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance.

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt.

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs.

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits.

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic.

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either.

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…”

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?”

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs.

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy. “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?”

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness.

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.”

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again.

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust.

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again.

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace.

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat.

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back.

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit.

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?”

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity.

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy.

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark.

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance.

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling.

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different.

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body.

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut.

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were.

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.” his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity.

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head.

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation.

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts.

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs.

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point.

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?”

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you.

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out.

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat.

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all.

“Okay.. yeah..” The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don’t do this shit again.”

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently.

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.”

—

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

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saradika · 8 months ago

Text

— invisible string

din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader

rated e - 1.7k

tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements

a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You feel as if you are always out of step.

Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.

As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.

As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.

You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.

But you're not sure what to do with this.

The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.

Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.

The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.

After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.

To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.

Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.

Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.

It’s not your problem.

Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.

You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.

There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.

Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.

It’s nice.

It follows you, back to your room.

You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.

Somehow you know it’s out there.

But it's not time.

The next day, your ship takes off again.

There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.

Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.

It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.

You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.

There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.

But you still go out, day after day.

It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.

It should frighten you… but it doesn't.

It feels like an inevitability.

Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.

"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.

And it's him.

There's something about him, this man.

You're not sure what that something is...

But think you are finally ready to find out.

His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.

You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.

Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.

For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.

You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?

And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.

An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.

Had grieved with him, after.

You think this had been your place all along.

This liminal space, in those months that follow.

Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.

It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.

But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.

He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.

Before it’s just him and you.

His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.

You think he did. He does.

And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.

Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.

The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.

“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”

He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.

Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.

Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.

To leave you, again.

But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.

And in the dark - he stays.

“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”

His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.

Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.

But you had left early, and he had came late.

“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.

“Yes.”

It is enough, for now.

You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.

Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…

You think that he would feel it, too.

thanks so much for reading!! 💖

cyare - beloved

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #ts drabble challenge #din djarin imagine

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sleepiestslooth · 2 years ago

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this is me just speculating based off seeing him act in mcc (as of season 2 specifically) and what people have said about him but he was so caught up in the competition aspect of the event that he never really tried having fun with it like a lot of other people did; he got so in his head and wanted to be the best he could be at every game that he never seemed to sit back and relax and just play the game

with things like funneling every time he was in dodgebolt because he believed he was better at making the shots than his other teammates so they could secure wins even in non canon events like pride mcc where it didn’t even count to his individual mcc score

i’ve been sour towards dreams behavior in mcc longer than i’ve disliked him for the things he’s done; honestly without him in the event maybe finally mcc will feel like a fun event again and not just “oh [thing] was biased against dream let’s attack scott and noxcrew because clearly they have a bias against him specifically”. that shit was mega exhausting to deal with on twitter and it came directly from his fanbase so this is a good thing in more ways than one to me because it also gets rid of the absolutely needless drama after almost every event

NO MORE DREAM IN MCC WHO CHEERED

#text post rb #slooth rambles #groaning into my hands oh my god we’re free #this makes me a little sad honestly because he wasn’t always like this!#season 1 he looked liked he had so much fun with the event #but when season 2 came and the much larger fanbase tagged along everything just turned sour #i don’t know what caused this change in his competitiveness but it wasn’t a good one #again this is speculation on his behavior

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sherbertquake56 · 7 days ago

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okay I’m dropping some of my fable arcane au thoughts before the new episodes drop tomorrow even tho most of it is based on season 1 anyway—

so some basic taggings for you that I based the AU around:

1. Icarus as Jinx.

powder vs jinx is just the sherbert vs icarus name thing. toxic father. unhealthy relationship with sibling. a lil crazy and maybe evil. thinks that they are at fault for the things around them. lil bombs? nah- little SPLASH potions. hearing and seeing mylo and claggor? it’s Haley- it’s literally Haley—

2. Fable as Silco.

okay fable’s design WAS partially inspired by silco— they literally look the same— they’re both a man with two priorities: take over and make his own nation & care for child.

you know the ending scene of season 1? where they’re sitting at the table? THAT. With Jinx assuming that he’s gonna give her up to topside and him getting the first chance to talk and saying “her name is JINX!” i could write an essay on that for icarus. they’re so toxic and it’s so perfect. also that scene at the start of s2 ep2? YEAH THAT—

3. Centross as Ekko

This one is controversial and up to debate but i will die on this hill— SO THE S1 BRIDGE FIGHT. I am so willing to put aside any possible prison duo gay-ness in this AU for that rivalry/fight. they were friends!!! they were so good!! and now they wanna KILL EACH OTHER!! it’s great.

It’s also specifically thinking of Ekko’s tree home as solstice— older Ekko very much has the vibe of Violet specifically-

4. Arisanna as Sevika

I DONT KNOW WHY BUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME. It’s specifically vexed Ari during the coworkers era but idk it just feels right— I look at her relationship with Silco and Jinx and go ‘hmmm this could be something’

[I will also say there is an argument here for swapping Centross and Ari tho— big tree city as Ari rebuilding the records goes hard, and angsty fighty toxic with jinx centross is also good— it’s like 50/50 for me]

5. Isla as Vander

LET ISLA BE A BADASS IN THIS AU. SHE DESERVES IT— something something raising vi and powder alone, something something the backstory with silco— there’s something there and it hits really hard in scenes where vi sees vander and helps her get back up— also I look at jinx and vander and I go “mmmm this is in fact how icarus sees Isla”

6. Rae as Vi

This was obvious given the above but LISTEN— in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF EVENTS I think it would be fun- do I think that vi perfectly fits canon rae? no. But in this world it would KICK ASS. rae deserves to beat some people up— got kicked out of the overworld (zaun) by fable (silco) and had to go to the end (piltover) to get away from him?? rae end prince aus are already here so why not end rae also punching people huh??? also. gay people.

———

Okay— here’s where I need some help, thoughts, and opinions from you all…

1. Caitlyn.

POLYAMORY IS HARD TO TAG AND I DONT KNOW WHO FITS BEST?? For me, season 1 Caitlyn fits best as Caspian, but season 2 Caitlyn is more for Fenris— so I’m very stuck. yes absolutely give thoughts on this please—

2. Viktor as Aax (but how does that work)

Viktor absolutely should be Aax— mr. Scientist / lab experiment / turned religious figure vessel for god is CORRECT. But honestly the rest of Piltover gang is really hard with Rae as Vi— Jayce/Viktor/Mel is yelling at me to be the polycule but aGH— ya know??? very stuck on this so I instead look at the coworkers and go “mm good yes—”

Random other tags I think also make sense:

- Ulysses as that Telchin looking mf Stev— mans took out one lil medical device as his fish self and I said YUP

- The hexcore big orb thing underground as Quixis— big white glitch orb room make things go wack. couldn’t be easier than that.

———

Anyways that’s all— I’ve been rotating this in my mind for like a week and have had way too many thoughts about it thank you for your time—

#this was so long and I’m not even mad #it goes hard #season 1 specifically works so well #fable smp #arcane #fablesmp arcane au #icarus morningstar

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uno-san · 3 months ago

Note

Can i request a continuation of your first fic? Stan eventually admitting the Mr. Mystery who sent the flowers wasn’t a secret admirer but infact Mr. Mystery himself?

First of all, I am so honored to have a request for a continuation! Truly one of the highest compliments. And reading back on comments before, I should have made a second part long ago! I had so much fun writing this and thanks to all who have read my work. Part 1 can be found here. There's a small recap written in this part though so reading it isn't required :) Enjoy! Mr. Pines, Part 2 (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Nearing the end of summer was always a melancholic event. In which the busiest season of the year would descend back down to hell and allow the workload to dwindle off to a manageable amount at the Mystery Shack yet leave you with a sense of grief at another amazing summer gone. It wasn’t like that before.

Ever since becoming a full-fledged adult with a life and responsibilities, the seasons and months had a way of blending together as one week after the next you were simply looking forward to the next paycheck. It was torture. Arguably not a way of living at all.

Keyword being before.

Sure, you could do without the new occupational hazard of being killed by a mecha-suit made out of feral gnomes, mind-wiping cultists, and God knows what else. Yet despite all the life-threatening danger, you’ve never been more alive! Everyday holds the potential for a new adventure and memories to make with the friends that you never thought you had.

That was the sadness about summer ending, however. Soos would remain at the shack but your other dependable co-worker, Wendy, would be off focusing on school. The same for Dipper and Mabel, who would leave Gravity Falls and Mr. Pines- Ah.

Stanley.

You were in the middle of sweeping the trampled wood floors of the Mystery Shack when the name made you stop in your tracks. It always did. Worse yet, it’d have you chew the inside of your cheek to stop them from heating up. It made you feel juvenile. Quickly your eyes swept across the shop and back as if you chanted his name three times. When there was no puff of smoke you let out a sigh of relief.

It was the start of summer where your more challenging trails began. That being Stanley Pines, the older man who was the owner of the Mystery Shack and your boss, who had given you permission to call him by his first name. Having done so, naturally, on a day where a secret admirer, or, ‘Mr. Mystery’ (Whom Stanley says he’ll sue for stealing his title) sent you a beautiful arrangement of flowers. God, you can still remember what a pain it was to lug the large vase back home. It was a wonder how Wendy was able to do it all herself without having a car to help.

To add to the confusion already surrounding that day when Stan hadn’t confessed to being the culprit, you were disappointed. Your shoulders slumped when Wendy had reasoned it had to be someone else. Instead of wanting to know who this secret admirer was you were instead interested in knowing when in the hell you developed a crush on the graying con man that was your boss. Not that there were tons of eligible bachelors in Gravity Falls but then they’d be in your age range! Or ones with no criminal record, strong arms, jokes, a handsome face that could draw you in at any moment to share a sweet kiss with-

Fingers snap in front of your face. The sharp sound caused you to jump in response and fumble with the broom to prevent it from falling.

“Hey, kid!”

Stanley’s hoarse voice rang out from beside you; your shoulders tensed while your newfound grip on the broom handle could have splintered it. He must have noticed the panic in your face as he quickly raised his hands as if to show he wasn’t armed.

“Oh, Mr. Stans, I-”

“Huh? I…don’t know if, what-” The perplexed expression he made killed you in a thousand ways before his head shook out the unnecessary thoughts, “NEVERMIND ALL THAT. Forget it. I just wanted to ask ya to get started on restocking the bumper sticker display, alright? Last time to peddle the stuff out while we have the most out-of-town folk. Can ya do that?”

You nod, “Of course! I’ll get started on it straight away, S-Stan.”

The smile you offered didn’t appear to reassure him any as he lingered a moment. His hands were firmly planted on his hips while he actually leaned down to inspect you. Drawing close enough into your space that you had to nearly arch your spine not to bump into the man. Under his gaze all you could do was swallow the thick lump of nervousness that always choked you when Stanley was near.

Suddenly he blinked. As if Stan had just realized how the distance between your two had closed without his notice. Awkwardly Stanley stepped back and coughed into his hand. Your overactive imagination could have sworn his cheeks were tinged pink, “Just, ah…checking to see ya didn’t have a heat stroke or nothing. You don’t, so, start drinking water before you start freaking out the tourists. Got it, kid?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead stomping off to wrangle some poor soul into buying poorly-produced and expensive merchandise. You watched him from where you stood still, now overcome with a flurry of emotions from that blundered interaction. If a Gnome Mech wasn’t going to kill you then Stanley Pines sure as hell was.

