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theveryworstthing · 4 years

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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ramzawrites · 4 years

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Rivals - Prince!Reader x Prince!Eret

Male

Pairings: Eret x Reader

Characters included: Eret

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request from 🌱🌟 my beloved <3 /p

Summary: Prince Y/N and Prince Eret hated each other. That was just a fact. Mostly causing trouble together in order to one up the other. Though over the time even their relationship can change.

Words count: 5367

Authors Note: I’ll be honest you hit me with this request at a very good time so I ended up writing 10 pages in one go haha

At the end I made the executive decision to finally cut it off or I probably would have written even more, for which I’m honestly don’t have the time at the moment. I hope it’s not that obvious but if it is I apologize.

Thank you for the request 🌱🌟

I am reposting it since the original post doesn’t seem to appear in the tags no need to check the original post but I wanted to give a reason why it’s twice on my blog

Prince Eret and Prince Y/N hated each other.

That was just a universally accepted thing and something that made sense. Just like how water is wet, the ground was made out of dirt, Eret and Y/N hated each other.

Both of their respecting kingdoms never had a good relationship to say the least. Way back in the day the two nations have wared against each other which almost ruined both kingdoms forcing the two to an act of neutrality with the behest of the neighboring kingdoms.

Though this was way off in the past. Nowadays they had rebuilt. Their forces and monetary situation stood strong but they stayed neutral. Eyeing each other closely for any slip ups, though they were also bound to contracts that would involve other nations as well should they begin to go to war again, which wasn’t in interest for both parties.

So they tried to mostly ignore each other which only worked to an extent. If you are a strong nation with an impressive military force or with a lot of money, other nations will invite you to their balls, banquets or whatever fancy party they have going at that point. And it was in your best interest to join these as well, to show off your might, wealth or to connect with other foreign powers.

The first time Y/N’s family took him with them to one of these balls, he was barely six years old.

For a six year old a ball was a boring affair. All the adults were courteously laughing and only sipping on their drinks. Occasionally walking on the stage to dance to the slow and boring music.

Y/N was busy watching two older women dance in tandem. Their dresses and silk moving together in a sea of fabric that seemed to hypnotized the child as he sat on the side of the stage. His parents were off somewhere else, feeling they could trust enough in his proper upbringing to not cause any problems, that they left him. Saying that he should try to enjoy himself.

Enjoy himself how? Dance with the lonely grandma that was busy drinking away all the wine in the castle? No, thank you.

Finally tearing his eyes off the dancing women Y/N noticed how someone else was cautiously approaching him. It was another kid in what he assumed was his age. This stranger had fluffy wild hair and had a sympathetic smile on his face. He wore a simple suit similar to Y/N’s but there were a ton of differences in details.

As he got closer Y/N could swear that something seemed off about him. Something in him was screaming but he couldn’t place why he felt like that.

“Hello.” The other kid greeted Y/N.

Y/N looked around the room for a second before setting his attention back on him “Hello. Who are you?” There was a small hope in him, hey maybe this boring ball won’t be so boring after all.

With a proud expression the kid did a proper royal greeting, bowing in front of Y/N for a second “I am Prince Eret from the mighty nation of-“

But Y/N interrupted him “Prince Eret?! I know of you! My parents warned me and told me to ignore you.” He then stuck his tongue out and made a point to look away from him.

Eret furrowed his brows, exclaiming loudly his confusion to this reaction “Huh? Why?”

Y/N rolled his eyes and got off the chair he was sitting on. Just like Eret, he did his own version of the royal greeting that he got taught by his etiquette teachers “I am Prince Y/N.”

He knew he didn’t need to say more which got confirmed by Eret’s worried and confused expression turning into a proper frown.

“Oh, yuck, so that’s what you look like.”

Y/N gasped in anger “What do you mean yuck? You are the yuck one here! Between the two of us I’m clearly the cooler prince!”

“Oh really? Prove it.” Eret huffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Now fired up Y/N looked frantically through the whole ball room but couldn’t seem to come up with anything, that was until he saw a servant of the local royal family sauntering around with a plate of drinks and even with a few cheese and meat skewers.

“I bet I could steal more of these skewers from the servants than you.”

Instead of backing down Eret now had a competitive glint in his eyes “You are on.”

And that’s how both Eret and Y/N got into their first real trouble with their parents and other nobles.

They snuck around the people, hiding behind huge skirts and trying their best to grab a skewer from the plate. At first they waited for the servant to look away while they were talking to someone but soon their maneuvers turned riskier and riskier. Jumping up to grab one or even trying to distract them before grabbing another.

At some point for whatever reason both jumped into the air at the same time, grabbing the same skewer which ended with them smashing into the servant who in return fell down, the drinks spilling onto a couple that stood closely by.

As the adults were trying to understand what just happened Y/N grabbed Eret’s arm and yelled “Run!”

The two begun running away, making their way into the garden, hiding behind a bush as they heard some adults screaming and running around.

Y/N didn’t care if Eret got caught by the adults but he was worried he might sell him out to them as well. No, he was positive he would definitely snitch on him.

Out of breath the two kids huddled together, keeping their ears open, trying to catch any sound that might come closer to them.

Eret looked at Y/N “I clearly won.” He then showed off the skewers he was holding against his suit, effectively ruining it.

Y/N shook his head, showing his own off “Nuh-uh. I clearly won.”

For some reason or another they managed to acquire the same amount of food so they sadly had to come to the conclusion that this was a tie. As they angrily begun snacking on their loot, they still continued throwing childish insults at each other.

This only lasted for a few minutes until their parents found them and figuratively tore them away to yell at them. Saying things like “this is not the proper behavior of a prince! Now we have to apologize to all the people! Do you know what this could cost us?”

From that point on their rivalry really started. Every few months they would meet up again by proxy of being invited to the same noble festivities. In fact every time Y/N was on such a party he fully expected Eret being there as well.

He would arrive and keep look out for that oh so dashing prince from the rival kingdom. Y/N scoffed, Eret wished he thought of him like that but in truth Y/N probably knew the best what kind of idiot he could be. After all he had firsthand experience for this.

While they always ended up in some sort of trouble there was this one moment, when they were twelve years old, that always stood out to him.

As usual Eret and Y/N found each other during a banquet. Both immediately fell back into arguing and making fun of each other. The adults got so tired of it that they sent the two outside so they could, in their words, cool down.

“You look ridiculous in your suit.” Eret mumbled towards Y/N as they wandered outside into the garden. Y/N just rolled his eyes as a response, choosing to ignore Eret at this point, not feeling comfortable with being banished outside together with him.

The garden was beautiful, of course.

Different kinds of flowers were planted along all the sides of the garden. Between them stood a few Willow trees with their long leaves hanging above the flowers and seating opportunities while in the middle of the whole place stood a beautiful huge pond with a statue protruding from the middle of it. The statue displayed two unidentifiable human beings holding on to each other, both holding an urn up into the air together where some water was rushing out ouf down into the pond.

While this all, together with the moon light, looked almost magical Y/N was more concentrated on what was inside the pond.

As he walked over to the water he could see a few koi fish flitting around in there. He sat down and lazily begun drawing invisible patterns into the water. Sometimes the fish would come close only to immediately swim away once they either saw the hand or felt the movement.

Eret was just standing dumbfounded to the side. Staring at Y/N which infuriated him. He could feel his dark eyes lingering on him and it just annoyed him. Eret finally shut up but now he was just standing there in uncomfortable silence.

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh “Stop doing that.”

Eret looked bewildered at that “Stop, what?”

“Staring! I can see you staring! I know I’m handsome but come on.” Y/N snickered at the last part.

This time Eret rolled his eyes “Nah, I was just thinking how easy it would be to push you into the water right now and was debating if it was worth getting into trouble for it.”

“And what did your small brain come up with?”

Eret walked over and sat down next to Y/N “It’s sadly not worth it. I feel like I would get in even more trouble than last time when I was destroying you in that food fight.”

Y/N angrily shook his head “Oh, no! I was winning! You were lucky my father literally pulled me away from you or you wouldn’t even be standing here right now!”

“You wish! Your father saved the small bit of dignity you have!”

Ignoring Eret’s attempt to obviously rile him up and make him more angry, Y/N turned now fully away from him and instead returned to watching the fish. They looked more interesting and had more personality than Eret anyhow.

It was also definitely easier to look at the animals than Eret. Every time he would look at him even only for a little bit this fuzzy anger inside the pit of Y/N’s stomach would come up and by god he hated it. Unbeknownst to him this feeling was mutual.

Eret almost seemed chuffed that Y/N didn’t seem to react and instead chose to follow him suit with watching the fish.

“If we are already stuck out here let’s make it at least interesting.” Y/N broke the silence “Let’s catch some fish. I’m betting I can catch more than you.”

Eret was already getting rid of his jacket and pushed his sleeves up “I doubt that!”

Not wasting time Y/N shed his jacket as well and rolled his sleeves up only to jump into the water himself once the fish stayed out of both their reaches due to their incessant punching into the water.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Not losing!” was all Y/N said.

Eret not feeling too keen on possibly losing, jumped into the pond as well, trying to ignore Y/N who was inadvertently splashing water his way.

As a bit of a payback Eret threw some water towards Y/N which resulted in him loosing a prime chance for trying to grab a fish.

Everything is allowed in love and war after all and this was definitely war.

Though this action led to Y/N retaliating with spraying water back on Eret. Soon the two didn’t care about the fish anymore and were too busy trying to wrestle the other under the water. It wasn’t a full blown fight, no real punches fell but there was a lot of pushing and pulling.

They only stopped once they heard a blood curdling scream. Apparently the noble who owned the garden saw them inside her pond and was obviously not too pleased with it.

Yeah, there was a lot of anger and screaming afterwards but for Y/N and Eret it just fueled their hatred toward each other. If the other one wasn’t there, then they wouldn’t have this problem in the first place but since this wasn’t the case all they could do as proper heirs to their respecting kingdoms was to make the others existence pain.

Over the years their rivalry became infamous and nobles who invited both to their festivities either tried to keep increased watch over them or to the detriment of both sides of the families, tried to incite them. Noble people where a strange lot, trying to find entertainment in the weirdest places.

Not that Y/N or Eret cared too much. They were too busy trying to screw the other over though their methods changed over the years. As kids they were more physical with it while the older they got they tended to use their words more and more to the relieve of their parents.

A good example for that was when both were about sixteen years old.

At this point they learned to rein in their anger towards the other and instead concentrated more or less on their royal duties. Well, they tried but every time they saw each other anger would just flood their systems.

It was a typical ball really. The nobles were busy mingling with each other, spreading false compliments in order to gain the political or social upper hand. Some called it an intricate game but Y/N thought it was just stupid. Just say what you think and don’t sugar coat it. That was something and maybe the only thing he and Eret could agree on. As much as he hated that guy he wasn’t scared to tell Y/N what he thought of him.

He appreciated him for that. A shiver ran down his spine as soon as that thought crossed his mind and Y/N just shoved it away. Never in his life would he actually appreciate that mad prince.

That said it was a bit weird how he hasn’t spotted Eret yet. Not that he was specifically looking out for him or anything. He just wanted to be aware where he was so he could avoid him. Was he invited? His family was here but he seemed to be gone. Maybe he finally gave up trying to one up Y/N and stayed home.

Y/N doubted that though. The only reason why Eret wouldn’t appear to something like this was if he was seriously sick. It happened only once and Y/N ended up being bored to death. So what if he derived entertainment from his rival? That’s a part of the reason what rivalries are for, right?

Spending so much time thinking about him made Y/N uncomfortable. This one feeling in the pit of his stomach just flared up again which he didn’t appreciate one bit. Just another reason why Eret was so annoying. He was the only person this happened with.

Bored out of his mind Y/N begun moving through the ball room. There was one place Eret could be hiding away at. If anything Y/N could predict some behavior from him over the years. Making sure to stay away from all the dancing people and the conversations, not feeling interested to take part in it. Instead he moved towards the gardens.

It was just the place he and Eret would default to since at the slightest chance of trouble the other nobles liked to throw them out immediately.

So when he spotted Eret walking around the rose bushes it didn’t completely surprise him.

“And here I thought I spied a birds nest in between the bushes but alas it is just Eret’s hair.”

Eret visibly flinched once he heard Y/N. Apparently he had been so busy with his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Y/N approaching him. He frowned at the other prince while he in return was just smirking smugly.

Sighing Eret walked over to a particular big rose and begun inspecting it“ And I thought I would finally be free of you. You arrived late, huh?”

“Hardly my fault, though I too was hoping you finally conceded and stayed home but here you are just staring at some roses like some hopeless romantic prince from some sort of fairy tale.”

When Eret didn’t immediately fire back and hesitated Y/N’s eyes widened “No! Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me you actually have a crush on someone! Who is the poor person?”

As he spoke the words out loud it felt like his chest was ablaze. Something about that thought rubbed him the wrong way. He just labelled it as a different way for his annoyance towards Eret to show up but it confused him nonetheless.

Realistically what did he care about his love affairs?

Finally Eret vehemently shook his head “No, nothing like that! Why was this where your mind went? I was just bored and am looking at the flowers. Even you can admit that they are pretty, right?” Eret chuckled “Or are you jealous somehow?”

“Only in your dreams.” Y/N responded with a disgusted expression on his face.

“Nightmares you mean.” Eret added before pulling one rose out of the bush.

Y/N looked around hoping none of the staff or someone else saw this “Dude, what the hell are you doing? If you get into trouble for stealing flowers and I’m around everyone will think I’m part of this.”

“They won’t notice, Y/N. Well, they will only notice it if you aren’t careful enough. You need to have an eye for such things and me begrudgingly knowing you as well as I do, you do not have an eye for that.”

This is always how it happens. Every god damn time. One of the two would make a statement that the other person couldn’t do a very specific thing and all bets were off.

A dangerous glint appeared in Y/N’s eyes “I’ll give you the most amazing rose bouquet without tipping anyone off.” He didn’t seem to realize what he just said but Eret did.

While Y/N turned around in order to scour out the place Eret was still standing in the back. A soft blush on his face. Almost angry with himself he frowned and turned to the opposite direction Y/N just went. He was just so frustrating to be around. Doesn’t even think before he speaks.

This whole endeavor took longer than both initially expected. Most of the time they would just saunter between the bushes only occasionally plucking a flower off. Often enough the two stood in front of the same rose, trying to act as fast as possible to get it before the other.

Eret clearly went for the flower first but once his hand touched the stem of the rose, Y/N was there as well, his hand brushing past Eret’s, holding onto the lower part of the stem.

“You’ve got be kidding me.” Y/N cursed.

Eret squinted his eyes as he looked at him “What do you mean? I went for it first! You still continued grabbing it like the brute you are!”

Y/N gasped in a fake display of disbelief. Acting like the biggest insult just got hurled towards him when in fact Eret has said worse things before or even the countless nobles who suffered damages due to their shenanigans.

Both stared at each other, not letting go off the rose. Their brows furrowed into deep scowls as they just continued staring at each other. Hoping that for some reason any kind of weakness would just magically appear or that someone will let go off the damn flower.

It was incredibly uncomfortable for the both of them. Y/N and Eret both stared directly into each other’s eyes. Pink dusted faces turned towards one another, not daring to move a muscle.

“God, I hate you so much.” Y/N grumbled.

Eret nodded “Believe me the feeling is mutual.”

After a few more seconds of staring and angry expressions they both let go at the same time.

There they stood. Two princes of enemy kingdoms holding each a small bouquet of roses with blushing faces.

If you would ask them about it they would immediately exclaim the blush was just a result of their anger bubbling out.

Eret let out a breath he didn’t notice he was holding “Tie?”

Y/N looked down at his own bouquet “Yeah, sure, let’s call it a tie. This is stupid anyhow.”

That was the last time they saw each other for a while.

Since they both were heirs to their respective thrones they soon got sent away to boarding schools in order to get properly trained for their future duties. Besides being educated and introduced what these duties actually entailed, they also got trained in the art of combat.

While most of, if not all, nobles learn how to fight it was something expected from Y/N and Eret. They had to get good at it. A tradition that still stemmed from the waring days of their competing nations.

So for the next four years Y/N was sent away to a boarding school inside his own nation, only later hearing that Eret befell the same fate, which didn’t surprise him.

The years dragged on rather slowly. Most of the subjects were boring but Y/N realized they were important so he put himself through the grueling task of proper studying. The daily training sessions helped him immensely by bringing some sort of change to his every day and tended to look forward to them. Mostly since he became good friends with his coach. A mercenary hired by his family to train him.

Becoming a friend to him, while others tried stay away from Y/N. Most didn’t dare to approach the only heir of their kingdom, others knew he was a bit of a troublemaker and stayed away from him because of it.

Y/N caught himself missing Eret from time to time. While he was annoying and infuriating at best, Y/N couldn’t help but think it was more enjoyable than spending his time alone surrounded by people around his age.

Every now and again his thoughts would always jump back to Eret. Hell, he even once considered writing him a letter before he stopped in his tracks, realizing what he was about to do. Silently chastising himself for it.

Y/N graduated when he was twenty. His parents amazed by his progress threw compliments towards his improved behavior.

“Guess Prince Eret was the problem all along.” His mother noted.

He scoffed, of course Eret was the majority of the reason for the problems. His mother only needed to mention him and Y/N already felt the same annoyance from back then again. Guess some things never change.

It was the time for a lot of nobles to graduate so one family took it up on themselves to prepare a grand ball in order to celebrate these young adults. It also helped to bring all the heirs and influential people together to form new relationships that could be beneficial for their future rule.

Y/N got invited as well.

As a graduation gift his parents bought him fancy new clothes made out of the finest cloth. While he thought it was a bit over the top, it was comfortable so he didn’t complain too much. They even fashioned him with a ceremonial crown that complimented the whole outfit quite nicely.

It was only then that it really sunk in what this all meant for him. He had to act proper no matter what from now on. While people were always aware of him, now they were really watching. This also meant he had to start to properly get into contact with other influential families and nations which meant he had to actually dance on this ball.

So when he and his family stepped out of the wagon that brough them to this event, his heart was beating fast. Y/N was nervous and yet he still managed to put on a confident smile. He didn’t go through all these etiquette classes without learning a few things at least.

When he walked into the ball room, a servant announced his and his families arrival which caused a lot of people to turn their heads. It was the first official outing of an heir to an incredibly strong nation, of course they wanted to see what he was like.

In fact it didn’t take long until Y/N got swarmed by multiple people talking courteously and making conversation with him. He returned the gestures and mingled with the others, curious to see if anyone interesting was here. It was the first time in a long time people didn’t seem to avoid him, even if it was purely for the purpose of forming new beneficial connections.

It beat sitting around alone.

Y/N slowly scanned the huge room with his eyes that’s when he spied something that made his heart figuratively jump into his throat.

In the corner stood someone tall with a shock of brown and fluffy hair that got pushed down by a crown. He wore an amazing suit made out of silk and with a variant of different purples completed with something that resembled a cape. As he talked to the person in front of him he had this huge, genuine, beautiful smile on his face that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

He was handsome that’s all he could say about him. Knocking all the air out of Y/N’s lungs.

Pressing his hand against his madly blushing face Y/N tried to look like he was deep in thought and not just silently checking out this one person way off in the corner.

“Be still my beating heart.” Y/N mumbled as he pressed his free hand on his chest. Feeling his heart beating fast and hard against his ribcage. Luckily no one heard him but he did receive a few worried and confused looks. Guess he wasn’t as sneaky about his display of emotions as he had thought.

