#there's not a million like there usually is bouncing around in my head though

[sadhours]

You’re so talented and amazing that smut has me SWEATING!!!!

Plsssss part two with Steve taking readers virginity I beg

stop I love you!

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, inexperienced reader, oral (f and m receiving), virginity loss, p in v, unprotected (sorry I can’t write any other way)

part one

requests are open!!

shockingly, when you went to Steve’s house that night, you two didn’t sleep together. Which was his idea. He said he felt like maybe you two oughta get to know each other better before you went that far. You were visibly upset by that but Steve insisted it would be better that way.

So that’s how you find yourself a couple weeks later, holding hands with him as you walk through the mall. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you were dating but Steve didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend. But you two have been spending almost every day together, after work and on your days off. Like today, the pair of you have the day off but you wind up at the mall anyway. He called you this morning and asked if you wanted to hang out. To which you told Steve you needed to get a new pair of shoes for work, since yours were falling apart and he offered to tag along. He even picked you up.

You make eye contact with your coworkers as the pair of you stroll passed the food court. They make crude hand gestures and so you squeeze Steve’s hand and walk faster. He’s none the wiser, eyes scanning around the crowded mall. You catch yourself staring at him. You’ve had this like, really intense feeling in your chest ever since you and Steve started hanging out. It’s tight, almost like your lungs don’t have enough air. And he’s literally all you think about, all you can talk about. Steve, Steve, Steve. On a loop, to a nauseating extent. Not nauseating to you, but most likely to your family and friends. But really, he’s so dreamy.

“Where do you usually get your work shoes?” Steve asks, grazing his thumb against the back of your hand.

“Sears,” you answer honestly. Steve’s parents are in a vastly different tax bracket than your own so you get a little self conscious about these kinds of things. You were incredibly impressed with his house. And it took a good convincing from him to let him come over to yours. Especially because while Steve’s parents weren’t home when you went over there, yours were at yours always. And they were embarrassing, even though you were an adult now, they hovered. And you couldn’t close your door when he came over. Your mom about talked his ears off, too but Steve was charming and when he left, your mom told you he was sweet and she liked him.

“Cool,” he nods, “What do you wanna do after this?”

You shrug, walking into the entrance of Sears, “I don’t know.”

“We can use my pool,” he offers, “It’s really nice out, today.”

You blush, the thought of being in your swimsuit in front of Steve is kind of a lot. Even though you two have messed around, you’ve been almost completely dressed each time. Really, you’ve just been doing the same thing— dry humping but Steve always pulls your tits out. He actually stares at them sometimes, gets this look on his face that makes you feel like a million bucks. His eyes get all glassy and he looks dazed as he watches them bounce with your movements. It makes you feel sexy and you’ve never felt that way in your life. But being so exposed in broad daylight is rather intimidating.

“Yeah, maybe,” you reply shyly, cheeks ruddy at the thought of him seeing your body. “We’d have to go get my swimsuit, though.”

“We’re at a mall,” Steve chuckles, “You can just buy one.”

Well, you didn’t anticipate spending too much today. But again, you’re embarrassed so you won’t say that. You just shrug, “If I can find one.”

“I can help,” he grins, eyebrows raising as he nudges his side against you. Which just makes your face ten times more flushed. “Oh, look!” Steve points to the section of the store lined with swimsuits, “Perfect.”

The pair of you head that way. Steve motions at a red bikini, which is not something you’d usually wear. You’re a one piece kind of girl. But now that you’re thinking about it, the swim suit you have at home isn’t exactly sexy. And really, you want Steve to look at you with that dreamy look in his eyes again.

“That one’s nice,” he says, “And my trunks are red, so we’ll match.”

You pick up the top, looking it over when you realize you have no idea how to tell your size. You’re gonna have to try it on. “I need to try it on,” you tell Steve and grab a few sizes before making your way to the dressing rooms, Steve right behind you.

Much to Steve’s dismay, you don’t show him the bikini but you get the right size and get your pair of shoes. Steve buys you a smoothie on the way out. But what he does on the ride to his house is really what gets you. As he’s driving, he reaches his hand over and rests it on your thigh. His palm against your bare thigh makes them all tingly and you feel like the car is suddenly really hot, so you roll down the window. Looking out because you’re too shy to look at him. Steve squeezes your thigh and you clear your throat, shifting in your seat.

“You alright?” he asks, turning to you briefly.

“I’m fine,” you choke out as you look at him.

“Is this okay?” he squeezes your thigh again.

You swallow the lump rising in your throat and nod your head yes, “Yeah, it feels nice.”

“Good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with it and he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You’re really nervous, fixing your hair as you look in the mirror. You wished Steve gave you a towel to cover up with before you changed because now you have to make an entrance… in this bikini that feels like it barely covers anything. You swear one wrong move and your boobs gonna fly right out. But you think, Steve won’t mind that.

His face confirms it when you finally walk out onto the back patio, seeing Steve laying towels out on the pool loungers. He drops the towel in his hand and his lips part, holding his hand above his brows to shield the sun as he gawks at you. And thankfully, his reaction gives you a breath of confidence and you strut over to him, “Not too bad, huh?”

“Fucking unbelievable,” he breathes through a satisfied smile, “You look amazing.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your waist, dipping his face down to kiss your cheek.

“Steve!” you flush, bringing your hands up to your face. He grabs your wrists and kisses all over face, repeating that you look great over and over. You erupt in giggles, grabbing his hands and pull back.

“What? Too much?” he asks, looking down at you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

“I think… you need to cool off,” you say slyly before shoving him into the pool, jumping in right after him. Steve’s laughing when he comes up from the water, swimming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Good one,” he muses, looking fond, “Very clever.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kisses you then, and immediately you melt. Kissing Steve is like otherworldly. It’s like everything around you disappears and it’s just you two. His lips are soft yet firm, kissing you determinedly. His hands are big, cascading up and down your sides.

But then he pulls away and smiles, “Wanna race? I bet I can swim from this end to the other faster than you.”

“You’re on,” you bet and start swimming to the edge of the pool.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

After you two get out of the pool, your body is all tingly and needy. You dry off and can’t keep your eyes off of Steve’s body as he dries off. Eyes scanning over the constellations of moles scattering over his chest, arms and back. He catches you, biting is lip as he’s drying his hair.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I want��” you take a deep breath as your face flushes.

“What is it? You okay?” he asks, tilting his head as he gets a look of concern in his eyes.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, “ya know.. to do it.”

“Really?” he drops his towel, looking surprised.

“Uh huh,” you nod as you smile, so sure of yourself.

He grabs your hand and practically pulls you up to his bedroom. You fall back on his mattress and he’s crawling up between your legs, palm meeting your cheek gently as he crashes his lips into yours. It’s different than kisses before. Steve seems more urgent, more needy. His hands feel you everywhere, squeezing and pulling wherever he can. It’s intoxicating and makes your stomach twist, full of desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer and you can feel his cock strained behind his swim trunks rubbing against your core. It’s familiar, but a bit more charged. There’s more coming and it has your back arching. Steve breaks the kiss, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, writhing against him, “I’m sure.”

“Cool,” he breathes, moving his fingers to untie your bikini top and he pulls it off. His lips find your jaw, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever they can. Down your neck and over the curve of your breasts, then you feel his tongue against your perked nipple and you whine, knitting your fingers in his damp hair.

He flicks his tongue against it, looking up at your face as he broadly licks it before sucking it between his lips. You gasp, tilting your head back as you try to grind against him harder. You’re desperate for more friction there. Steve moans against your supple skin, and then his lips work lower. Down your stomach. And you no longer have his erection to grind against but his fingers dip into the waistband of your bottoms. Your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him in anticipation. He looks so pretty, the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains in his bedroom and casting beautifully on his strong eyebrows and sharp nose.

Steve peels your bottoms down your thighs and you move your legs to help him, hands moving to cover your chest. Otherwise, completely exposed to him. Steve kisses your hipbone, spreading your legs with his hands and then moves his mouth between them. Starts with kissing your thighs, but when he actually gets his mouth on your pussy, you cry out. It’s pleasure in a way you’ve never felt and it’s white hot, feel it everywhere. He licks through your folds, humming softly as he does so. It’s so warm and wet and lovely. Uses his plump lips when he does it, grazing against your folds. And he puts his mouth completely on you, sucks on your folds and his thumb lowers down to your hole, rubbing teasing circles around it and you gasp out. Eyes closing involuntarily as you tilt your head back, focused solely on how incredible this feels.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he makes you cum, your cry breaks off as it leaves your lips and your thighs squeeze his head while you ride it out. Steve watches you with a look of shock on his face, flattery, really. Impressed with himself at quick he made that happen. Smoothes his palms along the soft skin of your legs as he forces them open, coming up for air. His cheeks are flushed, a pretty pink blooming over them and the tip of his nose.

“Christ,” he exhales, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he beams up at you. “You okay, princess?”

Your chest heaves while you come down, eyes blinking open as you let out a sigh. The pet name makes your chest tighten, you want Steve to say it again, over and over. “So okay,” you gasp out as you sit up and look down at him.

He smiles cheekily, nudging his nose against your shaking thighs as he blinks up at you, “You’re sensitive, huh?”

“Nobody’s ever done that to me,” you admit, tucking your hair behind your ear as you flush.

He chuckles softly, keeps nuzzling against your thigh as he smoothes his palms down your calves. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

You nod enthusiastically at him, “W-wanna make you feel good.”

Steve pushes you on your back, gets himself on top of you and places a chaste kiss against your lips, mumbles against them, “That made me feel really good.”

Your hands find his hair, carding in the locks as you kiss his words and roll your hips up to meet him, “I wanna keep going. Maybe I can try.. returning the favor.”

The boy grunts softly into your mouth, the corners of his lips hitching up, “You ever done that before?”

“No,” you pout, feeling a little self conscious but more than that, eager. “I’m a really fast learner, though.”

“I’m.. I,” Steve laughs, breath hot against your mouth, “Might need a break after, but… hell, we’ve got all night.”

“A break?” you ask curiously and Steve nods against you, foreheads bumping together. He cups your cheek, kisses you tenderly.

“Mhm, can’t go again as quick,” he mumbles into your lips, grounds his hips down and you can feel him through his swim trunks. Hard and firm against your sensitive cunt.

You pull him back slightly, looking up at him tenderly as you say, “I really wanna try.”

He laughs again, breathless and it’s not mean, it makes your heart warm. The sound of him. Pretty and sweet. Makes you that much eager to please; to impress.

Steve rolls onto his back, inches up against his pillows and looks at you, eyes dark despite the fond smile spreading on his face. You sit beside him and your fingers find the elastic of his shorts, inching inside and looking up at him for guidance. He nods, short and soft. You pull down his damp trunks and his cock bounces out, long and thick against his abdomen. He helps rid of the shorts completely, kicking them off his ankles and then he rakes his fingers through your hair. Tilts his head as he looks down at you and says, “Just do what feels natural, princess.”

Your cheeks heat at the name, blooming down your neck and chest. Curious fingers graze down his length, Steve breathes out a pretty sound— almost a whine, kind of a sigh. Then you wrap your fingers around him, biting your lip at the warmth and weight. He inhales sharply, nodding at you as you lean forward and press your lips to the tip. Experimentally, you lick against the head of his cock and then drag your tongue across the edge of it. Steve groans, keeps stroking your cheek and forehead as he watches you with pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes out, “doing so good already.”

You’ve still got your fingers circled around his shaft, holding his cock up as you lick the tip like an ice cream cone. But you know you’re supposed to suck, that’s what you’ve been told at least. So you wrap your lips around the head and do just that. It punches a pretty sound from Steve’s throat, distinctly a whine. So you do it again and again and Steve keeps making that sound over and over before he says, “Move your hand, princess. Slow, up and down.”

Head feeling all dizzy, you listen and slowly stroke his cock up and down. But it’s kinda awkward— dry. You think it would work smoother if your palm was wet so you pull away and lick your hand before returning it to Steve’s cock, and you were right, the movement is so much easier like this and Steve moans, eyes blinking rapidly as he watches you.

“Such a fast learner, good girl,” he pants out and you’re smiling, cheeks swelling before you take his tip back between your lips.

You like this— a lot. Grinding down against the mattress for some friction, thighs all hot and slick with arousal. It’s the way he reacts, the sounds he makes and the way his face contorts in pleasure. Steve was pretty before but he looks even prettier like this. He bites at his lower lip, makes it even pinker and plumper. You sink a little more of him into your mouth, careful with your teeth as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip and then suck. Your jaw aches slightly but it’s so worth it. Steve’s fingers slide into the roots of your hair, gripping softly as he moans out little encouragements.

“So pretty, so pretty like this.”

And it’s kind of silly because you think he looks so pretty like this. You squeeze his shaft a little tighter as you stroke him, out of pure excitement and Steve groans, guttural and low as he swears, “Fuuuuck.”

You suck harder on his tip and continue moving your fingers up and down his length, curving your palm on each upstroke because Steve’s eyes roll back slightly and you want more of that.

“Just like that— holy—- fuckfuckfuck,” Steve pants and moans, “I’m gonna cum.”

Out of pure curiosity, you don’t pull off. Because also, when you came, Steve didn’t pull away. He makes a choked, broken sound and releases, hot and thick on your tongue. And you’d heard all your coworkers complain about the taste but Steve is sweet, not bitter like you’ve been told. You don’t hate the taste at all, though the texture is another story. But you swallow it down all the same and Steve’s watching and gasping for air as you pull away. He grabs hold of your face, pulls you close and then wraps his arms around your body, kissing you fiercely, bruisingly.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

It happens later. Steve’s parents away on yet another business trip, a white lie told to yours about staying the night at a friends and there you are. On his couch. Steve laid on his back, you nestled between his thighs with your cheek on his chest and his legs tangled with you. He plays with your hair as the TV plays late night informercials. You’re not paying attention, mind wandering as you subtly take in the smell of Steve. Musk and summer, his honey scented shampoo and the sugary candy you two shared on his breath. Fans your face hotly and lovely. Tickles against the ridge of your brows, cascades down to your nostrils and it’s rather intoxicating. Ushers you to lift your face and inch up his body, wanting to taste as you brush your lips against his. His hand snakes down your spine, onto the soft skin at the small of your back, your shirt pulled up just slightly. Steve kisses you back tenderly, sighing so softly you almost miss it.

A thought tugs at the back of your head and you ask against his lips, “What are we?”

Steve hums, eyebrow raising as he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“Like… we spend every day together, we kiss, we… do other stuff,” you swallow hard, chest tightening with fear as you repeat, “So what are we?”

He nudges his nose against yours, “What do you wanna be, princess?”

“Yours,” you admit, a whisper. Almost silent.

“You are mine,” Steve replies, squeezing your hip in his hand. You flush something mad, trying to surprise the giggle of excitement from bubbling out of your throat. It’s fruitless, the sound erupting from you as your cheeks swell. Steve kisses you again, softly and asks against your lips, “You wanna be my girlfriend, princess?”

You nod as you kiss back, “Mhm.”

“Then you’re my girlfriend,” Steve agrees easily, his breath smells so sweet, makes your head all fuzzy.

“And you’re my boyfriend?” you test, hand moving up to cup his jaw.

“You better believe it,” he mumbles, you can hear the smile but even better you can feel it against your lips. You kiss him again, more intent behind it this time— fingernails softly scratching at his jaw. Steve drags his tongue along your bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss which you eagerly agree as you part your lips. He tastes like candy, tooth achingly sweet when you welcome his skilled tongue against your own. It heats up quick, your hips dancing together as the pair of you pant into each others mouths. Steve’s hands lower to the fat of your ass, kneading and pulling. Your thighs feel all tingly, core aching with desperation for him.

You’re determined, you’ve been wanting Steve in that way for so long it feels like and he’s been taking his time with you. Testing the waters when you would’ve handed it over to him that first night in Scoops Ahoy!

“Stevie,” you pant against his mouth, “need you.”

“You have me, princess,” he retorts, smiling sweetly as he uses his leverage on your ass to grind you down against him. You can feel his length, hard and firm against your core and you whimper, needy.

“Need you— Steve, want you so bad,” you babble into his mouth as you writhe against him.

He taps your bum, “Up. Bedroom.”