With a shake of your head you did your best to gain control of yourself once more while the day threatened to drag on. On the way to the storage room you passed by Wendy. Who, as always, was laid back. She nodded towards you. You returned it without reveling in the silent approval of a teenager before you disappeared in the backroom to grab the needed box. Luckily it was light and allowed you to grab another heftier box full of other items that were in need of refilling and maintenance. It didn’t hurt to put a bit more effort into your job, after all.

Returning to the main room in front of the counter you could finally begin your work. It was almost therapeutic. Nobody bothering you. No immediate death threats or wild twins to wrangle in. Just you and a box of bumper stickers being neatly tucked away into different stacks.

You would have started humming to yourself if something hadn’t felt…off.

Something behind you had begun to radiate heat. Breathing down your neck and causing a nervous drop of sweat to run down your forehead. Slowly you began to turn around until a hot breath suddenly blew across your face, your eyes meeting with another pair with barely a head turn.

“OH, JESUS!”

The shock of it had you bring your arm back to slap the stack of bumper stickers across the cheek of someone not all too unfamiliar. Who you now recognized as Thompson yelped at the contact and went to quickly shield his face with a previously unnoticed bouquet of roses, “Dude, duuuuuuude, stop!” He cried out while his eyes were skewered shut with pain, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I- What-” You dropped the merchandise in your hand as if they alone had somehow enticed you to assault a poor teenager, “No, I mean…Shit. I’m sorry, I guess?” In the midst of your guilt it was hard to pin the blame on anyone, “What in the actual hell were you doing-”

“What in the actual hell- HECK is going on over here?” Stanley’s voice cut through the confusion. His heavy footsteps nearly rattled the walls of the Mystery Shack as he came to inspect the commotion. Stanley’s eyes fell onto the scattered merchandise that caused his frown to be deeper set, eyebrows furrowed in a conflicting mix of emotions.

“Alright, there better be a good explanation for all this racket. You’re distracting the customers- WHAT IS THAT?” His eyes grew impossibly wide as he gestured wildly to the bouquet.

You opened your mouth to reply before the bell attached to the front door rang to grab your attention. Stepping through was Lee, the taller blonde teen that you’ve seen attached to Wendy’s friend group, miraculously holding a bundle of roses in hand.

“He’s lying to you!” Lee shouted and clutched at his heart in either a romantic gesture or a heart attack, “I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!”

“Lee,” Thompson began to what you could only describe as stage-whisper in his friend’s direction, “I didn’t get to my part yet, I got frickin hit!” His hand moved to reveal the slightly pink mark on his cheek.

Lee lost his composure, “Aw, really? Bro, that’s fucking hilarious. But like…c’mon, bro, you gotta do your part before Nate gets here.”

“Wait, Nate?” Your confusion deepened as they ignored you in favor of having a whispered back and forth, with Lee pushing Thompson forward who nearly collided into you with the shove. The look you gave him was of someone afraid of a bomb about to go off.

Thompson wiped the sweat off his brow before offering his flowers with the same hand, “I like, fricken LIKE you, dude! Just love your whole deal,” He confessed with cheeks as hot as the son while he practically had to spit the words out. His heavy breathing began to pick up. Opening his palm you noticed that there was smudged ink on it that he was now trying to read, “T-That’s why I bought you the flowers-”

“WHAAAAAAAT???” Stanley suddenly roared to life while his hands tightened into fists. In a tantrum similar to a child he marched up, glowing down at poor Thompson who’d gone stark white.

“He’s lying to you! I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!” Lee repeated. Stepping forward he cast a concerned glance towards the statue that was once his friend to present his own bundle of flowers to you.

The pollen made you want to sneeze. Impressively Lee managed to ignore Stanley to continue addressing you, “It’s true, I’m Mr. Mystery. And it’s even truer that I’m into older, uh…” He looked you up and down, “Into older individuals.”

Your brows drew closer together in concern, “How old do you think I am?”

Lee bit his lip and raised his brows in what he must have thought was a seductive look, “Old enough, bro.”

Thankfully you didn’t have to respond to that as Stanley’s hand shot forward to grab at Lee’s flowers, tossing them to the ground as if he was spiking a football and causing petals to fly everywhere. Lee stared at his hand in shock before having his attention drawn to Stanley who had the both of them in his sights and looking ready to strike.

“I’m not going to take any kinda lying in my house! Neither you or dweebus here bought ‘em any flowers. You two dorks don’t have the kind of cash for that sorta gesture anyway!”

“Uh, we totally could,” Lee said in an offended tone, “Flowers are like, 8 bucks at the grocery store.”

“The ones delivered weren’t from no grocery store, it was a specialized boutique!” “How’d you know that? Huh?”

“Gardening. Is. My. HOBBY.” Stanley passionately replied through gritted teeth.

“No, it’s not.” Wendy answered, bored.

This was starting to give you a headache in more ways than one. Especially in the sense that the few customers in the shop were beginning to stare you down, no doubt finding this whole spectacle the biggest mystery of the day. It made you want to shrink away and disappear into nothing! Sure, you were just lamenting the end to an exciting summer but this wasn’t the type of bang you wanted it to go out on!

Turning towards Wendy you had prayed she would be of help to wrangle in her friends while Stanley and Lee argued in the background. To your disappointment Wendy was hardly paying attention. To both you and her actual job while she busily texted on her phone. You waved your hand out in front of her.

“Please, a little help?” You were nearly begging, “Think maybe all your friends hit their heads at the same time or something. I don’t even know how they knew about the whole flower thing- WHAT, THOMPSON?”

The nervous teen had managed to shuffle past his friend and your boss. Apparently he had given up reading his hand to instead have his phone pulled out. His eyes would flicker between you and the screen before he tried shoving his remaining flowers back into your face again as opposed to your conveniently open hands.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May-”

“NO. No. No, no, no, noooo!” Like a sheep being surrounded by wolves you staggered back. Your growing panic is now drawing the attention of Stan and Lee who managed to stop arguing long enough to see you turn tail and run, “I’m going home until whatever this is blows over!”

What you expected to be an awkward exit quickly turned to a horror show as Lee and Thompson actually pursued you.

“W-Wait! We didn’t get to the part about how there’s soooo many other bachelors after you!” One of them yelled.

“Yeah, and that waiting too long to snatch you up will result in losing your love fooooreeevveeer,” The other, for whatever reason, said this more towards Stan. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” You shouted off behind you while carefully dodging between both aisles and customers alike.

Seeing as you had two stalkers on your tale Stanley raised a fist, “Hey! No harassing my, uh- favorite employee! Wendy, get my crossbow!”

“No.”

If they started arguing or not after that was none of your concern as you were apparently in a struggle for your life. If your heart wasn’t going to give out on you yet then the embarrassment would definitely get you by the time you get home. God, this was all starting to feel like a fever dream. Or maybe you DID die this summer and now you were in some sick limbo?

Whatever this was, it was clearly because of one thing. The incident with the flowers you received a couple months back, to be exact. After that day there had been no further gifts. How was it connected? Especially to Wendy’s friends of all people who you had the pleasure of not interacting with much at all this summer.

Perhaps they had been the ones to send the flowers in the first place? Attempting to draw you in further with a date to pull a prank on you. Trying to film your reaction for a video that they’d laugh about for ages to come and torment you with.

But no. That couldn’t be it.

Humiliation was certainly what they were achieving right now but if that had been the goal they would have pushed for it when the flowers had first been delivered. Give you a way to contact this ‘Mr. Mystery’. But they hadn’t. So what was the point of now?

You supposed this could haunt you later instead seeing as you had two hot pursuers on your tail. Both Lee and Thompson were still flinging compliments your way while Stanley struggled to catch up between having to clean up any spills along the way as well. Whenever you were able to catch a glance of him you’d shoot an apologetic look that he’d wave off.

It was another minute of dodging the two before you were able to loop your way back around to the front of the Mystery Shack, towards the parking lot and where your car was. To safety. A part of you was even willing to mow down a rowdy teen if you had too! But fate had other plans. The door swung open and you skidded to a halt; nearly crashing into the poor unsuspecting soul who-

It was Nate.

He saw you and grinned, slowly raising a damn bouquet of roses, “Heeeeey, just who I wanted to see! Wanna take a guess at who your secret admirer is? Hint, it’s me!”

Oh, come the fuck on.

Nate must have noticed a deranged look in your eye seeing as he took an awkward step back he clearly hadn’t planned on. From behind you could hear the heavy thudding of feet as Lee and Thompson had finally caught up. Great. You looked both ways. They had an expectant expression on their faces that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Alright, alright, break it up you hormonal goblins. Get BACK, I say!”

Stanley’s voice was like the calm in the storm. It gave you something to focus and center yourself on. You hadn’t even noticed him stepping closer to you before it was too late. Two strong hands clamped around the delicate curve of your waist while thick fingers tickled into your skin. The grasp had a shiver run up your spine. Then what started as a tender embrace quickly became a vice when you were lifted off of your feet.

You actually squeaked. In a display of strength you thought only adrenaline could achieve Stanley had hoisted you above his head and out of reach from your ‘admirers’. Like the tallest kid playing ‘keep away’ in the schoolyard. From below you could see the three teen’s jaws drop at the display while a nearby customer asked if this was part of the tour.

Stan must have heard it since a blush came to his cheeks a moment after yet he refused to release you, “We’ll, uh…just go for now. Break time and whatnot…WENDY, MAN THE STORE!” He shouted while beginning to push his way back towards the employee area of the shack. It wasn't until he was passing staring customers he coughed out a reluctant, “Stop watching and we’ll have a ‘buy two, get one full price’ sale.”

That disappeared the crowd quickly who were now buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a deal. Stanley began to walk you back. With no eyes on the two of you, Stan cautiously began to lower you down. Not to your feet, however. Instead you were brought back into his chest where you had more cushion to lay against. Despite the summer heat his body warmth only drew you in. Not to even get started on how hot your face already was from blushing for the last few minutes!

Stanley meanwhile had his eyes glued to the path ahead. Afraid that taking one glance in your direction would make him regret coming to your rescue at all and depriving himself the chance of seeing you blush longer. Though it was certainly a motivator to have a couple of guys flinging compliments your way so freely as well. God. Wasn’t he too old to be getting into a pissing contest with teens at this point?

Too old in general. Both with having a silly school crush on his employee and also trying to lug you around as if he was twenty years younger. Stan made it look easy but his back pain would be coming back with a vengeance tomorrow!

With your hand resting against his chest though it was hard to deny it was worth it.

Having led you towards the back office Stanley stepped in and used his back foot to kick the door shut behind you two, blocking the light from the shop to leave you in near darkness if it wasn’t for the rare ray of light peering from behind the closed blinds. Without the stark lighting the office was almost calming in contrast. That, or you loved hearing Stanley’s steady breathing more than you realized or the soft beating of his heart if you concentrated on your hand long enough.

Stan moved for the desk. It was crowded with various papers and trinkets he’d keep around to distract himself. At first you had thought he had been in search of something in particular until his hands shifted, with one suddenly slipping just under your butt to keep you hoisted up while the now free one began to clear a space for you.