Y/N took a deep breath in and coughed in order to calm himself down a bit “I’m sorry to interrupt you all, but I need to go. I need to find something out. It was an honor talking with you and I hope we can continue this later on.”

With all the confidence he didn’t have Y/N slowly made his way towards that person. Something was just pulling him towards him and he needed to at least know his name. It was like his heart and mind both yelled at Y/N.

While walking he could tell that his breath was short. He felt hot and he was certain that his face was still in a lovely shade of red.

Did he just develop a probably one sided crush? Perhaps.

Once he got close enough, he begun to tremble. His knees felt weak and by god he wanted to turn around but something in him just forced him to move on. As if this was his only chance to ever exchange even a word with that stranger.

Y/N was about to put on a polite smile and wave towards him but the stranger was faster and turned towards him.

The stranger audibly and unmistakably gasped. His eyes wide open as his face suddenly turned into a similar shade of red to Y/N.

“Hello.” Y/N begun speaking. He wanted to introduce himself but his voice failed him. Throat and lips dry out of nervousness.

“Y/N?” he spoke with a deep, soothing voice and Y/N had to admit he liked hearing his name coming out of his mouth.

Wait that handsome stranger knew him?

That’s when it hit him. But that can’t be! That was impossible, he would have recognized him immediately!

“Oh. Eret?”

Y/N put his hand against his mouth trying to hide the smile and blush. Why was he feeling like this? Why wasn’t his typical white anger returning? He still had that fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach but something felt different. Maybe it was the maturity from the years or maybe he just imagined it.

Eret was madly blushing and just staring at Y/N as he slowly lifted up his trembling hand “Let’s talk. Would you care for a dance?”

That feeling in his stomach increased as well as the beating of his heart and yet Y/N put his hand into that of Eret’s. Together they walked towards the middle of the room. Slowly beginning to dance.

Y/N was at this point biting his lip. He wanted to talk, say anything but his mind was running in overdrive. No proper sentences would form. Luckily some sort of muscle memory jumped in when it came to the dancing but everything else? No, he was completely screwed.

Why now? Why was he reacting like this?

“You look like you are doing well.” Eret suddenly spoke. His voice trembling almost as much as his hands.

Y/N nodded as he continued moving in tandem with Eret. Their feet skillfully moving around on the dance floor.

“You look good, uh, I mean, you look alright as well, you do look good but I mean you seem to be doing good as well.” After Y/N stammered that out he mentally begun cursing himself out.

He used to wrestle Eret into the mud, why is this happening to him? Why can’t he just go back to his anger, that was easier to deal with. Wait, is that the reason why their anger towards each other held on for so long? Sure, their families had always a rivalry but over time something must have subtly changed concerning their relationship that it managed to end up like this.

Y/N felt like a lovesick pre-teen and he hated it.

Eret suddenly let out a short laugh “I’m guessing you didn’t expect this as well?”

Y/N raised his eyebrows “I- I have no idea what you mean. Like, seriously, what exactly of this do you mean?” Of course his nervousness showed itself via him ranting his thoughts off.

“Us meeting like this again.”

“Seeing our past track record I feel like it was inevitable, though this time it certainly does feel different.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Eret smirked and gave Y/N a wink only to end up turning back into a blushing mess himself.

Now Y/N begun to chuckle, his blush ever present on his face, he pressed his forehead against Eret’s shoulder. Trying his best to hide his face from his view, not willing to give Eret the satisfaction that he succeeded in whatever the hell he just did.

Instead of stopping the two continued to dutifully dance. The best way for a private conversation was while dancing after all but the two were too busy snickering at themselves.

While Y/N had his head still pressed against Eret, Eret spoke up “I’m glad you are here, Y/N. Meeting you here like that again after these years, it made me realize something.”

“Like what?” The same was true of him, of course but he was almost scared of saying it out loud.

Y/N looked back up again but Eret hesitated. His eyes landed on Y/N’s lips only to immediately snap back up to his eyes.

So when he asked “May I?” Y/N knew exactly what he meant.

He gave him a nod which resulted in the two stopping to dance. Eret placed one of his hands against Y/N’s jawline and the other continued to rest at his side as he closed the space between their lips. At first softly brushing their lips for a small second but then Eret went back in pressing his lips properly on Y/N’s only to separate after a few moments.

Y/N put his hands on Eret’s chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart beneath his fingertips “I thought you hated me.” He noted smugly.

Eret laughed “I guess we both were wrong in some way.” He immediately dove back into Y/N’s lips, deepening the kiss, ignoring the confused and surprised noises from all the other guests.

541 notes · View notes

theotherackerman · 2 years

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Summary:

BEACH READ ROMCOM AU

Eren Jaeger is not having the life he thought he would. His engagement ended. His father died. He found out his father had a son in high school, meaning Eren has an older brother out there. He also found out that Grisha continued the affair while Carla knew all about it. Grisha also left Eren this strange cabin in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Now Eren has to leave his life in New York city and return to a small town in the Midwest, 2 hours away from his hometown.

His novel continues to not be able to beat his old college’s rival, Mikasa Ackerman on the charts. She’s a literary success and he’s just a romance novel writer. It turns out she’s living in the cabin right next door to the cabin Grisha left Eren.

The two of them never had much in common. They were always exact opposites. Through chance meetings, they realize they do have one thing in common, they both had horrible writer’s block. So they make a bet. They’ll switch genres. Mikasa will write romance and Eren will write “the depressing emo shit” that Mikasa writes. They’ll teach other the ways of both which means cheesy dates and exploring a haunted factory. Whoever wins will promote the other’s book. Simple enough. What could possibly go wrong?

RATING: MATURE

Ships: Eren x Mikasa, Levi x Hange, Past Eren X Carly Stratmann, Past Mikasa x Porco, Dina x Grisha, Carla x Grisha, Pieck x Jean

NOTES: This was called Beach Read but I changed the name. This fic will also have social media posts and texts incorporated into it.

CHAPTER ONE:

Eren looked around the cabin.

He still couldn't believe it.

His dad had cheated on his mom.

The same parent who used to dance around the kitchen to Stevie Nicks and get all dressed up for no reason other than the fact they loved each other.

They had been goals.

They had been what Eren thought his life would be.

That was the whole reason why he had dated Carly Stratmann.

Carly had been perfect.

She was good looking, she was smart. They had met at the same age as his parents did in college. They were perfect. She took him to France for their first anniversary. They went skiing in the alps one Christmas. It had all looked so beautiful on her Instagram.

Then his father died from a stroke.

Father.

Sounded better than Dad.

Because Dad wouldn’t cheat on Mom especially not when she had fucking cancer. He couldn’t even figure out how he had cheated on her. He had been there for every appointment, every moment of Mom’s cancer.

Eren dropped her bags on the floor in the living room.

His life was a fucking wreck.

Carly had dumped him about three months ago.

“I can’t do this anymore, Eren! You’re not yourself!” she had exclaimed as she began to move out of their New York City apartment.

“I’m sorry,” Eren choked back the tears. “I’m just…I’ve never been sunshine all the time. You know that.”

“Yeah, well now you’re nothing. You don’t even care. You don’t even write. Isn’t your book due in a few months? When was the last time we have had sex? When was the last time you wanted to?”

“My father just died of a stroke!”

“Almost six months ago!”

“I didn’t know grieving had a time limit!”

“Do you even love me, Eren? Truly?”

The words just sat in Eren’s throat.

He couldn’t answer.

He didn’t have an answer.

He had loved her at one point or maybe he only loved the idea of it.

He sat on the floor of the cabin. He didn’t dare go upstairs and look to see what the master bedroom looked like.

Dina Fritz.

The name was stuck in his head.

The name of the woman who had come up to him at the funeral with the letter, the address, and the key to this very cabin.

If that wasn’t bad enough, apparently Grisha had a child with this woman when they were in high school.

Eren had an older brother.

It was all too much.

Music could be heard from the cabin next door. There was bad singing echoing.

Great.

Just what he wanted to hear right now.

He couldn't be mad. It was a Saturday in the summer. Besides, just because he was miserable didn't mean the rest of the world had to be.

Eren sighed to himself as he walked out the back door. He might as well see what the back of the cabin looked like.

There was a path lined with little small lanterns that were staked to the ground. It looked as if the path led to the beach of some lake.

"It's open to either cabin. Private entrance to the lake," the voice came from the back deck of the other cabin. A woman who Eren couldn't see. There was just the red glow of a cigarette on her hand.

"Oh. I had no idea," Eren said simply.

"Most people don't."

"Did you know the last owners well?"

Eren secretly hoped that this woman did. Maybe she could tell him some horrible thing about Grisha to make this whole thing make sense.

"No. I'm a writer, I keep to myself."

A writer.

Like him.

Eren had yet to reach the top ten of the best sellers list. He was firmly at number fifteen and his college crush was firmly at number ten.

Mikasa Ackerman.

She always wrote what Eren called sad emo novels.

Always about how dark and awful the world was and yet she sold more copies.

Maybe it was because Eren was a romance writer. The market was still there. He didn't want to defend to this writer why romance was his favorite genre to write.

Mikasa had looked at one of his pieces in college and just stared at him.

"Do they always end in a happy ending?" She had asked him in their creative writing class.

"Well…yeah. I mean the world is already bad enough. Why not create a happy ending?" He had argued.

Mikasa had just stared at him.

Eren later heard from his best friend Armin that Mikasa had called him a fairy tale prince. From that, Eren had decided that Mikasa was his rival. One day, he would beat her at writing. One day he would sell more copies than her.

Sadly, it hadn't been his last book.

Now his editor Pieck was on his ass because he hasn't written anything new. He had until the first of September to write something for it to be published.

He desperately needed the money. It was the reason why he had come here. He wanted to sell what was left of his dad's stuff and have a place to live rent free. He could then use that money to get an apartment somewhere until he sold his next book.

Hopefully.

But right now, those happy endings that were known to come to him weren't. He was miserable.

The singing continued. The woman groaned.

"If you hate it, why is the party here?" Eren finally asked her.

"Because…..because it is. I'm not going to argue with them. It's not worth it. Besides, they'll be gone tomorrow and I'll be back to being on my own."

That sounded depressing.

"Should you be telling me you're going to be on your own? I could be an axe murder."

The woman laughed. It was familiar but he couldn't place it. "I know you're not an axe murderer. They'll be out of here in an hour. You should get some sleep. You look…"

"Like shit?"

"I was going to say exhausted."

Eren laughed. "No, it's fine. I know I do. I drove for a long time today."

"Well. Have a good night."

He saw the cigarette fall to the ground and be stepped on. Next the woman disappeared into her house. Eren decided to do the same. He locked the back door and collapsed on the couch.

Grisha had a bad back injury and due to that, Eren knew there was no way his father had sex on the too low of a couch.

So he would sleep here tonight and figure the rest out in the morning.

—-

Every year on Mikasa's divorce Sasha threw this stupid big party.

Mikasa had moved to the middle of nowhere so she didn't have to think of her ex husband. The thoughts still came. So Sasha threw a party and Mikasa pretended to care about it.

But tonight had brought something interesting next door.

Well someone.

Eren Jaeger.

She hadn't seen him since college but she had read all of his books. In fact, they sat on the top shelf of her bookshelf.

Mikasa had had a huge crush on Eren for all of college and desperately tried to get him to notice her. They often got paired up in their creative writing classes.

Their styles could not have been more different. Eren had been someone who knew exactly who he was, what he wanted to do. He wrote stories with happy endings. Romance stories that weren't like the typical male author romance. The female characters were relatable and he got the biology write. She'd read enough romance novels to know a bad one. If she had to hear a male author speak about ovaries quaking during sex one more time, she was going to scream.

She had given him shit back then for his happy endings. Maybe it was because of all the bad things that happened to her. Mikasa didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel no matter how badly she wanted to.

Which is why her marriage had failed.

She shouldn't have gotten married. She thought about it everyday. What a regret.

But now Eren had moved in next door.

There had been a moment at a house party that she would never forget.

They had met on the dance floor. He had come up behind her. She had felt him behind her. He had put one hand on her waist while she continued to move to the beat. The spot where his hand rested on her waist felt like it was on fire.

She could hear him breathing. She could feel him through his jeans.

She had never wanted anyone more in that moment.

"You're beautiful," he said to her.

She looked up into those green eyes and that was it. She was in love with him.

But the party ended up getting raided by police and they never spoke about it.

She always wondered what would have happened if the cops hadn't shown up.

She knew what she wanted to happen.

She knew exactly where they would have ended up. Either in his bed or hers.

Frankly, it didn't matter to her.

The party cleared out pretty quickly when Mikasa came inside. The annoyed look on her face and smell of cigarette smoke told everyone what they needed to know.

When Mikasa climbed into bed that night, she couldn't get Eren Jaeger off of her mind.

—-

Mikasa woke up to her cell phone ringing at full volume.

Too.

Fucking.

Loud.

She brushed her bangs out of her face.

"Hello?" She said into the phone.

"It's one in the afternoon and you're still asleep? You're not working on the book? The book that is due for publication in September?!” Jean's voice grated through the phone.

Some days, she really hated him.

"It'll be done. I've never let you down."

"I know. And I called to tell you they want you posting on social media again."

Mikasa sighed. She never did anything interesting enough to post.

"Are you doing okay?" Jean asked.

"I'm fine."

"I just know with the anniversary of the divorce between you and…"

"It was bound to happen."

"Still doesn't make it easy."

"I'm fine. I'm actually going to check out this haunted building for research in a few days."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do."

She ended the call and collapsed back onto her bed.

She hadn't been able to tell Jean the truth. She'd had writer's block for weeks now.

What was she going to do?

—

Eren's neck hurt.

Sleeping on the couch had been a bad idea but he was not sleeping in any of the beds.

He didn't want to think about what Dina and Grisha had done in them.

He stumbled to the bathroom, dragging his suitcase behind him.

He quickly showered and brushed his teeth before pulling his hair up on top of his head.

His mom had tried to get him to cut it. He hadn't cut it since Grisha had died. He didn't see the point. The man he had looked up to for so many years….the relationship that had defined his books, the romance. It was all a fucking lie.

He stared in the mirror, seeing parts of his father staring back. It was bad enough that his dad had an affair but a kid too?

Zeke.

His older half brother.

Apparently, he was a top surgeon at the local hospital. He could have moved anywhere but he chose to stay close to home.

Eren had run to another state and then an even further state after college.

He had wanted nothing more than to take on the world.

He wondered if he should have stayed closer.

He had flown back so many times when his mom had been getting treatment for cancer the second time. He had spent every moment he possibly could with her. Grisha seemed to do the same. He did have to travel for work….

It hadn't been for work.

It had been to see Dina.

Eren slammed the bathroom door behind him.

His mom had been so close to dying and his dad took off to see another woman.

Who did that?

Who saw someone suffering and thought I want to fuck someone else?

Apparently, Grisha had.

And the worst part?

Carla had known.

About all of it.

About Dina.

About Zeke.

And she had just left Eren in the dark.

He angrily put on his clothes which probably looked as dumb as he felt doing so.

He needed to go into town, get some groceries, and see if there were any bookstores. Pieck always said that small bookstores and book clubs were what sold his books.

He sighed as he pulled out his phone and looked up the closest grocery store. It looked like there was one bookstore in town. Privately owned. Well, that was good.

He could stop by before he got groceries. He had a plan.

—--

Mikasa's hand was starting to cramp.

"Are you really selling these or is Kenny just giving them out to whoever he sees?" Mikasa asked her cousin as he dropped another stack of books in front of her to sign.

Their uncle Kenny was very proud of Mikasa making it into the top ten best sellers. He told anyone who would listen about it.

"They actually sell," Petra said from behind the register. "Are you ever going to do a series or just standalones?"

Mikasa shrugged. She hadn't thought of a series. She liked to write whatever she could. That was probably why she was all over the place with her genres.

The only thing she couldn't write?

Romance.

"That would require her to not kill everyone in the end," Levi replied as he walked away from the table.

"Hey! Not everyone died in my last book!" Mikasa argued as she stood up and stretched.

"The woman driving away after avenging her family and having no one left, no money, it's not a happy ending," Levi said as he grabbed the broom from behind the counter.

"Life isn't happy," Mikasa argued.

"You know I thought when you stopped wearing all that goth shit in college that you'd be a little more positive later in life."

"HEY!"

"You can't keep living with regrets, Mikasa. You've been dealt some bad cards but you can't blame the world forever."

Mikasa scoffed.

"Dead parents, divorce, those are two seriously bad cards, Levi. Give the girl a break," Petra argued as she sat on the counter.

Levi poked her with the broom.

Petra jumped down and rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to get coffee," Mikasa said before walking out of the bookstore.

She needed to clear her mind.

—-----

Eren parked in the very small parking lot behind the bookstore.

The bell above the door rang once he walked it.

"Hello!" The woman behind the counter smiled and waved. "How can I help you today?"

Eren immediately noticed the stack of books on the counter.

It was Mikasa's book, To the Boy who Craved Freedom, Goodbye. Eren had yet to buy or read either of her books. He knew they existed as they constantly out did his on the bestsellers list.

"I'm…I'm a writer. I'm staying at a cabin a little bit north of here. I just wanted to pop in and say hello," he explained.

"Really? Let me get the owner. I'm Petra," she smiled at Eren. "LEVI! WE'VE GOT ANOTHER WRITER HERE! THINK HANGE WILL WANT HIM FOR THEIR BOOK CLUB?"

Well, this was going to be easier than Eren thought.

"He should be out in a minute. Feel free to browse around," Petra smiled.

Eren nodded before he began to do just that. He noticed on an end cap of one the aisles was Mikasa's other book, Small Blade. That had outsold his debut book as well. He picked the book up before setting back down on the shelf.

Nope. He wasn't going there. He wasn't going to think about the girl who constantly critiqued his work. He wouldn't think of that night of dancing until the party got broken up by cops. He would not think about it.

The bell on the door rang again as Eren moved through the store.

"You Eren?" A short man asked Eren.

He was intimidating. There was just something about this man that made Eren fear for his life. Maybe it was the scar on his face.

"Yes, sir. I'm Eren Jaeger. I'm a romance writer and uh…"

"Ah. You want to do a talk or something?"

"Yes, sir. If it's not too troubling, of course."

"I'll have to order more of your books."

Eren didn't know why that statement surprised him. He was a best seller and this was a bookstore.

"There's a talk coming up in a month. Our resident author will be here. If you don't mind sharing the spotlight."

"That sounds great, actually."

"Let me get the exact date from up front."

Eren nodded as he followed Levi. As they walked to the front, Eren saw her.

Her hair was shorter than it was in college. It was cut into a pixie cut.

"Brat! Say hello. He's going to do the talk with you."

"I'm not ten anymore, Levi. You can't…." Mikasa trailed off as she looked up from the book she was signing.

"Hi," Eren said simply.

"Eren?" Mikasa asked as she put her pen down.

"Yeah. I'm surprised you remember me," he touched the back of his neck as he looked down.

"He's staying at a cabin up north of here. Is it the empty one by you?" Petra asked from her spot behind the counter.

"Oh I don't…."

"Yeah, I thought it was you last night."

It had been Mikasa he had talked to last night.