You obey, don’t have to be told twice, holding his hand as he leads you to his bedroom. He kisses you once you’re inside, guides you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you fall into it, pulling Steve with you, refusing to pull your lips away from his. Which is a feat when you two start undressing one another. When you do have to pull away to rid of articles, you whine and Steve chuckles, gives you what you want seconds later. Smoothes his hands down your naked body as he licks into your mouth. He pulls back, on his knees between your legs as he licks the tips of his fingers and brings them to your core, exhaling sharply once he’s met with the evidence of just how much you need him.

This is it, you think. As he licks his fingers again and smears the saliva over his aching tip, guiding it towards your entrance and you whine out, just when skin meets skin. Readier than ever, overwhelmingly desperate to feel Steve inside you. Your back arches as he sinks in, just the tip of him stretching you open. It’s pleasure incarnate, radiates through your stomach and eats at all your nerves.

“More,” you plead, grabbing onto his biceps as you roll your hips. Steve sinks in deeper and it’s a little intense, searing and hot and also so, so, so perfect. Pulls a high pitched moan from you. Steve’s rubbing soothing circles against your stomach.

“Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”

You nod, digging your nails into his skin. Making little crescent indents. He lowers his mouth to yours, grazing your lips together as he sheathes his cock deeper inside. You gasp out, eyes clenching tightly at the burn. Steve kisses you through it, whispers words of encouragement there. Princess this and princess that. Pushes through this barrier and it’s all white hot pleasure. Bright light behind your eyelids as you moan out appreciation, adoration, desperation. His hips still, giving you the opportunity to adjust. Kisses you stupid with sugary sweetness. Tastes just like candy. Your hands are all over him, chest, stomach, shoulders, neck and back. Crying out soft little praising sounds.

He grits his teeth, eyebrows tangled as he pleads, “Please— princess, can I move?”

“Please,” you beg, “Gimme…” the thoughts lost as Steve winds his hips back and pushes them back down into you. A moan interrupting, voice wrecked already and Steve swallows it, kisses it away as he rolls his hips steadily. Keeps this rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and steady, candied uh-uh-uh’s fall from your lips.

Steve’s left hand holds himself up, palm to the mattress while his right grips tightly at your hip. Your legs open, ankles hooking over the backs of his thighs and your hands are still everywhere, taking in whatever you can. The way he’s stretching you out and filling you up at the same time is intoxicating, euphoria dripping all over you. You’re almost mad that you’d waited so long but it’s all too perfect. And maybe Steve’s been right and waiting is what made this moment the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

His lips are brutal against yours, pushing and pulling. Desperate and hungry. These pretty grunts and moans mushing against your lips.

“Steve,” you whine out, “god…”

He moves to grab your jaw, tilting your head back into the pillows as he moves his hips quicker, harder. Makes your head spin, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. All you can really do is lay back and take it, mind gone all numb. Your hips search his out, rocking back into him with every thrust. The tip of his cock reaching something fierce and overwhelming inside you. Brushes against this spot so wonderfully that tears prick your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.

“So perfect for me,” he mumbles into your mouth, “so pretty, so fuck— fucking gorgeous, princess.”

This wave rushes up on you like nothing before, punches the breath out of your lungs as you grip onto his back, nails scratching down the mole specked skin and Steve groans roughly against your mouth. Your eyes are open but you’re blinded by stars, exploding like fireworks as your eyebrows furrow and you emit a sound so loud, bordering on a cry. It’s like the drop of a roller coaster but a million times more intense, you’re not on this earth for the seconds it happens. Legs wrapping around his waist, crying out during the aftershocks of it. Steve’s panting against your lips, little whines and moans. Pretty sounds that just elongate the utter ecstasy ripping through your body.

“Fuckfuck— shit, princess, I’m gonna—“ Steve pulls out of you abruptly, fingers gripping around his cock as he spills over onto your stomach. Makes a choked and broken sound as he does it, your eyes are on his face. Watching the pleasure contort his features in a way that has you obsessed. He pants, chest heaving as he pushes his hair back. Catches his breath, leans down and kisses you softly before exiting the bed. You whine in protest, reaching your hands out for him.

Steve smiles sweetly at you, grabs a dirty towel from his hamper and moves to wipe his cock. You watch in awe, still coming back down to earth. He moves back towards the bed, using the towel to clean off your stomach. He drops it to the floor and curls up next you, pulling your face to his and kisses you stupid.

“Worth the wait?” he asks, teasingly.

You giggle and say against his lips, “When can we do it again?”

He laughs, pulling your body flush to his as he says, “You’re gonna kill me, princess.”

[stevie-petey]

pretty girl

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.” “Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Summary: steve has to get his daily kiss quota in somehow, right?

Rating: general, makeout session, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight neck kink if u arent into that, mild makeout session (so so so mild tho) - not proofread, i just kinda wrote so pls ignore typos lmao

Words: 1.1k

Before you swing in: hello ! i was in a bit of a lovey dovey mood, and while i adore writing come home, i simply couldnt bring myself to write more repressed feelings tonight. so, heres a quick lil boyfriend!steve blurb. it isnt at all correlated with come home (although if u squint ... maybe) its just me being so engrossed in my current crush and needing to be severely kissed. rip. anyways, enjoy !

-

Every night, Steve throws rocks outside your window. 

The rocks pang softly against the glass, one after another, as they bounce harmlessly on their endeavor to get your attention. 

Every night, you answer. 

“What ails you tonight, Harrington?” You’ve opened your window now, leaning your head out so that you can see the boy standing below. 

He winks at you. “The usual.”

“Hm,” you rest your elbows against the wooden panel encasing your window. “How many do you need this time?”

“Hard to say, but if I had to guess… A million, honestly.”

You laugh. “A million, huh?”

“Maybe even more.” Steve smiles up at you, admiring how the moonlight frames your pretty face, making it even softer than he ever thought possible. It takes his breath away for a second, knowing how the face staring down at him is the same face that stares up at him whenever morning comes. 

“Give me five minutes, lovely.”

Steve smiles at the nickname, letting it warm his face as well as his bones. “I’ll go warm up the car.”

You wave, blowing the boy a quick kiss, before closing your window to go over to your dresser. The top drawer has long come to contain your nighttime adventure outfits with Steve. A simple pair of sweatpants and his hoodie that you stole years ago but never gave back. 

He knows you have it still, but you know he secretly loves seeing you wear it. 

As soon as you’re ready, slippers and all, you quietly run down your stairs so you don’t disturb your parents and unlock the front door. The lock clicks harshly against the night’s quietness, but with one smooth turn you manage to undo the lock and open the door. 

Steve, true to his word, is waiting in his car with the heat blasting, just the way you like it. 

It’s winter, early January, and school hasn’t quite started back up yet. 

The second you approach the car, Steve gets out and walks to the passenger side so that he can open it before you even touch its handle. You scoff at the overdramatic mannerisms, but blush nonetheless. 

“I can open my own door, Steve.”

He shrugs. “Sure, but you’re beautiful and I love you.”

The words fall freely from his lips, and you intertwine your hand behind his neck and pull his lips flushed against yours. He hums into it, pulls you so that your chests are engulfed together and your legs stumble and enclose around his. It’s messy, your other hand clutches at Steve’s jacket and he relishes in the way your knuckles tighten around him. 

“One down, a million more to go.” Steve whispers against your lips. 

You laugh, throwing your head back and he watches the sight of it all. How your neck lengthens as you laugh, the way your hair cascades behind you and the way your eyes crinkle shut. You put on a whole show for him, and he can’t get enough of it. 

“You really think we can get through a million kisses tonight?” You ask, nudging your nose against the length of Steve’s jaw. 

He shivers. “Got a few ways I think we can manage that.”

You pull away now, though you keep your hand at the nape of his neck. “At least take a girl on a date first.”

“I’m trying, pretty girl.” He gestures toward the car, its engine humming softly. You roll your eyes, but when Steve finally opens the passenger door, you reluctantly let go of him and sit down. “Atta girl, Y/N.”

Before you can huff at him for the nickname, Steve gently closes the door and heads over to his own driver’s side. He opens the door, the warm air escaping a bit, and as soon as Steve is in the car he tugs at your hoodie (his hoodie) and once again you’re kissing. 

It’s longer this time, languid and lingering. He brings a hand up to your cheek and his thumb strokes the high point in a fluid back and forth motion. You lean deeper into him, your own hands coming up to his chest as if you could bring him any closer to you. 

Steve nips at your bottom lip and you let him in, you always let him in. 

You gasp as he sucks on the lip and you feel him smile at your reaction. With one hand still caressing your cheek, his other hand comes up to the base of your neck. It’s warm, he’s always so warm, and his calloused fingers find their usual place, splayed across both sides of your neck. His palm settles just above your collarbones and your breath hitches. 

“Steve…” You exhale his name, as if it were a prayer. 

He pulls away a little, his eyes a molten honey color in the moonlight. “Yes, pretty girl?”

You turn your head and press a kiss against the hand still on your cheek. “Three down, 999,999,997 to go.”

“Make that four,” Steve presses a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then to the tips of your eyelashes. “Now eight.”

You giggle as he presses another kiss to your temple and then your ear. He’s everywhere, now, peppering kisses on every inch of skin he can find. “And here, and here, and here…”

Steve goes down to your neck now, his nose trailing down the bare skin, making you shiver, and his kisses are so soft. Despite his teasing and the hold he still has on your neck, his lips leave a trail so soft and sanguine against your skin that they burn like whiskey. 

He reaches for your hand now, bringing the length of your arm up to his face, and just before he presses even more kisses against you, you laugh and pull your arm back. Steve starts to whine, unhappy with his kisses being interrupted, but you comb your fingers through his hair. 

“Seems unfair to make you do all the work, lovely.”

Steve’s lips are red and swollen from earlier, they almost distract you from his response. “Shush and let me kiss you.”

He tries to duck his head back down to your neck for more, but you stop him. “Nuh-uh. My turn.”

Before Steve can argue some more, you tug at his jacket, and because you’ve caught him off guard, he falls so far forward that his neck is open for the taking. You press your own kisses against it, connecting the moles that litter his skin with a kiss, and Steve exhales shakily as you do so. 

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.”

“Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Steve’s hand tightens around your neck as the other flies up to your head, pressing you further into his neck as you suck on a spot that he particularly likes. “Yeah… Fuck, okay. Shutting up now.”

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[thebearer]

Thoughts on Reader being in her second trimester of pregnancy riding Lip

oh fuckkkk yes. bc we all know he's def got a big thing for pregnancy sex lol. minors dni 18+

"This feel ok?" Lip grunts, chin tucked to his chest, hands on your ass helping guide you up and down.

"Obviously." You snap, eyes rolling in irritation. Lip was slowly starting to learn that with your pregnancy came a rage of hormones. Some bad, some... good. This was good.

Even with your irritation, the insatiable horniness that also accompanied it (and was usually the cause of it) was a plus to Lip. You were desperately horny, waves of just wanton need washing over you all hours of the day. From the moment you woke up to the moment he would finally fuck you to sleep, it felt like you were always on Lip. Not that he minded.

"Y'know I can-I can be on top." Lip grunted, the feeling of your slick lips grinding against the hair of his pelvis, wetting it when you sat fully on his cock.

"I don't want you to be on top." You huffed, hips grinding against him. "If I wanted you on top, you'd be on top."

Lip grinned, a lopsided smirk watching you rise and fall again, one hand flat on his chest steadying yourself- maybe holding him down- while you rode him.

"You look pretty like this. You know that?" Lip rasped, blue eyes shining and watching you carefully. The swell of your stomach, the way your boobs bounced with every rise and fall of your hips. The way your head would tilt back, baring your neck to him. He wanted to flip you over, pound you out and bite at your neck until you were covered in mouth shaped bruises. He would have, if it wasn't for baby Gallagher.

"Thanks." You grunted, an edge to your tone that told him you were annoyed. "Can you just... Can you just be quiet please? I need to focus."

Lip snorted lightly, squeezing the fat of your ass, making you clench around him. "Focus?" He teased, your narrowed glare making him relent. "Fine. Do what you gotta do, baby."

"Thank you." You mutter, hips rocking until you found the spot you'd been looking for. Bent backwards, hands on Lip's thighs, digging into the skin there while you half heartedly rode him. A little uncomfortable with the angle, but he helped you, hips rising to meet yours until you were gushing all over him, falling back onto the mattress.

Lip smirked, crawling over your body, erection still rubbing against your hip. "You gonna be mad if I finish? Too sensitive."

"Yeah." You muttered, light and airy, eyes glazed with your orgasm. "You can put it in my ass though." You said it so sweetly, Lip thought he might have hallucinated the words. "Not too sensitive there."

Lip grinned, wide and toothy, snorting at you lightly. You were somethin' fuckin' else. He'd told you that a million times. It was why he got with you, married you, was having a baby with you. He loved you. Loved that you were exciting, fun, different; most importantly, he loved that you were his.

[cassiesdevblog]

~Shmovement~ in Grey Area

Hello goober goblins! Grey Area comes out ~September 15th~ and I wanna make some posts going over my involvement with the project 👁️👁️

I joined the project back in March because, while playing early builds, there were a million things, big and small, that I wanted to be able to polish up to really make the game shine, and my top priority was Hailey's movement

Grey Area is a game where beginners will mostly play inside a small range of velocities, but, thanks to @bisthefairy, there are ways to build and maintain greater speeds, so Hailey's movement has to be tuned for both small-scale, precision platforming and large-scale, broader movements. Plus, as most of the level design was already finished when I joined, all my changes had to work with, rather than against, the established design

General momentum adjustments

When I first joined, there were a few ways that slow and fast play would clash with one another. For instance, Hailey had low air friction. This was nice at higher speeds, because you should be able to briefly release the d-pad to shave off a little speed without getting rid of all of it, but it didn't mesh with tighter sections where you'd be asked to land precisely on small platforms

Luckily, since the smaller range of speeds Hailey usually stays within is well defined, I was able to just dramatically increase her air friction while not pressing a direction, only while inside that range.

Unfortunately, this led to a small problem: There are lots of spots in the game where you're meant to bonk off a wall and land on a platform. Where you could previously do this without having to hold a direction, you now had to hold back a little or Hailey wouldn't make it. To fix this, I just made her use the old friction during a bonk. That may seem unintuitive, but the bonk is all about Hailey bouncing back off a wall, so it feels natural for her to travel further. In practice, the discrepancy doesn't feel like a discrepancy.

Dive momentum changes

Hailey's main mechanic is her dive: a burst movement option that lets you speed straight forward. You can cancel out of the move at any point, cutting off all your momentum. However, when I first joined, Hailey would keep a small amount of the dive's momentum after a cancel. The intent was to let you keep the flow going even after a cancel, but it led to lots of overshooting in a game with low margins for error. I preserved the original way if the player is holding in the direction of the dive, so you can still keep your flow going, but if you're not pressing a direction, Hailey will instead cancel all the momentum and drop straight down

Release cancel (aka, half the reason I joined the project)

These subtle changes have made Hailey much more reliable to control. It feels much easier to translate your intent onto the screen regardless of how fast you're going (September 15th btw)

Speaking of intent, I've had a big impact on this game's controls! The first time I ever played, the dive could only be canceled by releasing B and then pressing it again. I felt this was really cumbersome and I barely felt in control, so I wanted to cancel by just releasing B

This was controversial though, as everyone else preferred the original way, so I instead suggested being able to cancel by pressing back on the d-pad, as it felt instinctual to hold against the direction of momentum to cancel it. I also suggested being able to press down to cancel, since a player might think of it as dropping Hailey down. Fortunately, both were implemented and the game became a bit more comfortable for me, but I couldn't get the idea of releasing B to cancel out of my head

Later, when I finally got my hands on the project, release cancel was the first thing I added, and it felt just as right and perfect and natural as I imagined it would. I figured, if I just made the other devs play with it, they might see the merits of it and change their minds. Tragically it didn't change any minds, but I was ultimately able to persuade Alayna to make it an option in the options menu. When you play the game, especially if you don't like how cancelling is controlled, please please please try changing "Press to dive" to "Hold to dive" in the options menu and join the church of release cancel. We have plenty of room :')

Other controls

I've made a bunch of other small changes to the controls too! Generally, I like every button on the controller to do something, so I mirrored a lot of functions to previously unused buttons. Hopefully this makes the game feel more responsive and playful, as well as a little more accessible! I also made it so Hailey sits down when you press down :) It's one of only a few graphics I drew for the game! (did I mention September 15th btw)

The Bounce 👁️👁️

I've saved my biggest (and most iterated upon) change for last >:3

When Hailey dives at smaller enemies, she'll bounce off as if she goomba stomped them, which cancels her dive and allows her to dive again. I added this because I thought the sick tricks and possibility for advanced play were too sweet to pass up. Not to mention it just seemed like fun. Plus, it would add exciting counterplay to some previously unexciting enemies. It's a simple mechanic, but it underwent a lot of changes!