Your entire posture stiffened once consumed with the realization that your boss was, to put it crudely, grabbing your ass. In spite of how rough they looked, his hands were tender. Mindful. Which judging from his expression you doubted he noticed where he placed his hand at all while tidying up his desk. You were grateful for the distraction. That way he couldn’t see the conflict in your eyes on whether you liked the contact or not after the day you had.

“Here we go…” His rumbling voice brought you back from the brink of a new meltdown as he settled you down onto the hard surface of the desk with your legs dangling over the edge. Yet his hands didn’t leave. Instead they attached back to around your waist with a feather light touch, as if the first hint of disapproval at the contact would knock them back. You showed no such sign, so they stayed.

“You, ah…all good, then?” Stanley seemed to have trouble meeting your eye, “From the dorks. I mean, they hang around Wendy all the time and get into shit, yeah, but they’re not dangerous or nothing. But if they had hurt ya-”

“I’m fine, Stanley,” You said with a soft and assuring tone, “Traumatized, maybe, but…Thank you for saving me.”

He nearly buckled at the ice-melting smile you gave him. For just a moment his fingers tapped against your skin as if they had been tempted to clasp around you tighter. They didn’t. Instead Stanley appeared to realize how close the two of you had gotten and shuffled out of the way, taking his body heat with him as he turned his back towards you to instead fixate his attention elsewhere in the room. Anywhere but you.

Stanley nodded after what seemed an eternity, “No problem. Besides, it’d be bad for the brand to have so many ‘Mr. Mystery’ running around! It’s protected IP!”

At that you found yourself chuckling, “Is this your way of saying you’re tired of hearing about the flowers?” Not that you’d blame him considering what a hot topic it was when it had first happened.

First, Mabel couldn't ignore any degree of romantic gesture without her wanting to be involved with it. Second, this was a small town with nothing to do on the good days. Toby Determined even tried to get an interview (How word got out was beyond you) and Stanley again had to come to your rescue by chasing him off with a broom. With today’s incident you began to worry that this would be a monthly chore for Stanley.

At the suggestion of Stanley getting irritated about anything involving you nearly made him jump to correct that assumption, “NO, I could listen to it aaaall day! Just not going to just stand around and let a couple of liars waltz in to take credit for it.” He said, “I mean, c’mon, they really think those flowers were from the grocery store? Please, I- whoever has way more class than that!”

You giggled at that, which was nice considering how embarrassed you were earlier. But Stan always did put you at ease with all the jokes or lax attitude he’d have to offer no matter the situation. What others found frustrating you found endearing.

“For all the class that he has, you’d think he’d have come forward by now, don’t you think?”

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been all summer since it’s happened. Not a word since,” You shrug and take your turn to stare somewhere else, “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound demanding or anything. But you gotta admit it’s rude to leave someone on edge like that, you know? Just makes me think they lost interest or something.”

Stanley didn’t reply. After seemingly going out of his way to avoid looking at you, you were all he could stare at now. His lips were drawn in a tight frown that settled unnaturally on his face. You were so used to his smiles. Now your boss had an odd expression of contemplation. The way his darkened eyes bore into you made you squirm where you sat, anxiously squeezing your legs together to try and keep your blush at bay.

It was an achievement that you were able to hold a normal conversation with him at all. After the shocking realization that you were disappointed that Stanley never took credit for the original gift, your time at the Mystery Shack had gotten far more difficult outside of the daily threat to your life. Especially when Mabel was like a bloodhound when it came to romance. And when there wasn’t any to be found you could be damn sure that she’d create your own, one way or the other. She was a menace.

“Kid, listen, I-”

“I guess I should-”

Your words quickly amalgamated until the two of you stopped to give the other an apologetic glance. Then silence again. Each prompting the other to continue their dialogue with a vague hand gesture. Both of your hesitancy grew with conflicted gazes.

“I-”

“I-” Stanley slapped his hand over his face to muffle his groan, “Oh, goddammit.”

You flinched at the frustration in his words, “Sorry, sorry! I was just trying to say I should go back to work if they’re all gone.”

Preparing to hop off of the desk you were instead met with Stanley’s large hands suddenly pinning yours to the desk before you could push off. His fingers nearly interlaced with yours. They were trembling. He was towering over you again to the point you had to arch your back to make room for him. Seeing this he released one of your hands to instead place his on the small of your back, supporting your posture.

Stanley’s face was now inches from yours. What little light that came into the room reflected off of his glasses and obscured his eyes. Could he have been taking in your flushed face and wide eyes? Or perhaps he was taking notice of your parted lips. You hoped it was that.

“I…I wasn’t swearing at ya. Just frustrated that I’m not being as smooth as I wanna be,” Stanley spoke in a tone far softer than you’ve ever experienced. With his voice rumbling in his chest it was like a soothing purr. He then swallowed what must have been a lump in his throat, “Listen, it was…It was me who-”

You captured him in a kiss. It was neither passionate or loving, but something new. It was potential. In this instance it was the best kiss you’ve ever had with chapped lips. Intended to be a quick peck you could still feel Stanley’s hands grasp you tighter as his entire posture grew stiff.

A second passes and you pull back, “I’m sorry, I should have let you finish,” You laughed, both at your overexcitement and his stunned expression, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it. Keep going, please.”

Stanley didn’t respond right away as he instead simply stared at you. It was blatantly obvious when the reality of the situation began to hit him as his signature grin stretched across his face. How could an old man be so cute?

“So, uh-” He cleared his throat, “Guess I was saying that I’m the Mr. Mystery. Both at work and as your secret admirer, though I guess not that secret if you knew…Anyways I really like ya! You’ve got spunk, looks, smarts. I mean, how was I not supposed to send any sorta flowers- You get the point!”

This time he drew you in for a kiss. His was more brash and needy as if you’d change your mind at the last second. Using his grip on you he brought you closer until your bodies were pressed against each other and he slotted between your legs to fit. So intimately close yet born from the innocent need of wanting to be near you. This kiss lasted as long as you had air in your lungs.

The both of you parted from the kiss with a dopey smile.

“I didn’t necessarily know, by the way…” You mention after catching your breath, “Just realized how much I wanted it to be you after Wendy suggested it had been sent by someone else.”

Stan hummed in amusement while his hand began to rub up and down the curve of your back, “That so? Guess all that was just your way of getting to confess, eh? Gotta admit, that’s unexpected. But sneaky. I like it!”

“What?” You tilted your head in question, “You mean what happened with all of her friends? I was just starting to think that was you.”

He shook his head. The sweet mood was paused as the both of you had a confused look while playing the strange events over in your head. Stanley snapped you out of it by giving you a squeeze; with it a reminder of your new flourishing relationship with your boss Stanley Pines. You looked back up to see his grin return and a new twinkle in his eye.

“Ehh, we can figure that out some other time, toots,” He said with a wave of his hand to push the thoughts away, “Besides, we probably have a few minutes to uh, make up for lost time, if you get what I mean.” Stanley wiggled his eyebrows at you and made you giggle.

“Depends. Does this count as my break, Stanley?”

“It absolutely does.”

“What? C’mooooon, man.”

__ Outside of the Mystery Shack, hidden amongst the trees and brush, was the sharp glare of the sun reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, to be exact. Behind them being a young girl who wore a thick sweater in spite of the heat. She was biting down on her tongue in concentration as she scanned the building from one window to the next. Where could they be?

From beside her the bushes began to rustle. The noise attracted her attention and she turned in time to capture the magnified image of Wendy’s growing teen pimples as she stepped out from the woods. Mabel chose not to comment on this.

“Status report!” Mabel said in a tone far too commanding for a young girl like her to have. Regardless of this Wendy saluted.

“Mission happened, I guess,” Wendy gave a half-assed thumbs up, “The boys kind of went crazy in there so we didn’t get the romantic confession you dreamed of exactly. But they’re alone, at least?”

“Why, they went crazy under my order, lieutenant! Their goal was to be crazy in love,” She emphasized her words with a dramatic close of her first brought close to her chest, “And nooooow I’m trying to see the romantic confession but they have the blinds closed! Could you imagine trying to hide your love?! It’s inconvenient!!”

As if paranoid something would happen without her watchful eye Mabel returned to her vigilant duty of watching a closed window. Wendy meanwhile had her gaze darted away a moment as if struggling to find what to say. Eventually she rubbed the back of her neck and coughed to get her young friend’s attention,

“You know, it’s…probably a good thing the window is closed if your plan did work, Mabel. I don’t think you’d want to see what you think you’d be seeing.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re prooobably swapping spit right now, Mabel.”

Instantly the binoculars clattered against the hard ground as Mabel nearly convulsed, “Eew, ew, EW! And that’s too much of a picture for Mabel!” Quickly she climbed out of her hiding spot in the bushes to begin following Wendy who was laughing, “I gotta go wash out my mind’s eye now!” "That's probably for the best. Let's just trust them to move that last step themselves, alright, cupid?"

Both girls were laughing now as they returned to the Mystery Shack while patting each other on the back for a job well-done.

#Gravity Falls #Stanley Pines #Gravity Falls fanfic #Gravity Falls x Reader #Stanley Pines x Reader #Reader Insert #hunkle stan #requests #my story #gf stanley pines #mabel pines #wendy corduroy

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sipitdownlikecherrysoup · 2 months ago

Text

i noticed - l.jn # 1

chapter 1. an evening dress to remember. (3.1k)

pairing: regency era gentleman! jeno x dressmaker! reader

blurb: Y/N is a popular dressmaker in regency-era london, and foolishly decides to gatecrash the first ball of the season: a masquerade. even a mask can't stop jeno from noticing that she doesn't belong.

tags: fem & she/her reader, present tense, use of Y/N, reader is paranoid, jeno is incredibly observant, i know nothing about embroidery/tailoring but i try my best, inspired by benedict's story (bridgerton).

Your heart pounds so rapidly in your chest that it feels like it might explode, and you feel terribly sick. You worry that the insane amount of effort you’d put into this dress will be ruined with the amount you've sweat in your anxiety.

Maybe you are making a mistake. No, you definitely are, but it's a little too late to back out now. You are already at the ball. The famed Lee Masquerade Ball. The Lee’s always have the privilege of opening the season with their extravagant masquerade, and it's a favorite among many of the high-society families you now find yourself surrounded with.

You should be having an excellent time yourself, just like the blushing young ladies on the dance floor, and the men happily chatting alongside a tower of sparkling drinks so high that you would definitely send yourself into the cardiac arrest you’re so worried about should you attempt to take a glass for yourself. The only problem is that it's hard to have much fun when you’re worried that someone will discover that you do not belong here.

Should anybody notice that perhaps your posture is incorrect, or your manners aren't quite right, or that you do not know the correct way to formally address many of these guests, or Heaven forbid somebody recognises you as their dressmaker, you will be thrown out of London for good. You’ll lose your home, the flourishing career you have built for yourself, your whole life.

All you had wanted was to experience what a ball was like yourself. The young ladies that frequent your store gush about them all day long. You’ve heard so many tales of the fanciful foods, the most amazing music, and mesmerizing decorations that could make you feel transported to another world. And you know nearly half of the dresses in this very room were hand designed, or even hand tailored by yourself, as well as a decent portion of the gentlemens’ clothing, too. Foolishly, selfishly, you had thought maybe you deserved to attend one of these events after all your hard work. And even if it is as magical as those young ladies made it sound, is it worth all the risk?