#emotional kaleidoscope #my writing

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wandering-travesty · 3 years

Text

Call Me By Your Name

You weren’t sleezy. That was just a word idiots used to try and pull you down to their level. Yes, your hair was slicked back. Yes, your eyeshadow was dark as the night. Yes, your suit jacket barely covered your chest. Yes, your nails were painted black and sharp as daggers. But, no, you weren’t sleezy. You were dressed for your job. What was your job? Well, that was a bit more complicated….

“I need you to get close to him.” Erwin said coolly, stubble covered chin resting on his strong hands.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, genuinely hoping you had too much wax lodged in your ear canals.

“You heard him.” You met the glare of the midget standing behind your boss.

“Okay, smartass, I did. But you can’t be serious, boss! He’s beyond dangerous. Shouldn’t someone like,” you gestured in Levi’s direction, “one of the Ackermans take care of this? I’m not discounting myself or anything, but fucking with a Yeager is basically a suicide mission.” You were actually shocked Erwin asked you to do something so important. More so, dangerous. You weren’t exaggerating when you said it was a death sentence. You’d lost enough comrades to know that.

“Listen, he’s the key to taking down the Marlian Syndicate.” You knew that, but still, this seemed out of left field. “The Ackermans are strong, yes, but they lack a certain…”

“They’re not ready to whore themselves out. Just say that, Smith.” You understood now. The Ackermans were cold blooded killers ready to strike at any moment. However, they were awkward and completely inept at things like lust and heated and frankly revolting rendezvous. That was how he wanted you to get information for him.

Erwin wanted you to fuck the leader of the Marlian Syndicate.

“I wouldn’t use that wording exactly, but your assumption is correct.” Levi couldn’t seem to meet your gaze, but Erwin continued to stare straight into your soul. He was the leader of La Peste Eldienne (The Eldian Plague) for a reason. Strong, debonair, charming, and slightly insane. He could down a beer in one swig, sip a martini all night long, or abstain from alcohol completely. Whatever he needed to do, he did. He murdered, sent the idiotic young and the hopeless old to their deaths just the same, and could absolutely wine and dine a stranger until their clothes practically flew off their body if it was for the cause. You needed to be like that. Especially at a time like this.

“I’ll do it. And I’ll do it well.” You assured your boss and his partner. Yeah, this would be easy. You could go low as the scum you were about to completely fuck over. You had been climbing up the ranks as of late, so this would be easy as pie.

Before going on your little date: you made a mental note of the main players you would have to deal with. The list you had went something like this:

Porco Galliard: Complete idiot. All brawn, no brain. Basically a bouncer with a fancier jacket and a higher salary. No worries about him doing anything funny.

Pieck Finger: The sweet little thing they kept around for good reason. Part of you wished you had to deal with her instead. She was witty and had a surprising amount of control over the shipments of cocaine and ammunition that went on about the city. Her pretty face and calm demeanor hid her true genius. She was one of the more concerning figures at tonight’s gig, but also one of the one’s more willing to hear you out before killing you.

Colt Grice: Basically a smarter but weaker version of Galliard. He was really only part of the Syndicate to learn from the best and become a great mafioso one day. You had high hopes for him, despite yourself.

Bertholdt Hoover: A freakishly tall mix of the last three members of the gang. So sweaty and shaky he wasn’t allowed to handle guns under any circumstance. That told you all you needed to know about his threat level.

Annie Leonhardt: Tiny, quiet ball of rage and skill. Could murder you in an instant, but would only do so if ordered. Not a concern unless someone else found you out, or you didn’t like being glared at all night.

Reiner Braun: His personality changed with the passing minutes. Could be calm and almost kind, or could snap your neck like a twig in his giant ass hand. He was a wildcard, and a dangerous one. Though he was obsessed with following orders and being the perfect little soldier boy, so you didn’t need to worry about him if no one told him to start shooting.

Yelena: Even more freakishly tall than Hoover. Also freakishly obsessed with the gang leader and his “master plan”, whatever the hell that was. Maybe you would find out tonight. Anyways, she would only do anything if you threatened the boss in any way. If you did your job right, that wouldn’t be an issue.

Eren Yeager: Easily the most brash and idiotic member of the gang. His problem was that he was trigger happy. In this business, trigger happy meant dozens of dead innocents piled up on the club floor in an instant. You had to be careful around him. Unlike most of the others, he would kill you without thinking.

And the top dog. The man of the hour. The man you had to seduce:

Zeke Yeager: Think Erwin but with more wit and charm. Not to mention more of a sadistic mindset. His favorite game was cat and mouse, seeing how long it took before he had a good excuse to have someone drawn and quartered. His expertise was slow torture that the victim didn’t even really know was happening before the barrel of the gun was already pointed to their temple. And you had to fuck him so stupid he leaked confidential information.

The only other issue with Zeke was his habit of sleeping around. Yes, he was a tramp by most standards. A harlot with exotic tastes. You had heard stories of him seducing women and men alike, and god only knew what they did once he succeeded. What that meant for you was he would be hard to impress.

So, you were here to beat him at his own game. And if you were found out, his younger brother would most likely shoot you on the spot. That was, if one of the others did it first. Or even worse, Zeke decided to be a tried and true asshole and torture you to death. The options were endless, and you hated them all.

So there you sat, ass perched on a bar stool, sipping on a gin rickey and waiting for your opportunity. The room smelled strongly of tobacco, rum, and cinnamon. At least you would die surrounded by what you loved, you thought, laughing grimly to yourself. Men and women danced to slow songs you faintly recognized. The air buzzed with haughty laughter and upper class small talk. You barely had any idea how to interact with high society shitheads as high and mighty as the ones Yeager surrounded himself with. You weren’t often sent out to jobs like this. You were like Levi, born in the slums and never taught how to properly behave. You knew what you had to, much like your knowledge of the goings on of La Peste Eldienne. You knew your gang traded drugs, ammunition, and whatever else was a hot commodity at the time, but nothing other than that. You were actually quite glad to know nothing, since that made you a pretty unimportant person to rival gangs. Not as many death threats and kidnapping attempts came your way, unlike the ones Erwin, Hange, and Levi got every day. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts on the gang hierarchy.

“Excuse me, miss. The boss wants to chat with ya’ real quick.” A man with greasy hair and green, catlike eyes softly gripped your shoulder. Considering what you knew of Galliard, you figured that grip wouldn’t be soft for much longer if you didn’t do as he suggested.

“Oh, alright. Did he happen to mention why?” You were genuinely curious. Porco didn’t offer you any solid answer, but there was a reasonable explanation.

Zeke wanted to get his rocks off. Parties could be interesting, with the right people, of course. The right people hadn’t happened to show up that night. You, on the other hand, seemed interesting. To be frank, you were gorgeous. Even from a distance, he could tell there was something behind your eyes that spelled trouble. He loved people like you. Vicious, cunning, witty, all hidden behind an uninterested and bored demeanor. Those were the people he wanted around him. The best examples were Pieck, and surprisingly, Levi. They seemed to be completely different people than the ones hiding behind their eyes, and Zeke loved to see how long it took to break them down. Well, he was a bit kinder to Pieck, but you and Ackerman got the rough treatment.

“Zeke, what the hell’re you doin’?” Eren pulled him out of his rather disgusting thoughts of…things better left unsaid.

“I’m going to talk to a woman, Eren. What does it seem like I’m doing?” Zeke had a sharp tongue and quick wit, which he didn’t spare even his brother from.

“I get that, but why that one? She seems…shady t’me. I wouldn’t let ‘er get too close, y’know?”

“Eren, please be rational.” Zeke held a palm out in front of Eren, as if to physically stop his train of thought. “You and Yelena will shoot at the first sign of danger, so inviting this lovely woman to join us for a harmless chat isn’t a danger in the slightest.” Zeke reassured his brother, neglecting to tell him his true intentions. He was sure that would just make him more upset and skittish, which was dangerous for everyone there.

“’Kay, boss. Got the dame ya’ asked for.” Porco trudged to the brothers’ secluded table with you in tow. He had kept one hand on your shoulder and the other right above your ass. The two main reasons being: one, he didn’t want someone so seemingly important to escape his grip, and two, you had a nice ass.

“Ah, thank you Galliard…you can let her go now.” He gave Porco a knowing smirk. He let you go immediately and walked away, cheeks slightly reddened. Zeke didn’t want someone else touching his new toy.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as rude, but did you need something from me? That man made me leave my gin at the bar and I would like to finish it at some point.” Oh, Zeke was going to love you. You weren’t flighty or scared in the slightest. He knew you had seen some serious shit. Not to mention how you cared more about your alcohol than a dangerous mafia boss and his younger brother ordering you over to their table. You were attractive and relatable. What a catch.

“My apologies, Galliard tends to be a bit, how do you say, brutish. Feel free to order something new and sit down with us.” He gave you a smile that told you it wasn’t a suggestion. This guy was already just as bad as everyone had told you. He hailed a waiter over to the table. You knew that wasn’t some kind gesture, rather a show of how much power he had over everyone there. His long, thick fingers and suave smile also showed you how easily swayed you could be by dashing looks and raw power.

He held himself like a king but talked like a philosopher. At the same time, he was down to earth yet still slightly condescending. You never knew where you stood with him, and he liked it that way. His flaxen hair was parted down the middle, and unlike most of the men there along with yourself with their hair hardened with pomade, it was fluffy and moved as he gestured wildly when he spoke. He tended to talk with his hands, once again drawing attention to just how attractive they were. His face was indescribably beautiful. His eyes were like stormy oceans cascading with passion and intrigue. His lips looked soft and plush with a wonderful roseate hue. His beard was well groomed and framed his sharp jaw perfectly. His gold rimmed glasses had a habit of hiding his eyes when thrown into direct light, which often happened with how he talked with his whole body. The way he constantly made direct eye contact with you had you lost in a daze of desire and fear. Was this all some sick ploy to get you to slip up and get everyone you loved killed along with yourself? Or was he seriously that interested in you?

Eren was quiet most of the time, unless Zeke spoke to him. He didn’t like you. You were too similar to Zeke for his tastes.

“Say, Eren, could you pass me a smoke?”

“Oh, so you do have vices. See, you never ordered a drink for yourself, so I assumed you were a man above pleasures of the flesh.” You flashed a toothy grin at him, signaling that it was just playful banter. You two were both rather good at that.

“My dear, the more you get to know me, the better you will understand just how enthralled with earthly pleasures I am.” He winked, and it sent you to the moon with want. How could a man be so gorgeous, charming, dangerous, and sadistic all at the same time? And why did you have to deal with it? You needed him out of his right mind, but it seemed like that could never happen. Whether it came from alcohol, drugs, or sex. You planned to use a mixture of all three. As you continued your playful jabs and taunts at each other, you found your opportunity to seal the deal. One sniff of the white stuff and he was putty in your hands.

“Now you know, Mr. Yeager, gin isn’t my only vice.” You kept your usual sly tone.

“Oh really? That is quite the interesting thing to say.” He matched your energy perfectly. This was too good.

“Have you ever happened to try, well, what do they call it these days? Well, I tend to call it blow. Snow, stardust, snort, sugar, crack, whichever you prefer, I suppose.” Oh, how brave of you to mention your own trade to your top competitor.

“Why, yes, I have indeed partook in snorting blow. Is there any reason as to why you’re asking me that right now, darling?” You wished he would stop with the pet names. Or rather, you wished you would stop loving them so much. It felt dirty to enjoy your enemy’s company to this extent.

“Well, I was wondering if you might like to sneak off and try some of my personal mix.” You leaned in close, covering the side of you mouth with your hand. Eren wasn’t a bad kid or anything, but he’d mess with your plan, and you couldn’t have that. Especially not with his slippery ass trigger finger.

“Your own personal mix, eh? Don’t tell me you’re involved in the trade, now.” He leaned in just shy of touching your lips. “That wouldn’t be very good for either of us, sweetheart.” That’s it, you were fucking this man if it was part of your plan or not. The entire thing could go south, and you’d still want this man’s dick in your mouth. You didn’t really care anymore. He was too hot to handle, and you were this close to cracking under the pressure. Zeke was right, you were fun to play with.

“Not at all, I just happen to know the right people.” You grinned at him, knowing you technically weren’t lying. It was your own little inside joke, or so you thought.

The next thing you knew you were in Zeke’s penthouse, smashed up against the wall with a hand around your neck. By all accounts, this is what you wanted, but it was also quite the opposite.

“Dearest, I find it insulting that you think I would fall for that pitiful act.” He had you figured out from the moment you walked in. Zeke Yeager never forgot a pretty face. He’d wanted to have you naked in his bed for months, and here you were, all helpless and needy. You were adorable, thinking you could get whatever you wanted from him.

“Smith was a fool to send anyone, let alone a little minx like you.” You hated how good being insulted by this bitch felt. How did he make it so that your panties got wetter every time he called you a different synonym for whore? It was so awful and so amazing.

“I’m the slut, yet you’re the one actively trying to fuck me? Do I have that right?” You quipped the best you could from under the pressure of his strong hand.

“Alright then, we’re both sluts. But the difference between us is that I admit it, yet you pretend to be this perfect little princess in order to fuck powerful men like me.” His grip on your neck tightened as if to add injury to insult.

“Don’t insult me,” you had to catch your breath between each word, “I fuck men ten times more powerful than you.” But, god was it worth it. You figured he might slap you or otherwise reprimand you, but no, the bastard just smiled wide. What a fucking asshole.

“Maybe to you.” He widened his cheshire grin. “Maybe you think Erwin’s more powerful. That he has a bigger cock and sucking it will get you further in life.” He pushed you further into the wall. “Or maybe letting Ackerman smack your ass will earn you some cash. Or having Zacharius sniff around your cunt instead of your neck will rise you up the ranks, hmm?” You just grimaced at him, knowing none of it was true. “Or maybe,” he let out a chuckle, “letting Zoe do whatever the hell they’re into will get you more coke and gin.” He was mocking you, ruthlessly, with no signs of stopping, and without letting you get a word in. You were starting to see black spots in your line of vision.

“Well, fucking with me will get you much more, angel.” He finally let your neck go, letting you fall to the ground, left to look up at the devil in front of you.

“You fucking suck.” You glared at him, not necessarily trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. As it happened, you weren’t some innocent angel. No, you weren’t a sadistic maniac like Zeke, but you knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t necessarily vanilla. As if reading your earlier thoughts, he bent down to your place on the floor.

He slapped you, and it wasn’t gentle.

“You’re a sloppy whore on your best days, now get up and strip.” Well if worst came to worst, you could say that you got him where you wanted him…just not exactly how you wanted him, or with a guarantee you would get what you wanted out of him. Honestly, you felt kind of flattered by his attention and apparent need to fuck you.

“God, do I have to do everything for you, sweetheart?” Apparently you had been standing around catching your breath too long for his liking. He had made quick work of his own jacket, shirt, and dress pants, leaving him in a black pair of boxers. You hated admitting how magnificent he looked. He was muscular, but not in the same way someone like Reiner or Erwin was. Every single limb on him was lengthy and wiry, thus the bruise marks forming on your neck. While on the subject of length, from what you could see, it applied to his cock as much as it did his other appendages. If it looked that good through the black fabric, you couldn’t even dream of what it would look like out in the open, slapping against his defined v-line and abs.

You hadn’t even noticed him getting closer to you, completely forgetting about his earlier demand turned complaint.

“Not only are you a harlot, you’re a useless one, as well.” He came close enough for you to smell the hints of smoke, pine, and black tea that wafted off of him. He started playing with the collar of your shirt. “But damn if you aren’t a pretty one…” He said that more to himself than you, clearly not being comfortable complimenting you. He saw you as a toy, a pawn in his game of chess he was playing with the rest of the world.

You decided that would be your last deep thought as he began to undress you. Nimbly moving his fingers down each button of your dress shirt, until it came completely undone and bore your chest to him. You were by no means flat, which seemed to entertain the man in front of you.

“I knew you’d be the perfect slut for me.” He groped your breasts through your bra, hands greedy with the clear goal of making you yearn for him. “Perfect tits, soft skin, pretty face, nice ass, strong will. Yeah, you’ll be fun to break.” He gave you one of his signature smirks, making you want to crush his windpipe and deepthroat his dick at the same time.

You shrugged your top off your shoulders and let him snake his arms around your chest to undo your bra and expose your tits to the cool air of the room. He didn’t waste time kissing your filthy mouth, and instead skipped straight to your sensitive neck. He slowly dragged his soft lips down your throat, kissing his way over to both sides and under your jaw. He licked and sucked at any area that made you gasp or let out some embarrassing little noise you tried to desperately to hide. He hated how you hid, he needed you to need him, to want him at a level beyond human comprehension. He wanted to destroy you, do break you down to your most animalistic and pitiful form. You were strong, that was for damn sure, but he wanted to fix that.

He took all this into account as he began nipping at the tops of your breasts. He moved from one to the other with no clear pattern. He dragged his tongue down to your right nipple, only touching the tip of his tongue to it, making you shiver in anticipation and let out a small whine. Yes, that was the progress he wanted to see from you. He swirled his tongue around it, slowly making his way to the center, harshly sucking it into his mouth. He pulled his sinful mouth away from you, leaving a trail of saliva connecting him to you. He quickly made his way to your other nipple, doing the same and driving you just as wild.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to make more noise, darling.” He teased, sounding genuinely annoyed with you.

“Well, maybe if you did a better job, I would be louder.” You had discovered your talent of keeping up with his smart mouth, and you used it to your advantage. You wanted to rile him up; to get a rise out of him. As previously stated, you didn’t want a vanilla little love making session, you wanted to fuck.

“Alright then, if you’re so keen on keeping quiet,” he put his rough hands on your bare shoulders, pushing you back onto the ground, this time on your knees, “how about I stuff that mouth?” You hated how good he was at turning you on.

He pulled his dick out right in front of your face, letting it lay on his toned abs, just as you had envisioned it. It was easily 10 inches long, 5 inches thick, with a slight upturn that could drive you insane if it hit the right spots, which it would. It was flushed pink and dripping pre-cum; it was pretty.

“Well, are you just going to gawk at it or are you going to make yourself useful, slut?” The sweet pet names were out the window, swiftly replaced with the most debasing insults he could think of. To avoid any more of his smart ass remarks, you took his thick cock in your hands. You slowly stroked it, taking in exactly how big it was. You moved your plush lips closer, giving it a few small kitten licks to test the waters. You kissed the head and gave longer licks up the side, earning a grunt or two from the man above you. As you began to swirl your tongue around his tip, his strong hand came down and pushed on the back of your head. It wasn’t gentle, forcing you to take him down your throat. Considering his size, it was no shock that you choked on it at first, but he kept his hand on your hair, forcing you to stay on him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep that dirty mouth on fat cock.” Tears starting pooling in your eyes as you struggled to breath around his length. “Aww, are you actually crying?” He cooed, taking sick pleasure in mocking you. “How pathetic of you, darling.” His words send shockwaves of shame and pleasure down to your core. You abhorred how badly you needed him inside of you. As he let out a low moan, he pulled you off his cock, tugging your hair just enough to make you even wetter.

“Alright, angel. I’m not a big fan of blowjobs, so we’ll leave it at that.” You coughed a little as he bent down to your heaving form.

“Really? That’s a shock.” That was your genuine reaction. You were far too fucked out to be a smart ass at this point.