Firstly, it used to work on almost every enemy, but it didn't feel right against bigger monsters. We ended up deciding that Hailey should only be able to do this against enemies around her size, so in practice, this mainly comes up with the Golch enemy. When I first played, I found the Golch really annoying, as the best and safest strategy to deal with it was to just stand and wait for it to fly toward you so you could jump on it. Now, you can dive right at it and pull off sweet tricks instead! This has ended up making room for tons of cool skips and it feels great >:3

I even redesigned the Golch's flight path so that it will usually be flying at your exact elevation (it moves faster vertically than it does horizontally to accomplish this) so you can more consistently dive straight into it

I also made it so that bouncing off an enemy clamps your speed within a relatively small range, as otherwise you would carry the momentum of the dive and easily fly off into a pit

Now, in my mind, this all worked perfectly, but then disaster struck

@zombielesbean, who uses press cancel, would try to press B to cancel right before running into an enemy in order to avoid it, but would press a few frames too late and instead the input would happen after Hailey had bounced off the enemy, so she'd dive again and accidentally fly off into a pit. We tried a million different avenues to resolve this, but all of them were significant downgrades to the mechanic

Fortunately, Alayna found that the issue was only happening because of the enemy placements in one or two spots, and after adjusting them, it was no longer an issue, so fortunately the best version of the mechanic got in >:3

So yeah!!

Those are a few of the ways I've cleaned up and improved Hailey's movement since I joined! I've gotten my grubby paws all over every bit of this game in a similar way. Cleaning things up, tuning numbers, adding effects, making things more clear, overhauling things, enhancing the flavor

A huge takeaway from this project for me has been that polish is a full time job!! Every little bit of polish seems small on its own, but when you add them all up they can make the difference between a decent game and a total banger. It just takes a huge amount of time to accrue all those tiny things. I think that's why they say you should triple all your time estimates on gamedev...!!

Fortunately, I have a good eye and a strong passion for all those little things, so I feel like an extremely valuable asset on this project, even though my hand is largely invisible and it takes long-winded posts like this to even explain what I've done

As Bis puts it, "Cass did for Grey Area before release what Sonic modders do for Sonic games after release"

~September 15th you vibrant fools~

[musings-of-a-rose]

Jump Then Fall - Part 3

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”

Word Count: 3600+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30.

**Shoutout to @VaneMando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

Jump Then Fall Masterlist

General Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

<<Part 2<<

He's coming back. Chucho is bringing Javier back after 6 years. What do I say? How do I tell him he has a son who is already 6 years old? Will he even remember me? Will he want to be a part of mine and Alex's life or will he turn and run?

My mind spirals as I finish drying the last few pans before putting them away. I head upstairs, my brain going through a million different scenarios before I take a quick glance in the mirror. I smooth down my hair and put on a new outfit, a simple summer dress that goes down to my knees, and end up randomly tidying and cleaning the house, never settling on one spot.

I knew this day would come. I guess I just never thought about it specifically. 6 years ago, I was so sure of my choice not to tell him, that I wouldn't want him distracted in Colombia but I wouldn't want him to come home and resent us for forcing his choice. But a part of me, ok a large part of me, feels guilty for not giving him the choice.

I hear Chucho's truck pull up outside and my heart starts beating faster. The truck doors slam and muted voices make their way to the front door. I pick up the book on the counter in front of me and open it, my eyes not taking in a word but I didn't want to look like I was waiting around for them. For him.

"...'m fine. You don't have to b-baby me."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't vomit on the clean floors."

He's drunk. I can tell by the way his words are slurred, his feet thunking across the wood floors in a sporadic pattern. Before I can move, he stumbles through the kitchen doorway, his eyes taking a few moments to focus on me.

"Who are you?"

My hearts sinks a little. I would've been surprised if he remembered me, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.

"Vanessa."

He steps closer to me, his eyes scanning my body before settling on mine.

"Are you fucking my dad?"

"Uh, no. I-"

"Ok, Javi. Time for bed. Vanessa will be here later for you to question," Chucho claps his hands on Javier's shoulders and guides him towards the doorway.

"Ok, ok. I have more questions later, Vanessssssa."

I give him a little wave as he disappears through the doorway. Chucho struggles to get him up the stairs, but eventually the sounds of them arguing disappear and I'm left alone for the moment. I turn around, gripping the counter with both of my hands and take several deep breaths.

He doesn't remember me. Or maybe it's because he's drunk? How do I handle it now?

His eyes, though filled with the drink, held a lot of anger and regret. He's hurting. I can't imagine what he's seen or had to do in persuit of Escobar. Chucho walks back in, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Sorry about him. He doesn't usually get drunk like that."

I wave my hand. "It's fine. I imagine he's been through a lot."

"Still, it's not an excuse to act like an asshole...he's going to be out for a bit but I'm thinking hamburgers for dinner? Something greasy to help that hangover he's going to have."

"Sounds good."

Chucho studies me for a moment. "How are you?"

That's a good question. "I...I'm not entirely sure."

"You need to tell him."

I nod. "Of course. But I can't tell him when he's drunk."

He chuckles. "No, I suppose not. But soon, ok?"

I give him a small smile before moving to get out the ingredients to bake some hamburger buns. Chucho moves to the living room, the tv turning on a moment later. He flips the channel and the news report echoes through the doorway to me.

"Breaking news! Pablo Escobar has just been killed. This is live footage of the rooftop where he was killed by DEA agent Steve Murphy..."

I step into the living room, watching the live broadcast of the rooftops where the outline of a dead man lays splaid on the tiles, other men in tach vests surrounding him. A blonde man high fives someone as the news anchor continues their report. But then it dawns on me.

Javier is not there, finally catching Escobar after 6 years of chasing him. He's here. No wonder he's drunk. What happened?

"Why is Javier here, Chucho?"

He's quiet a moment. "I don't know."

I return to the kitchen, mixing the dough before forming the buns. I can't imagine working for 6 years trying to catch one of the most elusive men, only to be forced away at the very end, not even being allowed to be there for his capture. I'd lose my mind too. I know I need to tell him about Alex, but I also need to give him a moment with this.

But how long of a moment?

-------

It takes 3 days for Javier to come out of a drunken stupor. I hear his bedroom door open as he stumbles down the hall with a groan, the bathroom door closing behind him. I hear a slam from the bathroom, sounding like the toilet lid. I wipe my hands on my apron and head upstairs, hesitating for a moment outside of the bathroom door. I knock very gently.

"Javier? Are you alright?"

A grunt followed by another violent heaving sound answers me. I turn the handle, slowly pushing the door open as the heaving subsides. Javier slumps against the side of the bathtub, his hand moving around to find the handle to flush the toilet. His hair is rumpled, his eyes mostly closed, clad only in a pair of sweatpants. I walk over to the toilet and close the lid, flushing the toilet for him. His hand drops to his lap and he takes a couple of deep breaths.

"Thanks."

"Of course. Do you want help up?"

He cracks his eyes open and looks at me. "You're not my dad."

"That I am not."

He lifts his head, opening his eyes a little more before hissing and closing them, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "The fucking light is going to kill me."

"Well I can't do anything about the light coming in this window. But let's get you back to your room in bed. You'll feel better."

I wait a few moments while he gathers himself, extending my hand to help him up. He squints at me and I roll my eyes.

"Just take my hand. I'm stronger than I look."

He takes it and I have to hold back a gasp as his large hands engulf my small ones, the warmth from the contact sparking all sorts of thoughts and memories. I pull him to his feet and he leans on me as I help him back to his room, pulling back the sheets as he slides in. I pull all of his curtains firmly shut, only using the light from the hallway to see around. Javier settles into bed, groaning a little as he puts his hand on his stomach.

"I'll bring you some water and pain meds."

"Oh you don't have-"

"That wasn't a question."

I head back downstairs, getting a glass of water. I stop by the bathroom again, opening the medicine cabinet and getting out some pain meds. I also pull out the bottle of activated charcoal tablets that Chucho handed me shortly after Javier came home. He said they suck to choke down but they'd really help the hangover. I carry everything to his room, shaking out the right amount of charcoal tablets. Javier sits up with another groan, taking the pills and the glass of water.

"This isn't aspirin."

"No. It's activated charcoal. Chucho said it will really help your hangover. You can't take it with any meds though as it'll just absorb those."

"I'll just take the aspirin."

"I really think you need to take the charcoal."

He looks up at me. "I don't even know who you are why the fuck would I listen to you?"

"Because I just carried your stubborn self all the way from the bathroom after you puked your guts out. I'm just trying to help. Take the damn pills."

He studies me through squinted eyes. "Yes ma'am." He chokes down the pills and makes a disgusted face before drinking several sips of water. "Those taste terrible."

"I never claimed they tasted good. So let those do their work and get some rest. When you're ready, come downstairs and I'll make you something to eat."

He looks at me again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together in concentration. "No really, who are you?"

"Vanessa. Now get some rest."

He lays back and I pull the blanket up, giving him a small smile when I catch him looking at me. I leave the room and head back downstairs, finishing up some of the lesson planning I was doing for the upcoming semester.

A few hours later, Javier comes downstairs, this time with a shirt. Although he only has the bottom 3 buttons done up. I'm not sure why he even bothered with a shirt. Not that I'm complaining. He stands there awkwardly, like he doesn't know what to do.

"Feeling better?" I ask, turning to face him from my stool at the kitchen island.

"Yeah. Those charcoal things worked really well."

"Good. I've never been hungover so I wasn't sure, but I figured Chucho knew what he was talking about. Are you hungry?"

"I uh...I'm not sure," his hand goes to his stomach, his face souring slightly.

I head over to the slow cooker on the counter. "I made some chicken noodle soup. If anything, you can sip on the broth?" I look over at him, his head cocked to the side, watching me.

"Javier?"

"What? Oh soup. Yeah. Sure."

I ladle him a bowl and grab some saltines and set them on a little plate next to his bowl and set it in front of him. I also set down a glass filled with cloudy looking water.

"Coconut water?" Javier asks skeptically.

I shrug. "My mom always gave it to me during and after a cold. Said it gave me back nutrients. I figure alcohol probably takes a fair amount of nutrients from you. So it should help."

"Hhmm. Guess we'll find out." He takes a tentative sip from the cup, licking his lips a little after. "Hey that's sitting alright."

I give him a small smile. "Good."

Before I can move, he grabs my arm and gives it a little squeeze, sending jolts of electricity through me. "Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome."

I sit and pull my planner and books to me, resuming my task of lesson planning. I can feel his eyes on me, like he's studying me. I wish he would find something else more interesting.

"What are you doing?"

I don't look up. "Lesson planning for this upcoming semester."

He takes a slurp of his soup and swallows it. "Teacher? Holy shit this soup is amazing."

I look up at him as he takes another bite, his eyes closing for a moment as he savors the soup.

"Yeah. I'm teaching 2nd grade this year."

"Sounds fun. Seriously, what did you do to this soup?"

"My mom taught me how to cook," My eyes sting and my heart hurts thinking of those memories.

"Well, she did a damn good job."

"Sometimes she got it right."

He looks up at me. "Oh. I'm sorry I touched a nerve."

I wave my hand. "It's ok. I've come to terms with it."

He sets his spoon down, all of his focus on me. His gaze is intense, that little furrow between his brow is back. "You look-"

"Good you're awake, puto. Put some pants on and come help me." Chucho walks in the back door, stomping his boots on the mat outside before stepping in.

"I don't know if I-"

"Come on, son. No more babying I gave you time. Now I need your young bones."

"You sound like a bruja." (witch). But Javier pushes back from the island and starts to grab his plate.

"Don't worry about it, I got it." I stand, leaning over to take the bowl and plate, noticing that he'd eaten all of it. "I have more if you want some."

His dark eyes bore into mine, fanning a flame inside of me. "I want whatever you give me, Vanessa."

SMACK! Chucho slaps Javier on the back of his head.

"What the fuck?"

"Stop flirting and come help me before these chickens run halfway to Mexico."

-------

Chucho and Javier are gone for a few more hours and return just as the sun is setting. I hang up the phone, having had my nightly call with Alex, who is having a blast at science camp. The men kick off their work boots and coats, trudging upstairs to shower.

"Dinner will be ready soon so don't take long!" I yell after them.

Chucho devours the steak I'd made him while Javier opts to have another couple bowls of soup. Before long, Chucho leans back, slapping his stomach.

"Well, I am tired. Gonna get an early sleep. Vanessa? Delicious, as usual. Night, everyone."

"Good night, Chucho."

While he heads upstairs, I start to clean up, Javier immediately moving to help me. I shake my head.

"Nope. I got this."

"I can help."

"Really, it's ok."

"Are you always this stubborn?

"Are you?"

He looks at me before he smirks, but then it's gone just as fast. Man am I fucked.

"I can dry?"

"I appreciate the offer, but really. I'm ok."

"Does washing the dishes relax you or something?"

I know he said it in jest, but now that I think about it, it kind of does. The warm, soapy water calms me down. Gives me space to think.

"Yeah sort of."

He puts his hands up. "Say no more. I don't want to intrude." Did he just wink at me? Javier heads from the kitchen and I hear the front door open, the screen door slapping closed behind him.

After I'm done with the dishes, I dry my hands, thinking. I grab another glass of coconut water and head towards the front door, hesitating for several moments before pushing open the screen. Javier sits on the swing bench, facing out to look over the front half of the farm, a cigarette lit and in between his fingers. He takes a long drag, his lips rounding to blow out the smoke.

"I thought you should hydrate again." I hold up the glass and he turns to look at me, his eyes coming back into focus. He beckons me to him and I walk up, handing him the glass.

"That's a nasty habit, you know," I nod towards the cigarette in his hand.

He shrugs. "You have your relaxing activity, and I have mine." Still, he leans forward and puts it out on the tray he'd set on the arm of the bench. "Come. Sit."

I take a breath and sit, our thighs nearly touching. The air feels electrified, like it's waiting for something to happen. We sit like this for a while, staring out at the cows grazing in the front fields, Javier lightly rocking the swing as he rolls his foot back and forth.

"Thank you for...everything. Taking care of me and..everything." He turns his head to look at me in the light coming in through the windows from the house.

"It's not a problem. Anyone would do it."

He snorts. "Not for me."

"And why not?"

He pauses a moment. "I'm not a good guy."

"Well I know that's not true. You're a great man, Javier." I place my hand on his forearm without thinking, and squeeze. He looks down at where I touch him, placing his hand over mine before looking at me.

"I'm really not. I just..." He trails off, his eyes sweeping over my face. "You...you look familiar. It's been killing me for days."

Well. Now is the time. For this confession, at least.

"That's because we know each other."

His brow furrows slightly. "I had a feeling. From where?"

It still hurts a little that he doesn't remember, even though I know it's a trauma response. Memory loss and PTSD can often go hand in hand.

"You...you gave me a rose, once."

Recognition immediately ripples over his face, his eyes widening, his eyebrows raising a little as he shifts his body to face me.

"Vanessa? From the bar? Right before I left for Colombia?"

I smile nervously. "That's me."

"Summer of new things Vanessa?"

I nod. "Yup. Me."

His eyes are twinkling now, a small smile creeping up his face. "Holy shit! I never thought I'd see you again. It was so hard to walk away from you that morning. The only thing that did it was the fact that the DEA would come down on me hard for missing that flight." His eyes soften the longer he looks in mine and for a moment, we're both transported back to that night, the night he opened up my world.

"H-how are you?" He's hesitant, but his eyes are wide and curious.

"Not bad."

"How did you end up here? I thought you were going back to-" he waves his hand around trying to think. "Austin?"