This is a mistake.

“If you stare at that tower much longer, you might be able to make it fall with that piercing gaze alone.” A voice shakes you out of your thoughts, making you startle. It’s soft but deep, too, and comes from much closer than you thought anybody was to where you had tried to hide yourself in a far corner of the room.

When you turn to face the owner of the mysterious voice, your breath catches in your throat.

Like yourself, some guests to the masquerade opt for a look that conceals their identity. Some say it's part of the fun. For you, it is a genuine disguise.

Others opt for a simple mask that does little to hide their identity.

The thin and sleek, deep-blue mask adorning Jeno Lee’s face does nothing to disguise him, and the fact that you are speaking to one of the hosts of this prestigious event does nothing to calm your nerves.

You had only seen him once, when he accompanied his mother to the store over a year ago and she insisted he purchase a new pair of silk-white gloves. Startlingly, you realize he is wearing them right now.

It must amuse Jeno, the way you stare at him, slack-jawed and wordless and dumb, if the way he smiles gently at you has anything to say about it.

“Did you want one?” He asks you, politely.

“I Want… One?” Is all you manage to speak brokenly

He blinks at you, a faint smile gracing his lips again. “A drink. From the tower. I can fetch one for you if you wish.”

You spy an opportunity to escape, to send him on his way and dart out of this far-too-big house, to run all the way back to your cozy apartment above the shop and forget this ever happened, so you nod and try your best to match his niceties, “If you would, please, I would be grateful.”

You know something you said was wrong from the way his eyebrows crease ever so slightly but he doesn't call you out on it. He must be too polite.

“Very well.” He turns to approach the drink tower in question before pausing, swiveling on his heels to look at you again, “I apologize. I didn't get your name, Miss…?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

Your brain short circuits. You swear you can feel it pouring from your ears as you fumble wildly for a response. Your name— No! Not your name! Any name but your name.

“Miss… Throckbottom!” You squeak out, only to internally wince when your words reach your ears. Somehow, you have mixed up the worst aspects of two of your clients surnames. Lord Throckmorton, and Lady Oakenbottom. Curiously, it sounds a lot like ‘rock bottom’ and that is exactly how you feel right now.

Still, Jeno has that stupid, and yet incredibly endearing, amused but polite smile. His eyes crinkle this time, too, so you know you’ve really humored him. You worry that he will question you, or that he knows but he only happily replies, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Throckbottom.”

The moment he turns away from you, the escape plan begins. Your eyes dart around the room to locate the nearest exit and then you break for it. In your haste, you try to exit a different way than you entered and get utterly lost in a maze of hallways that seem to stretch on forever.

As you race around the corridors, finding several rooms that seem only to be filled with different types of chairs, multiple locked doors, and a large hall that surely rivaled even the finest art galleries with the collection adorning it's walls, you panic about how deep into this mansion you now are. If you are caught so far away from where you should be, you will be all the more suspicious. And what if you are assumed to be a thief?! Forget being banished from London, you would be thrown straight to the execution block!

Looping back around on yourself, you barely have any air left in your burning lungs when you make it back to the ballroom, but you are rewarded with a hopeful glimpse of your way out. You try your best to casually make your way across the entire ballroom, sticking to the far edges and drawing as little attention to yourself as possible. Your heart aches when you pass by a tray of sweets unlike any you had ever seen, but you could not risk stopping to try them. Not when you were so close to getting out.

Finally, you reach the door, but just as you are about to duck and run, a hand catches yours to gently pull you indoors before it lets go. It’s firm and yet much gentler than you would have assumed given that whoever had grabbed you surely wants you arrested or put to death.

“There you are, Miss…”

He snuck up on you again. Just who is Mister Lee that he has the ability to go entirely undetected by your senses!? What kind of training does he have? Does he know that you were running about his house like a headless chicken just minutes ago? Has he been following you undetected the whole time?

Despite your thoughts getting away from you, you muster the strength to turn and face Jeno, planning on at least attempting to defend yourself. You are shocked still by the careful concern written across his face, and dancing in his eyes, entirely unhidden by the flimsy mask he wears. He looks worried, terribly so, about you, you realize. As if he’s aware of the dangerous situation that you have gotten yourself into.

But he can’t be. Not when he says, “Are you unchaperoned, Miss? Surely you should not be. I was surprised when you had vanished.”

Of course. This is the polite gentleman you had been speaking to, after all. He would be worried about the safety and honor of any lady. It doesn't have anything to do with you in particular.

You shake your head quickly, trying your best to lie your way out of this, “No, my mama is somewhere around here. I only wanted some fresh air, but I forgot myself. It would not do well to leave alone, thank you for the reminder.”

You spot the drink in his hand, the one you had requested, or rather the one he had asked you if you wanted. He had been carrying it around dutifully, then.

“Perhaps a drink will cool my nerves, actually.” You add, trying your best to come up with a convincing story, “I apologize for leaving so suddenly. This is my first ball and I am rather nervous.”

Jeno passes you the drink, but you don't miss the inquisitive look in his expression, like once again you’ve said something wrong. This time, he does not ignore your mistake.

“Ah, this is your debut season? You are… somewhat older than the usual debutante, but I can appreciate that it is likely still nerve wracking.”

Shit. You had thought it would be good cover to play the clueless debutante. It would explain your lack of manners, and your nerves, but you were not sixteen, nor seventeen, nor even eighteen, but twenty-three! You’re not sure whether to be upset or not that he can tell your age from behind your mask.

You panic, totally blanking, before digging yourself deeper into the hole of lies, “W-well! You see, my family is not… so… wealthy, at the moment, and we have had to save for my dowry… so…” You give up talking and then down the drink, far too quickly, almost choking on the slight burn of the alcohol. You had not realized it would have strong liquor in it.

Jeno watches you closely, just as he has been the entire time you’ve been speaking to him. Again, he appears endeared, presumably by the way you just threw back your drink, and then he looks as though he has an idea.

“Would you like to share a dance?”

He looks so genuine as he asks you, like maybe he truly does wish to dance with you. You cannot think of a single reason why. Perhaps he is trying to help you appear more desirable, then? He really is kind.

“Yes.”

No. What are you doing? Why did you agree?

You don't have time to think about that because a pleased-looking Jeno is already leading you towards the floor, and somehow he is perfectly timed with the beginning of the next song. A song that you have no idea how to dance to. You don't know how to dance to any song!

Jeno takes one of your hands into his, and then places the other onto your waist. Thankfully, this appears to be a slow dance rather than anything too complicated. You quickly respond by resting your free hand on his shoulder, and then try your best to follow his lead as the dance starts.

It's evident almost immediately that you have no idea what you're doing. You’re staring down at your feet instead of looking at him. Even with such simple steps, you’re treading on his feet and messing up the timing. Your eyes snap up to his face worriedly, but there isn't any judgment. Instead, Jeno simply looks contemplative before he leans closer to ask you a question in a hushed voice, “Have you never danced before?”

Your head is spinning. He’s so close. You’ve never been this close to a man before, not even when tailoring their suit jackets to perfectly fit their arms— and goodness, does Jeno’s jacket fit him well. You are almost mad that you didn't get to tailor it yourself.

It’s almost a relief that Jeno doesn't seem to require an answer to his question, unbothered that you stare dumbly at him once again, because he certainly already knows the answer. The hand resting at the side of your waist shifts, curling around your lower back, and then he pulls you closer still. He smells faintly of cedarwood and orange blossom and it nearly sends you into a frenzy because why is it so good? You think whatever he is doing to your mind, the way he is hypnotizing you, has tricked you into feeling that you are floating.

Until you realize that your feet are not on the ground. Jeno is lifting you, with the strength of only one arm, so that you are just barely hovering from the ground. The skirts of your dress are long enough that they still touch the ground, concealing the fact that Jeno is all but puppeteering you into the perfect dancer.

You must look shocked because Jeno whispers to confirm that you are alright with this before you quickly school your expression back to neutrality and nod.

It's far too fun dancing with him like this, or just being spun around given that it's very little work for your part. It doesn't look like it's any effort for Jeno either, somehow. How crazy is this guy's core strength, anyways? It wasn't too typical for a gentleman to be that strong, because why would they need to be?

There is a subtle mirth dancing in his eyes when he continues prodding at your facade, “It is strange to neglect to teach a debutante to dance when that is the prime tactic for capturing a suitor.”

Call you crazy but you might even think that Jeno is having fun, too. At your expense.

“We could not afford dance lessons.” You grasp onto that same excuse from earlier, hoping he will let it go.

“Ah, then you must have been planning to charm a suitor some other way.” Jeno muses, and he’s still giving you that soft smile that makes you want to just melt, “From what I have seen, you do not seem to be conversationally gifted either, perhaps you have other talents?”

You have half a mind to scowl at him but manage to refrain. It would be too risky to claim being talented in areas you're unable to talk about, especially when you’ve painstakingly learned how curious Jeno is. You know nothing of pianoforte or watercolors, but embroidery you know.

“Needlework.” You say, before remembering to expand on the subject, “It is my greatest passion. I am never prouder of myself than when I am able to create a unique pattern.”

Unfortunately, you find it hard to stop yourself from rambling too much.

“The pattern on my gloves, for example, uses multiple types of stitching to create what looks like drooping wisteria. Mostly the herringbone stitch and the continental knot stand out, hm, but the humble chain stitch should not go unforgotten. It is a classic.”

Jeno appears to look at your gloves with an incredible intensity that almost makes you clam up self-consciously before he begins his praise, “It is fine work. Your modiste could be jealous.”

You tried to hide your nervous laughter behind a smile, feeling warm from his compliments, but dying inside at the ironic image of feeling jealousy towards yourself.

The conversation lulls, but it's a comfortable silence you find yourself in whilst your eyes drift to take in the scenery of the ballroom again.

You catch a glare from a short, pretty-looking lady and immediately you tense up. It's not just her, the woman next to her is glaring too, and you recognise her as one of your customers, wearing a dress you’d finished laboring over just days ago. You quickly scan the room to find that there are hardly any ladies not giving you some form of nasty look, and there are plenty of gentlemen looking your way as well.

But of course the ladies are giving you such evil looks. You are dancing with Mister Lee, arguably the most desirable bachelor in the ton, perhaps only aside from his titled brother, though maybe still preferable based on the way you had seen debutantes fawn over his ‘handsome visage, kind eyes, and kinder still personality’ many a time while taking their measurements. The man that holds the supposed unofficial record for highest number of ladies trying to faint on him at a single event, as rumor has it, was still looking only at you. The Jeno Lee that many mothers had scorned whilst waiting for their daughters to finish trying their new gowns on for the fact that he has yet to announce his intention to marry is ever so close to you. The very Jeno that currently has an arm tightly wrapped around you is renowned for putting off his need to marry because he would much rather spend his time at home than at high society parties, so of course the fact that you are taking up so much of his time makes you the target of every unwed lady from here to… The rest of England!

You feel dizzy from all of the attention, from how you can feel the hundreds of pairs of eyes glued to you.

You need to leave. As soon as this dance is over. As soon as he lets you back onto the ground.