“Yeah, you’re not the first to make that observation.” Much to your surprise, he picked you up bridal style, barely breaking a sweat in the process of getting you to his bedroom. Though the lights were on, you couldn’t take in many details, your cock drunk state making it difficult to process anything other than the warm, bare skin of the monster you tried so hard to vanquish.

“Now, lets get these cute little panties off, hmm?” You had forgotten him taking off your pants in the heat of the moment. His menacing figure loomed overtop of you, slowly sinking down to your thighs. He placed licks and kisses all over them, leaving a few bite marks along with them. You moaned louder than before, feeling too blissed out to care about your pride. You felt large, tepid fingers hooking themselves between your legs and into your panties. He pulled them to the side, wanting to really take you in. Despite his lust for power and dominance, he much preferred giving head to receiving it, especially when it came to women and their soft, tender pussies. You were no exception to this rule.

“Goddamn you’re fucking wet.” You looked up at you, making you lean your head back to avoid his gaze. “You must like me more than you care to admit, sweetie.” Just after saying this, he ran one long finger up your dripping slit, coating his fingertip in your slick. He looked at it shimmering in the low light of the room, grinning before taking it into his mouth and tasting what your cunt had to offer.

“You taste like heaven. Surprising, considering what a nasty girl you are.” Unlike you, he could keep that smartass act up for hours on end, no matter how lost in your sex he was. He landed a chaste kiss to your throbbing heat before flattening his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the middle. He began to devour you, making the lewdest noises you had ever heard in the process. You felt amazing, and disgusting, and just about every other emotion you had ever felt in your life. He was a god at eating your pussy, feeling no remorse in having his lips and beard dripping with your juices. To hell with the burn marks he left on your thighs and the burning sense of guilt you had for moaning so loud and creaming all over the face of your greatest enemy. Shame and guilt were for foolish children with no place in the world, Zeke wanted to enjoy every last second of destroying you.

As he continued to lick and suck at your most sensitive spots, you began to feel your stomach tighten, signaling your closeness. Zeke noticed as well, taking note of your erupting moans and groans and tugs at his silky hair. He moaned on your clit, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his face, arching your back of the soft sheets and making you scream his name. He kept his lips attached to your clit as you came down from your high, keeping you ensnared in his trap of bliss.

“God, you moan like a fucking whore, you know that?” The way he insulted you felt disgustingly good, especially coming from such a obnoxiously handsome man.

“And you eat pussy like a god.” The veil of hatred came off in one foul swoop. You couldn’t hold back how you truly felt about Zeke Yeager. You were in love with the way he treated you, and spoke to you, and ate you, and soon enough, fucked you. He was so damn good, and you just hated to love and loved to hate him.

“Oh, do I now?” He let out a low chuckle, taking pride in how helpless and stupid he had made you. “Does that make me your god, pet?” It wasn’t a real question. He knew the answer, and he loved that answer: yes.

“Now, how about I partake in some earthly pleasures and fuck your brains out, sweetheart?” He questioned, moving his arms up to rest on both sides of your head. His face was right above yours, lips hovering over your breathless, panting ones.

“Yes, please.” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you grew impatient and needy as all hell. Zeke had a sinister idea. God was a nice term, but he could think of a better one.

“How about you beg daddy for it?” He was such a disgusting pervert, and he relished in it. You mustered all the strength you could in order to speak.

“Please fuck my pussy, daddy.” That was all he needed to push himself inside your tight heat. Your walls clenched as he thrusted balls deep inside of you, not caring if you needed to adjust or not. Luckily, you didn’t, despite his size.

“Fuck yes, angel. You’re so goddamn tight.” He thrusted into you with reckless abandon, using you more than making love to you, which is exactly what you both wanted. Your walls clenched and throbbed as he brought you to orgasm once again.

“Cumming all over my cock, sweetheart? Such a dirty whore.” He teased, continuing his motions, hitting your g-spot over and over again without much issue. His dick was perfect, reaching every inch of you that made you scream out in pleasure and overstimulated bliss. All of this for a few bags of cocaine and bullets. You weren’t even thinking of that as he pounded into you, getting rougher and sloppier than before. He was getting close to his own high just as you were about to reach your third. No one had ever made you feel like this. You never wanted to let him go. Fuck everyone you cared about, this was too damn good to throw away.

“Where do you want my cum, slut?” He asked seconds before climaxing.

“Wherever you want it, daddy.” That was exactly what he wanted to hear. You had been molded into the perfect toy for him, even if it was just for the moment. He had debased and perverted you, like putty in his hands. You thought you could just waltz in there and take what you wanted from him. But no, instead you were writhing around on his bed with his fat cock filling up your pussy while you screamed for your daddy. You were filthy, slutty perfection. He quickly pulled out of you and shot his cum on your stomach and chest. Noticing you were still squirming around, he pushed his thumb to your clit and rubbed circles as two of his fingers entered you and hit your sweet spot.

“Come on, slutty girl, cum for daddy.” This time felt different than the others. You were completely out of your mind with pleasure and lust, and he was hitting just the right spots. You came around his fingers, squirting your juices and ruining his sheets. As if he could sense it, he had moved his face down just in time for it to reach his mouth, coating yet another layer of your cum on his beard. He licked his lips, savoring you taste and the blissed out, fuck drunk look on your face. He wished he could keep you like this forever. No, he would make sure to keep you like this forever. You were going to be his for the rest of time, no matter what it took. Even if he had to play the long game and pretend you had a choice in the matter.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m afraid you have to go home empty handed. I’m sure those tarts will just pat you on the head and congratulate you for trying your best. That’s why they’ll never surpass me, and that’s why you will come crawling back to me.” You couldn’t respond, too disappointed and drained to say a word.

“I have a shower that I recommend you use.” He looked down at you, your eyes hazy and barely focused on him. You were completely exposed to him. You looked beautiful. “In an act of civility, I’ll let you sleep here tonight. On a different bed, of course, considering the damage you’ve done.” You laughed at that, and he followed suite.

“You know Zeke, for a monster, you’re not too bad.” You looked at him, admiration clear in your eyes.

“You’re not too unbearable either.”

#aot smut #snk smut #zeke yeager smut #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jeager smut #tw: drug use #tw: alcohol

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stray-kids-react · 4 years

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S/O likes enjoys writing/writing lyrics

Masterlist

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Bang Chan

° You owned this special and locked diary for years, where you kept all your bottles up emotions and feelings in.

° One of those feelings evolving your long time crush on Chan, including the words 'Sexy, Cute, Inspirational, Hot, Prince, and A Literal Angel' all in quite a few pages. Luckily your now long time boyfriend has never seen these fangirl/boy paragraphs.

° Chan was all of those words, no doubt about it. But it is still hard to look at those paragraphs without cringing at how desperate you sounded in your mind.

° Chan however apparently loved your affectionate paragraphs, flipping through the pages as you walked through his studio door. Your heart sank as pure shock and terror rushed through your veins. No one wants their private thoughts to be read.

° The tips of Chan's ears were firetruck red, as a beaming grin flashed towards you. You noted that he read through the entire diary, knowing all the dreams and wishes you had that involved him. No skeletons were left in your closet anymore, it was bittersweet.

"So you really think I'm an angel who is also the sexiest person on earth?" he teased, cupping your face in his palms.

"Well duh, but you can't tell me you didn't think anything like that towards me-" You defended, cut off by his sweet kisses.

Lee Know

° Minho found out about your true feelings towards him while reading some song lyrics you wanted to show 3Racha.

° He needed to know who you loved and admired so dearly after reading this, constantly by your side questioning anything he could. After literal weeks of conspiracy, you couldn't take his suspicion anymore and admitted everything.

° You are now much more secretive with your songs that you've written, but that won't stop Minho from looking everywhere he possibly can. He is determined to find them.

° After so many large steps that were taken in your relationship, he wants to see how you truly felt throughout them. From the first date, first time, to the promise ring he fave you last week. Minho wants to say it's to tease, when it's truly because he loves you.

° He loved the way his stomach did kart wheels as his heart fluttered when he first read your words. He hasn't felt that amazing feeling in a while and needs to re live it, luckily for him he noticed a place he has never thought of checking.

"So kitten, you really want to marry me don't you?" he commented, a soft smirk across his glowing features.

"Why wouldn't I? You're you. And how'd you find those?!" you replied, tone changing as you saw how many he actually had.

Changbin

° Changbin was struggling to create a new song, he seemed to accidently make similar beats and lyrics to their past hits.

° You would sometime write up different songs when you were bored, but you never showed them to anyone thinking they weren't great. But Changbin looked in need of some type of inspiration, so you brought out your journal and placed it infront of him.

° His expression was unreadable, either about to thank you for the amazing inspiration or laugh at your cheesy words. You just wanted him to say something.

° Changbin began to smile shyly, showing you a page he just read over. That page happened to be the most recent and the one you completely forgot about. It was a draft about 10 different ways you could tell Changbin that you loved him.

° You really wanted it to be special when you would say it to him, but luck didn't seem to be on your side that day. You were at least glad that he was smiling, showing positive signs that he isn't feeling awkward or doesn't feel the same way about you.

"I love you too my adorable bean." He chuckled, pulling you into his lap as he held you close to his racing heart beat.

"I'm guessing he new comeback is going to be a love song now?" you teased, burrowing into his soft black hoodie.

Hyunjn

° Your relationship use to be a cat and mouse situation, one day you two were best friends and then the next you two were rivals.

° Your anger and frustration towards one another was simply a way to hide your true emotions. Both of you found each other attractive in and out, but were too stubborn to confess. That is until he walked into your room and pressed you up against the wall.

° Your rivalry left out the door once you started dating, the only ounce of it was left in the small playful bickering and teasing. Which happened every day of the week.

° You walked into the dressing rooms, noticing Han and Felix giggling as your presence became known. This wasn't a usual giggle of theirs, something was going on. You knew that for sure once you saw the way Hyunjin presented himself.

° A sly smirk across his lips as a couple crumpled peace of paper were in between his fingers. His steps were long and powerful, as he held his head up high while nearing you. This usually meant he found something to tease you with.

"I didn't know you liked me for five years, coming up with so many cute pet names if we ever dated." He teased, hiding his blush.

"First of all, you went through my desk without asking me. Second of all, I am whipped for you dumb dumb." You replied.

Han

° You weren't a very vocal person, having trouble expressing your thoughts and emotions through words everyday.

° That reason alone is also why people think you and Han are a perfect match. He helped you come out of your shell and be comfortable in your own skin. All of those actions sent your heart into a frenzy, finding there way into pages filled with emotion.

° Han knew about your habit of writing cute quotes on your palms and arms, or just randomly taking out your journal and starting a new page.

° He respected your privacy even if the temptation of knowing every little thought you have was very very strong, he held back and let you write in peace. However, when you dropped your journal without knowing. Han held it and the temptation took over.

° As you had a chat with Seungmin, he turned around from your eye sight and flipped through the pages. Many of them expressing how much you love him and how much he helped you without him even knowing. This effected Han immensely.

"Hannie are you crying?" you questioned, noticing the forming gloss over his sparkling chocolate orbs.

"Yeah, but it's happy tears. I just never knew how much you cared about me, and it makes me feel important." He explained.

Felix

° You cannot hide anything from this adorable koala, he knows you too well and can find anything you've hidden from him.

° You learned this the hard way when you asked him for help when forgetting where you left your journal, panicking since the last place you saw it was at Minho's. Felix knew you usually placed it near your bed and assumed it to be under the covers.

°His assumption was spot on, but you had no idea that he had found it yet. Felix took this advantage to skim through a few pages, smiling at the sight of his name in the book.

° His name was mentioned ever since the day you first met, January 7th 2017. He was written as this attractive aussie that had your knees weak, he laughed silently at the realization that you fancied him since the first day you met. He loved it.

° Felix walked out with the navy blue book tight in his grip, his ears a bright shade of red. You knew he must've read some sort of page about him, but you weren't nervous about it. It couldn't have been anything more cheesy than what you say on dates.

"I can't believe Han knew about your crush on me that entire time." Felix chuckled, shock filling his expression.

"And I can't believe you never knew how much I truly admired you." You teased back, kissing his freckle speckled cheeks.

Seungmin

° Seungmin met you at a library, you were working on a soft poem about not being able to find the right person.

° That whole meeting seemed like something right off of a romance movie or fanfiction novel. Writing about giving up on love as an amazing guy happens to cross paths with you. But both of you laugh at the whole cliché nature of your meeting.

° Seungmin loved how you wrote, taking him into the story each time. He felt so special whenever he found something referring to your relationship, feeling fuzzy inside.

° He liked to bring some of your poems on tour with him, reminding him to stay strong when being away from you. Letting him know that you'll always be there for him when he needs you, even if you are both countries away from each other.

° Felix once found his stash of poems that you wrote, he never teased him on it but would still smile excitedly at how sentimental Seungmin was becoming. Seungmin knew he was becoming cheesy and mushy, he hated yet loved it.

"Do you know how much you have effected me?" he questioned, tracing the curve of your jaw with his thumb.

"Or maybe you have an addiction to me, ever think of that?" you responded, smiling widely as he rolled his eyes at your words.

Jeongin

° You worked under JYP entertainment to help create songs for different groups, Jeongin noticed you during his break.

° You rarely got to work with Stray Kids since they made 99% of their own songs, but that didn't stop Jeongin from trying to get to know you. It worked in his favor, since you began to develop a living in him after two months of hang out together.

° Jeongin likes hearing certain songs you create or in the process of being created, cheering you on and telling all of his members when you created a song.

° He liked to give you the credit and appreciation you rarely get, most of the credit going towards the artist who performed the songs you created. Jeongin wanted to let you know how proud he was of you daily, even if you got shy from it.

° Whenever you showed him different samples of songs you were working on, he'd dance in his seat with a beaming smile. Even when you were tired and wanted the day to end, his admiration and addicting smile would make your mood change instantly.

"I am just worried because JYP has been pretty harsh on the past few songs." You sighed, tired and frustrated.

"He literally wrote a song about women's butts. I'm pretty sure you're more talented baby." He reassured, patting your head.

#stray kids #kpop #changbin #skz scenarios #stray kids reactions #han jisung #hyunjin #jeongin #lee know #bang chan #skz reactions #skz fluff #skz ff #felix skz #skz seungmin

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Bitter Taste: Iwaizumi x f/reader Pt. 1

pt. 2 here

THIS IS SO LATE and I’m a fuck up hahahaha (kinda ironic this was 2 weeks late for Mental Health Awareness month)

I am crediting my girl @kuso-deku for giving me Iwaizumi brain rot to begin with. I am also crediting @gixxie and @idonotagreebitch for helping me talk through my ideas... and crediting @doinmybesthere for the wonderful idea of a mental health awareness collaboration the link is here. PLS READ THE REST OF THE WORKS. Everyone deserves the love.

TW: manipulative male/female relationships, gaslighting?, subtle shit head crap that most men do (don’t worry Iwa is a peach as always tho, it’s Ushijima that’s the problem)

Iwaizumi stands and stretches in the cinema. The movie had been good, but long, he figured it was a little after midnight. “What’d ya think?” Kuroo asks as they exit the theatre. “I hated the ending…” Oikawa gripes, “I hate endings where everyone just dies.” “You are such a princess Tooru, I swear, it’s a metaphorical ending… did you not catch all the symbolism in the opening credits?” Iwaizumi sighs and turns his phone back on, trying his best to ignore their bickering. Slowly, notification after notification pops up… all from you. He blinks, surprised. You had declined his offer to join him for the film, stating you had previous plans attending a close friend’s birthday.

Iwa opens the messages from you. He sees first the selfies. You look beautiful, extravagant even. Your dress is beautiful, it compliments your figure perfectly with the corseted bodice. It’s white and so is your lace mask. Broad, feathered angel wings rest on your back. Angelic would have been a word he’d used to describe you before, but now, it was confirmed. He wants to keep staring at the photos but Kuroo and Oikawa are starting to become too curious about the contents of his phone. He scrolls and relaxes his face to look more casual. But it’s hard when your intoxicated messages are so darn cute.

hope the movie is good!

okay so I guess there’s an open bar? Is it my birthday too?

if you wanna come by after the movie I’msure you coul

this partyyyy suckssssssss assssssssss

wish id gon wiht u xx

You are clearly drunk and he laughs to himself before Kuroo peers over his right shoulder. “Well she’s thinking about you at least,” he smirks. Oikawa peers over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, “ooo play the voice message.” Oikawa taps the message before Iwaizumi can give him an answer.

“Hiiiii Iwaaaaaa, hope you like the moovie and you’re having a good time, cuz I’m having a preetyy good time, they gots free margaritaaass. Okay byeeeee”

The guys laugh and Oikawa presses the next one.

“Hey Iwaaa, I made up a song about you, ready?

Iwaizumi

Doesn’t know what he does- to me…

Sshfhsijknfhahaha I cant remember the rest som’n bout… som’n I dunno. Byeee”

“Okay, Ushi says that I need to say sorry for sending so many…” you pause and then whisper, “drunk messages, but I’as only tellin’ ya I ssink ‘r awesome ‘n you should totally come to this party and hang out with me… you’re awesome, okay byeee”

Oikawa and Kuroo pause and look at Iwaizumi. “Ushi?” Oikawa asks, “like Ushiwaka?” Oikawa’s eyes are narrowed and he gags dramatically in disgust. Iwaizumi nods and walks to exit the theatre. “Wait… that’s her friend who’s having the birthday party?” Iwa grimaces as Kuroo chuckles. “No wonder you’ve had a stick up your ass all night.” Iwa glares at him, “they’re just friends… apparently… I don’t know, she said they’ve known each other for a really long time…” Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the back. “I think you should definitely go to the party.” Iwaizumi starts to object but the ring of his phone draws attention, and he answers it. “Heyyy you're outta th’moviee, heheeheheha,” you slur. Iwaizumi laughs softly and smiles, “yeah, I’m out of the movie now, are you… good?” There is so much background noise, it almost drowns out your sweet sleepy voice. “I’m soooo good… … I just-” he can hear your voice drop to a drunken whisper. “I’z just hoping to see you today,” you mumble finally.

Iwaizumi can feel his heartbeat quicken, his head reeling. “Oh really?” He plays cool but then instantly regrets it when you give him a serious answer. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d come to the party, even for just a little,” you murmur. Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle. You were pretty cute like this, not normally so transparent. You were actually quite hard to read, so sweet but guarded and teasing too. You were a friend of Oikawa’s first and he had met you through him. He’d liked the way you sat cross legged on the couch smiling, chin in your hands while you asked questions and listened to his answers. Your eyes sparkle when you hear something you like, and your face lights up when you talk about things you find interesting.

“Ya don’t have to, I can just see ya another time,” you add. He’s been silent too long which causes him to speak without thinking. “No, I’d love to see you, I’ll head to you now.” Kuroo and Oikawa are silently cheering him on and Iwa turns away in embarrassment. “Really? Okay! I’ll drop my pin… as the kids are sayin’ these days hahaha.” “See you soon, drink some water okay?” “Mhm, I will, see ya soon!”

You were at a club owned by Ushijima’s family. A place called ‘Eagle’s Nest’. He’d only known you for a few weeks but he couldn’t help his infatuation. It was immediate, the night he had gone to Oikawas for game night. You spoke to him so easily not knowing him at all and laughed at his little side jabs to his long time friend. The way you looked at him… Iwa knew then that he wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, and that he would be happy to assume the responsibility of making that happen.