"Corpus Christi."

He snaps his fingers. "That was it."

Do I tell him about Alex? About being a father? Something inside me tells me to wait. To only surprise Javier with one thing at a time. He's been through so much and the last thing I want to do is pile more on top of that.

"It's a long story but I...got pregnant and my parents..well, they didn't approve. Out of wedlock. Anyway, they kicked me out and I uh, ended up here. Chucho I guess took pity on me and gave me a place to stay. I offered to cook and clean for him which of course he argued against, but," I shrug. "And so I stayed. He demanded I return to college and get my teaching degree I had been working on and he babysat Alex while I did. I owe him so much. My life, basically. I don't know how I'll be able to repay him."

His eyes grew serious. "You're parents kicked you out pregnant?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"That's fucked. Sorry, but it is."

I shrug. "They were the kind of parents that would scrub my mouth out with soap and make me repeat scripture if I had nail polish on so I guess I'm not surprised. I've made peace with it."

"Still. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Thanks."

We sit in silence for another few moments, one weight on my chest lifted but a very heavy one still remaining.

"The dad didn't help?"

Here's your chance, Vanessa. You can tell him now, despite everything. Tell him. TELL. HIM.

"He...He had other things to do."

Javier scoffs. "What an asshole."

I shake my head vehemently. "No, it's not..they were very important."

"More important than knocking up a young woman?"

"I think so."

"I'm sure."

I turn to face him more directly. "What if it was yo-"

RING RING! RING RING!

The phone cuts through our conversation, forcing an ending that I wasn't ready for. Javier attempts to stand but I put my hand out.

"It might be Alex. I've got it."

I feel his eyes on me as I go inside, answering the phone quickly. It wasn't Alex but some automated political message and I grunt, hanging up the phone in frustration. I should go back outside and explain everything to him, confess it all, but I don't. I do peak my head back outside and call his name, momentarily flustered when he looks at me.

"It was some political something."

"I fucking hate those."

"I'm going upstairs. Drink that coconut water." I point to the untouched glass in his hand and he holds it up towards me.

"Yes, ma'am."

-------

>>Chapter 4>>

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[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 13)

Series Finale

Summary: The happy ending I promised you! Timothée proposes.

C/W: mention of deadbeat dad

Catch up on previous chapters here.

>>six weeks after Christmas<<

"So I got a call today." Timothée announced at dinner with you, Madison, and your parents. "One of my investors wants me to open a furniture store in Kentucky. I'm going to go check out a spot next week."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Timothée!" your mother cheered. Your dad shared similar (but calmer) sentiments. You, on the other hand, bounced up and down in your seat and then kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm so proud of you!" you said gleefully. Your excitement quickly stalled, though, when you looked over at Madison, who just stared down at her plate. She set down her utensils and pushed herself away from the table. Next thing you knew, you heard the front door slam shut. You looked at Timothée wide-eyed.

"What was that about?" he asked. You shrugged. Her reaction came out of left field. You both stood to go check on her. You expected to find her in her usual spot on the porch swing, but she was nowhere in sight. Your heart rate rose in slight panic as you looked out from the porch and saw nothing but darkness.

"Madison?!" you cupped your hands and yelled as you scanned the yard.

Timothée walked toward his truck and spotted the girl's blonde hair over the top of the seat. He caught your attention with a wave and pointed to the passenger side. You nodded in acknowledgment. Unsure what to do with yourself, you sat on the top porch step to stay close just in case you were needed.

Madison was sitting in the passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring out the front window. She cut her eyes at Timothée and glared as he climbed in on the driver's side.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said softly.

"Go away. That's what you're good at," she snipped.

Timothée recoiled from her words as he reached for the door to shut it behind him. "What? I don't under-"

She turned to him and shouted, "You...you said you loved us! Now you're going away and I won't get to see you anymore," her eyes dropped, "just like I don't see my dad. He doesn't come to visit or ask me to come. He doesn't even call much anymore. You're going to forget me like he did. And hurt my mom."

Timothée's brows furrowed in confusion. "Madison, I'm not-"

"You JUST said you have to go to Kentucky!" she interrupted accusingly. Her breathing hitched and she started bawling. Timothée froze in shock, taking a couple of moments to realize Madison thought he was moving away.

"Oh- oh, kiddo, no no no." He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I will have a new shop in Kentucky, but I will only have to go there every once in a while."

"Y- you're not leaving?" Madison asked, voice stilted by involuntary gasps. She pulled back to look at him.

Timothée shook his head. "I'm so sorry you thought that's what I meant. I'm not going anywhere, certainly not without you and your mother."

"Oh." She ducked her head in embarrassment.

He pulled her in for a big squeeze again. "I could never forget you, not in a million years. I can't answer why your father acts the way he does. Sounds like he still has some things he needs to work through. But I know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. You are a beautiful, amazing, kind human being who deserves all the love in the world. Same for your mother."

He felt her nod against his shoulder and reach up with her small hand to wipe her cheek.

"In fact," he paused and looked around. "Can I tell you a secret?" Madison looked up at him and nodded. "I have been wanting to ask your mother to marry me, but I wanted to see how you feel about it first."

She quickly pushed herself upright and placed both hands over her mouth in surprise. "Really?!"

"I know it may seem quick, but I have loved her for practically as long as I can remember. And you, missy," he said through his teeth as he poked her ticklish spot on her side, which induced the desired giggles. "I've had a soft spot for you ever since I met you."

After Madison's laughing died down, she sat silent for a few moments in thought. "Would that make you my dad?" she asked timidly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Well, you already have a father. And I'm not trying to step in and replace him. But," he paused to cup the back of her head with his large hand, "I already love you like you are my daughter. And that won't change even if your mother says no."

She nodded, brows scrunching before her face lit up with a smile. "I- I love you, too. You'd be like...like a bonus dad!" She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. The two stayed that way for a bit before Madison broke the silence again.

"She won't say no. When are you going to ask her?"

"I'm not sure, though I should probably do it soon so you don't have to keep it secret for long."

"I can handle it!" she exclaimed as she pushed herself away from him.

Timothée laughed and held his finger up to his mouth. "Shh! I'm sure you can. Got any ideas?"

Madison rested her thumb and index finger on her chin in contemplation. "Actually, I do."

<><><><><><>

You steered the cart through the grocery store, frequently checking your list and grumbling to yourself about prices going up.

"Mom, I'm going to the cereal aisle," you heard Madison announce.

"Okay, I'll meet you over there in just a minute," you called back. You grabbed a couple more items from the baking aisle, then strolled around the corner to find her.

And find her you did, standing next to Timothée. He looked quite handsome in his nice button-down shirt, jeans, and boots. As always, his presence brought a smile to your face.

"Oh, hey! What are you do-" you started to question, but you were cut short when he dropped to one knee. You gasped and covered your mouth.

"The last time I was on this aisle with you," he started, "my heart skipped a beat. I thought I was dreaming. I thought there was no way, after all of these years, that I was seeing my [Y/N], the girl I thought I had lost for good because I wasn't brave enough to follow her when she asked. I know what life is like without you, and I never plan on letting you go again, if you'll have me."

He brought out a handcarved wooden box and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You looked over at Madison, who was beaming up at you. She nodded at you to show her support. With a watery smile, you looked back at Timothée and squeaked out a "yes."

The three of you were oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around you. You startled when they began to cheer. Timothée launched himself up from his position on one knee and captured your face in his hands to kiss you. He then took your left hand in his and slid the ring onto your finger.

"I knew she'd say yes!" Madison cheered.

You pulled her to your side for a hug. "You were in on this?" you asked tearily.

"Yep!" She looked up at Timothée. "Told you I could keep a secret!"

"I didn't doubt you for a second, kiddo." He looked back at you and squeezed your hand. "Ready to tackle forever?"

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

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[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Tagged by @thesingularityseries <3 thank you!!

Slapping a big warning on this and only tagging the NSFW list folks this week. I am sharing some of chapter 13 of Evening of Score which is basically Rory and Price dealing with the major argument of their relationship after he makes her torture someone using their wife and kid, which is a big goddamn issue with Rory. Warnings for: m!receiving handjob, dirty talk, emotional manipulation (but also Rory is used to this shit from Price, so she sees it pretty blatantly and is not fooled), piv sex, unprotected sex, honestly this is the ship at their most toxic but lessons are learned

*also this is such a long snippet, I AM SO SORRY, this chapter is like 5k words that keeps bouncing between them fighting and fucking*

“You gonna talk t’me again, love?” He asked in a low rumble, his own frustration setting in as he crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight between his feet. It wasn’t like her to bring her work home with her, but this instance had stuck. There was a shift in the paradigm. It twisted at her, digging into her whole belief system and choking the life from it like brambles. Her father’s words echoing in her head: a poor influence. He wasn’t wrong. She had forgone everything her mother and father had instilled in her – protecting others, helping them at their lowest. It was unforgivable. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the loss of what she was becoming. 

Scouring at her scalp with her fingers, she built up a frothy foam of bubbles in her hair – the lightest thing that existed on her shoulders at the moment. Working her jaw as she relented and finally spoke, “Eventually.”

The tension in her voice was palpable, the anger a very real force that lifted its ugly head as much as she tried to bury it. Her usual go-to of slapping on a smile and pretending as though she didn’t have a care in the world wasn’t holding, the exterior long since shattered as much as her will was as she came to terms with what she had been capable of. “This is ‘cause of the interrogation, isn’t it?” John’s voice remained firm, unapologetic in his requirements for the mission. Rory sighed, dipping her head back under the water, letting it cascade over her, washing her sins away and restoring her resolve as the soap circled the drain. Opening the glass door, steam poured out in a cloud around her, turning the air around them hot and oppressive as she stared him down with a glare that brooked no argument. “It’s not the interrogation – I've done a million of those. It’s the fact that I was made to cross a very real line I have set for myself. One – my darling,” the term of endearment having lost its sentimentality as she spat it out, “You are very well aware of. I don’t hurt children –”

“You didn’t,” Price interrupted, giving her a little shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t harm him or the wife.”

“Christ, are you listening to yourself, John?” Rory snarled. “Didn’t harm him?” She snatched the towel from the bar beside the shower and wrapped it around herself quickly. “He’s going to be bloody traumatized having been kidnapped and forced to witness his life, and the ones of those he loves, being threatened.” Wiping her arm across the bathroom mirror, clearing it of the film of mist, glancing at him through it, their eyes met in a battle of wills through a plane of glass. “We may as well have signed him up to join AQ ourselves – certainly gave the poor little bastard enough of a reason to do so.” Rory sighed, shaking her head as she gripped the edge of the sink counter. “We are going to be the enemy to him for the rest of his life after what we did. A very real monster under the bed… and maybe he’s fucking right.” She glanced over her shoulder, her furrowed brow held tight along with the purse of her lips in an angry pout, staring at the man she loved, not quite sure what sort of answer she expected from him at that moment. 

Rubbing at the back of his neck, his steely gaze locked on hers, trapped in a tug of war between the two sides of himself. One, The Captain, who did whatever it took, whether savory in his actions or not. A mindset trained into him to put the mission first, no matter the cost. The other, John Price, the man who loved the woman stood before him, who tried to be a better man for her.

“You know that’s what it takes, Ror. This fight is never gonna be pretty, it’s never gonna be clean. Blood on our hands, it’s what we do – I know you know that. It’s nothing new to either of us.” The muscle in his jaw clenched, a reminder of the hidden savagery he wore buried beneath his rugged features. “You’re angrier with yourself than you are with me. Don’t try and deny it. Worried about pissin’ off your father, betrayin’ some vision he has o’you. – and maybe you are, but he can sod off.” Before she could argue, Price stepped forward, collecting her chin and holding her steady in his grasp, the calloused pad of his thumb drifting tenderly over her plump lower lip, freezing her like a deer in the headlights. “Might make us monsters,” he whispered in a husk, “But we do the bad things so that the rest of the world only deals in the good. And, speaking for myself at least,” his voice hoarse with the admiration he held for her, head tipping to the side as he offered her a sly smirk, “Feel a little less like one when I’ve got you with me.” Her eyes closed, sighing heavily, as he pressed his forehead to hers, tipping her chin upwards to meet him in a searing kiss, apologies in each press of his lips against hers without ever uttering the actual words. Far too stubborn a man to concede openly – with John, actions always spoke louder than words. 

Pulling back, the fire still burned in his blue eyes, the torrid desire turning a sensual kiss into something more primal. His hand gently stroked her jaw down to her throat as if she were made of porcelain – despite the danger he willingly let her be thrown into – with him, there always seemed to be that fear he might break her, that he was forced to be gentle. 

“I might ask you to cross some lines, but you know I'd never make you do something that’d harm you, darlin’.” His voice kept low, an insidious purr, as his mouth traveled down the smooth column of her neck, his whiskers rasping against her flesh still slick from her shower. “You know I’ll always take care of you, my girl,” he murmured against her pulse. Rory’s hands curled around the counter of the sink, her knuckles shifting from red to white as she leaned her weight against it. The backs of her thighs pressed against the cool edge, her head rolling back granting him full access to her throat with a quiet moan. 

She hated this, the anger that still welled inside her, the way he denied her side of things. One of his worst flaws was his belief that he was always right, despite the evidence before him. She hated that he could make her feel so goddamn docile sometimes, so obedient. His good girl.

Price’s firm hand on her hip held her in place with an unyielding grip. Fingers kneading at soft, smooth flesh under the towel, dug in to leave a claiming bruise upon her. His body – heavy, dominating – was an iron embrace that never let go. 

“Christ, John,” she mewled, her arm coiling around the back of his neck, fingers splayed through short, cropped brown hair as his teeth scraped gently along her skin. A shiver coursed down her spine, the humid warmth of the bathroom doing little to prevent the goosebumps that scattered her body in the wake of his touch. 

A low chuckle rumbled from deep within him, vibrating against her. The surge of lust was undeniable, a force that pulled them together like two magnets. Gently grasping her wrist, he moved Rory’s hand away from his hair and guided it towards his stiff member, throbbing with want, strained against the material of his pants. "You and me, Rory," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire as she cupped him over the material, her fingertips gently caressing the outline of his bulge. "Trust in me, that’s all you’ve ever had to do." “You know I trust you, that’s the bloody problem,” she snarked while unbuttoning his pants, zipping down the fly with a fervor that was a testament to the devotion she held for him, one that had never faded after two years together and the crucible of bullshit they had faced throughout their careers. The anger still simmering inside her, just below the surface fueling the lust in equal measure as she tore his pants down his thighs. 

Cock springing free, he was eager to have her. Taking a deep, ragged breath, he pulled back slightly. "Look at me," he commanded softly, insistently. His darkened gaze daring her to deny him anything. “You can be angry with me all you like. Won’t change a damn thing, and you know that. This is our job, Rory.”

Hazel depths burned like the embers at the end of one of her cigarettes, holding within them a mix of rage and ardor as she glared at him. Swallowing thickly, her back to a wall, knowing full well this was what the man she was in love with was capable of, and always had been. Dangerous – confidently so – wielding power and secrets without a hint of a question in his purpose and with no remorse.

"Come here,” his command dripped with authority and laced liberally with carnal desire. Claiming her mouth once again, he took what belonged to him. His hand slid through her damp hair, carding his fingers. Grasping her chin, tender in his touch, he intensified the kiss. Their bodies pressed against each other, a declaration of their unbridled hunger.

Heart pounding in her chest, each rhythm matched the pulse between her fingers as they encircled the thick of him. The gentle friction of her soft palm against his hardness, the warmth of her hand enveloping him as he thrusted slowly, deliberately into her grip, bucking his hips with the same control over his body he showed on the battlefield. 

His breathing became rough as she tightened her hold, eliciting a low groan from deep within him. "That's it, love," he rasped, panting as his forehead pressed against her own, watching her hand pump against him in a fist. Gaze rolling up to fix on hers, whimpering with need, he searched for the reassurance he craved from her, to know that she was his entirely.

Eyes darkening with her own arousal, they reflected equal intensity in the black depths of her blown out pupils. Chest and cheeks left flushed, the same rosy shade as her pebbled nipples.