Almost as if you had pleaded hard enough to the Gods, the dance ends just as you will it to. Jeno finally lets you go. He’s wordless, but again there's something questioning in his eyes that you ignore. You offer your best, and yet definitely still shoddy, curtsey to Jeno and immediately hightail it back towards the main door.

You have no idea what possesses you but you turn your head back for one last look, unable to stop yourself, to see that Jeno is standing stock still in the middle of the dance floor, watching you leave. His gaze does not falter, it almost burns into you. He makes no move to follow you this time, in fact, he makes no move at all, much to the confusion of the other attendees that watch him linger alone in the dancefloor even after it has been abandoned by everyone else. He just watches you, and then everybody else does as well. That seems to snap him from his daze, and then he’s walking away from the floor but you don't bother to look long enough to find out where to.

You focus back on your escape, near running now and it isn't long before you are through the door.

You do not stop running, and you do not look back again.

---

author's note:

thank you so much for reading <3. this is the first time i've published on this blog, so i hope it's well-received. i can make a taglist going forward if anybody is interested, and please stay tuned for part 2! i have at least 8 parts planned overall :). thanks very much to cherry for proofreading this for me <33. - soup

#soup writes!#jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno x y/n #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno fic #jeno #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream #nct x reader #lee jeno x reader

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sixpennydame · 1 year ago

Text

Make. Believe. ❖ Act 3

Actor!Levi x Fem!Reader

The AoT Premiere approaches, but all Levi can think about is you.

Warnings/Content: NSFW, Minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, infidelity (Reader has a boyfriend as first), mentions of AoT final season episodes

A/N: There will be a final drabble that highlights more of the AoT episode premiere event; I wanted this part to focus more on our two main characters, but I've been having so much fun with the extra details in the drabbles. I hope you've enjoyed my take on AoT Actor AU!!

Act 1 | Act 2

Levi can’t keep track of what country he’s in, what time zone or even what day it is.

But he knows it’s been 186 days since he’s seen you.

Japan had been a whirlwind of promotions for the last two parts of the Attack on Titan final season, with meet-and-greets, commercial shoots, and talk show appearances. Europe had been much the same, and although it was exhausting, it was also fulfilling, being back with the cast, traveling with his old friends. He was sad to see it end, but he was also excited about other projects that were coming up. And next month, he’ll be going to the Cannes Film Festival, where the movie you and he shot together will finally premiere. After eight months, he’ll see you again.

But before that, he’s returned to Japan for the premiere of the final two episodes of Attack on Titan. Jet lag is still hitting him hard, and he sighs when he looks over at the clock and sees that it’s only two o’clock in the morning. Another sigh escapes his lips when he looks over at the naked body beside him in the bed. He can barely remember her name - was it Jessica? Jessie? All he really knows is that she was sitting next to him in the bar of the Tokyo Grand Hotel and that she looked as lonely as he was. He feels guilty - he’s never been one for one night stands - but he was yearning to feel your body again; and if he couldn’t have you, then this was good enough.

These days, your face is everywhere. You’d recently contracted with Christian Dior and were now the model for Miss Dior cologne. As Levi had arrived at Haneda airport, there was a giant poster of you tangled up in silk sheets with your hair cascading down one bare shoulder. “What Would You Do For Love?” the poster asked.

When he walked in a posh area of Shibuya, there was another advertisement of you; this time you’re lying across a sofa in a black silk dress, the pink bottle of cologne pressed against your chest. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry - the same kind of look you’d give him when you’d make love, all those months ago.

He reaches over and grabs his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in the darkness as he scrolls mindlessly through Instagram. He stops when he sees that you’ve posted a picture.

“Just finished filming season one! Now for a much needed break.”

You’re surrounded by your other cast members, all of you smiling. A man has his arm around you and Levi squints to look closer at the picture. He wonders if he’s just a friend, or if it’s something more, then he laughs at himself.

What is he doing? Why can’t he forget you?

He’s the one that made this choice, and he’s the one that pushed you away. You’re smart, ambitious, and beautiful - of course you’d find someone else to be with. But he can't help but wonder what it’ll be like to see you in person again, and with you on his mind, he eventually falls asleep.

Hours later, Levi’s phone is buzzing and chiming erratically and it jolts him awake. He turns off the alarm, then checks the time. “Shit, I gotta get up.”

He’d promised Erwin that they’d do a run this morning around the Imperial Palace Gardens. As he gets out of bed and grabs a t-shirt, an arm from the woman next to him reaches over.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey.” Awkwardness and regret drip from his voice. “This was fun but you’ve gotta go - I mean I - I’ve gotta go. I have somewhere to be.”

“Ok…let me just go clean up a bit,” she replies as she picks her clothes up off the floor and makes her way to the bathroom.

Putting on his running clothes, Levi shakes his head. They’re two consenting adults, but he can’t help but feel embarrassed about it all. He hates these kinds of awkward moments, especially when he knows he has no feelings for the woman.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and notices there’s an unread message. When he unlocks his phone, he sees that it’s from you and his heart starts to beat fast.

“Hi. Have fun at the premiere tonight.”

That was it, but Levi reads it a few times. He types out a simple, “Thanks,” not wanting to be rude, but also not wanting to seem too eager.

He puts the phone down but after a few seconds, picks it back up again and types another message.

“How are you?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Got some good news?” The woman is out of the bathroom and dressed.

Levi looks up from the screen then puts the phone down quickly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He walks over to her and kisses her tentatively on the cheek. “I’ll text you later.”

“You don’t have my number.” She’s seen right through his lie.

“Look I’m sorry, it’s just that I -“

“It’s fine, I wasn’t expecting more out of this anyway.” Before she opens the door to leave, she stops to look at him. “You’re a good man, Levi. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

—-

Erwin stands at the entrance of the Imperial Palace East Gardens, looking at his watch. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know, I got held up. Sorry about that.”

“Still jet lagged?”

“A bit,” Levi answers as he messes with his smart watch. “You?”

“Not really. Cold showers in the morning really help me to adjust.”

Levi laughs. “Of course. I forgot you did that.”

“Every morning. Let’s go.” Erwin and Levi start jogging down the path that leads through the East Gardens. It’s early spring and the cherry blossoms are at their peak in Tokyo, pink petals falling down around them.

When Erwin and Levi were on set for Attack on Titan, they would jog together every morning. It was something that Levi had always done alone, but found having a running partner comforting, even if they barely talked to each other. Erwin had a perpetual aura of calm around him, which was difficult to find amongst other actors. Levi hadn’t seen much of him since his character died, and both had been busy doing other projects; these past weeks doing promos for AoT made him feel like it was old times.

They finish an hour later back where they started, sunglasses on with the hope that no one will recognize them. “You ready for tonight?” Erwin asks as he walks up to a vending machine to buy a bottle of water.

“Yes and no. It’s bittersweet, to see something you worked on for so long finally end. But I’m proud of the work we’ve done on it, and I’m excited to see how the final episodes turned out.”

“Me too. It was good to be on set with you again, even for just a short moment.”

“Yeah, those were not fake tears coming down my face, let me tell you,” Levi admitted with a laugh.

As both men walked through the park, Levi reached into his pocket to check his phone and sure enough, there was another text from you:

“I’m doing good. :-)”

It elicits a smile from Levi and Erwin laughs. “What?” Levi asks defensively.

“Oh nothing,” Erwin replies, “that’s just an awful big smile. Must be someone special.”

“Someone I was trying to forget, actually.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I’m an idiot and I thought it’d be better that way for her.”

“Ah, I see.” Erwin sits down on a bench under a sweeping sakura tree and Levi follows. “Levi, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always put others ahead of yourself. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. But sometimes, you should be a little selfish.” He puts a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “And it’s ok to go after the things that you want. When you do that, life finds a way of working itself out.”

Levi smiles. Even off-screen, Erwin had a way of saying the wisest thing, right when he needed it most. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

“‘Course I’m right,” Erwin grins. “And as your commander, my final order is for you to go after this woman with your whole heart.”

They both laugh and talk as they make their way out of the park and to the busy streets of Tokyo. When Levi returns to his hotel and enters the elevator, he feels his phone buzz. It’s another message from you, and Levi’s eyes go wide when he reads it:

“I’m in Tokyo to attend the AoT premiere. I hope you don’t mind.”

——

Iceland was cold. And lonely.

The last six months shooting the series had been an incredible experience. The cast was a mix of seasoned actors and newbies just starting out, and with a young, emerging director looking to prove himself, you knew that you were a part of something great. The days were long and sometimes exhausting, and often ended up with you collapsed on your bed looking over lines into the wee hours of the morning. For the most part, you were happy.

But god, you missed Levi.

That last night you saw him, you couldn’t understand why he thought it would be better for you two to be apart, but you pretended to be ok with it. And it had taken everything in you not to knock on his door the next morning when you were leaving. You’d seen the jealousy on his face that night - you knew he still cared for you. But your pride had you walk away without so much as a goodbye. It’s what he wanted, right?

So you tried to move on and forget him. You’d even started dating someone on set; a feeble attempt to prove to yourself (and to Levi, in a way) that you could be a working actor and keep up a relationship. He was nice enough and the sex was good, but it just wasn’t the same. Something was missing.

You knew Levi hated social media and never updated his Instagram account, so you started following his AoT co-stars, hoping to get just a glimpse of him. Every once in a while, a video would come out on YouTube of him in an interview with other cast members, and you’d smile at how awkward he was at being himself in front of a camera.

When the date of the AoT premiere was announced, you immediately contacted your agent to get you on the guest list. You’d loved Attack on Titan for years - you had to be there. And to be honest, you wanted to see that dark-haired, brooding man again, even if from a distance.

Filming was wrapped for the next several months, to give you all some much needed rest, but you only had one day at home before you were back on a plane and headed to Japan. As you arrived at your hotel in the darkness of the early morning, you got your phone out of your bag. Somewhere, in this sprawling city, Levi was sleeping. You wonder, does he ever dream of you?

You find his name in your contacts and send him a quick text. He probably won’t respond, you think to yourself.

When you wake up late that morning and see that he has, your heart skips a beat.

You can’t help but smile as you send him a reply. Then another. You fall asleep for an hour or so and when you wake up, he’s answered you:

“Of course not. I hope I’ll see you there.”

——

The area around the Toho Cinema Roppongi Hills is starting to fill with people as the time for the Attack on Titan, Final Parts 1 and 2 premiere approaches. A red carpet has been rolled out and barriers put up; press and media have started to set up in their usual places, in preparation for pictures and interviews with the cast. Premieres are a huge event, and something that Levi has been involved in more times than he can count, but this one - the final AoT episodes - makes him feel emotional.

Now that he knows you’ll be here, he’s glad he didn’t bring a date - not that he was looking for one. He, Erwin, and Hange had decided to be each other’s dates months ago and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. The three of them ride in a limo to the cinema, along with their publicists and agents. All of them are silent, feeling the weight of this moment, until Hange breaks the silence as they pull up to the entrance.

“Ok, boys…the last ride of the three amigos..”

The three get out of the car and the cameras instantly start flashing. Hange gets between both Levi and Erwin and takes either arm in theirs, walking the red carpet and taking pictures before they separate for individual photos and interviews.