He was surprised when you had declined his offer for the movie, feeling that you both had some definite chemistry, but Iwaizumi was even more surprised when you had said that you had prior plans with his old time rival Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him since high school but they knew a few people in common, Oikawa being one of those people. Oikawa could sure hold a grudge but Iwaizumi took all of his comments with a grain of salt. Ushijima often came off entitled and cold, which would leave Iwaizumi with a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe Oikawa had the right idea holding a grudge… But grudge or not he wanted to see you, hear your voice and admire you all dolled up.

When Iwaizumi arrives at the club he is met with a large security guard. “Invitation?” he grumbles. Iwa remains calm but a small trickle of fear runs down his back. Iwaizumi gives the guard a casual smile before he starts to answer but he is interrupted. “Iwaaaaa,” you cry from the top of the stairs. The mask you’d had on is now resting on top of your head, the delicate features of your face now exposed. The floofy skirt of your dress bounces with your excitement as you run down the stairs. You crash into him, throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his collar and still momentarily. Drunk and bubbly, you melt when Iwa wraps his arms around your waist in return, avoiding your costume’s wings. “Mmmm,” you hum, breath hot against his skin, “you smell good.” You pull back and stare into his wide eyes. “You look incredible,” he offers, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You grin in return and simply take hold of his hand. “He’s with me,” you beam at the guard. Iwaizumi is doubtful this trick will work here. But he is surprised when the guard steps aside saying, “as you wish Miss L/N.” You giggle and pull Iwa towards the doors. “I’ll bring you some cake later, okay Jurou?” Jurou laughs, “just have fun darlin’.” “You’re the best,” you call behind you as you push open the doors. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy knowing that you are on a first name basis with one of the body guards at the Wakatoshi’s club. How close were you with Ushijima?

Blue and purple lights illuminate the vast space while black tiles make up the main floor. The dance floor is sunken, in the middle of the club with a small set of stairs leading down to it. It’s made entirely of glass, beneath is a saltwater garden of different plants and coral.

“You’ll need one of these,” you explain, swiping a simple black mask from the welcome table. You hand it over to him and pull yours down over your eyes. Iwaizumi adjusts it to where he can see. “You look so handsome,” you admire. He grins, “what about you? You’ve got wings!” You laugh and adjust your mask back on top of your forehead. “I’m a swan, and Ushi said I couldn’t be a swan without wings!” You spin for him, trying your best to flap the feathered wings. Small pieces of confetti glitter rain from the skirt of your dress. Iwaizumi takes in your face illuminated by the lights of the club. Blue and pink dancing over your cheeks as you smile up at him. “What?” you giggle nervously. Just a few weeks but he is mesmerised by your everything. He shakes his head and tries to move on. He wanted to tell you how he felt but this wasn’t the right time. It should be when you’re sober, when you can take in his words properly.

You coax him down towards the bar. “You’re sure it’s okay to sneak in uninvited guests?” Iwa questions. “Well, I asked Ushi ‘nd he said it was okay, so yeah!” You grin but notice Iwaizumi’s reserve. “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just get a drink,” you suggest and take his hand. “Only if you drink more water,” he smirks. You roll your eyes at Iwa, “I drank some water before you got here actually.” You look back at him as you both head down to the bar. “I’ll prolly regret that yurr seeing me like this tamorow, ya know,” you call over the blaring music. “It’s cute, you’re cute,” he assures as he leans against the bar, “I didn’t know you thought about me this much until I saw all the snapchats and voice messages and texts.” You cover your face in humiliation, “I knowww, I’m sorry but you were on my mind a lot, alot alot, and couldn’t stop think about ya, and the booze told me to keep on messaging…” You trail off, finding the last shred of your filter to keep you from talking. The bartender hands you your water and you take a long drink.

“Iwaizumi,” a voice projects over the baseline. Ushijima stands tall advancing towards where you both stand. His expression is neutral though, his eyes keep darting to you and then back to Iwaizumi. Ushijima is dressed as a knight, his silver mask hangs languidly around his neck. “Ushiwaka,” Iwa acknowledges, “this is a hell of a birthday party.” You giggle and point at Ushiwaka, “he’s 28 today; getting sooo old.” In that moment, Iwaizumi watches him do something he had never seen him do before. Smile… and then laugh. Ushijima wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re just a baby, you’re only-” You wave your hand in front of Ushiwaka’s face, shushing him. “No, no, Iwa doesn’t knowww, don’t tell him,” you plead. “She’s only 23,” Ushiwaka says. You hold your face in your hands once more and groan. Ushijima pulls your hands from your face, “just barely twenty three too.” You glare at him and look back at Iwaizumi embarrassed. “Did she not tell you her age?” Ushijima asks Iwaizumi. Iwa shrugs, “She didn’t, but I never asked,” Iwa shrugs casually, addressing you now, “didn’t seem important since you carry yourself so well.”

You turn to Iwa, mouth open like you’re about to respond but Ushijima swipes the glass from your hands before you can finish. “Drinking water?” You look up at him. “But it’s my birthday… and this is a party… you need something stronger…” Ushijima beacons the bartender with a single flick of his hand. The barman pours three double shots of a clear liquid from a foreign looking bottle. Ushijima takes a glass and hands it to you, before handing another to Iwaizumi. Ushijima gives him a wink as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He raises his glass, the violet lights illuminating the liquid. Iwaizumi follows his lead. “To my Juliet, the belle of the ball,” Ushijima bellows. You smile slightly and shake your head. “No no, to you Ushi, it’s your birthday, not mine, we are celebrating you!” Your eyes find Iwa’s, but you leave your glass raised. Ushijima grabs hold of your hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. “Cheers,” He tips the glass towards your lips and you swallow the clear liquor as he feeds it to you. You down it all in one go and Ushiwaka smiles wide once again. “She’s good, huh?” With that, Ushiwaka clinks his glass to Iwaizumi’s, “to you brother,” he assures. Iwa is surprised with the sudden sentiment. “And to you,” he replies before downing the shot. The liquor is surprisingly smooth, expensive, and strong. Iwa can feel his head starting to get light from the small portion that was in the glass and Iwa wasn’t a light weight. “Strong huh?” Ushijima smirks. Iwaizumi nods then turns to the bartender to signal for a water.

Ushijima turns to where you stand swaying slightly with the music. “Look at her, she gets drunk so easily,” Ushijima smiles. “How are you feeling, princess?” he shouts over at you. Iwa turns away and downs his water in disgust. ‘Princess?’ Ushijima shouldn’t be calling you that if you’re both just friends. You blink and give him a smile and a thumbs up. There was a natural innocence about you, a childlike wonder and curiosity, the embodiment of sanguine. Ushijima’s air was sometimes sinister, like he was taking advantage of your natural trusting nature. Iwa watches as Ushijima’s large hands rest on either of your shoulders and he pushes you back and forth like a pendulum between his palms. You giggle and try to push him away, “Ushi stooopp.” He laughs with you and continues pushing you around, “you’re so cute and small though, see?” He places a hand on top of your head and you still. “I said to stop,” you mumble. “And I did,” he retorts before letting you go.

Iwa watches the sudden weight of gravity find you as you stumble in your heels. He catches your arm just in time. Your arms find their way around his neck once more, your face in the crook of his neck. You pull away and Iwa examines your foggy eyes. “You okay?” You nod, pushing off of Iwa’s chest. You fix your hair, “it’s fine, he just messin’” you turn to Ushijima, “and someone doesn’t know when to quit.” You’re pulled away into Ushiwaka’s arms. He sways you back and forth, your back held against his chest while he says soft apologies. He whispers something to you and you nod. Iwaizumi wanted to pull you away from him. Not because he was jealous, but because the way that Ushiwaka was behaving with you was odd.

“Y/n is a little bit tired, why don’t you join us in VIP?” Iwa smiles and gives his thanks, trying his best to hide his scowl. Iwa follows after you and Ushiwaka, upstairs and under velvet ropes hoping that he will find a good moment to pull you away. But instead you are pulled onto the couch beside Ushiwaka. He lights a cigar and offers one to Iwa, but Iwaizumi declines with a simple, “no thanks, don’t smoke.” It’s strange the way that Ushiwaka keeps whispering in your ear, giving you sips of his drinks, and blowing smoke in your face. “Ushi, stop please, the smell is making me sick,” you whine. But he just pulls you closer to him, chuckling all the while and does it again. You’re laughing and poking his face, but it’s not out of joy... Watching Ushijima interact with you the whole night has been like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

Iwa grimaces when Ushiwaka tickles you. “Stop-stop-don’t-stop,” you giggle and howl. “She said to stop!” Iwa raises his voice. Ushijima’s eyes shoot towards Iwaizumi while you squirm off the couch. Your eyes are heavy as you walk towards a dark hallway and disappear into the shadows. Iwa’s eyes flick to the entrance to the hall. Ushiwaka sits in a contented silence, sipping a drink, “she’s so dramatic,” he sighs. He continues smoking, arm rested over the back of the purple velvet sofa. Ushijima takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass. Iwa doesn’t move to break the silence no matter how expectant Ushijima’s expression was. He stamps out his cigar in the tray before addressing him.

“She’s awfully talkative, and incredibly fond of you…” Ushijima starts, an odd smirk painting his expression. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in intrigue and Ushijima’s face hardens. “She won’t shut up about you since she met you… it’s annoying...” Iwaizumi, remains quiet, the silence settling over the men like a thick fog. The only sounds are muffled club music and the ice tinkling against Ushijima’s glass. “I’m going to be honest as a friend… bad idea.” Iwaizumi can feel the rage bubbling inside his gut, “I don’t think that what’s going on between us is any of your-” He’s cut off by Ushijima.

“I’m really looking out for you Iwaizumi, girls can break hearts and Y/n is kind of known for that… she’s just a sweet soul, makes friends easily, but love? That’s harder for her… doesn’t have the best taste in men I’m afraid, I want to protect her and you from a situation where I can already see the conclusion… I get that you like her, everyone does.” Iwazumi leans forward, “does that include you?” Ushijima is stone faced, then gives a cold laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rises and heads towards the hall you disappeared down. If he sat in front of him any longer he was going to say something he regretted… and you still haven’t come back. He slips into the dark hallway as you’re exiting the bathroom. Your mask has been removed and even in the dim lighting you look pale. “Hey, what’s happened?” You look up at him embarrassed, your dress almost as wilted as you are. “Got sick…” you mutter. You’re shaking slightly, arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh Y/n, are you alright?” he sighs. His arm starts to reach for you but he thinks better of it, pulling it back to rest by his side. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. He didn’t figure that you would want to be touched right now. But your fingers interlace with his, your skin soft. “Are you good to drive?” you whisper. His hand instinctively tightens around yours protectively. “I only had whatever Ushijima gave us, it was strong but I’ve had water- yeah I’m good.” “Would you mind taking me home?” you ask, as you start to walk back towards the VIP room. “Sure, course,” Iwaizumi replies gently. He feels how your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in silent gratitude. The gesture has his heart beating hard against his ribs. Iwa walks forward, his eyes on you and nothing else. Your brow is furrowed and your expression painted serious which was unusual from how he knew you to act.

“Iwa’s taking me home now,” you announce and walk towards the stairs. Ushiwaka’s face hardens, “I can take her home, you shouldn’t trouble yourself,” he addresses Iwaizumi. You smile and turn around facing Ushiwaka. “But Ushi, ‘s ur birthday, you can’t leave this party jus’ ‘a take me home,” You turn to Iwa now. “Let’s go,” you say and Iwa nods, still holding your hand. “Where’s my hug, princess?” Ushijima calls after you. You stop in your tracks and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You drop Iwa’s hand slowly, hesitantly. You walk back slowly and stand before his open arms. He lifts you and you groan. You’re still hugging him tightly but not quite with the same intimacy as before.

As Ushijima places you down you turn to look back at Iwa when Ushijima catches your face with his large hand. He coaxes your face back towards him then leans down. Ushiwaka locks eyes with Iwaizumi as he whispers something in your ear. Then he presses his lips to your cheek, still not moving his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s. Iwa tries his best to remain neutral but he can feel his lip creeping upwards in contempt. Ushiwaka is too prideful for his own good it seems.

You take Iwa’s hand again, leading him towards the exit. An exasperated look rests on your face. “What did he say to you?” Iwa asks. You sigh and shake your head. “‘S nothin’, ya shouldn’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it.” Iwa can’t help but allow a smile. He raises an eyebrow at you, “think my head is pretty?” he asks. He’s met with your hazy gaze, “I do,” you say simply. Iwa wasn’t prepared for such a straightforward answer to his question.

Once out of the club, the valet pull Iwaizumi’s car around. He’s careful not to let you walk too far on your own. Sick, in those ridiculous shoes and still quite drunk, he opens the car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. “Will you put your address in?” Iwa hands you his phone and you type it in as asked. “Thanks for doing this,” you sigh. “Yeah of course,” he says as he puts the car into gear. A few streets of city light pass by in silence. Your hands are resting in your lap but your body is still trembling. “I can- umm- pull over if you need me to…” You wave the thought away with your hand, “it was the smell of the cigar more than anything…�� Iwa’s gut begins to boil again. Your voice is soft, almost defeated. He speaks before thinking better of it. “Does he always treat you like that?” You look at Iwa and make eye contact briefly before his attention is back on the road. “He was being a little extra weird today, maybe because y’all used to play volleyball together or… I dunno really, he just gets like that sometimes…” You trail off, allowing your thoughts to fade into the rearview. The silence is deafening and you feel the need to break it. “He’s really nice too though, don’t get me wrong, he cooks for me and calls to check in, he even gets me little gifts, so I know he cares.” Iwa shakes his head, “if he cared he would have stopped when you asked him to.” You take a breath, “I know but he was just having a night I guess…” Iwa pulls into your driveway as the GPS notifies him that he has ‘arrived at the destination’. He puts the car in park, “you don’t have to make excuses for him… it’s okay to be angry, if that’s how you feel.” You start to open the door, your fingers on the handle. “I’m not angry though, I’m just kinda hurt.” You open the door and start to get out, “okay, maybe a little angry too.” You laugh to yourself but not out of joy. It’s an ironic laugh and Iwa can hear the pain ringing inside of it. “Let me walk you inside.”

#iwaizumi #iwa #hajime #hajime x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #pls protect me iwa

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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Text

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: @honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels

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theloneliestshipper · 3 years

Text

five times he thought she would leave (and the one time he didn't)

Can't believe I've been in fandom this long and I've never written a "five times" fic. Until now. :)

1. Failure

He waited until he knew she would be asleep before joining her in bed. This wasn’t how he expected the day to end.

It started with a message from Leia, rousing him from slumber in the cockpit of Slave I. He didn’t realize he was smiling until he switched on the nav computer to chart the quickest route home. She had some new outfit to show him, not it really mattered. She missed him and wanted him, that was the important part.

Now all he wanted to do was go back to his ship. To feel the comfort of the familiar walls and instruments. To be alone.

He had a son on the way. Half of him and half of Leia giving her the assurance that he couldn’t provide.

No matter how long we’re together, you’ll always be bracing yourself for the sad and bitter end.

He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, his eyes tracing in the vague shape of her under the blankets. Maybe she was right.

She won’t remember you.

Sintas had said that about Ailyn once. She knew it wasn’t true, she said it to hurt him. He knew it wasn’t true and he left anyway. There was almost nothing in his life he regretted as much as that day.

Leia might one day despise him just as much. He laid down beside her in bed. She stirred a little and shifted back towards him the way she always did. It was habit, not forgiveness. He put her hand lightly on her side, his fingers just crossing onto her stomach. He listened to her breathing in the dark. “I’m sorry,” he said aloud, but not loud enough to wake her. I'll try, but it won't be enough.

2. Translation

He stayed close for the first few months while she battled morning sickness and exhaustion. He never enjoyed playing one of her senate guards and standing by while she made small talk with her politician friends, but at least like this he was useful.

They were flying in for yet another meeting when she turned her head toward him. “I think I’d like to see you naked while we’re on Coruscant.”

Boba stared at her from behind his helmet’s visor. She was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat on Slave I, the belt wrapped tightly over her swelling stomach. Her tone was casual. “Okay. But you see that all the time.”

“No, I’ve never seen it before and I want to.” Her expression was completely serious. No dancing light in her eyes, no teasing curl of her lips.

“You saw it this morning,” he insisted.

She was looking at him like he’d grown another head. “Boba, I swear to you I have never seen that play.”

“...Play?”

“Yes! You, Naked is a play about the life of Valdorr Sunspar. The artist?”

He should have been able to get it from context clues, even if he had no idea who the fek Valdorr Sunspar was. He braced himself for laughter, but it never came.

Instead Leia leaned forward and pulled up the holonet on the console. “Here. This mural is his most famous piece.”

He had seen it before. A smaller version, maybe a faded print hanging on the wall of some cantina. Leia met with educated and powerful people on a daily basis and they often talked about things that sounded like a foreign language to him.

Their lives were so different, with so many different points of reference. One day she would get tired of explaining things to him.

3. The Force

“Look at him, he’s the spittin’ image of ya.” Fenn Shysa swiped at his arm, and for once Boba didn’t try to avoid the blow. The other man’s fist connected hard enough to sting.

Jonah was sleeping the way he never could manage to at night, oblivious to the two men standing over his crib.

“Where’s Leia?” The Mand’alor asked.

“Packing.”

She was joking about it this morning. “What does one wear to an uninhabited swamp planet?” Boba couldn’t play along. His stomach was a knot of dread. Dagobah wasn’t just a swamp planet. It was where Skywalker trained with a Jedi Master in exile. It was where he wanted to train his sister.

And for once, Leia wasn’t saying no.

“I’ll keep an eye on things while you’re gone,” Fenn said. “Don’t worry.”

Mandalore was just one more thing Leia could cast aside if she chose to follow her brother’s path. She would take Jonah with her. He might look more like Boba in coloring and features but he was Leia’s son in one crucial way.

He was like them.

4. Competition

“Come on Jonah. You can do it.” Leia stretched out her arms, her fingertips just short of the toddler’s reach.

“Maybe he’s not ready to walk yet.”

“He can cross the living room with alarming speed when he has furniture to hold on to,” Leia retorted. “Trust me. He’s ready.” Jonah slowly let go of the chair back and Leia dropped to her knees, her arms still outstretched. “That’s it. Walk to Mama.”

Jonah took one determined step forward, pivoted and took four steps until he collided with Boba’s knee. “Da!” He crowed, reaching up. It was so sudden Boba almost forgot to act surprised.

“I guess you’re right,” he said as he gathered the boy up. Jonah had taken his first step two days ago while Leia was still at the Galactic Summit on Sullust. “He is ready.”

Leia sighed, her hands dropping into her lap. “I gave birth to you, you little traitor.”

“Do you want to try again? Maybe he’ll walk to you this time.” Boba started to put him down, but Leia was already rising to her feet.

“No, don’t push him. We’ll have lots of time to work on it while you're working next week.” She kissed Jonah’s round cheek and he giggled. “But you can give him his bath and put him to bed tonight since the two of you are such a good team.” Her commlink chirped and she picked it up. A warm smile crossed her face, and her lips compressed as if she was holding in a laugh.

“Your brother?”

“No. Remember Isolder? From Hapes?”

“The prince.” The prince who wanted to marry Leia and make her queen of Hapes. “His mother hasn’t killed him yet?”

“No. She was deposed and now we’re working together on this new energy bill.”