Thrusting harder, he reached up to cup her face. The calloused pads of his fingers brushed against her cheekbones and traced the curve of her jawline, his thumb stroking the edge of her lower lip, watching as her mouth opened slightly in response to his touch.

"Kiss me, Rory," he demanded gruffly, his voice husky with desire. 

Both needed the connection more than oxygen, breath hitching as their lips finally met and their spark so easily ignited. The kiss – deep, mirroring the carnal heat that radiated between them like white phosphorus, impossible to be extinguished. 

His hips continued to move, driving into her hand with a hunger that threatened to consume him, a hunger that was never truly sated when it came to her no matter how many times they laid together. Breaking the kiss moments later, his breath came in ragged gasps. "I need you," his voice a rough whisper. "Now."

Quick to grab the underside of her thighs, scooping her up into his arms, he lifted her onto the countertop, the cold sting of marble biting at her once more. Slotting himself between her thighs, his own muscular ones kept her spread wide open for him and with a quick move of his hand, her towel fell away and Rory was bared to him in all her glory. 

Large hands roamed over her supple skin scented with the subtle perfume of her vanilla body wash and he nuzzled in against her neck and wet locks of hair, luxuriating as he breathed her in, unable to get enough. "Mmm...you smell like heaven, my girl," he murmured, his words barely audible above the thrumming of their hearts. 

Price’s touch grazed over the sides of her waist, exploring the curves he had mapped out in his memory, moving to cup her pert breasts in his grip. He stood before her, savage jubilation in his eyes, making it staggeringly clear he'd do anything to keep her close – in bed, in battle, in life. 

The possessive gleam in his eyes would make a lesser individual wilt, but not her, Rory was made of the same stuff. That lupine smirk of hers pulled at her full lips, the predatory stare blatant in her eyes as they flared up at him, the amber in her depths flickering alight. Evidence of need coated her inner thighs, her slick folds awaiting him to delve within.

He moved then, swift and certain, the force of desire propelling him forward as he dragged her towards the edge of the counter, hands roaming with the expectant touch of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. The dance between them was as familiar as breathing.

Long legs wrapped around him, jerking him towards her with a press of her heels. Wrangling him. The rare occasion where she controlled the Captain with the tug of the leash he’d given her reign over, the shepherding dog submissive to his lamb. Pushing the ruddy head of his cock that bullied at her entrance into her, slowly, stretching herself open on him, her moan filling the space between them as her face contorted with pleasure.

Gripping her hips tightly, he thrust into her with the force of a man possessed. Each movement was proof of the passion that burned between them, an almost unbearable calefaction. His knees thumped against the vanity doors, the sound punctuating each forceful plunge. 

"Is this what you want?" His voice low and gravelly, the hint of danger in his words sending shivers down her spine.

Breath hot on her neck, his lips grazed her skin, each trailing mark from his mouth a promise of what was to come. Her hands clawed at his back, urging him on, leaving raw, red lines against the tanned canvas of his skin. “I want you to stop trying to turn me into you,” she breathed, a soft, shuddered whisper in his ear as he continued to fill her. His hips stuttered, freezing, halfway in and out of her. John’s piercing blue-eyed gaze bored into her as his jaw clenched – a nerve had been struck. “I’m not,” he growled. 

Eyes locked, captive in one another’s stare, she didn’t back down. “Don’t ever make me cross that line again, John.” It wasn’t a plea or a request, it was an order, a demand. She rarely asked much of Price, but after giving an inch and him taking a mile, putting her foot down was the only resolution. “Listen to me.” Gripping the back of her head, cradling it in the palm of his hand, his fingers coiled into her hair. “I have only ever done things with your best interests at heart,” he rasped, eyes boring into hers, willing her to remember the promise he had made to her in the hotel years ago. “It's never my plan to hurt you, I only ever want to keep you safe.”

“John, you asked me to use a child as bait…” Rory's eyes were glassy as she stared up at him, teeth clenched in a snarl as her words fell from her trembling lips, the guilt festering inside her. “And I did it,” she whispered harshly, “For you.”

His eyes fell for just a moment, an ounce of vulnerability shown by the man who normally remained steadfast and firm in his resolve. Price gave a heavy sigh before meeting her gaze once more. “In havin’ to deal with the Butcher, to find Hadir, I was forced to make a decision, love. But a decision – a hard decision – had to be made. Something I'm far too familiar with, eh?” He tried to force a little smirk, but it failed to reach his eyes, his fingers digging into the tender flesh at her nape as he clung to her, afraid to let her go.

“I'd never intend to put you in a position like that, not if I didn’t already know you were capable of it,” he said with a quick shake of his head, his brow furrowing, deepening the lines of his forehead. “I don't want to break you, darlin’. I know your limits, every one of ‘em, and I’d never push you any further than what I know you’re able to. It’s my job to know that, Ror. You're my best asset. My everything.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, his stare pleading for a forgiveness he didn't often seek. “You know that, my girl.”

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[mouwrites]

kyle or stan oneshot with a reader who suffers anxiety and hits themselves when they get too anxious?

Absolutely! I did Kyle for this one, hope that’s cool!

Little TW for mentions of hitting yourself!! (Not graphic)

Word count: 912

South Park - Kyle When You Hit Yourself

The chilly autumn air nipped your nose as you walked home. The setting sun cast golden rays and long shadows across the terrain, the stark contrast making you blink whenever you transitioned between shade and sun.

Beside you was Kyle, watching the puffy yellow clouds with an absentminded passiveness. He walked quickly, as he usually did when he forgot someone was with him. You weren’t offended, though. You had other things on your mind. Chief was trying to keep up with the long-legged boy, at least until you got to his house.

He finally seemed to remember you were with him as you walked up the steps, and he picked up the pace even more so he could open the door for you. You offered a thin smile as you passed the threshold.

Sitting at his kitchen table, your leg began to bounce. Now that you were stationary, your mind got its turn to rush.

It seemed like you had a million things to do, plus the load of homework you’d been dealt at school that day. You didn’t even know what to begin with. What were those deadlines again? Your leg bounced quicker.

Besides being busy, you were also pretty distressed. You couldn’t explain it, but you were just worried about things. Even the smallest of uncertainties seemed to cause you great anxiety; watching Kyle prepare a snack, you wondered what was waiting for dinner at home, which caused you to start spiraling.

Would you even have time for dinner? When would you leave Kyle’s house? Would it be rude if you left a little early? Would he mind if you ate dinner at his house? You’d need to be careful to be polite around his mother, and of course you’d need to offer to do the dishes—but you already had so much to do and—!

Kyle turned his head at the noise. You froze, praying he didn’t see you. But you couldn’t relax when he turned back around.

Suddenly it was all churning at once in your mind. The incessant noise of the school hallways, the nagging voices of your teachers, people standing too close—mercy!—even the noise of Kyle rummaging in the pantry!

Kyle turned to investigate the noise again, this time catching you in the act. Dropping the bag of pretzels he was holding onto the floor, he lunged over to you, seizing your wrists and holding on tightly to stop your battering.

“Stop that!” His voice scared you. There was anger in it.

When you looked up at him, eyes wide with fear, you were surprised to see the concern lacing his expression.

You shook your head violently. Your hands moved to strike again, but Kyle held fast.

“Woah, stop! What’s wrong? Can you tell me?”

Seeing that he wasn’t helping, he crouched down so that you were at eye level. He moved his grip to your hands, interlacing your fingers and squeezing gently. “Hey, look at me.”

When your eyes met his, he gave an encouraging smile. “Just keep looking at me. It’s just us here. Hold my hands.”

You squeezed his hands tightly, channeling the agitation that was bursting from your seams. Your ragged breaths, which you hadn’t realized were quite so quick, became longer and slower. Tears pricking your eyes dribbled down your face, but no more came.

As your grip eased, Kyle breathed a sigh of relief.

“Better?”

You nodded.

“Now, can you tell me why you did that?”

“Um,” you began, testing the strength of your own voice, “it just… happens sometimes. When I’m anxious. There’s just so much energy, and I panic, and… I… do that.”

“Oh.” Kyle glanced at the ground, processing your words with a furrowed brow. “Well,” he began, standing up, “how about you just squeeze my hands like that instead?” Then, turning a little pink, he added hurriedly: “When you get anxious, I mean.”

You smiled. Squishing his bony fingers did sort of help. “I’d like that.”

“I’d like that, too.” He brushed his thumb over yours, looking at your hands with a little smile.

Keeping one hand in yours, he took the seat beside you. “Can you tell me what made you so anxious?”

A little pang of anxiety revived in your chest when he said that, but you just tightened your grip on his hand.

“It’s been a lot today. And I have a lot to do.”

“Yeah, we did get a lot of homework, didn’t we?” Kyle chuckled, tilting his head back and rubbing his neck in exasperation. “How about we do it together?”

“Don’t you want to hang out like we usually do? I mean, I’m sure you don’t want to worry about homework right after school—”

Kyle silenced you with a dismissive wave. “Doing homework together is still hanging out. And I don’t mind at all; if I’m gonna do it anyway, it’d be nice to have you here with me.”

You smiled. “Okay. Yeah. Cool.”

“Cool. But let me get the pretzels. They’ll ease the pain.”

You giggled, slowly releasing his hand so he could jog away to retrieve the snacks.

He was right; the pretzels helped a lot. Not only with the drag of doing homework, but with everything. Maybe it was actually because you were being productive, but you decided to give the credit to the pretzels. Those, and the amazing boy you were sharing them with, whose hand was now yours to hold when things got bad again.

Yippee another Kyle one shot!! Hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for reading! And thanks anon for the request!!

[luvfy0dor]

I Like my Boyfriend !! ♡ Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ༉‧₊˚.

╰┈➤ Word Count; 2.9k ♡

Warnings; Cheating, angst, some Sigma x reader, abandonment, perchance ooc

Description; Your boyfriend wasn't treated the best as a member of the DOA, the sole benefit being the casino he gets, but that casino is the very place his own partner starts to feel more for his boss than him.

A/N; Im so sorry y'all I know I should be doing requests instead but I think I won't be able to work on other stuff if I don't write this out ykwim 😞

The sky casino became just as much of your home as Sigmas when you started seeing him romantically. You spent many nights there, convincing Sigma to come and lie down with you when he was over working himself or massaging his shoulders after he had to deal with a stressful conflict between visitors. Sigma had welcomed you into his home with open arms once he was convinced you wouldn't take advantage of his naivety, sharing his rather short yet tragic life story and entrusting that you would be as loyal to him as he was to you.

The heels of Sigmas shoes clicked against the floor, making a soft tapping sound as you walked through the Casino corridors, his arm hooked around yours. His long, choppy hair fell over his shoulders so beautifully, the silky strands bouncing as he walked. He seemed tired today, having a little less pep in his step then usual, if you could even call it that. Energy was a better word, the poor boy looked utterly drained this morning. These are all the things you would usually notice and tell him about later, either through means of complimenting him or gently scolding him for spending too many hours memorizing small details about the casino's customers. Today was different, though. Your mind was clouded with the thoughts of someone else, another man, specifically the one you were so excitedly making your way to visit.

Ofcourse, whenever Sigma is around, you feigned strong dislike towards Fyodor, but that couldn't be further from the truth. You enjoyed your short time spent around Fyodor, he was utterly sublime in your eyes in every single category; smarts, looks, and honestly everything else. Despite his musty-seeming aura, he actually kept himself very hygienic. He showered every morning, alluring you with the clean and fresh scent of whatever soap he used to scrub away any accumulated dirt from the day prior. The quiet and quick glances you took of each other made your heart flutter, having to bite your lip in order to hold back a flustered, shaky breath.

You didn't realize just how emotionally disloyal you were to Sigma until he started ranting about Fyodor one evening and you objected him. It's not like you said anything too jaw dropping in your opinion, instead you said something along the lines of "Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit, honey? He's not all that bad." Was that the right thing to say to your boyfriend in that moment? No, absolutely not. Would that be the right thing to say to Sigma in literally any other moment? No, absolutely not². You knew that, you knew that real good and well, yet you couldn't stop your words once they already started to pour out of your mouth like a waterfall. The look of absolute shock and betrayal that painted Sigmas face was one you wouldn't forget in a million lifetimes. You could still hear the sound of his angered, yet not aggressive questions lingering in the back of your head at all times. Anytime you peeked in Fyodors direction with a blush on your face, you heard it.

"Y/n, are you being serious? You know about everything he's done, to me, to all those innocent people!" Sigma quietly murmured to you, the room falling silent with no white noise in the background to take your attention away from his truthful words. "And you really think he's not all that bad?" He says, visibly heartbroken, especially since he had shared all this with you; he trusted you to be the first person to back him up when he participated in Fyodor discourse, you taking the opposing side was something he could almost never predict. In all honesty, he didn't think you would have the heart to.

Sigma firmly believed that if you fell in love with another man, you would atleast tell him instead of leading him along like a horse with a carrot on a stick, but he was clearly wrong. He noticed your brief glances and exchanges with Fyodor, he noticed the way you started to get more nervous around him, and not the unsettling nervousness. It was the kind of nervousness a high schooler would have when talking with their crush. The kind of nervousness you get when you quickly interact with someone you've been so actively pursuing for months now, feeling as though you're finally making progress over a mumbled "excuse me" or "I'm sorry." Sigma believed that you were making progress with redirecting your hearts focus to him rather than to his superior, but today was going to either prove him right or wrong.

"Are you alright?" Sigma asks, the speed of his walking slowing down a bit as he turns to you, his eyes fluttering from your eyes to your lips quickly. You gave him a small smile and nodded. "Ofcourse, why do you ask?" You softly ask him, twirling some of his hair around your finger.

"No particular reason. You just seem a little...dazed this morning. Did you sleep well?" You hummed in confirmation, giving his hand a small squeeze. "Ofcourse I did, I had you sleeping next to me." You smile, knowing damn well you were lying through your teeth. You still loved Sigma, but recently many nights you found yourself gazing out the window, watching the stars for a while as you question your relationship with him. The main reason you stayed was because you weren't confident that Fyodor was in love with you the way you were in love with him.

"Alright." Sigma sighs, reaching for the handle of one of two big doors that towered over you both. "Let's just get this done and over with." He mumbles, pushing the door inwards and walking into the relatively spacious office. Fyodor sits in one of the chairs near Sigmas desk, adjusting his ushanka as he gazes at you both over his shoulder. "Good morning, Fyodor." Sigma says, sitting in his personal chair. Your eyes were glued on Fyodor as your brain turned off it's comprehension function, to dazed by the beauty of his gorgeous, purple eyes. You could hear both of the men speaking, but you had no idea what either of them were saying. You listened to the Russian accent in Fyodors voice, imagining him saying the things you wanted him to. You wanted to hear him tell you how lovely and fantastic you are, you wanted him to tell you he wanted to spend every moment of the day with you, your mind even slipping into fantasies of marrying him; envisioning pretty flowers on tables and what you would say in your vows.

You snapped out of your fantasy just in time to notice Fyodor looking straight at you, continuing to talk with sigma but staring into your soul. You blushed and averted your eyes from him for the very first time since you arrived in the room, diving back deep into your silly little fantasies about an average life with Fyodor before being so rudely interrupted by a loud and echoing knock. Sigma beckoned the person inside, the person only turning out to be one of the casinos many lower-ranked staff.

"Sigma, you're needed out on the floor. I'm not quite sure for what, but one of the customers requested to speak with you." This evoked a loud sigh from Sigma, who didn't really want to leave you alone with a man you had been "all over" a couple of months ago (and still were) , but he really had no choice. In the end, however, he would sacrifice you and your loyalty if it meant he got to keep the one thing he finds true, genuine, and unwavering stability in. The familiar sound and echo of his shoes fill in the silence, the door being left wide open deliberately. The staff member follows Sigma out onto the casino floor, leaving you and Fyodor in the room together, sitting across from each other. You stared at him for a moment, and leaned back in your chair.

"I noticed your staring. Do I have something on my face?" He asks, his calm yet teasing smile made a shiver run up your spine, giddy over the entire situation. Your boyfriend has stepped away, leaving you with your dream man. Alone. You shook your head at Fyodors question.