Levi usually likes picking his own clothes out for premiers, but he let a stylist do it this time. He walks down the red carpet in black pants and jacket, with a black mesh collared shirt underneath, which gives just the faintest view of his toned chest. Silver rings adorn his fingers, and he’s slicked back his hair, which he’s been growing out the past few months, just for fun. Photographers are yelling at him from every direction, asking him to look their way, or to take a picture with Hange, Zeke, or Erwin. All around him are the smiling faces of people he’s known for over 10 years, and soon, other celebrities and guests attending the event follow behind them. He looks through the crowd and sees you having your picture taken. You catch his eye and smile; he tries to make his way toward you but he’s whisked away by his publicist.

There are seats reserved in the front of the theater for the cast, with guests sitting in the rows behind them. He takes out his phone and texts you almost immediately upon sitting:

“Come to the after party? It’d be good to catch up.”

He sends you the address and a few moments later, receives your reply:

“I’ll see you there. :-)”

As he puts his phone in the breast pocket of his jacket, Hange reaches for his hand. “Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies with a sigh, squeezing their hand tightly.

The lights lower and the screen lights up to cheers from the crowd.

—-

Watching the final episodes was emotional, to say the least, but the mood at the after party is joyful and energetic. Everyone is drinking, eating, laughing, and reminiscing. Levi is sitting at a table with Petra, Ulou, and Eld when Zeke runs up.

“Levi, Levi, Levi, I just heard the greatest idea!” He forces his way between him and Petra. “Cast tattoos!”

“What?” Levi laughs.

“Yeah! Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and the others are doing it - we gotta do it too. They’re leaving soon, so let’s go!”

“No, no, there’s no we in this,” Levi protests as he resists Zeke pulling him away from the table. “Besides, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh?” That stops Zeke immediately. “And who would that be?”

You thank your driver in your limited Japanese as you leave the car and enter the stylish restaurant. Walking through the crowded space, you see Eren and Mikasa laughing and drinking with a group of other young actors. As a fan of the show since its beginning, you are feeling like a total fangirl as there are cast members from every season around you. But as you walk around the room looking for Levi, you suddenly get nervous, thinking that maybe this was a bad idea; you’re not even sure what you’re expecting from this night.

Just as you think about leaving, you see him sitting at a table with the Levi Squad cast and Zeke, who has an arm around him. He looks up, sees you, and smiles, throwing Zeke’s arm off of him.

As he walks towards you, you admire how good he looks. He’s so sexy, you can feel yourself blushing.

“Glad you could make it” he says, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek. His lips are soft, just like you remember them.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Attack on Titan has been my favorite series since forever. To be honest, I am so excited to be surrounded by the cast.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of them.” He places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the crowd. Your hunter green silk dress swoops down low in the back, so when his hand touches your bare skin it gives you goosebumps.

He takes you from group to group, introducing you to people you’ve only known through a screen. You laugh with Jean and Connie as they talk about the practical jokes they used to pull on Levi off-set; you sing Red Swan (your favorite opening song) with Armin and Sasha, Levi refusing to join in no matter how hard you all try; you take shots with Hange and gush about how much you loved their character.

Levi watches you and can’t stop smiling. He’d forgotten how good it feels to be around you, to talk and flirt with you. Your hand grazes his and when he weaves his fingers through yours, you don’t resist. Your eyes shine as you look at him; you don’t have to say a word but he knows you’re feeling it too.

The two of you eventually make it over to Erwin and you blush when Levi brags about the film you made together and your acting skills.

“No, no,” you interject, “Levi is the real talent. His acting on set was some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Erwin smiles. “I’m sure you both complement each other well and that the movie will be spectacular. I’m looking forward to seeing it.” He gives Levi a knowing smile and lifts up his champagne glass.

“Levi! My buddy!” Zeke comes crashing through the group, clearly inebriated. “And who is this? It’s Miss Dior herself.”

“Oh you’ve seen those?” The way he says it brings a blush to your cheeks.

“Of course I have. You look absolutely mesmerizing in those ads,” he moves closer to you, “just like you do tonight.”

Zeke leans on a nearby table and gives a playful smirk. “How long are you staying in Tokyo? I could show you around, if you’d like.”

“She doesn’t need you showing her around anywhere.” Levi’s voice is forceful for the first time that night. You put a reassuring hand on his arm - you have to admit, you like seeing him a little jealous.

“Thanks for the offer, Zeke, but I already have extensive plans in Tokyo.” You give Levi a smile that lets him know that ‘he’ is the plan.

Erwin comes to the rescue of both of you. “Zeke, what’s this I hear about tattoos? Are we doing this tonight?” He puts an arm around Zeke and leads him away, giving you both a wink.

The restaurant is large and sprawling, built in the old Japanese style, but is an interesting mix of East and West, old and new. There’s a garden in the center with the main area and smaller, more private rooms surrounding it. Wanting to escape the noise and commotion, you lead Levi outside, “It’s a bit quieter out here.”

“And more beautiful,” Levi replies, as you walk across a small bridge crossing a koi pond.

“It really is beautiful out here. I’ve always loved Japanese gardens.”

“I wasn’t talking about the garden.” He moves closer to you as you lean against the banister of the bridge. “You look stunning.”

“You know why I chose hunter green, don’t you?” He shakes his head. “Because it’s Levi’s color.”

“Oh really?” He is in front of you now, his hand grazing your arm ever so slightly as he looks you up and down.

“Mmmhmm, he’s always been my favorite character.”

“Nice to know I have a fan.”

“I’m just one of many.”

“But you’re the only one that matters.”

That makes you giggle. “So flirty. Is that how you get the ladies these days?”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.” He looks at you with his piercing eyes. “It’s always been you.”

His words are like music to your ears, but you’re determined to stand firm. You can’t let him off so easily. “That didn’t seem to be the case six months ago.”

“Because I thought it was for the best, but I was wrong. So wrong. And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

His hand moves around your waist and he pulls you close. The lights of the garden shine in his dark grey eyes as his lips softly press against yours. You can’t help but return the kiss, your mouth opening slightly, inviting his tongue inside. When he moves away slightly, you realize you’d been holding your breath.

“I never should have let you go.”

“Levi, I..”

A few noisy and slightly drunk guests amble outside, ruining the moment. Without a word, Levi takes your hand and pulls you to a far corner of the garden, toward the private rooms. He pulls back the heavy, velvet curtains separating the room from the garden and gestures for you to enter. The room is small and intimate, decorated in a western style with a large, ornate mirror. You walk around, admiring the wingback chairs and gilded furniture, and then you feel Levi’s presence behind you.

His fingers lightly skim your bare arms, leaving a trail of heat coursing through your body. You close your eyes when you feel his warm breath against your neck, followed by soft kisses.

“Levi..I’m seeing someone..” you manage to say.

“Oh yeah?” He responds gently in your ear before kissing your earlobe. “You sure about that?”

When you open your eyes, you notice that you’re in front of the mirror and can see Levi kissing along your neck and shoulders. He looks up and grins.

“Right now I only see you and me.”

He continues kissing along your shoulder until the thin strap of your dress falls down your arm. You can’t resist him, you never could, and so you give in to your desires. You lean your body until your back is pressing against his chest. One of his hands is holding yours while the other is moving the fallen strap down lower, exposing your breast.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says as he looks at you in the mirror, his hand moving to cup your breast. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night.”

You guide his other hand lower, to the high slit of your dress, urging him to touch your thigh. “I missed you, Levi. So much.”

For you, it’s always been him as well. As much as you’ve tried to deny your feelings for him these past six months, all it took was one touch from him for it to all come back. And now you want more.

His hand finds its way between your thighs as his other hand massages your breast. “You’re already so wet for me,” he notices, as his fingers begin to rub your clit.

“You’re the only one who knows how to make me feel good,” you reply, then your breath catches as he pushes your panties to the side and sides a finger inside you.

It’s a beautifully erotic sight, watching yourself in the mirror as Levi pinches your nipple and pumps his finger in and out of you. You can’t help but let out a moan.

“‘Shhh, you don’t want someone to hear, do you?”

“I don’t care. Levi, I need you so badly.”

You turn around to kiss him, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the floor. Almost immediately, he has you pressed against the wall and is lifting your dress up to your waist. He’s unbuttoning his pants as you slide your panties down, but only get so far as taking them off one leg before he lifts that leg up and rubs his cock against you.

Levi has tunnel vision right now; all he can see is your perfect body, all he wants to hear are the moans of his name from your pretty mouth. And that’s exactly what he gets when he thrusts inside you. You bite your bottom lip as he pounds into you again and again. “I thought you didn’t care if someone heard us?”

“I’m trying to be good,” you reply breathlessly.

“Oh I think we’re well past being good.”

He pins your arm over your head as his other hand is still lifting your leg, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You kiss and suck on his neck, leaving a small mark.

“Careful there..”

“What? Makeup can cover it up,” you tease seductively, referring to the first time you and Levi made love.

He lets out a soft growl. “Then I suppose now we’re even.” He picks up the pace, watching as your breasts bounce up and down with each hard thrust. You’re driving him wild; every nerve in his body feels completely alive.

“Levi, I’m…”

He knows. He’s feeling it too. He kisses you long and hard, then feels your walls spasm around him. It’s just what he needs to push him over the edge, and as he cums inside you, it’s as if the whole world has stopped; only your uneven breaths mark the time passing.

You continue to spasm around his cock as your mind goes completely blank. You can’t explain it, but Levi elicits the longest, most intense orgasms from you. It’s just how your body reacts to him - you can’t explain it.

He says your name in your ear, his voice deep and raspy. “Will you forgive me? For all the time we wasted apart. I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

“Yes. Yes, I forgive you.” You run your fingers through his silky hair. “I know we can make this work.”

Of course you forgive him. You’d forgiven him the moment you laid eyes on him tonight; maybe even before that.

The bottom of your dress falls back over your legs and Levi gently pulls the straps back up on your shoulders. You are his, and he is yours - it’s always been this way, and now both of you know it. As you fix your hair and touch up your lipstick in the mirror, there’s a commotion in the garden.

“Leeeeeviiiiiiiii! Where are you? We’re getting tattoos!”

He’d know that yell anywhere: it’s Hange.

“Yeah, come on, Levi! We’re all getting tattoos!”

And Zeke is with them.

“Goddammit. Let’s stay here a little longer.”

You laugh. “You should do it…for memories.” You cup his cheek and give him a kiss. “Get it on your ass, so then only I can see it.”

At that, Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make this weirder than it already is.”

He takes your hand in his, then meets the screaming duo in the garden. “Ok, fine, let’s do this,” he resigns, as he leads you along to join the group.

“You want me to come too?”

“Of course.” His face is serious, but there’s a joy in his eyes. “I don’t intend on letting you out of my sight.”

“Yes!” Zeke exclaims. “Eren, Levi is in! Let’s go!!”

And so you walk, hand in hand, out of the restaurant to find the others.

——

“There’s no denying that the two of you have an incredible chemistry in the film. Did that come naturally?” the interviewer asks.

“I think I felt that spark between us almost immediately. Wouldn’t you say?” Levi answers.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” you reply fondly.

It’s the week of the Cannes Film Festival and you and Levi are on the interview circuit. After the AoT premiere, you broke up with your boyfriend and stayed with Levi in Tokyo, then went with him to Singapore and Seoul as the cast traveled from city to city. The month flew by and the next thing you knew, you were both traveling to France.