After she left the room Jonah reached up and patted Boba’s cheek. “Da. Dada.”

“Our job is to make her happy,” he reminded his son. He lifted him up and turned him upside down as he squealed happily. “And speaking of that, you’re going to bed early tonight.”

5. Independence

“Did he fall asleep?”

“Yes. Jonah did too.” Leia climbed into bed beside him and flopped back on her pillow with a weary sigh. “We’ll take him to the med center tomorrow. He’s malnourished and there could be other delays. We should try to get as much information as we can so we know what kind of support he’ll need.”

It was reassuring to know that she was making plans for their newly adopted son. Boba turned to his side to face her. “What made you change your mind?”

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice.” Anger rippled through her voice, reminding him that he was very much still in the strillhouse.

“I said I was-”

She turned and her fingers covered his mouth. “I appreciate your apology. I do. But I’m still furious that you adopted a child without asking me. We have to make these decisions together.”

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “You’re right.”

“No.” She pulled her hand away. “That’s not going to work this time. I’m going to be angry for a while and you’re going to have to deal with it. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do.”

“Good,” she continued in the same hard tone. “Also I’m very proud of you. It doesn’t make me feel any better but I want you to know that.” Leia turned away, pulling the blankets with her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can lie awake all night and think about how you screwed up.”

Fierfek. She knew him too well.

5. Success

They stood in the wreckage of the courtyard, three senators, a traitor and Boba Fett.

“We could just agree to keep quiet about it.” Senator Pooja Naberrie looked at Leia and then at him. She didn’t even need to say it out loud. After years of “keeping it quiet” her colleagues finally knew the truth.

Leia frowned, weighing her options.

It wasn’t going to go well. Her friends and her rivals would use him as an excuse to discredit her and to question her judgement. He was, as he’d told her long ago, a liability. But when he looked around the courtyard again at the homemade explosives she used to defend herself with, he felt nothing but calm.

“If I ask you to keep quiet now then it’s a cover-up,” Leia observed. “And a ticking time bomb. Boba?” She turned to him. The front of her dress was torn and stained with blood.

We have to make these decisions together.

“I know what I signed up for.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little and there was a warmth in her eyes that felt like an embrace. “Thank you,” she said. The adoring look wasn’t just for him, it was for the people standing in this courtyard with them wondering why the hell she was married to him.

He turned his attention to his prisoner. One quick stop in Coruscant to deliver the traitor and then they could pick up the boys. Maybe a small vacation was in order, to ride out the worst of the publicity. A little family time.

Whatever happened, they would face it together.

#boba fett/princess leia #meeting like this au #rebelbounty #angst #feels #prompt fill #my fic

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lemonpeter · 4 years

Text

All For Him (Perfection)

“A cute prompt where Peter wants to go to prom really badly but MJ dumped him recently and Ned is going with Betty so he feels like he can’t go. And flash makes fun of him for being a loser with no date to the prom. So Tony offers to take Peter just to fuck withFlash and they end up being the center of attention obviously and they’re having fun and suddenly they both have an ‘oh’ moment and realize they’re in love and they kiss snd it’s very sweet.”

My prompt fill for @starkerfestivals Fall event 💕 I’m actually really happy with this piece and I hope everyone else enjoys it as much as I do!

Warnings: brief alcohol mention, brief mention of after prom expectations, Peter is 18 (it’s mentioned mid-fic), it’s 99% just fluff I promise

————

Ah, prom season.

Tony couldn’t say that he really remembered his own, if he even went. He had been...what, fifteen? The only thing on his mind at that point had been finishing high school and getting to MIT. Everything he did to piss off his dad came later.

So he probably hadn’t gone. But he was sure that things were different now, anyways.

Elaborate promposals, themed dances, after-parties that rivaled his college days.

Anyways. He hadn’t thought about school formals in- god, decades, probably. Like most people with some sort of life aspirations, he hadn’t thought about it since leaving high school. But it hadn’t even mattered to him then.

But it mattered to Peter, still in school.

Freshly heartbroken, sweet, perfect Peter.

Tony couldn’t believe that anyone would break up with someone like Peter. He was the type of person that people fought over, not someone that got broken up with.

But he had been broken up with all the same. He tried not to act like it bothered him, but he wasn’t good at hiding things like that.

Tony saw the way that his fingers twitched when he grabbed his phone, wanting to text something to MJ. He noticed how Peter’s gaze lingered on a window display of suits advertising ‘It’s Almost Time’. And he saw the tears that filled Peter’s eyes when they witnessed a - incredibly cheesy, unnecessarily extravagant - promposal outside of someone’s building.

And he knew that he would have to do something about that.

———

“Mr. Stark, I can’t,” Peter told him, sighing heavily. “I just can’t. I would look so stupid if I went alone. And it’s too late to ask anyone, everyone already has their dates.”

Not that anyone would want to go with him anyways.

“What about your friend? You know, Fred,” Tony teased, like he didn’t know his name. It was an ongoing joke, so Peter knew he actually did know.

Peter sighed again, resting his forehead against the table. “He’s going with his girlfriend. Betty. I’m pretty sure I already told you this.”

“Right, right. You couldn’t just tag along with them?”

Peter’s head shot up and he made a face. “I am not about to be a third wheel. That’s so embarrassing. And lame. I don’t need extra reasons to be made fun of.”

“Extra?” The older man frowned as he watched him. “Don’t tell me that’s still going on.”

“It’s been a thing since I was in sixth grade, Mr. Stark. It’s not going to stop until graduation, apparently.” Just a few more months away. Thank god.

Tony hummed softly, tapping a finger to his chin. “Well...I mean, that’s not gonna work. You want to go. So you’re going to go. But-“

“I can’t go alone!”

“I was getting to that,” Tony chided. “Don’t interrupt me. If you can’t go alone. But none of your peers are still available. Or up to standards,” he joked lightly. Then he paused for dramatic effect before finishing his thought. “I could just go with you, Peter.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment after that, just taking the words in.

Tony felt that it had been innocent. Just an offer so that the kid would feel okay going to his dance.

But from the way Peter instantly blushed and glanced away, he wasn’t so sure it was received that way.

“What? Would you be embarrassed by me?”

Peter shook his head quickly, eyes wide. “What? No! I just...can’t imagine that you’d want to go. To a high school prom. With...me.”

Tony watched him, eyebrow raised as he listened. “I can’t say that it’s really my scene, but if I’d go with anyone I’d want it to be you. But I’m just going this so you can go and not feel weird, right? And maybe you can show that asshole Flash up.”

The young man was silent for just a moment, obviously thinking it all through.

Tony loved how he could practically see all the thoughts and outcomes swirling in Peter’s head.

Then he nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. You can go with me.” He smiled a bit. “We’ll need to buy you a ticket. And make sure you don’t do anything weird,” he joked lightly with him.

The older man scoffed. “Me? Weird? Oh, quit. We can either be the center of attention or we can blend in with the crowd. I can go with the flow. Whatever you want. I’m not weird...”

Peter laughed, genuine and relaxed. Definitely feeling better.

Tony was just glad that he could help. And if he got to make the kid laugh and smile at him like that? He would have done it again a million times. “So it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal,” he agreed, nodding. “We’ll work out plans later. I’ll...text you?” He asked it as a question because he didn’t want to overstep.

Tony waved a hand. “You text me about everything else, of course you can message me about this. No biggie.”

Nodding, Peter smiled to himself. “Okay. Okay. I’ll gather all the details so we can both be completely prepared.” A pause. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. This...really means a lot to me.”

“No need to thank me. Because I just want you to be happy.”

A smile from Peter. “You’re the best.” He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I’ll text you!”

“Okay, kid.” Tony watched him leave the garage, smiling to himself. He knew that he was way more excited than he should have been.

But Peter just made him like that. He didn’t want to read too much into it. No use thinking into what he didn’t want to discover about himself.

———

He hadn’t heard from Peter for a couple of days and he was a bit worried that he finally scared the man off.

Until he got a large number of sudden texts.

‘Hi Mr. S’

‘*Stark’

‘I got the prices for tickets. It’s kinda a lot so I understand if you don’t want to go’

It was cute, Peter really seemed worried that the tickets would be too expensive for him. But he figured that the younger man just stuck in the mindset that money was always tight.

‘They’re $60 each’

‘I can cover mine, don’t worry’

‘And I still need to rent a suit since the one I have is old’

‘And depressing’

‘But I’m sure you have a suit! So you don’t need to worry about that’

‘Unless you wanna wear a dress. I wouldn’t judge’

Tony chuckled at that. That was always an option, but he figured he would go more traditional if Peter wanted to blend in.

‘But yeah. Just wanted to get back to you about that. Since it’s next week we probably need to make final plans and all’

Smiling to himself, Tony started typing a message back.

‘Ticket prices won’t be a problem, I’ll drop by your school and pick one up later today. And I can handle getting you a suit, no need to rent one that god knows how many other people have worn.’

He watched the dots that signaled Peter was typing. Then they disappeared and he was a bit worried that he overstepped some sort of unspoken boundary.

Then he got a phone call instead, Peter’s adorably awkward contact picture filling his screen.

Of course he answered instantly, putting the phone to his ear. “Yes? I thought your generation hated phone calls, why am I getting one?”

A giggle from the other side. Tony grinned at that, ignoring how his heartbeat sped up ever so slightly at the sound. It meant nothing. He probably had heart issues and should get that checked out.

“Because it’s easier to call and talk things out than to text it all,” Peter told him helpfully.

He was looking through his closet, glaring slightly at the one suit he owned. He didn’t like it, for obvious reasons.

It was his funeral suit. It was also the suit he wore to homecoming his sophomore year. Not good memories. But he knew that suits were expensive and Mr. Stark liked going overboard.

“Were you serious about getting me a suit? Because really- I can just rent one. It’ll be okay. It’s one night.”

Tony made an offended noise. “Absolutely not. I’m getting you one. No date of mine will be showing up in some overpriced, used-“

“Date of yours? It’s my school dance, Mr. Stark,” Peter said flatly. But he was obviously smiling on the other side of the call.

“So? You’ll be with me, you’ll be fitted in the finest thing possible. Come by the tower tomorrow and I’ll have someone here to fit you for a suit. Custom. It’ll be perfect.”

Peter sputtered out a weak argument, but no real words really formed. “No- I can’t- you-“

“Absolutely no arguing with me. This night is going to be perfect for you. In every way.”

A moment of silence and Tony could only imagine the pretty pink blush that was on Peter’s cheeks. No, not pretty. Just-

Yeah, pretty. Sue him.

He was thankfully torn out of his thoughts when Peter cleared his throat before speaking again. It almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

It definitely wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. This...it means a lot to me. That you want to do this with me. And that you’re willing to make it....”

“Perfect,” Tony finished when he trailed off. “Come on, I know this is important to you. Of course I’ll do everything I can to make it good.” He smiled to himself, ignoring the fuzzy warm feeling in his stomach. Damn heartburn. (Right, that’s what it was.) “Thank you for calling. I’ll pick up tickets later, then schedule a tailor to come by tomorrow to fit your suit. Sound good?”

Yeah, that was definitely a choked sob he heard. “Sounds good,” whispered Peter before abruptly hanging up.

Weird kid.

———

Everything had gone smoothly. Tony got their tickets and immediately handed them off to Pepper so they wouldn’t get lost, Peter was fitted for his suit and it was made perfectly, a beautiful bouquet of flowers was purchased, Tony made reservations for dinner, and he had a backup travel plan if Pepper convinced Peter that going in the iron man suit was a bad idea.

And then the night finally arrived.

Peter was nervous. And excited. Mostly excited with a little dash of nervousness.

He couldn’t help it. He was finally going to go to prom, the event hyped up from the time he was in elementary school. Seen in every teen movie, show, anything. Prom was obviously important. And he was definitely one for following important life milestones.

Even if they didn’t quite go as planned.

For one, he had been dumped by his girlfriend just before he was going to ask her to go with him. So that sucked. Then he waited and found no one else to go with. Until Mr. Stark stepped in. Which was an adventure on its own.

God, he was on an emotional roller coaster, up and down and upside down and-

Actually, the roller coaster was a pretty good analogy for what he was feeling. He had a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach, but he knew he was excited and couldn’t wait for what came next.

If only he knew what it meant.

He vaguely heard May open the door and he sucked in a sharp breath, doing a quick last check in the mirror.

He thought he looked good, not to brag. The suit was way more expensive than he even cared to know, but he thought it looked amazing. Sexy, even. The awkward, ugly prom suit stereotype was something he was glad to avoid.

His hair was in its natural curls, hanging loose and slightly messy but in what May assured him was ‘a cute way.’

Maybe it was simple. But it made him extremely happy.

So with that, he made his way out to the living room, unable to help the grin stuck to his face.

May covered her mouth with one hand, the other over her heart. “Oh-“ she walked to him, quickly pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You look so good. Handsome boy.” She smiled at him, gently brushing back his hair.

Peter blushed, laughing softly. “Thanks, May.” He glanced over her shoulder, cheeks flushing even darker when he saw Tony.

The man looked great.

Not that he didn’t always.

He looked like he was going somewhere way nicer than a high school prom. He looked so dapper, perfectly put together.

Peter couldn’t believe that the man had actually put all that effort in for him. To make him happy.

Mr. Stark really must have cared about him.

Then he noticed the huge bouquet of red and white roses that the man was holding. He had no idea how he had missed it in the first place.

He slowly stepped out from May’s touch, shaking his head to make her stop playing with his curls.

She made a sound of protest, but crossed her arms and moved to stand to the side.

Tony smiled fondly at Peter, expression conveying more love than was probably appropriate. Not that he would admit to it. He held out the roses, handing them over to Peter.

“I thought you’d like these,” he murmured, biting back a grin. “And it felt like an appropriate gift, given the circumstances.”

Peter nodded weakly, seeming in awe. He really couldn’t believe any of it was happening to him. It really was looking like the perfect night. He smelled the roses, smiling to himself. “They’re...amazing. Thank you.”

May took them from him, chuckling. “I’m gonna need two or three vases to fit all these....” she sighed, smiling. “But before I do that- ground rules. You.” She pointed at Tony. “I expect him home some time tonight. I say by...three. Not that you two will be attending any sort of party afterwards, that’s still the curfew.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. There wasn’t a point, it wasn’t like they’d be going anywhere after the dance. It wasn’t like they were an actual couple. They were going as friends. Friends didn’t have the same sort of after-prom expectations.

“Okay,” Tony agreed. “I’ll have him home by then, no worries.”

“Good. Next, if you do anything that embarrasses him or gives him a bad reputation these last couple months, I will hunt you down and kill you myself,” she threatened.

Tony snorted to himself, but nodded. “Of course. I’m just following his lead, he’s in charge here.” He winked at Peter quickly.

Peter shivered at that. He wasn’t quite sure what the older man meant with the action. He was in change for the night? Did he just mean because it was his prom or was there some other meaning he wasn’t aware of?

He couldn’t decide. So he just laughed a little and nodded.

“Right. That brings me to my final point,” May told them (but mostly Tony.) “Remember your relationship. He’s eighteen, Stark. Don’t do anything foolish in public that will bring bad press around either of you.”

Tony nodded instantly, but he felt like he was lying to her. He didn’t like that at all. “Of course. I wouldn’t even dream of making him look bad. And Pep has dealt with enough bad press from me, I don’t want to make things tougher on her.” As though the situation didn’t already look odd. “You don’t need to worry. Everything is going to be smooth, I won’t fuck anything up.”

May huffed. “You always seem to fuck something up. So your word doesn’t mean much. But you’d better keep to that. I don’t want to wake up to tabloids with the front picture being you groping my barely-legal nephew.”

“No problem, ma’am. Things won’t go south. Have some faith in me.”

“No.”

Tony huffed a laugh. “Okay. Fine.” He watched Peter, shooting him a sly smile. “Ready to go?”

The young man nodded, beaming. He went to Tony’s side, biting his lip as the man held his arm out. So he gently held onto his arm. “Bye, May. We’ll be- well, I’ll be back later. Love you!”

The woman laughed softly. “Have fun, Peter. But not too much fun, okay? And try not to just watch MJ all night.”

Oh, that wouldn’t be a problem. Peter already knew that if he was going with Mr. Stark, he wouldn’t have to worry about pining after MJ. Even if he didn’t want to think too much into why that was.

“I won’t, don’t worry. Love you, byyyyyye!” He called, trailing the last word as he left the apartment with Tony and closed the door behind them.

And with that, their night began.

———

Dinner was just incredible. Fancier than anything Peter had ever been to, for sure. But being with Mr. Stark somehow made it feel casual.

They left the restaurant and got back into Tony’s car - Peter had vetoed just being carried while Tony flew in the iron man suit.

Being in the fancy car, going to a school dance, was a bit too reminiscent of Homecoming and wrecking Flash’s car on the way to the Vulture’s lair. At least he wasn’t driving. And he was determined that he’d actually be staying at this dance.

Tony seemed to notice how he spaced out and hummed, gently setting one hand on his leg with the other still on the wheel.

Peter’s head jerked up at the action, eyes wide. “Huh?”

The hand was pulled away and Tony smiled weakly. “Sorry. Didn’t really think that one through. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He cleared his throat. “Having second thoughts?”

“What? No. No second thoughts. Thinking about....” he winced, shaking his head. “Just- really glad this time there’s no chance of my date’s dad trying to kill me.”

The older man laughed at that, a bit taken by surprise. But he was glad that Peter wasn’t having second thoughts. “Yeah, absolutely no chance for that. Don’t worry.”

They rode in relative silence after that, listening to whatever Tony had playing through the speakers. Some band that Peter probably knew the name of but would purposely get it wrong anyways.

Then they arrived at the venue. Tony parked the car, raising an eyebrow when he saw the ride next to them.

Peter easily identified it as Flash’s and had to keep Tony from ‘accidentally’ denting the door when he opened his own. That wouldn’t be okay, bully or not.

So Tony refrained from causing any harm to the vehicle, going to the passenger’s side and opening the door for Peter. He then held his arm out, smiling fondly at the young man.

The night was theirs.

Peter knew that Tony would have followed his wishes to stay under the radar and blend in, but sometimes it wasn’t up to them.

They were seen as soon as they stepped into the doors, whispers erupting throughout the room.

“There is no way,” someone nearby hissed.

Peter wished that his super hearing would calm down. He didn’t want to hear everyone’s disbelief at who he was there with. But he couldn’t really control that.

Then he heard the voice he absolutely dreaded. “Hey, Penis Parker!” Called Flash.

Peter couldn’t see him, but he even sounded smug. “What do you want?” He asked tiredly.

Flash materialized, leaning his elbow on Peter’s shoulder.

The other man tried to pull back, wrinkling his nose at the alcoholic smell coming off of Flash. The night had barely begun, that was fast.

“So,” he addressed Tony. “Is this like a charity thing? Taking a poor loser to his prom? Because-“

“Excuse me?” Tony sounded genuinely offended. On Peter’s behalf? Huh. “It’s not any sort of ‘thing’ other than taking my friend and colleague to an event. Because some people, like Peter here, can actually win their dates over with incredible personality.”

Flash started sputtering an apology, moving away from Peter. “Look- I didn’t- I- it was just a joke! Me and him are friends, we can joke like that!”

Peter gave him a look, lips pressed together. “I...no. Bye, Flash. Stay mad,” he commented, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him away.