"No, no. Sorry." You mutter an apology, blushing. He hums, watching as you twiddle your thumbs or twirl your hair, doing anything you possibly could to avoid eye contact. He softly chuckles. "You seem so nervous around me...do I make you anxious? Are you scared of me?" He asks, continuing to tease you and trying to get you to admit your attraction, to which you shake your head quickly. "Not at all, no. I just...sorry, I didn't mean to stare...zoned out." You mumble. He lets out a soft "ohhh" , nodding and leaning back in his chair, his legs crossed.

The room falls silent for a moment, the clouds slowly passing by outside hold your attention. You can so clearly feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head, and if that had hurt you, it must have been utterly agonizing for him. You turn to look at him, your head tilting ever so slightly. Your eyes immediately lock with his, creating even more tension in the room than you had previously thought possible. "I know where your attraction lies." He says with a smirk, resting his head on his slightly balled fists. Your face felt as though it had immediately lit up in flames of embarrassment, trying to arrange your words in the most intelligible way possible.

"Ofcourse you do, you're a smart man." You say, raising one of your eyebrows and bouncing your leg a bit. "Ah, and Sigma is not?" He mutters with a large grin. You sigh a bit, shaking your head.

"I don't recall saying that." He hums, nodding. "You didn't say that, but it was kind of implied. Unless, ofcourse, Sigma knows that you're far more interested in me than you are in him." He says, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He gently grasps your face, squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly between his thumb and every other finger. His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips in the same way Sigmas had earlier that day. This time, instead of feeling nothing at all, you felt a strong, almost magnetic urge to connect your lips to his. One of your hands found itself on Fyodors chest, the other on his thin bicep.

"You're right, it did sound that way. I think he knows, but I think he's really trying to salvage the relationship." You say, subconsciously leaning into Fyodors body. You barely felt sorry, any pang of guilt that nearly hit your heart was rebounded right off because of the high speed that Fyodor had caused it to beat at. The pure excitement and thrill you felt any time he acknowledged your existence made your heart flutter, easily overriding every other emotion. You knew he could feel it too, his eyes softening compared to when he conversed with Sigma, a new gentleness to them. His thumb gently caressed your jawline as he shamelessly stared at your lips. "Hm, so you're leading him on, no?" A soft chuckle erupts from his chest, his hand moving away from your face to rest in the space between your neck and shoulder, almost pulling you in closer.

"You're right again, what a surprise." You smile, flashing your teeth in the slightest as you both mutually lean in, ready to kiss before Fyodor brings his finger up to your lips. "Hm, no, not right at this moment." He grins, pulling away and removing his hands from your neck. You can't help but frown at the lack of affection, this doesn't go unnoticed by the highly observant Fyodor.

"You can get all of that and more from Sigma, dear." He smiles, almost as if he were trying to pull a confession out of you, and boy, was it working. Both of you knew you didn't want that attention from Sigma, not anymore at least. You had seemingly gotten bored after about a year or so. Ofcourse Sigma had his qualities that kept you enthralled for some amount of time, but Fyodor really could offer you all that and a bag of chips. Fyodor was more so your type than Sigma was, and obviously Sigma was beautiful, but Fyodor was resplendent. Sigma was determined, but Fyodor was unwavering, every quality you seemingly loved about Sigma was easily one-upped by Fyodor, and yet you still stayed with Sigma.

You groan a bit. "Fyodor, I don't want the affection from him." You say, caressing his shoulders as he sits, planted in the original chair he had greeted you both from. You softly stroke the fur on Fyodors ushanka as he hums, acknowledging your statement. "Oh, I'm fully aware of that." He mutters. "Why do you think you deserve it? You're quite rude. Leading such a naive man on like that." His grin never fades as he sits cross-legged in the comfortable chair, teasing you with his words.

"You can't talk, you've done worse, and regardless, Sigma may be naive, but he's not emotionally stupid." You say, trying to convince Fyodor to hand you the love and attention that you want from him on a silver platter. He hums, seemingly thinking for a moment. "Mm...maybe later, we'll see." His Russian accent is as present as ever while he speaks.

You nod. "Alright, I guess it'll be worth the wait." You say, playfully rolling your eyes before returning to your chair next to Sigmas. It doesn't take too much longer for Sigma to re-enter the room, reclaiming his spot next to you, the spot that you wish was being occupied by Fyodor. Again, you zoned out, not really caring to listen to whatever it was that they were blabbering about. You found yourself stuck in some demented loop every time Fyodor was in your presence, always ending up almost entranced by him. Bewitched, even, and then going back to Sigma the second he left yet still having him overtake your thoughts and desires. This had to come to an end, and you knew it.

As soon as Fyodor exited the room, you would tell Sigma everything. About how you've simply fallen for Fyodor instead, not intending to break his heart but going unbothered if you did. About how you've been thinking about it for a couple of months now and it was time to end this. It just was not what your heart wanted and had it gone on any longer, it likely would have been detrimental to Sigma. Your heart simply could not beat for him anymore.

You heard them wrap their conversation up, Fyodor standing to shake Sigmas hand, which he hesitantly accepted. They said their goodbyes, and Fyodor grinned at you before he walked out of the office room. Sigma sighed and sat back down for a moment. He looked exasperated, and you knew what you're about to say was only going to make things worse.

"Sigma." You called his name softly, not wanting to disturb him just yet. You gently massage his scalp as he hums in response, leaning his head back into your hands. "I'm not in love with you anymore." You mumble. You can hear his breath hitch and his eyes widening for a moment, his whole body freezing as if someone had hit a pause button on his life. He brings his hand up and pushes yours off of his head, getting up out of his chair. "And you're one hundred percent sure of that?" He asks, his face still having a baffled expression. You nod.

"Alright. Get out." He says, pointing to the door of his office. A part of you wants to apologize, but it would be disingenuous, so you only nod as you head for the doors. Once you shut them behind you, you pick up your speed to a jog and search the hallways for Fyodor. You turn numerous corners before you spot the familiar black fabric of his cape, encouraging you to pick up your pace a little more. "Fyodor!" You call out to him, slowing down when he turns around and grins, indicating your possession of his attention. You walk up to him and start to speak after catching your breath.

"Him and I are over, we're done, I'm not leading him along anymore." You admit, staring deep into Fyodors eyes. "Oh, and how are you so sure I'm not doing the exact same thing to you that you did to him?" Fyodor asks, his hair falling towards one side as he tilts his head, looking you up and down. You roll your eyes a bit. "Are you?" You question the Russian man in front of you.

"No, but what if I was? That would certainly be a crime-fitting punishment scenario, I feel." A small smile is present on his face as he looks at you, taking in every detail of your face, noticing how truly void it was of guilt for your actions. Maybe some pity for Sigma, but nothing more. You smile at his sentence. "Hmm...I don't know, I'd probably be pretty sad." You murmur, placing one hand on his shoulder. "So it's a good thing you're not.

He grins and leans in before whispering softly against your lips. "It absolutely is, someone needs to give you that attention you crave so desperately, right?" He softly says, his grin doesn't fade as your lips connect in a kiss, his hand on your face softly caressing your cheeks. After a moment, you pull away for oxygen.

You nod a bit at his question prior to the kiss. "Yes, and I'm so glad it's gonna be you."༉‧₊˚.

[sadhours]

scumbag blues • dead end friends

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, violence, masturbation, roy, sex work

🤍🩶🤍🩶

Working the ranch after a gnarly night of drinking at for the faint of heart. Gator pukes about ten times while he’s out there, five of them when he’s shoveling shit. Roy looks as happy as a clam. The few times he sees Gator working, he laughs and claps him on the back, bellows out a bible verse Gator ignores. Works harder when he’s angry though. Takes his frustration out on the labor. Makes his body tired by the end of the day.

As he showers, his sick mind imagines strangling Daisy ‘til her face turns blue but it shifts. He’s still choking her but she’s smiling, that pretty cock drunk expression on her face while he mercilessly pounds into her pussy. Can fucking hear the squelch of it and Daisy’s pornographic moans. His dick fills out despite himself, he punches the tile of the shower wall ‘cause he’s so pissed at himself. Of course his anger towards her would facilitate itself as sick and twisted horniess. Imagines slapping her face and pulling her hair but in his mind she cries out in pleasure, begs for more and writhes in the sheets. Because she would, because he’s seen it a hundred times. Daisy loves it rough, loves being told she’s a worthless slut, that she’s addicted to his cock, she’d babble agreements. She’d cum all over his cock.

Gator wraps his fingers around his base, squeezes tight as he clenches his eyes shut. Flashes of Daisy in the many positions he’s put her in, folded up like a pretzel and he tries to remember the way her pussy feels, all wet and clenching around him. Gator spits down on his shaft and spreads it with his fist, tries to recreate how Daisy feels but it ain’t as good. He can picture her face all fucked out, drooling and crying about how good it feels. Pictures her tits, same ones he swore were fake the first time he seen ‘em, bouncing in time with his ruthless thrusts. What makes him cum is imagining her cumming on his cock, crying out in pleasure and calling him daddy. Spurts white, thick ropes on the tiles. Eyes clenched tight while he catches his breath.

What she’d said to him the night before floods his thoughts. Sends Gator spiraling. Has him planning on visiting the evidence room and then heading to a big empty field, artillery packed tight. Shooting at shit usually makes him feel better. Gator considers that maybe getting some other pussy might suffice. Daisy ain’t the only hooker in Stark County. But she is the prettiest. Probably the cleanest.

—

Daisy’s folding sheets when the bell chimes. She’s wearing a delicate floral dress, white with navy flowers and her hairs tied up in a haphazard bun, allowing the air from the fan to reach her sweaty neck. Housework days are the worst. She wanders out of the back room to the front desk, not surprised to see Roy standing in the lobby. Hands in his pocket and a smile that says he’s privy to what she said to Gator the night before. But she knows Gator didn’t tell him, she’s a little worried. Hopes Gator is okay, but Roy wouldn’t be smiling like that if Gator hurt himself.

“What happened to your door?” Roy asks, looking smug as can be.

“Your son happened,” Daisy raises an eyebrow, “I gotta replace that. Lord knows how much that’ll cost.”

Roy pulls out a stack of cash, lays it out on the desk and smiles, “That ought to cover it.”

“Sheriff— I, it feels wrong,” Daisy sighs, looking down at the money. “I really shouldn’t accept it.”

“It’s a gift,” Roy says, “Be rude of you not to.”

Daisy picks up the bills and tucks them into the lockbox, sighing. She opens her mouth to speak but Roy interrupts her, “A token of my appreciation. Whatever the hell you said to him sure as day worked.”

“I banned him,” Daisy says, “Told him he couldn’t have my pussy even he offered a million bucks.”

She isn’t sure why she’s bragging, but she wants to impress Roy, wants him to really know she did a good job. Because it was hard saying that to Gator, even if his cruelness inspired it.

“Well, I ain’t seen him clean the stables that good since he was a kid, so it worked,” he taps his fingers against the desk.

Daisy blurts it out before she can help herself, “I care for Gator. I don’t like hurting him. Hell, Sheriff, I’d quit this shit in a heartbeat if he wanted me to.”

Roy’s face hardens, anger clouds his eyes as he looks at her, “My boy’s not gonna marry an impure woman. Now, if he’d been only sucker to defile you, that’d be a different story. But that ain’t the one we’re in, and I know that if I pay the right price, I could get an hour with you in one of them rooms. And the lord don’t take too kindly on that, so I won’t, but the sin runs deep in your veins, girl. And, God almighty would smite me if I allowed that into my family. So, Daisy, cut your losses. Don’t you go fantasizing about that possibility, ‘cause it won’t ever be one. Gator’s my only son, and he’s barely useful at that. You tainted him enough, but you will never taint him more than you have. And I’ll make sure of that.”

Daisy’s throat tightens as tears fill her eyes, she fantasizes about the possibility of Gator on his knees for her in a god honoring way more than she’d like to admit. If she thinks about it too much, she’ll come to the realization she’s in love with the fucker and Roy’s just spelled it out loud and clear that he won’t allow it. So she can’t daydream too much. Knows it’s a god damn pipe dream anyways. Gator don’t love her, never will because she knows this is the ideals he grew up with. Looks at her as damaged goods never worthy of a ring. And it’s the smack in the face she needed.

“I understand,” she swallows the lump in her throat, “Thanks for stopping by, Sheriff. It’s been a real pleasure.”

“A real one, I’m sure,” he rips his hat at her because he saunters out. Leaves Daisy stunned, tears in her eyes as she tries to forget about all the real pleasures she’s had with Gator. Sure she’s had them because she’s in love with him.

—

“Daisy,” Daphne smiles, red hair blown from the wind as she steps into the lobby. Her skin is kissed with sun, her cheeks filled with cheer as she skips into the space between them. Wraps her arms around Daisy’s waist and pulls her tight against her, squeaking out an “I’m in love!”

Daisy smiles, hugging Daphne back just as tight. Thinks to herself that she’s also in love, but she’s gotta move past it. Hates that in the two weeks since Roy’s last visit, all she can think about is her feelings for Gator. Hitting her like a damned semi truck. Making work difficult when she’s closing her eyes, picturing the deputy beneath her just for the men to ask her to look at them. Hates that her mothers distant voice is in her head, telling her to keep it together. She ain’t raised her to fall for a client so easily.

“Daphne, you been gone three years, I sure as shit hope you fell in love,” Daisy mumbles as she squeezes her best friend. “Tell me about the lucky fella.”

“Sean,” Daphne gushes, hands wrapping around Daisy’s elbows as she pulls away. “We met on the mission. He’s an actor.”

“An actor?” Daisy smirks, “Shit, we got so much in common already!”

Daphne rolls her eyes but her smiles genuine, dreamy even. “We’re engaged.”

“You Christian’s move so quick,” Daisy teases, guiding Daphne to the couches in the lobby. “Is he sexy?”

Daphne squeals, hands rushing to her face as she stomps her feet in excitement, “The sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“He ask your daddy?”

“The night we got in, at dinner,” Daphne extends her hand to show Daisy the rock.

“Oh, fuck, he’s loaded, ain’t he?” Daisy’s eyes bulge as she inspects the ring.

“That don’t matter,” she waves her hand but her eyes tell Daisy everything she needs to know. “I lost it to him.”

“You harlot!” Daisy scolds sarcastically, “How was it? Worth the sin?”

“So worth it, first two weeks we couldn’t stop, I was so dehydrated,” Daphne admits, squeezing Daisy’s knee.

“Ain’t so bad, huh? I always said, you gotta try it to see if it’s worth spending the rest of your life with,” Daisy grins, though her mind slips to Gator. Can’t imagine better sex. Can’t imagine a better man to wake up next to and her makes her heart hurt. Daphne’s quick to catch it.

“Gator?”

Daisy sighs, “Sheriff’s paying me not to see him. I haven’t had an orgasm in so long.”

Daphne frowns then, “You like Gator so much, why let Roy in the way?”

“I don’t like Gator,” Daisy says sternly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Daisy,” Daphne scowls, “You and I both know that ain’t true. You had a crush on him since you were thirteen, and then, what, you’ve spent the last five years gushing about him. You can’t lie to me, babe.”

“I love him,” she admits, the first time out loud. Sounds ashamed when she says it ‘cause she is. “But the sheriff really don’t want us together. And I ain’t about to wind up in jail just ‘cause I love that man. It ain’t worth it. Imagine what my daddy would do without me— god forbid, he knew what I was doing here.”

“I’m just saying,” Daphne starts, “maybe this life is worth leaving behind if Gator means so much to ya.”

“Gator wouldn’t marry me anyways,” Daisy admits, “His daddy wouldn’t let him and really, last time I saw him I banned him from the Inn. Motherfucker punched the damn glass on the door. Trashed my client's car.”

“Would he do that if he didn’t want you so bad?” Daphne challenges, “Gator’s just as sick with love as you, darling, he’s just gonna be too stubborn to admit it first.”

“I miss him,” Daisy confesses, “Not even the sex part, I just miss being around him. He made me feel something, ya know?”

“I do know,” Daphne smiles, squeezing Daisy’s knee, “I’m not running from my something. You shouldn’t either.”

Daphne’s right but Roy’s scarier than the truth.

[vamossainz55]

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜ + daniel oh my GOD

a/n: this could've gone a million ways but was in the mood for writing something soft, enjoy &lt;3

summary: you're sick; daniel takes care of you.