You’re together everywhere, and the paparazzi have quickly deduced that you're an item. It’s been a hot topic of all the celebrity and gossip sites, but neither of you care - a rare occurrence, for Levi especially, who has always valued his privacy intensely.

“And you’re actually a couple in real life, correct?”

“We are.” You answer tentatively. “He tolerates me, anyway.” You make light of it, but answering this question always makes you nervous, since you’re not quite sure how much Levi wants to share.

“More than tolerate,” Levi squeezes your hand, “she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to my life.”

He knew this question would come up, because it always does these days. But he’s realized, he’s not concerned with the gossip or the naysayers; he knows that whatever challenges come your way, the two of you can ride it out.

He believes this will work, because he’s in love with you. And after this interview is over, he’s going to tell you exactly that.

Join my taglist!

@thevelria @lunaheroine18 @meltingforthatackerman @adanfore @blondebebop @levisfavoriteacup @dont-f-with-moogles @itty-bitty-baby-face @ricecrispiebirb @whorenamedbee @rec-a-fic @leviismybby @littlerequiem @satorizz @lost-in-the-daylight @nube55 @kingkonoha @youre-ackermine @saenora @wanderlustqueen-writes @mrsackermannx @honestlywtfisgoingon @bejewelledd @cometlevi @sea-after-a-storm @notgoodforlife @belovedackerman @y44sherlock @xyumemi @armani78 @humanitys-strongest-bamf @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw @woozzz @imlevisoneandonlywife @notsaelty @zasialovee @heartsforlevi @pieckes @aomi04 @ackermendick @sun-drak @crazychaoticizzy @mintandgingertea @socio-kai-path 1972 @xuanzhe @hvziers @hollistichood @highgoon69 @Vxlentine888 @luasxsx @thebobaprincess @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @worldseer @xuanzhe

#levi ackerman smut #levi x fem!reader #levi x reader #levi x you #actor!levi #aot actor au #aot actor au fan fiction #aot fanfiction #n.sfw #sixpennydame series #sixpennydame make.believe.#make.believe. part 3

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turtleybeachin · 2 months ago

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idk was just talking with a friend about the angel event in the OG and then it turned into talking about Simeon's fate and in the midst of all the thoughts and lore and feelings it just really hit me how much Diavolo's hope for peace is already affecting the celestial realm.

((spoilers ahead for Simeon's fate in the OG storyline, though if you're caught up in Nightbringer you already know this. also talk about the Nightbringer storyline for seasons 1+2.))

Simeon stealing from the Celestial Realm to save the life of someone he loves is such a perfect recreation of Lilith's crime that led to the brother's downfall, but with such a vastly different outcome. Instead of falling to hell, he's made human.

Because falling to hell isn't the punishment it once was.

In nightbringer, we see how the brothers really struggled initially. Like if it wasn't for Lucifer already having a friendship with Diavolo, and swearing an oath of loyalty, they would have been fully fucked. Stores wouldn't let them in, they were confused by and afraid of all the food, they had no idea how to handle the corruption of their sins overtaking them, society as a whole saw them as the Stupid Pathetic Enemy who deserved to be left to die scared and alone.

But because they did have Diavolo on their side (and in NB's timeline, having MC there to also guide and assist), they were able to claw their way to some prestige and respect. They were able to learn how to live. They were able to force society to acknowledge them. They were able to create a home and a space for themselves. They thrived.

And then we see how the exchange program has further helped that divide: Angels come to the Devildom and find that it isn't actually that scary or evil or dark, not in all the ways they were told. They make friends, find new ideas and items that make their lives better and more fun. They go back to the Celestial Realm and tell everyone about it, that the brothers who fell so long ago are happy and healthy and doing really well, that the Devildom isn't that bad at all and demons aren't all pure evil.

Which is all great for the concept of peace! Hell yeah, two polar opposite realms coming together and realizing they're not so polar opposite after all, and that there can be good in any place! Look at you go, Diavolo, you're doing it!

... but in the process, accidentally, you're also destroying the Celestial Realm's greatest threat. Being cast out of heaven and into hell was always the best weapon they had to keep angels in line. Behave, don't question, don't disobey, or we'll cast you to hell and you'll suffer eternally!

...... except now, you won't. You'll be reunited with fallen brothers you've possibly been missing for millennia, you'll be given respect and aid, you'll have a place in society. And for angels who have been there, you already have a home there, and friends, and are accustomed to the culture.

Being cast into hell is no longer the same punishment it was always meant to be.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #omnb #obey me thoughts #obey me simeon #my writing

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system-to-the-madness · 2 months ago

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Classroom Confessions - Sugawara Kōshi x Reader

Pairing: Sugawara Kōshi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) AU: post!timeskip Genre: fluff Word Count: 1 280 Warnings: none Summary: You help Suga clean up the classroom Prompts: acorn, chestnut, pinecone A/N: I’m in love with Suga. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m in love with this character. If I could, I’d marry the shit out of him

After hours of sitting on the small chair that had been assigned to you, you felt like it was almost a relief to be sweeping the floor of the elementary school classroom. The children had done most of the cleaning up already but wanting the room to be in top condition for their Monday class, you had offered to sweep out the last dust and traces of their crafting projects; scraps of paper mostly.

“Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to help clean up,” a familiar voice behind you spoke, making you look up from where you had just gathered everything you had swept up in a neat pile.

“You’re welcome, thank you for inviting me,” you smiled and turned around to your former classmate Sugawara.

“I was surprised you actually came,” he admitted, running a hand through his adorably disheveled silver hair, before he grabbed a hand broom and walked over to you, crouching down and sweeping up the paper and dust you had gathered.

“I got invited, so I figured it was the polite thing to do,” you told him, making use of the moment to take in his appearance once more.

His hair was longer than it had been during his school time, but not unkempt. Instead, it looked soft and fluffy, just like the dark green sweater he was dressed in. During your school time you had been close, really close, but with university and the stress of entering a job, you had lost contact for a few years, until you had bumped into him again recently.

It had hardly surprised you, that the attraction you had felt towards him during school was still there, and he had hardly changed. He was still the responsible, caring friend you knew, but at the same time as sassy and chaotic as ever.

One thing that had changed though was that he had grown more confident, and after meeting with him and a few other friends from school, he asked you to go out with him. It was nothing official yet, only the declaration between the two of you that you both wanted to try what a relationship might be like, limited to dates over coffee or ramen and shy handholding.

Both of you were busy with your jobs though, so when he had invited you to the event at his school, you had agreed to join immediately, knowing it gave you a good excuse to spend time with him while watching him in his workplace and interact with the students he taught. And it would have been an understatement to claim watching him treat them so sweetly, taking them serious but not being harsh with them, instead curious and funny, it made your heart swoon even more for the young elementary school teacher.

“The kids were really excited for you to join,” Suga agreed, getting up from the floor and discarding the last dirt in the bin. “And so was I.”

He shot you one of his bright smiles as he put the brooms away.

“I really had fun,” you told him, leaning against one of the small tables. “It was nice, doing some crafting again. I liked the idea.”

“To have children and parents craft together?”

“That too, but also the little figures?” You turned around and lifted up one you had made. “First going out and searching for the acorns and chestnuts and pinecones, and then making these little figures out of it? That’s a really adorable idea.”

Suga smiled thoughtfully, walking over to one of the tables where he had prepared two cups of leftover tea.

“I wanted to do something that fit the season and gave the parents a reason to spend time with their children,” he explained, handing you one of the cups and leaning against a table opposite you. His smile faded away and instead was replaced by thoughtfulness. “Some of the children said, their parents barely have time for them, and it made them sad that they couldn’t play together like in the story we read in class.”

“So, you created an opportunity for that?”

Suga nodded, taking a sip of the black tea. “Hm, I’m really glad every child had at least one parent who made time for them.”

“And they made some really cute figures,” you laughed, remembering the attempts of the students to stick woolly yarn on the heads of their figures and draw faces on the roundish, smooth surface.

“Oh, now that you mention it,” Suga pushed away from the table again and walked over to his desk. “I received a gift.”

Curiously you watched as he carefully pulled something out of a drawer, placed it on his palm and came walking back over to you.

“What is it,” you asked, tilting your head. It seemed like two of the pinecone- figurines, and as Suga came closer, you realized one had silver yarn stuck to its head and the other a yarn that seemed to try to imitate your own hair colour.

“It’s us,” Suga grinned, holding the figures out for you to study more closely. In fact, it seemed like their hands had been glued together, making it look as if they were holding hands.

“Did you tell them we were dating,” you asked amused, taking in the details of the figures. The one that represented Suga had some dark green felt stuck over its body, mimicking his pullover while your figure was dressed in bright orange.

“I didn’t… I might have mentioned you a few times though,” he admitted.

When you looked up at him, he had the softest smile on his face looking at the figures.

“A few times,” you asked amused, knowing if he said ‘a few times’ he probably hadn’t shut up about you. You had already suspected as much, considering how much the children had known about you before you had even stepped foot into the classroom.

Suga hummed, not really reacting to your teasing, instead his soft smile turning cocky as he said: “One of the mothers asked when we’re getting married.”

You sputtered at that, quickly averting your eyes as heat rose in your cheeks. Suga had known exactly what his statement would do to you and took delight in your reaction.

“We’re barely dating,” you told him, trying hard to regain your composure, still unable to meet his eyes, the idea of marrying Suga suddenly making hot butterflies dance in your stomach.

You heard Suga put down the figurines he had been holding, and a moment later he was standing in front of you, caging you against the table with both of his hands on either side leaning against the table.

“Well, maybe we should make it official,” he whispered against your ear, his voice low, but you knew him well enough to hear the nervousness that swung alongside his suggestion.

Turning your head, finally looking at him again, you found his dark eyes watching you carefully. There was still a hint of cockiness and playfulness left, but it was obvious how hard he tried to keep up the façade over the fear of rejection. For a moment you just studied him, his beautiful dark eyes, the faint freckles over his nose, the dark hair on his jaw where he had shaved just this morning, the soft bow of his lips.

Yeah, you thought to yourself, you most certainly wouldn’t mind making it official. The only reason you hadn’t asked him yet was because you hadn’t been certain whether he was certain. So instead of giving him a verbal answer, you just smiled at him shortly before leaning in and closing the gap between your lips.

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qwimblenorrisstan · 3 months ago

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An Exchange in Etiquette | Eris x Reader

Eris Week Day 1: Bargains @erisweekofficial 👑

Summary: When a poorly mannered royal his age shows up at the ball, teenage Eris can’t help but take pity on her, offering a deal, that he give her a lesson in etiquette, in exchange for a lesson in defiance.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death (not any mc), flirty men and women that are weirdos, Eris being sassy, toes being stomped on, you get the dealio (also eris is a teenager in this, so it’s before UTM)

A/N: this is my first time participating in an event, so im hoping it’ll be fun, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Eris was under the assumption that he had seen everyone at this ball before.

His father had always told him to pay attention at these sorts of events and to take notice of the royals and what they liked, to get on their good side. And for the most part, Eris excelled in it.

He knew that Lady Ironcrest liked her wine a bit on the younger side, but her husband would only accept the oldest of wine, opposite to her. He knew that his visiting cousins who were all nearly a century old by now only came to look for pretty ladies, other than one named Moros, who would try to glean information out of others.