Tony just wrapped a gentle arm around him, leaning in close as they walked away. “Cmon, ignore everyone else. We’re here to have some fun, right? Let’s dance.” He grinned, pulling Peter out onto the floor.

Everyone already knew that they were there. Why try to hide? They were going to have fun and everyone was going to know it.

Tony grabbed Peter’s hands, doing an odd little dance with him to whatever the song was. He couldn’t recognize it, he just knew that it had a fairly danceable beat.

Relief flooded him when Peter started to relax. His eyes no longer darted around at the stares and whispers and instead he was focused on Tony.

They danced, probably looking completely silly as they wiggled and spun each other to the music. But Peter was enjoying himself. And that was all that mattered to Tony.

As the song faded out and another one started playing in, Peter laughed, the sound clear despite the loud background.

Nothing else mattered. All that mattered was their little bubble of perfection. He and Peter. No one else.

The young man’s hair was tousled, curls loose since he had decided not to gel them down. He looked like an angel, soft and happier than Tony had ever seen him. As happy as he deserved to be all the time.

Peter deserved perfection and nothing else. Tony was just glad that he could contribute.

Then a slower song started and Peter awkwardly pulled away. “We can...sit this one out. It might be weird if we did this one. Just friends and all....” he didn’t look at Tony, eyes on the floor.

The older man watched him, slowly holding his hand out. “Peter, we can do this if you want to.”

The young man’s silence, but hopeful look towards the hand told him all that he needed to know.

“Will you dance with me, Peter?”

God, Peter’s heart was beating way too fast. But he was going to dance with Mr. Stark. And not how they had been before- this was intimate. Close. Something for- for lovers. Not friends, like they were.

But something in him desperately wanted it to mean more.

So he slowly looked up again, taking his hand and allowing himself to be brought close.

Tony smiled at him, expression soft and loving and definitely going to give him away. But he found that he really didn’t care. Not anymore.

He held Peter against his chest gently, swaying to the delicate crooning of the lyrics of whatever song was playing. He didn’t care what it was. All he cared about was Peter.

It was all about Peter.

The young man looked up at him, cheeks flushed lightly. He looked so beautiful. And happy. Everything he deserved.

“Mr. Stark....” he said quietly, heartbeat picking up.

“Please, call me Tony. It makes me feel incredibly wrong if you keep calling me Mr. Stark,” he murmured, still holding onto him and watching him.

“What do you mean? Wrong?” Peter asked, confused.

Tony sighed softly. “God, Peter. I shouldn’t tell you this. I shouldn’t be- okay. Okay. I can do this.”

The younger man could hear how his heart started racing.

“You’re...perfect. In every way. And doing this with you was a bit selfish on my part,” Tony started. “I know I just wanted to make sure you could come here and have fun. But being like this with you? I like it. Too much.” He started to let go, but Peter didn’t let him.

“Tony,” Peter said softly, beaming up at him. “Oh, I’m so glad I’m not alone.”

Tony wasn’t sure how to take that. Was it about the dance? Or what?

But he didn’t get much time to ponder it before Peter was leaning in and kissing him.

Oh.

The kiss wouldn’t have been anything special, it was little more than a peck in reality. But the fact that it was with Peter. His Peter. That made it special.

They broke apart only seconds later, both smiling big before leaning in for a second kiss.

“I love you,” Peter whispered, tucking his face into Tony’s neck.

Tony smiled to himself, swaying to the song again as he kept holding Peter. His Peter. “I love you too.”

And everything was perfect.

#bri speaks #starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #peter parker x tony stark #my writing #starkerfestivalsevents #starker fic #starker fluff

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eadanga · 2 years

Text

Rivals Part 2

Summary: When Jack meets Hailey he falls madly in love with her despite her being the daughter of his dad’s rival. Will they be able to be together despite the disapproval of their dads?

Paring: JackxMC

Hailey lies down on her couch as she watches TV. She smiles as she thinks back to the other day and sighs Not gonna lie that guy was really cute wonder who he was? She shrugs Eh probably never gonna see him again but still wish I got his number. She continues to scroll through the TV channels till her phone buzzes on the table

“Hi dad”

“Hey sweetie there’s gonna be a party tonight with a lot of businessmen think you can come”

“Sure but why dad?”

“Because I thought you may enjoy it besides it’ll be a father daughter thing to do”

Hailey giggles “Ok dad I’ll be there”

“Thank sweetie see you there”

Hailey smiles as she hangs up the phone then she sighs “Hope he doesn’t push more business talk”

****

Jack walks down the hallway and approaches his secretary’s desk “Hey Layla can you send these emails for me?”

Layla gives him a flirty smirk “Oh of course Jack”

“Thanks”

“Are you going to the party tonight?”

“Yes I am another boring party I’ve got to attend”

“Well maybe we can go together? You know so it’s not boring”

“Yeah I would love a friend there see you there” Jack walks off

“Yeah…friend well at least he said yes” Layla smirks “Once he sees how beautiful I look he’s so going to date me”

Jack walks over to the office and sees his dad approaching him “Hey you’re already for tonight?”

“Yeah it’ll great”

“Listen there’s gonna be investors there that can double the company funds win them try to win them over for me”

“You got it dad” Jack struts off and walks into his office he sighs “These parties are so boring but it’s part of the job to come” Then he smiles I wonder how that girl from the other day is hope she fixed her car she was really pretty I really hope I can see her again

****

“Hmm” Hailey admires herself in the mirror running her hands down her sides of her long midnight blue shimmery dress then she smiles “Perfect” She grabs her purse and heads out the door. After catching a cab she heads inside the hotel where her Julius waits. He smiles when he sees her

“Hails you made it”

“Yes dad there’s a lot of people here”

“Yup you know they throw this party every year all the businessmen are here including you know who”

Hailey sighs “Dad don’t do you dumb feud here”

“I won’t sweetheart now let me introduce you to people” He takes her by the hand and brings her to the middle of the room where a bunch of people stood “Everyone this is my daughter Hailey”

An older man in the middle of the crowd raises his glass “Nice to meet you your father tells us that you’re a makeup artist and fashion designer”

“Yeah I’m trying to put myself out there make a name for myself”

“That’s great you’ll be able to be great fashion businesswoman like your dad’s a great businessman”

Julius smiles “Yeah she also could be great in this industry too”

Hailey snatches her hand away “Dad please do this here”

“Honey I was just saying -”

“I need a minute” Hailey walks away to the far corner of the room grumbling He did it again it’s my life not his ugh I need a drink

*****

Jack enters the ballroom with his dad and Layla. Harrison straightens his tie “Ah here we are now time to mingle you kids enjoy yourselves” As he walks into the crowd Layla grabs Jacks arm

“Jack how about we dance?”

Jack shrugs “Eh sure”

Layla pulls him onto the dance floor and they sway together Layla looks at him with a flirty smile “Isn’t this fun Jack?”

“Yeah…real fun” He looks in the other direction until he notices her getting closer What is she doing? He pulls away from her “I’m getting a drink you want one?”

“Oh sure” As Jack walks away Layla huffs So close

Jack heads to the bar and orders a drink “One scotch please” The bartender nods and hands him his drink he sighs as he takes a sip. He hears another sigh behind him and notices a girl sitting down at the bar

“Can I get a glass of wine?”

I know that voice “Hailey?”

She turns and faces him “Jack fancy meeting you here”

“You too what brings you here?”

“Came with my dad he’s always making me come to these boring parties”

“Mines the same so boring” He takes another sip of his drink

“Then my dad did the same thing he always does indicates that he wants me to take over”

“He’s really pushing it huh?”

“Yeah it’s so annoying”

Jack places his hand on his shoulder “Well don’t worry about it if he can’t accept it that’s his problem”

“Thanks you’re lucky you don’t have problems”

“Oh I do my dad just brings me here so he can brag about what a successful son he has and make himself look good. Brought one of my co workers to make it less boring she tried to make a move on me but I don’t like her like that”

Hailey raises her glass “To a terrible time?”

“You said it” Jack clinks his glass with hers they both sigh “Hey you wanna slip out of here?”

“Really? What about”

“She’ll be fine how about we go to the roof top I hear the views are amazing”

Hailey smiles “Ok let’s go” Jack takes her hand and they slip out the party and head to the elevator. They head to the roof and Hailey’s eyes widen as she takes in the view “This is amazing I love this view”

“Me too better than being in that boring stuffy party right?”

“Hell yeah”

Jack chuckles as they sit down “I don’t believe you’ve told me all about yourself”

“Well nothing much to tell only child raised by my dad mom died when I was young so it’s always been me and dad”

“I’m sorry to hear about you mom”

“It was a long time ago what about you”

“Well only child as well also raised by dad parents divorced when I was little mom lives in another state I see her every summer and holiday”

“Awww that’s cute what’s she like?”

“Amazing she’s basically my best friend”

“Cute momma’s boy”

Jack laughs “Ha ha very funny”

Hailey giggles as she looks up at the sky “This is nice Jack”

“It is” He looks over to her and his heart start to race Why is my heart beating so fast? She is beautiful in the moonlight He hears the party winding down “We should head back before anyone sees us missing”

“Right but this was a nice break”

“Yeah hey can I get your number? We can hang out for real”

“Of course Jack” They trade phones and put each other’s numbers in “There you go you can call me anytime”

“So can you let’s go”

They head back to the party looking for their dads Hailey points “Oh there’s my dad”

Jack looks at him eyes wide and turns back to her “Wait your dad is Harrison Pierce?”

“Yeah who’s your dad?”

“Julius Monroe”

Hailey takes a step back “Well this is awkward I’m talking to the son of the guy my dad hates”

“This is gonna be so complicated”

“Do you agree their feud is dumb?”

“Oh it’s real dumb”

Hailey smiles “Then we have nothing to worry about whatever is happening it’s between them”

Jack smiles “You’re right so how about lunch tomorrow?”

“I’d love that”

“Great see you then” Jack waves and heads over to where his dad and Layla are standing

Layla crosses her arms “Where’d you go? I’ve been waiting”

“I was just taking a breather”

“Come on Jack let’s take Layla home and get out of here”

“Right dad”

****

Hailey heads over to her dad “Sweetie there you are I’ve been looking all over for you”

“Well I’m here was just exploring”

“Listen sweetheart”

“Forget it dad let’s just head out”

Harrison sighs “Alright” As everyone shuffles out the hotel Hailey notices Jack smiling as he watches her leave she smiles and gives him a small wave

Tags: @indiacater @mfackenthal @the-soot-sprite

#ms match #jack monroe #jack x mc #choices fanfiction #choices fan fiction

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

Dancing our dance

Summary: Sina was a city of wretched and helpless. A place governed by misery, terror and ruthless, cold-hearted criminals.

As horrible as it was, however, there were quite a few things that made Levi’s life in this city almost enjoyable.

A ganster!AU and Levihan Secret Santa gift for collapsability! Happy New Year <33

Sina. The greatest city on Earth. The place of flourish and success. A metropolis of wretched and damned. A place, where rich and elite could only prosper, multiplying their wealth and increasing their status, while hungry and poor were fighting each other for the smallest scraps of food.

Levi had experienced the worst of both worlds. He knew the desperation, the hunger that gnawed at him while he lived in the slumbers with rats as his company. And he was familiar with comfort and luxuries of life as a rich man. He also knew the danger, the constant fear that one mistake, a single wrong move could cost him not only his carefully cumulated wealth, but his life as well.

Considering his lifestyle, Levi was sure he wouldn't have lived for long. And he wouldn't have, if he hadn't stuck to the winning team.

Erwin Smith was sharp, calculating and ruthless. His biggest talent, though, was his exceptional ability to surround himself with the best of the best and inspire undying loyalty in them. Levi was good, excellent with guns and even better with knifes, but he wasn't the only member of Erwin's gang. There was Mike - an expert brawler and a man of few words, which made him even more valuable, Nanaba - an elite sniper and doctor, and, of course, Hange Zoe – a genius scientist and a massive pain in Levi's ass. She was loud, messy and had an uncanny ability to attract all sorts of trouble. Which made Levi's life just that much harder, since most of the times, Erwin made them work side by side.

Hange was smart, unbelievably so, but she was also so, so careless that Levi had to watch her every move, afraid that if he so much as looks away, Hange would instantly get swept in some trouble.

Even now, as he was sitting inside the overcrowded, bustling with people Wings of Freedom - a popular night club, owned by Erwin, - Levi couldn't take his eyes off Hange.

Wings of Freedom was the place for the richest, most famous citizens of Sina. No one could get in, if they weren't approved by Erwin and his gang first. Despite the harsh restrictions and the overpriced alcohol that was served there, it was always full of customers. The success of the club was well-deserved, though. The alcohol, as expensive as it was, was also good. It wasn’t watered down like in the rest of speakeasies. And Levi couldn’t deny it, the interior of the club was breathtaking. As a former street rat, Wings of Freedom was a definition of wealth and prestige for him. It was a grand, spectacular thing with high glass ceilings, large, bright candelabras, red carpets on the floor and big, bright stage. Only the best musicians were allowed to perform in there, and Levi had no doubts about the vast talent that the current artists possessed. However, he was too preoccupied with boring holes into a certain four-eyed idiot to appreciate their efforts.

The dance floor, situated right beneath the stage, was as overflowing with people as the rest of the speakeasy. But Levi could recognize that mop of brown messy hair everywhere, and he watched it move around intently. Hange was in the middle of dance floor, spinning some unknown woman in a frilly yellow dress. Despite the uncomfortable feeling and overprotective instinct that appeared upon watching someone else touch Hange, Levi couldn't help but admire her movements. As clumsy as she could be, in a fight or a dance, Hange was as graceful as they come. Levi lost himself in following every move of her body, the way she spun, jumped and waved her hands. She was doing all of it so effortlessly, wearing an excited grin on her face.

Suddenly Hange looked away from her dance partner. Their eyes met, that little spark inside her gaze evident even from great distance. She winked at him, and Levi felt his face flush. He lifted his glass, gulping the contents down in one go. The whiskey burned his throat and he winced, turning away from Hange. He looked around, desperate to find something else to preoccupy himself with. Distraction came fairly quickly in the form of big oak door that opened at the other way of the room.

Looks like the big man is here, Levi sighed, getting to his feet and starting to descend down the stairs to the dance floor. It was time to retrieve Hange.

It was time for work.

***

Hange jumped, when Levi pulled her closer by the back of her suspenders. She whirled around, wide eyed and surprised.

"Levi!" she raised her voice, panting slightly. Even met with his scowl, the grin didn't leave her face. On the contrary, it only grew wider. "Finally came down to join me?"

Levi glanced at Hange's partner, who was awkwardly stomping behind, unsure of what to do. "You know I don't dance," he shook his head. "So say goodbye to your girlfriend and let's go. Erwin is here."

"Already?" Hange whined. "But I was having so much fun!"

"Tough shit," Levi answered, glaring at the girl Hange was having so much fun with.

"You owe me a dance then," she pointed a finger at Levi. "And I don't take no for an answer," she added, shutting down any possible protest.

"Let's finish the work first," Levi grunted. He didn't say yes to Hange's demand.

He didn't say no either.

"Hurry up then!" Hange exclaimed, linking her arm with Levi's and dragging him up the stairs. She didn't say goodbye, didn't even glance at the girl she was dancing with.

Levi hid a satisfied smirk.

***

Erwin, when they approached him, looked as immaculate as always. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on his pristinely white shirt. It was always so hot in Wings of Freedom and Levi wondered how much Erwin must be sweating in his grey three-piece suit. Levi himself, as meticulous as he was about his appearance, had taken off his jacket, wearing a dark blue vest with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows. And Hange wasn't even wearing a vest, but only a stripped light colored shirt.

"Hi, Erwin," Hange slide in a booth from the left side and pecked him on a cheek.

"Good evening, Hange," Erwin smiled. "I saw you were having a lot of fun."

"That I did," she grinned. “Unfortunately, it was cut off so abruptly,” she noted, glaring at Levi.

"What do you need us to do?" ignoring Hange’s petulance, Levi sat down as well, taking a seat at Erwin’s right side.

Erwin's smile turned into a serious frown.

"I have found an informant. He knows something, I'm sure, but he refused to talk with Mike. Maybe, you'll have more luck with him.

"Informant?" Hange asked, surprised. "Does he know something about—"

"Yes," Erwin answered, clenching his jaw. "He knows about Titans."

Levi's eyes darkened as soon as he heard that name. Titans were a rival gang, who terrorized the city every night. As powerful as Erwin was, he couldn't get rid of them. They lurked in the shadows, hidden from everyone. As ferocious as they were, no one even knew who their leader was. Levi didn't care. Whoever that bastard was, he was going to kill them, along with every member. He swore to do it years ago. On his friend's graves. Sweet, innocent Isabel and wise, reliable Farlan - his first true friends. Levi would never forget them. And he would make sure that those who had taken them from him would pay for their mistake.

A warm, comforting touch interrupted his dark thoughts. Levi looked up, meeting Hange's gaze. She smiled at him, worry swirling in her warm brown eyes.

Levi turned away from her, directing his stare at Erwin. Before Hange took away her hand, however, Levi patted it softly, silently thanking for the concern.

"So we need to find that informant and make him spill the info?" Hange clarified.

"Basically, yes. Here," he handed Hange a small file. She opened it instantly, pushing the glasses up her nose and quickly scanning over the pages. "Your target is the man named Nick. He lives in downtown and works in the nearby church as a pastor—"

"Pastor?" Hange looked up, wearing a mischievous grin. "That's intriguing."

Erwin turned his stern gaze at her. "Don't overdo it, Hange We need him alive. And, preferably, mentally stable."

Hange scoffed, crossing hands on her chest. "Don't know what you're talking about. I've never—"

"Really, four-eyes? Remember that guy who—"

"That was one time!" Hange cut him off, before Levi could finish. Erwin didn't need to know about that time. "And he was an asshole and totally deserved it."

"And what about that other guy—"

"It was an accident!" Hange gritted through her teeth, her fists clutched tightly together.

"Calm down," Erwin scolded them, covering his eyes with a hand and letting out an exhausted sigh. "I swear to god, sometimes you both act like you're still children."

"I'm nothing like her—"

“Considering his height, he’s still—"

"Enough!" Erwin barked, exasperated. "Just go already. Before I develop a migraine."

"He started it first," Hange pouted. As soon, as Erwin looked away, she stuck her tongue out.

Levi didn't retaliate. He was going to behave. At least, while Erwin is watching.

"Let's go, four-eyes," he got to his feet, waiting for Hange to join him.

"Oh, right!" she exclaimed, smacking her forehead in frustration. "I totally forgot, we should hurry!"

Erwin arched an eyebrow. "Are you late for something?"

"Oh, you don't know it yet," with a sly smile, Hange leaned closer to Erwin's ear, although, she didn't bother to lower her voice. "Levi asked me for a dance afterward."

"I didn't not," Levi grunted, trying (and failing) to keep a straight, calm face under Erwin's amused gaze.

"I've never seen Levi dance," he commented, scratching his chin. "You should truly hurry, Hange. I want to see him dance too. It's once in a lifetime occurrence after all."

"Roger that, boss!" Hange did a mocking salute and then grabbed Levi's hand, dragging him out of the club.

Levi surrendered with a heavy sigh. Now there was no way he could avoid this dancing stuff.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning to Levi with a lopsided grin.