In sickness (& in health,) - (dr3)

The sudden feeling of a cold hand on your forehead surprises you, taking you out of your dazed state. Your eyes open to meet Daniel’s brown ones, pooling with concern as he scans over your features. 

“How did you get in?” Your voice hitches, the itch in your throat taking over as you hide your face into your arm to let out a cough. The throbbing of your head worsens and you try your best to sink further into the bed. Every muscle in your body aches, begging you not to move but you scoot over just a little bit when Daniel sits on the side of the bed. 

“You gave me your room key,” Daniel reminds you, holding up the card between his two fingers for you to see. He ignores the little sigh you let out, setting the card on the bedside table before resting his hands on his lap. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I could’ve dropped by sooner.” Daniel says and you roll your eyes at his words. Your relationship with Daniel was beyond complicated: from colleagues, to friends, to something else, it was difficult to see where the line was sometimes drawn. Sure, none of you were seeing other people, but you would prefer to blame it on all the traveling. 

“You’re too busy for me to be bothering you with this,” You murmur (which is a weak excuse really, because Daniel just rolls his eyes). You both knew he would be ready to drop most things for you, whether any of you would admit it or not. 

There’s a bit of guilt that pools in your stomach, because Daniel had been reaching out since you had last seen him on the track. You had already not been feeling your best that day and canceled on him for the evening, just to wake up with a fever and a stuffy nose. Some people would say it was a good call. 

“How long have you been in this bed? Have you rested enough? Eaten?” He asks, fingers gently rubbing at your arm. To his displeasure you choose not to answer his questions, embarassed by how little you had actually been getting out of bed. Instead, you curl up to your side. 

“Come on,” you screw your eyes shut and pull the sheets tighter around yourself, wanting to tell Daniel to piss off when he pulls them off of you. You feel his hands gently snake under your side before you’re being hoisted up. 

“What are you doing?” You squirm as he carries you to the bathroom, carefully passing through the doorway. You’re too tired to fight too much so you sink into his arms almost instantly. He closes the toilet’s lid with his foot before he’s setting you down to sit there. 

“We’re gonna take a bath and then I’m ordering us room service and you’re gonna eat and then sleep.” Daniel murmurs, gently slipping his hands under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at how cold his hands feel against your skin, his fingers curl over the fabric before he’s pulling your shirt carefully off. 

You stop him before he can get too far, using your arms to hold your shirt down, hugging yourself tightly. You’re flushed red, both from the embarrassment and the fever you had been running with for hours. 

“Can you turn around?” You murmur, eyes bouncing away from Daniel’s. Unlike your usually cocky self, you're shy this time, voice meek. 

Daniel cocks his brow, slowly moving his hands away from your shirt. He keeps one of his hands on you though, gently rubbing at your arm in slow soothing motions that has your heart feeling sickeningly full. 

“What, am I not allowed to look at you?” It’s soft and teasing and you want to hit his shoulder for doing so in your feeble state. It pulls something in your chest that you would rather deny. “It’s not like I haven’t seen all of you before,” He murmurs, thumb reaching to rub at your cheek. 

“It’s different, I’m sick.” You say, leaning back when he comes close to face you, noses almost touching. 

“Sh, I don’t care. Now let me take care of you.” He says before he’s slipping your shirt off. 

Your back presses against Daniel’s chest the moment you get into the bathtub. Despite your complaints Daniel had still managed to convince you that taking a bath together would be the best idea. He slowly traces your skin with his touches before gently cupping water to let it flow down your arm. 

“Feel better?” He whispers as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His stubble tickles your skin and his breath feels wet against your neck. You’re usually too stubborn to admit when you’re wrong, but this time even you can’t deny it. 

“Yeah, thank you.” You murmur, letting out a soft breath when his lips gently press against the back of your shoulder, the driver peppering kisses into your skin. 

The air feels heavy, and for a second you feel the world still. 

Sure, Daniel and you have showered together, had each other’s skin pressed against the other’s too, but somehow, you feel like you have never been this close before. 

He gently nibbles at your sweet spot, smiling when it sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Let’s get you back to bed, okay?” He murmurs. 

~

It's the day of the race that you finally feel good enough to go back on track. Daniel greets you with a little smile and wink when you arrive back at the garage. 

Nobody bats an eye, the rest of the team also greeting you with smiles and pats on the back. As soon as you spot Lando you give him a little wave, watching him walk over to you with a grin. 

“Thank god you’re back, was starting to worry that one of these millennials had to pick up our social media accounts,” Lando teases, earning a hearty laugh from you. 

“Come on, I would never let that happen.” You joke just as Daniel passes by you. His hand gently rests at your waist before he’s finding his place next to Lando. 

Daniel’s surprised you two had managed to keep it under wraps, especially from him, although he doesn’t notice the way Lando’s eyes bounce between you both. 

Lando doesn’t say anything though, because the little confirmation he needs comes neatly packaged to his doorstep the moment Daniel sneezes. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but your head had whipped so quickly to look at Daniel that Lando questions how you didn’t feel whiplash. 

He wants to give you both the benefit of the doubt but the moment you mouth at Daniel a quick sorry he is quick to put one and two together.

Fuck yeah, he thinks. Time to ask Max for his 50 quid.

[sundaymorningdew]

TRACK FOUR: ARABELLA | Jeon Wonwoo (M) | Preview

pairing: 80s!wonwoo x reader

genre: opposites attract!au, 80s london, angst, fluff, smut.

synopsis: Bookish and quiet, wonwoo very much keeps himself to himself; finding comfort in the dusty shelves of the local bookstore he remains as inconspicuous as he wishes. That’s until one rainy night you come tumbling into the store; leopard print, cigarettes and whiskey, loudmouth of the party, you’re everything he’s not so why can’t he help the way his heart thuds a bit harder when you set your galaxy eyes on him.

teaser length: 1301

now playing: Arabella by Arctic Monkeys [X]

a/n: im slowly going to start teasing the tracks im happy with, but enjoy, this is my favourite one to write so far! hopefully ill have one out by christmas <3

series masterlist |

London, 1989

“There was not a soul to be seen, nor a sound to be heard, except the dripping of the rain.”

Wonwoo never loved the rain, he never loved the way the watery whispers from the sky could change everything they touched; nor did he love the way that it could chill him to the very bone and nip at the skin of his hands like aquatic parasites leaching off his warmth. But it was on nights like this, where the winter forced the sun to slink its way back into the horizon early, pulling the inky hue of the night into the sky that he found himself liking the rain. Perched with his arms crossed in the window of Hatchards Bookstore in Piccadilly, Wonwoo found himself enjoying the way the rain reversed itself into the sky as it bounced itself off the pavement in a million tiny thunderous tumps.

Even though it wasn’t the latest in the world, 6:30 pm during the winter might as well have been the middle of the night with the way the sun shielded itself for the day. The flickering lights of London could be seen blooming from the puddles of the pavements; the cracks filling up to give the world a different view if anyone looked closely. It was rare it rained like this, no wind in sight but Wonwoo was sure that you’d be frozen to the bone all the same if you were to step out in it.

He felt glad to be within the warmth of the shop as he watched the people in the streets without protection skitter around like helpless animals looking for shelter; newspapers and briefcases alike held above heads in a makeshift refuge from the watery beast in the sky, the shoulders of lovers damp with purpose as they huddled together for warmth, and the lone soul that didn’t care if he got drenched or left to dry because it wouldn’t change their day either way. It was interesting to Wonwoo to watch how people reacted to situations out of their control, and his spot from the window was a prime people-watching space to do just that. He’d never been a people person, a close group of his choosing was all he needed, but every now and then even he liked to see how the other side of the coin lived.

Wonwoo supposed that in many ways, standing here in the window of the shop had many meanings; this wasn’t just his job, he felt a sense of calm when he was surrounded by the astute sound of nothing but the old building and gentle tinkle of the radio, with the smell of dust and paper clinging to the air, he felt still when he got to work alone with nothing but a smile given to the odd person that would come up to pay. The bookshop to many just looked like another store, but to Wonwoo, that faded green door with the croaky bell was the first step into his world.

It was a contemplative and serene home for any the entered it, it held no judgment and there was no signature to who could and couldn’t enter the place. Wonwoo saw everyone from the youngest of kids to the oldest of the old walk through the door, all with the same interest in mind, finding themselves in the pages of somewhere new. He liked the temperance of knowing that he could play a small hand in helping them with something new, it was a pause from his usually busy days out of the store, it was a second home.

Life for Wonwoo outside of that faded door was weirdly monotonous; he was only really in the city for university, and even then, he found himself in the libraries of the old college, swamped readying old classics that no one else dared to touch, finding stories in the fraying bindings of texts. He wasn’t a social man, he had his friends he would meet up on the weekends he had free, but he wasn’t a recluse either; Wonwoo didn’t love the rain, but he however did love walking in the frozen still mornings, Lady Frost licking at the skin of his nose as the blood rushed to the skin to soothe the biting kisses. He loved walking on his own and experiencing parts of life on his own, the people he needed would come into his life when they were needed themselves.

Most of all, Wonwoo didn’t believe in fate, even though he read pages upon pages of dreamers slewing their wants for a fated life, the man himself didn’t think reality worked like that; if fates were reality, then why were they confined to pages for others to read? He believed in the things that were tangible and real, like if he touched the edge of a page too hard, he’d get a cut, or it he held his skin to close to a flame it would blister, he didn’t believe in things he couldn’t see.

What he didn’t expect to see, ironically, was the presence of the faded green door flinging itself open with a screeching ding; the old bell above it desperately needing replacing. It must have been comical really to see the man of 6ft jump in place at the sign of a small bell, but his people watching, and day dreaming had been so intense he neglected to remember he was still on the clock.

He wasn’t a judge, he didn’t care how people dressed or acted, it was the end of the 80s people had lived through enough that other’s clothing didn’t faze anyone anymore; but even Wonwoo could find his own brow quirking as he took in the cause of the noise.

He felt his arms loosening from his chest as he gazed at you from your spot by the door, drenched and dripping onto the hardwood, he supposed the leopard print coat you wore once had more life to the moving fibres as the rain matted them down and clumped them in a way that made you look like you’d be pushed face first into the river. To be frankly honest it was like the rain had soaked the life of you, Wonwoo took care in spotting the way the mud stuck and tangled itself from your gator skin boots to the ripped and tugged netting that grasped it way up your thighs, the way the dress you wore probably floated and danced around the skin of your hips and thighs before the weather got its hands on you.

What struck him though, even though you hadn’t said a word or moved an inch from the spot by the door, was the way your hands grasped themselves in a fist by your hips; knuckles a sheen of white, the muscles in your covered arms shaking slightly as you pent up whatever feelings inside to the point your skin turned a nasty blush as your fingers cut into the inside of your palms. It was only then he took a look at your face, his shoulders softening slightly as he caught wind of what was up with the bursting through the door.

He wasn’t sure if it was the rain or the way your lip warbled with emotion that tarnished your face; the black running down your cheeks till they smudged into a sickly grey, and the faded brown around your mouth from where he imagined a pretty lipstick once lay, he softened up completely at the distraught look on your face, much like the weather outside you were storming with something too.

“Please tell me you’re still open,” Your voice was bubbled and thick with something he couldn’t place, like something was lodged in your throat and creeping out, “Please god tell me you’re still open.”

[fire-escape-in-hell]

Emphasis on Enemy

Summary: The enemies part of enemies to lovers. The day after making the pact, Mammon and the exchange student come to a head after a long day of ridicule from the student body. No one's having a good time. Words: 1.6k

Named OC!MC (she/her) with determined appearance and personality.

“Look I hate this. If you get yourself eaten by some demons here at RAD, Don’t blame me ‘cause I don’t give a damn.” Mammon practically snarled. "You got that? Don’t go thinking you’re all great and stuff just ‘cause you managed to make some stupid pact, human!”

Nabbed by a rude hand, she had been dragged to an old open-air stone stairwell the Academy had repurposed as a fire escape. She winced as the volume of his voice bounced around the bare walls. Macy wished the sound of the rain and the overtaxed aging gutters would drown him out, and maybe literally drown him while they’re at it.

Her wrist lightly pulsed when Mammon let her go. The additional gloom of the rain muted the lights of the city which usually illuminated the grounds. She couldn’t see all the details of his face, but even through the dark she could make out his glare. Ever since she showed up he’s been stuck in a scowl. 

Mammon could still feel the burn of the looks following them all day. It was a deep and familiar sting, he could feel it on his person though he couldn't point exactly where. It was probably frequent enough to sear a scar in him. He’s fed up with the snickers and the jeers from the fringes of his periphery. He's once again the laughing stock of the Academy.

No fucking more!

If no one else was going to give him the respect he deserves, he’s going to let the mouthiest peon in this whole place know what’s what. But unfortunately the wimp was not yet done mouthing off.

“Ok I get it, you’re not happy. God would you please at least call me by my name?” 

“Since you asked so nicely, sure.”

She blinks, “Oh. Than-”

“-IS WHAT I would say if I was a chump, you fucking idiot!” he baps her lightly upside the head as he walks by her on the landing, mostly just mussing her hair. 

“You expect ME to call you by your name? YOU? A lowly human? Come back in a million years. You’d better learn your place, ‘cause if you keep sayin’ stuff like that, I swear I’ll make you my next meal.” With a devious cut of a smile, Mammon turns back around on a pivot at the end of the landing. He takes a step closer, voice low. “Starting with your head working my way down.” 

She stands eerily still, like a mouse that’s only just noticed the snake in the brush. Her blood chills. The relative isolation of the fire escape flipped from a comfort to a danger in a breath. A small step backwards betrays her fright, and under her sole the light scuff of dust on the flagstones spoke so loudly in the air between them. The rain droned on.

She looked the same as her first day. What the wizard described as the ‘come-and-eat-me’ look. A rodent in a corner. Fuck what do I do? What's he going to do? What do I do?

The gold in his eyes shone cold, even if he wasn't a demon this was a nightmare made real. Encroached upon by a strange man, in a foreign land, unable to read the language, all alone in this stairwell. Her breath begins to hitch at a rhythm she can't control.

“Eh?” He mocked. “Am I that intimidating? Do I frighten you?” Mammon pressed his advantage, winding up his voice so his threats were masked with mock friendliness. He extended a hand, “Then listen… If you stop talking back and just do what I tell ya, then things won’t be so bad for—”

“S-stop!” She managed to croak instead of a sob. 

His extended hand locked in place, inches from her. He’d stopped dead in his tracks. Mammon's eyes went wide with panic.

“Wh…! Wh-what’s going on? I-I can’t move…! Wh-what’d you do to me?! Is this some kind of magic?!” he bleats as he pulls on his legs, flailing as his center of gravity shifts like a tiger in a trap. After a few seconds of uselessly struggling against his invisible shackles, he relents. “Listen up h-hu-huma..” he pauses and once again gauges his situation. He sighs. “Macy.”

She softens, if only a little, as the immediate danger had passed. She almost felt bad. Macy was safe in the moment, but he was just threatening her and he would still be doing so without magical intervention. This demon has proven to be all sharp edges and posturing, and despite the success of the pact’s command, she had the distinct fear of not knowing the extent of its limits. Her safety still felt shaky, she was only saved by happenstance. A lucky break she only stumbled into because of a stolen knick-knack. She tried to dam the thoughts of what would have gone down without it.

“Say something will ya?” He whined.

"Mammon." She responded.

He began to pout. "C'mon! Lemme go! Geeze, who do you think you are???”

“You were going to eat me.” she asserted.

He blustered with the petulance of a grade schooler. “Not actually. Diavolo would have me axed.” and he ran his finger across his throat for theatrics. 

She groaned internally. Does he ever stop talking with his hands?

"Look I promise I'm not gonna eat cha'. Just lemme go… " his face flushed pink as he searched for the word, "Uhh… please?"

Macy mulls it over for a second. She could just… stop him again right? This… Spell? Pact? Magic? Seemed to work... It could probably be trusted. Against the choices of die or put up with this guy, it’s an obvious pick. At least now she’s holding the cards, she had to get something out of this situation, this jerk, and this realm's shittiest tattoo.

She takes a breath. “Yeah ok… Um… Release…?” Macy swirls a definitely magically unnecessary hand movement and it feels as if the lead had vanished from his legs. He sputters as he stumbles back to life, and his first act of freedom is shooting her his nastiest glare. 