Eris never told the snake anything.

But there was one royal he didn’t know anything about, precisely because he had never seen her before. Around his age, you looked to be 17 or 18. Young, like him, but significantly less…royal, or at least not as trained as he was.

You stuck close to your mother’s side, uncertain eyes that were glazed over in what looked to be defiance with a hint of fear glancing everywhere frantically. You were a pretty little thing, but no one at the ball was bound to notice it when you were hiding away and giving unimpressed looks to everyone who walked up to you.

It was quite pathetic, in his opinion.

And your mother… he’d seen her before, but only many years ago. She hadn’t attended any royal events in years, except for now, wearing a dark veil over her face to signify her status as a widow to a royal, making her ineligible for any other male.

He assumed that she’d been forced to take years of silence and isolation other than you after her husband died, a common practice among Fae, because when you were immortal, a few months or years of silence and aloneness passed quickly.

Especially when she should’ve had her husband for all of her immortal life.

He turned to glance at his father where he sat upon a large throne interwoven and made by autumnal trees and their crunchy leaves, a crisp air emanating from it, as if representing the life of the season itself. His father’s sharp eyes caught him, and the tiniest little jerk of his chin to you and your mother, and he was already in motion.

His shoes clacked nearly silently against the floor as he approached you, who now seemed to be stuck in conversation with one of the more annoying frequent guests of the balls who was much too old for you, but you didn’t speak up at all, not that you had much choice.

Watching the interaction, he decided that maybe he would simply observe for a little while, just to sniff out what you were like. Sometimes the shy girls had a more whiny and spoiled side, easily exploitable.

“So, what has your mother finally resurfacing? I mean, praise the Mother she did, I’ve always wanted to see her bloodline with my own eyes.”

The male drawled, his deep brown eyes peering into your eyes, locks of his hair brushing against his forehead. You looked very uncomfortable, he could tell by your body language. Closed off. Leaning away. Lips pursed in distaste.

He could see your eyes darting around again, looking for anything to distract yourself with. An excuse to get away. He would know, he’d been there many times before when older females would try to prey on him.

“I don’t..”

You tried, voice trying to stay steady, trying to keep it together. You were fidgeting with the ends of your dress. The male leaned in closer to you, the height difference quite palpable.

“What? I’ve met a few females who were struck speechless by me, but my, never-“

Eris’ eyes widened as the male was cut off with a violent stomp to the foot by you, watching as he hissed in pain, jerking back and knocking right into another lady, her glass of deep red wine spilling all over your dress, obviously staining.

You huffed out of your nostril, giving a very non-ladylike glare to the male, obviously seething. It was beyond embarrassing, he’d admit. He saw the way tears welled in your eyes, both from anger and pure mortification.

“Eris,”

His mother’s voice reached his ears as she snapped once, silencing the entire ball. His eyes drifted to his mother, his head slightly tilting in curiosity.

“Yes, mother?”

He tried his hardest to keep his voice even, despite the crushing weight of everyone staring very clearly at him, and the expectation to be the perfect son.

“Take her to the washroom and find her some fresh clothing.”

He gave a stiff nod, walking over to you, and offering his hand, which you looked over once, and hesitantly took, before he led you away. You were terribly out of place in that fancy event, anyway, it was better that he led you somewhere where you wouldn’t embarrass yourself.

He led you down, through the halls, your heels clicking loudly against the flooring, your hand against his. As soon as you were far enough away that no one would hear you, he whirled to look at you.

“Are you insane? He could have you executed for injuring his pride, let alone his body!”

He hissed, and you yanked your hand out of his, using your stained clothing to wipe whatever remained of the unshed tears in your eyes.

“No, he can’t.”

His brows furrowed at that, one hand on his hip as he gave you a look that was definitely questioning your intellect. You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your hand in a manner he’d seen his father do many times before.

“My mother is a grand duchess.”

Oh.

Your mother being a duchess meant that you were much higher status than whatever that random male had been, and could easily have him executed for that. In fact, it made you nearly in the same status as Eris himself.

He felt his cheeks heating as you stared at him, now a bit more defiantly, raising one brow.

“Well? Are we going to get me fresh clothing, or not?”

He gave you a look but began walking again anyway.

“Why haven’t I seen you before at any of the events?”

He asked, eyes glancing over at you for any hint of body language giving something away. You were fidgeting again, probably not fond of his topic. Too easy to read, it was a shame.

“My father. He died shortly after I was born, and with my mother becoming a widow and taking her years of silence, well, it didn’t leave much opportunity for me to go anywhere.”

He took that in with a simple hum, turning left sharply and subtly rolling his eyes when he saw you stumble a bit, clearly not used to having to wear heels. Of course, ever the gentleman he was, he caught you by the arm and steadied you, continuing to walk.

“How do you do that?”

You asked, a small frown on your lips.

“Do what?”

He asked, brows raised.

“Walk in these awful shoes.”

It caught him off guard, he’d admit, and he nearly choked on his own spit.

“You’ve never undergone training?”

You gave him a look like he was insane, and as if you were very worried.

“You have?”

He blinked, stopping for a moment, just staring at you. You hadn’t undergone any sort of royal training at all, in etiquette, how to host a guest, how to be a good host, how to be proper and polite, any of it?

“Oh, my.”

He said, shaking his head as he continued to walk down the halls, now taking a right. He’d admit, the palace halls seemed longer when he had the equivalent of a bull in a china shop walking beside him.

“Wait, hold on, what do you mean training?”

You questioned, now trying to walk faster to keep up with his frenzied pace as he made his way to a now nearby dressing room.

“Every royal gets some form of training in proper etiquette and behavior, or at least every royal should.”

He spoke, finally reaching a set of doors he pushed open, only to reveal a room full of dresses and gowns of all sizes and styles, all in Autumn Court colors.

“But I suppose, with your mother grieving, and no available relatives…”

You seemed to catch on, finishing the sentence for him.

“I never got it.”

He nodded, before sighing and gesturing to the room of dresses. Your eyes widened, walking between the rows and letting your hand drift down them all, feeling the fabrics and silks in a way that made him cringe.

“Careful with those. The oils on your hands can damage some of the material.”

He said, walking over to one of the dresses you’d touched, carefully examining it as if to make sure nothing was wrong with it.

“How am I supposed to choose between these?”

You asked, and he gave you yet another look.

“Just pick something out, and hurry with it. Cauldron knows what sort of gossip will catch flame if we’re both gone too long.”

You swallowed, cheeks heating at what he was implying, as your eyes roved over the hundreds of items of clothing. It took you a few minutes before you found your size range, where you then finally picked one out. You heard a muttered ‘Finally.’ from Eris as you went behind a small curtain to change.

The top of the dress was almost like a corset, cutting off in a straight line and covering most of your chest, with the bottom half being flowing orange that almost looked like a living flame. The sleeves were similar to the flowing bottom, attaching via strands of fabric tied into ribbons.

It was the most covering thing you could find in the closet in your size.

“Eris?”

“What.”

“Can you..help me tie this up?”

An exasperated sigh reached your ears from outside the dressing room before the curtain was very carefully pulled back. The back of the dress had plenty of complicated strings that you didn’t know how to tie up correctly, thanks to your apparent lack of education in royal-things.

Before you knew it, deft hands were pulling back the laces and carefully tying.

“You’re lucky I know how to do this, you know.”

“Clearly.”

A pause, before your brain caught up to your mouth and you raised a brow, still not daring to glance back at him.

“Why do you know how to do this?”

You could already see the stale look he would probably be giving you, not too polite for the High Lord’s supposedly best-behaved son, if rumor had it right.

“My mother used to ask me for help after delivering my younger brother.”

“Huh.”

He finished the lacing, tying it just a bit too tightly, and you made sure to let him know by elbowing him in the ribs. He gave a muffled groan, huffing.

“They’re going to eat you alive in this Court.”

He mumbled, and you scoffed, turning around to face him.

“And I’m surprised they haven’t eaten you alive already, with how subservient you are.”

You spat back, and he paused for a moment. Maybe, just maybe, you were a fraction right. The tiniest amount right.

“How about we make a deal?”

You raised a brow, none the wiser to what he was already scheming and plotting.

“I’m listening.”

He steadied himself, pulling the curtain back to fully conceal the both of you. Also to conceal your voices from anyone trying to listen in.

“You need to learn proper Court etiquette, I need to learn how to not be…’ subservient’, as you call it. Why don’t we both assist each other and make our immortal lives a bit easier?”

You warily eyed him up and down, clearly skeptical of his real intentions, but nonetheless, stuck out a hand.

“Sure. I can agree to that, princeling.”

He scowled, but his hand shook yours anyway.

“Good. Our first order of business is the ball’s dance that will be happening around…”

He peeked out of the curtain, now opening it, looking at a clock.

“Now.”

“This is ridiculous.”

You huffed, the dress flowing gently as the red-headed male swayed you about, and that was when you weren’t tripping over your own feet. Which was very rare.

“You need to move to the violin, like this,”

His feet moved in a steady rhythm that the rest of his body somehow managed to move along with. A manner you couldn’t get down, no matter what. Your body refused to cooperate with whatever your head tried to make it do, the violin sounded like nothing short of simple music to you, and you couldn’t get a rhythm out of it.

He sighed, giving you a look of disappointed pity that only served to further increase your temper, stoking the flames higher and higher. You grabbed his collar, yanking him closer to more efficiently yell in a hushed tone.

“Listen here, princeling-“

“Am I interrupting something?”

A silky voice intercepted your angry one, and you raised a brow, letting go of Eris’ clothing in favor of putting one hand on your hip in a clear manner of irritation, and Eris proceeded to smoothly move that hand back over to his body, to make it seem like you two were simply having a junior dance like many of the younger royal’s children were forced to do.

“No, not at all.”

Eris replied, face set in a polite mask, even as the female, dressed skimpily even for a royal, stepped in closer, leaning in. It only served to remind you of the male you’d stomped on earlier.

“Then may I have a dance?”

She said, offering a hand to the princeling, skillfully ignoring you. Somehow sensing the fact that you were going to say something stupid and regret it later, he shot you a look that made you bite your tongue. He hesitated, glancing between you and her for a second too long before you jabbed the heel of your foot into his ankle.

A hint of pain and annoyance flashed in his russet eyes before he gave a tight-lipped smile to the woman.

“No, thank you.”

He replied, and her sultry smile dropped as she made a small ‘hmph’ sound, striding away to whatever other male would have her.

“We should’ve made this bargain earlier, princeling, it’s quite fun making you reject pretty females.”

You said, a roguish grin gracing your face that revealed the menace you were behind the wall of shyness that often separated you from the other regal higher-ups. His lip twitched in irritation, but he didn’t scowl, not in front of everyone else at the ball. Not when he didn’t know who was looking.

“Just wait for your turn.”

He muttered, and you winced, already imagining what horrible things he would force you to do. The dances were bad enough, and this wasn’t even a lesson. And all of the proper etiquette…it was going to be a nightmare.

When he smirked at your wince, it was only then that you realized giving a snake its fangs wasn’t the greatest idea, not when you didn’t know where its loyalties lied.

#writers on tumblr #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #eris x you #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris fanfic #erisweek2024

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