***

The first thing Hange did as she walked out of the car that Levi parked near the pastor's house was putting on her hat. She made sure that the accessory sat comfortably and then ran a hand over the brim.

"Awful," he replied dryly. "What is our plan?"

"The usual," Hange shrugged. She didn't bat an eye at Levi's jab, continuing to casually stroll through the street. "I do the talking, you do your scary face thing."

"Alright," Levi agreed easily. The plan suited him well. Never failed them before too.

"Huh," Hange whistled, putting hands on her hips and staring up at the building in front of her. "That's quite a nice house. Do you think all pastors earn that much?"

"Do I look like a pastor to you? How the fuck should I know?"

"You could pull off pastor's look, though," Hange continued, cheerful, despite his harsh words. "If you ever need to go undercover..."

Ignoring her blubbering and pushing past her, Levi stepped on a venue leading up to the front door. His eyes narrowed, as he stared at the house in front of him. He glanced to his wrist watch. He frowned.

"It's almost midnight..."

"And yet our pastor is still awake," Hange threw an arm over his shoulder, watching the house as well. "Maybe, he's insomniac?"

"Only one way to find out," Levi pointed his chin towards the door and made another step towards the house.

"Wait," Hange's hand caught his wrist. Levi turned back, alarmed by the sudden seriousness of her tone.

"Before we go inside... I need to know what you prefer the most - Charleston, Fox-Trot or Texas Tommy?"

Levi needed a few seconds to realize what the fuck Hange was on about. He blinked a few times, staring at her with a dumbfounded face. And when it finally hit him, he snatched his hand out of her grasp. Hange was such an idiot, why he even bothered to listen to her?

"I didn't agree to dance with you, four-eyes," he scowled at her. Under the weight of his gaze, anyone else would have shrined in fear. Hange just smirked. Levi resisted the urge to lash out on her or leave her to deal with the shitty pastor alone. Would have served her right for being such a jerk. He took a deep breath, calming himself down. There was a job they needed to finish. He wouldn't let Hange's idiocy distract him from that.

"Focus on a task on hand please," he told her, trying to keep his voice steady.

"And when we finish?"

Levi sent her another sizzling gaze. It produced no effect whatsoever.

He took another breath. "And then we'll see. The club could be closed by the time we're done here."

"It closes at dawn," Hange stated matter-of-fact.

Levi muttered a few curses. She was doing this on purpose. Riling him up just to make him lose it. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Turning away from her and ignoring Hange’s annoyed mumbling, Levi reached the front door and knocked.

It was quiet for the first few seconds. Then the sound of shuffling could be heard. A moment later, the door opened, revealing a balding middle-aged man.

Hange took a step forward, waving her hand gleefully.

The man's eyes widened. He tried to slam the door closed. Levi's leg didn't give him a chance to.

"Pastor Nick, right? We just came here to talk!" Hange grinned. "There is no need to be afraid! We're—"

"I know who you are," pastor's lip was trembling. Levi absentmindedly wondered if he would start crying. He hoped not. He hated when people cry. "You... You're Erwin Smith's devil duo."

Hange nudged Levi in the side, almost glowing with happiness. "They have a nickname for us, Levi. We're getting famous!"

"We're criminals, Hange," Levi coughed, trying to mask the affection in his voice. As annoying as Hange could be, she was also so fucking endearing. "We shouldn't be famous."

“Still,” Hange flipped the hat on her head, still grinning from ear to ear. “It’s nice to know we have a reputation.”

"And you," Hange said to pastor, her eyes turning sharp. "If you know so much about us, you should know that we don't harm innocent, so if you got nothing to hide, you've got nothing to be afraid of," she spread her arms, putting on a friendly, sweet smile. Beside her, Levi rolled his eyes. Hange's theatrics were over the top sometimes. Almost no one bought her act anyway.

Pastor Nick wasn't an exception.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Levi warned, when pastor reached with his hand to the side of the door.

"I know nothing!" pastor Nick threw hands in the air. "Your boss just got some false data."

Levi cocked his eyebrow, giving pastor a look full of disbelief. Erwin sending them on a mission before checking his information as thorough as possible and making sure it wasn’t just a dumb rumor? Highly unlikely.

"Maybe, you could just allow us to come inside? We'll have a nice little chat and then we'll decide if what you know is worthy for us or no," Hange's smile grew wider and Levi's scowl grew darker and pastor's resolve crumbled.

With a deep, shaky sigh, he took a step back, allowing them to enter.

"And we did it!" Hange whispered, clasping Levi on a back.

"We're not done yet," he reminded her, eyeing the pastor with suspicion. The way he acted... so desperate to make them leave... Levi couldn't help but wonder what pastor was trying to hide. What he was afraid of? Was he simply frightened by the fact that they're gangsters? Possibly, but if he had the info on Titans, he must have been quite familiar with the criminal underworld. Besides, they weren't asking to join their ranks, just spill some intel. And it wasn't like Hange was lying, they never harmed innocents. Even more, Erwin always offered protection to the ones who aided him.

Could it be that pastor wasn't afraid of them? Then who was it? Titans?

"Levi?" Hange interrupted his thoughts by patting his shoulder. Levi met her eyes, turning away from pastor. She held his gaze, nodding ever so slightly. So he wasn't seeing things. Hange was suspecting something too. "Would you make us some tea, please? While me and pastor talk?"

"Of course," he agreed. This too was the part of their routine. According to Hange, it was easier to win the target's trust if Levi wasn't in the room with them and his cold steely eyes weren't boring holes into them. This tactic always worked and Levi had no reason to doubt it this time too. Still he was reluctant to leave Hange alone with pastor. That look in his eyes, Levi didn't like it.

"I'll be fine," Hange smiled faintly, noticing Levi's unwillingness. "Besides, you're just a room away."

“Of course, you’re right. Just don’t lose your focus, Hange.”

With one last look at pastor, Levi turned away, heading in the direction that he hoped would lead him to the kitchen.

Levi's guess was corrected.

When he entered the dark room and turned on a switch, he saw a spacious and neat room with fridge, cupboards, oven and sink. He went straight to the oven, meaning to heat up the cattle. His eyebrows furrowed when he touched the cattle. It was hot as though it was recently heated up. Was their pastor a fan of midnight tea? Or was he expecting someone?

Instinctively, Levi glanced behind his back, at the wall that separated kitchen from the living room. A hushed voice could be heard from inside the room. It was calm and persuading and it belonged to Hange. Some tension left his body, as Levi listened to it. The voice was too soft to hear what Hange was actually talking about, but, nevertheless, it calmed him down. Levi turned around, intent to finish his job. The water was already boiled. Now he needed to find some tea. And cups, where he could pour it.

He lifted his eyes. There were six cupboards hanging on the wall. Levi chose the closest to him and opened it. Seasonings and eggs. He sighed and opened the next one. It held napkins and towels. He moved further. This cupboard was used for storing pans, the next one - cots. Levi cursed and slammed it shut with more force than necessary. The tableware inside rattled dangerously. He ignored it, opening the fifth cupboard, this one with plates. Levi’s expression relaxed a bit, he was getting closer. He looked inside the last one, and finally, this one held cups. Standing on his tiptoes, he took three cups out and put them on a table. Then he returned to the first cupboard, the one with seasonings and rummaged through it, looking for any kind of tea. Surprisingly, pastor's collection was quite large. Levi's respect for the man grew, as he found his favorite kind of tea – lapsang souchong.

As he waited for the tea to brew, Levi studied the kitchen. Hange was right, the house looked too good to belong to a simple pastor. How an old man who lived alone could afford it? And how could he afford so many kinds of tea? Even Levi's collection wasn't so vast, and he frequently used his connections to get the best kinds, since some of them weren't even distributed in their city. But how could pastor get his hands on them? And was it connected to the fact that he knew something about Titans? Too many unknowns in this seemingly simple equation. Levi didn't like it. However, it wasn't his job to think about it. Hange was the brain of their duo after all.

His job right now involved brewing a tea. He poured it into the cups and put them on a tray. Then be added three spoons of sugar into Hange's cup. He stirred it carefully and then picked up the tray, heading to the living room.

Hopefully, Hange was done with pestering their target.

***

"Here you are," Hange spoke warmly. She rose to her feet and helped Levi set the tray onto a coffee table. Sitting down next to her on the sofa, Levi handed Hange and pastor, who was sitting in a big armchair, their teacups. Hange accepted hers with a grateful smile. Pastor scoffed with a disgruntled expression.

"Do you really think I'm dumb enough to drink whatever you put in your so called tea?”

"If I wanted to kill you," Levi said in a dark, low voice. "I wouldn't have used poison, you dipshit."

"We've already established the fact that we very much need you alive, pastor. And besides," Hange grinned, a bright contrast to Levi's gloomy look. "Levi takes great pride in his tea making abilities. As he should," she noted, lifting the cup to her lips, taking the first sip. "Mm," she closed her eyes, a blissful expression on her face. "The best tea in the city."

"Don't exaggerate, Hange," Levi scolded harshly, ignoring the warm sensation that spread through his veins at her praise. “Just because I can actually brew something better than that piss you called tea, doesn’t mean it’s the best tea.”

Hange started laughing – as always loudly and unabashedly, with her head thrown back and her hair flying everywhere. She spilled some of her tea in the process and Levi tsked, taking a handkerchief out of his pants and throwing it at Hange.

“Erwin Smith’s devil duo, huh?” pastor Nick mumbled, too quiet for either of them to hear. “They’re quite a pair.”

Everything that happened next, happened way too quickly.

Pastor took the cup into his hands, intending to take a taste of the tea Hange was praising so much. Levi turned to stare at him, curious for his reaction. Hange followed the suit, the hand that wasn’t holding her own cup, thrown over Levi’s shoulders. The cup almost touched pastor’s lips, when the front door of the house was thrown open. The man appeared – dressed in a long coat, his face obscured by shadows. He ran into the living room, and took out a gun. Levi jumped to his feet, ready to attack, but before he could do anything, two gunshots rang. With wide eyes, Levi stared at the pastor’s now dead body with a hole in the center of his forehead.

He was frozen for merely a second, a second too long. By the time he snapped out of it, the shooter was already gone. Levi rushed after him, running through the front door and onto the porch. It was empty, no sight of the culprit. He looked around the empty, silent and lamp-lit street. Nothing. He gritted his teeth, kicking the curb in frustration.

Titans, for he was sure it was their work, had killed another innocent right in front of him. And just like the first time, just like with Farlan and Isabel, there was nothing he could do to stop them. At the memory of his late friends, Levi was overcome with frustration. He promised to protect them, and failed. He promised to avenge them, and failed again.

Useless. He was fucking useless. What good his skills did, if he couldn’t protect the ones closest to him?

The silence of the street around him was deafening, pressing onto Levi from all sides. Quiet, it was too quiet. Why was it so quiet here? It shouldn’t be, Levi realized with a start. Hange was with him, it shouldn’t be so goddamn quiet.

And then it hit him. Hange. Where the fuck was she? Why wasn’t she by his side, searching for the killer with him? Another revelation almost knocked the air out of Levi. There were two gunshots. What if the other one wasn’t meant for pastor?

With heart in his throat, Levi dashed back inside. Something close to a prayer was going through his head, as he tried to push the image of Hange’s bloodied, lifeless body out of his mind.

No, he won’t let that happen. He won’t lose another friend.

"Hange?" Levi called, stumbling inside. "Hange, where are you?"

There was no answer. Why was there no answer?

The seconds it took for him to reach the living room felt like years. More than anything, Levi was afraid to arrive too late. He couldn't repeat the same mistake. Not with Hange.

As he entered the living room, Levi's knees nearly gave out and a wave of relief washed over him. Hange— she was alive.

He hastily approached her, grabbing her elbows and turning her around to face him. His eyes skimmed along her body, searching for any sight of the injury. Despite her labored breathing, Hange seemed to be unharmed. Levi looked her over more carefully and his heart skipped a beat, when he saw a small dark spot on her otherwise clean shirt. His fingers touched that place gingerly.

"It's not mine," Hange said, and the hollowness of her voice took Levi's breath away. He lifted his gaze, staring at her face. Only now he noticed the blood on her cheek. She must have stood next to pastor, when he was shot, he realized. What frightened Levi more, however, was the faraway look in her eyes. She was in shock, Levi guessed. He needed to calm her down and then get her out of here.

"They killed him..." Hange whispered. She turned around, staring at the pastor's body so intently, it made a shiver run down Levi's spine.

He curled his fingers around her wrist, his every move slow and careful.

"Hange, we need to go," he pulled at her hand, tugging her closer. "The cops are going to be there soon, we should leave."

"Yeah," Hange nodded. She wasn't completely with him yet, and Levi wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her outside and then into the car. Opening the passenger door, he pushed her inside. He grabbed his jacket from the back seat and draped it over Hange. Kneeling in front of her, he rubbed her arms soothingly, looking into her eyes. The spark in her eyes wasn't there yet, but— Hange was slowly coming back. Levi lifted his hand, taking off her glasses and folding them carefully in the front pocket of his shirt. Gently, he whipped the blood from her cheek and after that, proceeded to clean the glasses too.

Putting them back on her face, Levi forced a smile. "Are you feeling better?"

"Did you get them? The shooter?"

Levi looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment inside those eyes. "No," he said, clenching his jaw.

"Fuck," Hange breathed out. "We let them get away once again."

"I was the one who fucked up.”

"Shut up," Hange pushed him away, strong enough to make Levi lose his balance and fell on his ass. He didn't get up, though, instead staring at Hange in surprise. That spark in her eyes - it was finally back. It was even more intense than usual, as Hange glared at him.

"I hate when you do that - blame yourself for everything. Not everything is your fault! We fucked up this time, yes. You didn't catch the guy, but I should have noticed that something was wrong. And I did, but decided to ignore it. We both made a mistake, and it’s up to us to make everything right. Together as we always do." A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, as she extended a hand to him. "Don't you agree?"

Levi accepted her hand with a grunt. "Erwin's rubbed off on you," he complained, getting to his feet. "You sound just like him."

Hange chucked, her eyes sparking, and Levi let himself relax. She was still shaken, but that hollowness was gone.

"Thanks," Hange muttered, when Levi got inside the car. "I was a little out of it."

Levi nodded, starting the car. His mind was still reeling from tonight's events. While Hange was a little out of it, he was scared shitless. He was afraid that he made another mistake, he was afraid that he lost her.

It terrified him more than Levi was ready to admit. Hange, that little shit, managed to worm her way into his heart. He wasn't strong enough to stop her then, and he isn’t strong enough to push her away now.

Levi sighed, opening the window and letting the cold wind clear his head.

"Charleston, Texas Tommy or Fox-Trot?" he kept his eyes straight on the road, his voice as bored and emotionless as ever.

"Levi?" Hange frowned. "What are you—"

"What do you prefer, four-eyes?" he glowered, his cheeks turning red.

"Oh," for a moment, Hange was silent. She sat with her hands on her knees, her lips slowly curling into a grin.

"Since it's our first dance," she met his eyes in the rear window, winking. "I'll let you chose."

Levi grunted, gripping the steering wheel tighter and pushing down the gas pedal, speeding up. Hange didn't need to know it, of course, but he was pretty excited. He was also more than a little bit nervous. He had never really learnt how to dance. There was never a suitable partner. But now... Levi glanced at Hange, subtly admiring her profile. With her, maybe, it could all work out.

***

Just when they almost reached Wings of Freedom, Levi took a sharp turn, going into the opposite direction.

"Um, Levi? It's the wrong turn. The club is up ahead."

"I hate this place. It's too hot and there are too many people. Since it's our first dance," he showed Hange a small smirk. "I want to take you somewhere special."

***

Levi’s special place turned out to be a small park on the edge of Sina. Away from flashing city’s lights, it was dark, but cozy small place with only a few benches and a lonely swing, standing in a corner. It was situated on a precipice, and the whole city could be seen from up there.

“It’s beautiful,” Hange breathed out, her eyes full of childish wonder. She was standing at the very edge of precipice, gripping the metal railing with her hands. Logically, Levi knew that it was highly unlikely that Hange would fall over. Still, he stood a little closer to her, hovering just in case.

“Amongst all the horrors this city hides, it’s easy to forget how many wondrous things are there as well.” She bumped his shoulder with a grin. “You’re one of those wondrous things, Levi.”

“Shut up,” he grunted, feeling warmth spread through him at her words. Hange’s affection never failed in making him feel embarrassed. It also never failed in making him feel good. Levi craved her warmth more than he was comfortable admitting. That’s why he tried not to think about it too much.

“C’mon, four-eyes,” he tugged at her wrist, dragging away from the edge. “We came here to dance, did we not?”

"Someone's impatient, huh?" Hange teased. She stood in front of him, her arms hovering above his. "So... How do you want to do this?"

It didn't take Levi much time to decide. He did think about it. He put his left hand on her shoulder, and with his right one he grasped her palm. He took a step closer, their feet almost touching.

"Like this," he whispered.

"Alright," Hange nodded, a little shakily. "Alright, let's do it then."

She started to slowly move them around. Levi had never really understood the common obsession with dancing. People just spinned around while holding hands. There was nothing seemingly pleasant about this.

Now, though, he was inclined to change to his mind. Dancing with Hange was... fun. He liked the feeling of her hand in his, enjoyed the way she firmly held his waist. And looking up at her, with her eyes sparkling brightly even in the dark, Levi felt like he could keep dancing with her for hours. With Hange beside him, he was slowly forgetting about everything else. He felt like Hange and he were the only people in the world, nothing else mattered but Hange's bright eyes and soft smile. Nothing else was more important than this one small moment.

Hange sighed, putting her chin on Levi’s head. "I really needed this tonight. Thank you for indulging me, shorty."

"It's not that bad."

Hange stopped abruptly, her eyes going wide.

"Levi..." she began carefully. "Are you saying.... that you are enjoying this?"

"I said what I said," Levi retorted harshly. Maybe, he did enjoy the dance. What was wrong about it?

"Well, if you like it so much," Hange drew with a smirk on her lips. "We can do it more often."

"I will never dance in Erwin's shitty club."

"You didn't say no," Hange noted.

"I didn't," he agreed softly.

Hange beamed, and in the darkness, her smile was shining more brightly than the whole city below.

#levihansecretsanta #levihanss2020 #levihan

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ramzawrites · 4 years

Note

Ramza my beloved /p

I have thought of an idea and it won't leave me aloneee

Eret x Male Reader. Crown princes of rival nations repeatedly forced to coexist at balls and parties held by nations their kingdoms are both allied with. Enemies to lovers. Maybe this could have multiple instances? A cool one could be them competing over stupid things at a ball. Who can pick the most flowers in the courtyard without making the bushes look bad. Who can catch the most fish in the koi pond. Chock full with accidental blushing and "this feeling.... Ah yes. Hatred. Must be hatred."

Then getting caught by the Host Kingdoms staff and yelled at for disrupting the decor, begrudgingly agreeing to call it a tie until next time? 👀 -🌱

Rivals - Prince!Reader x Prince!Eret

Pairings: Eret x Reader

Characters included: Eret

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request from 🌱🌟 my beloved <3 /p

Summary: Prince Y/N and Prince Eret hated each other. That was just a fact. Mostly causing trouble together in order to one up the other. Though over the time even their relationship can change.

Words count: 5367

Authors Note: I’ll be honest you hit me with this request at a very good time so I ended up writing 10 pages in one go haha

Thank you for the request 🌱🌟!