“I only wanted to scare ya into being my lacky, which you still are by the way!” he shouts.

If only she could turn the prickling hairs on her arms into barbs. Macy’s temper bubbled high in her throat, “If you don't mean it stop saying it! I'm so fucking stressed out, I don't need any more flippant fucking death threats!” Her voice cracks with emotion that she's obviously struggling to push down.

Mammon scoffs, unmoved. “You're the one who signed up for this!”

“I didn't…. didn't know…… I couldn't have known about all this!” She was also shouting now. “-and I can't even understand these words?!” she unceremoniously dropped her bag in between their feet and swooped down, rummaging around like a racoon in a trash can. She yanks out a now-crumpled worksheet from their earlier alchemy class and forcefully points at a section of units written in demonic script. 

Mammon's record skipped for a second, not expecting this turn in the argument. It's usually all insults by now. She looks… Ashamed? Angry? Embarrassed? Her face is all blotchy, humans are such babies. But… is she like, actually upset?

"I can't read this." Her anger wavers to tears.

Mammon blinks, "So?" Weren't they arguing about something else…?

Her voice shakes again against her wishes "So? SO?! We need it for every class and everything depends on me understanding it!" She takes another breath. “Look. All things considered. I'm stuck here, but I still want to try. You're the only one I can ask!”

“Nah.”

“Please. I really need help.”

He tapped his foot and rolled his whole head along with his eyes. “Actually! You owe ME. Ya know how much Grimm I've lost since you got here? No! Not gonna happen!” Both arms were emphatically making his points for him. “Why the fuck would I do that for someone like you?! Who's been causin’ me nothing but trouble?”

Her expression grows dark and scathing in a second, Macy can no longer hold it back. Her channel changed.

“Because if I can make you stop, I can probably make you do a lot more. Are you gonna help me or not?” her tone was even and low.

She's right. He falters and feels a drop in his gut understanding the implications of ‘not’ in her delivery. The frustration bunched up in his chest. For once in my fucking life could I get a fucking break?! A little respect?! Figures. Lucifer would never give me a good job. Why the fuck am I in charge of watching uneaten leftovers from the human realm? Shitty break after shitty break! Fuck!

Mammon just stewed in his thoughts before finally responding. “D-dang ok fine. But it's because I'm in charge of you and if you fail it'll make me look bad!!!”

She rolled her eyes and tired scorn passed over her face. “Fine. Whatever. Where's the library?”

Mammon's head tipped back and his only answer was a long reluctant groan. He made a point to drag it out as he started up the next flight of stairs, presumably in the direction of the library. She couldn’t help but grumble to herself and she hurried to scoop up her bag. The stout woman sped to a jog to keep up with him as he skipped past several steps at a time. Mammon was incredibly light on his feet, scaling several flights faster than she ever thought possible. She managed a disdainful chuckle under a wheeze. He’s also quick to get on my nerves so I guess it’s only appropriate. Asshole.

[doctordiscord123]

May I please request the Jims setting up a surprise birthday/gift for Illi? Or surprise platonic date? Or just generally something soft with their queerplatonic relationship with Illi…

Co-written with you, @regalrain, using your Illinois.

The Jims were up to something.

The Jims were always up to something.

Illinois had come home after a particularly rough adventure, bloodied and bruised an exhausted. He hadn't had the energy to put up his usual facade and pretend everything was fine, and had almost immediately gone to collapse into bed, leaving the twins worried sick.

And plotting.

"What if we make him dinner? Something real special, his favorite?"

"Not grand enough, and we were going to do that anyway."

"True, true..."

"What if we take him out? He usually takes us out places, never lets us do it...could be fun!"

"Too grand. You saw him, I doubt he wants to move from bed much."

Both Jims hummed, deep in thought...until RJ snapped his fingers. "I got it! Pillow fort."

CJ grinned. "Ooh, I like where your head's at. Dinner, movie, snacks?"

RJ grinned back, both twins aready dreaming up blueprints. "You read my mind~"

+++++

"Shh! He's coming!"

"Don't give it away!"

"Shh!"

The Jim twins' hustle and bustle came to an abrupt halt when the door cracked open, and he stepped into the living room. Immediately, the twins were beaming at him, arms spread, and presenting the fact that they'd turned the entire living room into one massive pillow fort. They had to be utilizing nearly every scrap of cloth in the house, blankets and pillows everywhere, and it even accompanied the TV. The perfect set up to a movie night. The perfect thing after a long day.

The twins grinned, speaking in unison. "Surprise!"

Illinois had heard all their hustle and bustle. It would be impossible not to, with how high strung he was at the moment. Though even at his most relaxed, he typically was keenly aware of his surroundings. All it took was a second, after all…

Anything could happen in a second.

This surprise? It was one he didn’t dream of in a million years, even with all his preparation for anything and everything to happen. He paused in the doorframe, leaning heavily against it. His hat was tucked low on his head, obscuring most of his face from the twins view. His voice soft, if a bit raspy, as he spoke. “….What is this, Sea~? Sky~?”

“It’s a pillow fort!” CJ bounced forward, nudging Illi with an elbow. “We know you had a hard time…figured you could use some relaxing!”

“We made snacks~” RJ came up on his other side, hesitating a moment, before wrapping a gentle arm around Illi, holding him close. “You deserve some pampering, after all you’ve been through.”

Silently, CJ held open the entrance to the fort. Inside, it was nice and dark, cozy, covered in blankets and pillows, and piled with bowls of all of Illi’s favorite snacks, some homemade by the twins. RJ crawled inside, and patted the space beside him, back against the sofa. “Come on!”

While he didn’t flinch, having trained himself out of it a long time ago, his smirk visibly pulled tighter at the nudge. He wasn’t used to the contact, and it always took him awhile to get settled again. The twins were the only two who could get him that way, and he was just forcing himself to relax when RJ wrapped his arm around him. It made Illinois shoot him a look, before he deflated, sighing as leaned against him. Allowing himself to be guided to the fort entrance. Watching RJ go in, before he carefully took his satchel off, placing it nearby. Next, his belts were taken off, neatly placed atop the satchel. Finally, he pulled his hat off.

He held it in his right hand, as he got down to crawl inside. Lips wobbly, eyes filled with unshed tears, as he went to settle beside RJ. Hugging his hat close as CJ made his way in and onto his other side, he took a shuddery breath as he leaned his head back on the sofa.

The full reality of what’s going on hitting him, that not only were the twins home, safe and sound, but they were waiting for him. That they cared enough to build a fort for him, and to remember all his favorite foods that he’s admitted to over the years with them. He reached out, snagging a chicken strip from a nearby snack bowl, before he was turning to kiss RJ’s cheek, then CJ’s. Dark brown, tired eyes closing, as tears finally slipped from them.

“Thank you, Pals… it’s good to be home~”

[sparkywrites25]

Hi, I know people oftenly compare Rivetra to Levihan but I’m a fan of Hange soooo I don’t really like their fights 😭😭 what if a Rivetra au where in Levi introduces Petra to his friends and then Hange started crushing on her and Levi is just so annoyed and jealous because Petra’s obliviously reciprocating Hange’s flirts

Hi hi! I am so sorry that this was so late but I kept starting it and changing my mind about what I wrote. I was also waffling on way too much and, honestly, if I'd have let myself, and didn't already have a million WIPs, I could have easily turned this into a chaptered piece. It did turn out rather different than planned though but I hope you're okay with this.

I really love the idea and I absolutely support you in that I don't like seeing shippers fight over ships. Rivetra and Levihan are both awesome. As are most Levi ships, let's be honest.

---------

Summary: Levi tries to bury his jealousy when his new friend Petra is getting on swimmingly with Hange. But a game of laser tag leads to some interesting revelations.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Petra Ral

Taglist: @youre-ackermine @lunar-rainclouds @captain-natey

Notes: If you like my work and want to see more then please join my taglist. Form is pinned on my blog.

“Leeeviiiii, Petraaaaaa!!!” Hange’s greeting bounced all across the bowling alley parking lot as they jumped up and down, arms wafting through the air like those of a windmill. 

Levi clicked the lock on his car keys, the answering click of the vehicle almost drowned out by Hange’s echoing voice. He pocketed the keys and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. They were giving him the beginnings of a headache already. He could feel it beginning to sprout up between his eyes. 

“Yoohoo!!!” Hange continued as if a dozen people weren’t already staring at the spectacle they were making of themselves. “Come on slowpokes. We’ve got asses to kick! Right baby?!” they yelled. Levi didn’t have to ask who they were shouting at now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Petra laughing and waving back at the messy brunette. 

“Too right!” Petra cupped her hands around her mouth and called back as she and Levi headed over to where the group was meeting. “We’re gonna smash them!” 

“Damn straight we are!” Hange cackled back, equally as loudly. Some of the stares in their direction were turning to glares now, Levi observed. Hange really needed to grasp the concept of not showing themself up by being so loud. He and Petra were closing in on the group within seconds now. 

Irritation gnawed away at him as he looked between Hange and Petra’s laughing faces. He hated the feeling because he knew it made no sense, that he had no right to it. Petra could laugh and play around with whoever she wanted. It shouldn’t bother him. He’d wanted her to get along with his friends, hadn’t he? So why was he this annoyed that she had? Even Hange, for all their lack of volume control, was not irritating enough for him to want to keep Petra away from them all the time. They were an acquired taste to be sure but even so, their  relentlessly enthusiastic interactions with Petra grated on his nerves. 

“Bold words,” Erwin greeted, his voice carrying naturally without feeling the need to project himself across the parking lot. Dressed in his usual favourite colours - a baby blue short-sleeved shirt and beige shorts - he looked as friendly and harmless as he intended to look. It was all a front of course. Levi had seen the man plan many times by now and he couldn’t fault the man’s talent for still being underestimated despite repeatedly thrashing other people. That charming smile and enchanting blue eyes really did wonders for the man. Or he was just a natural-born deceiver. That was equally possible too. “But we’ll soon see who is going to be laughing at the end.”

“Not many,” Levi quipped, eyeing the rainbow psychedelic monstrosity that was Hange’s shirt, “judging by the headache that everyone’s gonna get from Hange’s shirt. Is that your latest strategy?” he mused. 

Hange grabbed their shirt and held it out with a puffed up chest and a grin. “Wha-? This ol’ thing? Of course not!” They declared in mock-outrage, only to grin at Petra almost instantly afterward which provoked a laugh out of the shorter, red-haired woman. 

“As if you’d ever do something like that, Hange,” Petra teased affectionately. As soon as Petra was close enough, Hange slung an arm around her shoulders and began to walk towards the entrance with her. Behind them, Miche and Nanaba followed, their hands linked quietly. Moblit and Nifa brought up the rear with Levi and Erwin. 

“I guess Hange had Skittles for fucking breakfast again,” Levi grumbled quietly.

“You can scoff,” Erwin answered. “But I saw them doing just that this morning. Quite a sizable bowl too.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Levi’s attention lingered on Petra as she snuggled into Hange’s arm, chatting animatedly with the brunette as they left the rising heat of the parking lot. Her yellow t-shirt clung to her thin frame, rising up above her denim shorts. She wore brown sandals through which her colourfully painted toes peeked out. There was no pattern to the nails. One blue, one green and three orange sat on one foot while the other boasted a yellow, a red, a pink and two browns. Levi had long since given up on questioning Hange’s design logic. 

He himself had opted for an outfit as low-key as always; he wore a plain black t-shirt, dark jeans and boots. Miche had offered for something similarly unobtrusive - a brown t-shirt that said “Everything smells great from here”  above a picture of clouds, paired with some sandy slacks and simple flats. Nanaba contrasted brightly in her baby pink shorts and t-shirt and matching sandals. It was an unusually gentle look for her and Miche kept smiling over at her. Levi wondered how attentive Miche was going to be in the match when he couldn’t stop looking at his girlfriend. Meanwhile, Nifa and Moblit had gone, whether intentionally or unintentionally, with matching red flanel shirts. While Moblit had paired his with some ripped skinny jeans, Nifa had opted for denim shorts that showed off her newly tanned legs from her trip to Marley recently. 

———————————————

The refreshing air-conditioning wafted over the group like a wave as they all stepped inside. Rows of colourful lanes and even more colourful balls, shirts and shoes greeted them. Hange was already pointing out a good lane to book only to stop and point out another one. Moblit, despite his years of experience arguing with Hange, was discussing it with them. Levi watched Hange’s gesturing become more and more dramatic, their eyes gleaming behind their filthy glasses. Levi would be amazed if they managed to get any pins down if they were refusing to clean their glasses even for this. 

It took them about fifteen minutes to pick a lane, agree (with much reluctance on Hange’s part) that they were not doing bowling shirts today, get their shoes and some snacks and settle down at their two lanes. Hange set up the two computers so that their teams were competing. 

“Team Captain!” they declared, punching their fist in the air. They faced little opposition. Miche and Nanaba weren’t particularly concerned, nor were Moblit, Nifa, Petra or Levi. Erwin watched everyone for a moment before offering his own services. Then he made the mistake of giving Hange first selection over their teammate.

“Petraaaaaaa!” they beamed instantly. 

Levi felt his mood plummet even more and inwardly cursed himself for that reaction. So what if Hange picked Petra? This wasn’t elementary school where such choices were usually personal slights towards someone else. What’s wrong with you? You don’t own Petra. So what if she’s on Hange’s team? You don’t want to be on Hange’s team. And yet, as he mused over this, he couldn’t help but feel that Hange’s team, even with the loudness that came from the captain, held a bit more appeal now. He shut down those thoughts for now. There was no point in them, especially with the way things stood. Anyway, he wasn’t entitled to anything like that from Petra and he wasn’t chasing it either. He was just being foolish.

Erwin looked around at everyone carefully before making his selection. “Levi,” he chose finally. 

There was a relief in Erwin’s selection breaking up Levi’s thoughts although the certainty that he definitely wouldn’t be on the same team as Petra now, lingered. Even so, the promise of trying to beat Hange’s team filled him with some satisfaction. He could feel his blood pumping at the thought of beating them now. 

Hange and Petra whispered together for a moment. “Miche!” Hange announced. 

There were some raised eyebrows among everyone since normally Moblit was next to be chosen by Hange. Miche was always on Erwin’s team. Still, he smiled and went to sit next to Petra. Levi looked over towards Hange’s team and caught Petra’s surprise on her face. She grinned across at him and Levi felt his own lips tug upwards into the briefest and thinnest of smiles before he looked away from her. Hange immediately threw their arms around Miche and Petra and Levi ignored the irritation burning away in his stomach.

“Moblit,” Erwin didn’t even hesitate once Miche had taken his seat with his new team. Hange spun round with an impressed smile and Erwin shrugged. “You surely weren’t expecting me to pull any punches if poaching is the name of the game?” he challenged. 

Hange clapped their hands once. “There’s my conniving rival!” they declared.

They eyed the remaining two to be chosen - Nifa or Nanaba. Their face contorted into annoyance as they eyed the two of them. By the way their gaze continually lingered on Nifa, the short redhead was clearly the favourite. But with Miche on Hange’s team now, Nanaba would be a double asset now too. But equally having someone’s partner on the opposite team could make a player ever more competitive. Which way did you play it? Keep them motivated by having them on the same team or raise the stakes by making them serve on different teams and risk competition improving or wrecking their games. Levi could understand the principle of this. 

Although he had no partner in that sense, he was quite looking forward to competing against Hange and their team. Especially Miche. Levi pretended not to notice the amusement that tugged on his lips whenever Levi stepped up to bowl. It was even more amusing to watch that smile dip whenever Levi’s natural strength gained him a strike. 

Just as it was quite entertaining to watch Hange peruse and debate their options in their own head as a few minutes passed. It was equally so when Erwin cleared his throat and prompted Hange to make a decision. She chose Nifa and so Nanaba joined Erwin’s team and promised her new teammates that they were going to crush their opponents.

“I don’t suppose you and Miche have a secret agreement that he’ll throw the match if Hange ever snatches him?” she queried with a grin. 

Erwin chuckled. “That would be poor sportsmanship,” he chided her although there was no real firmness in his tone. “But had I such an agreement with me, it would count for nothing now that you’re on our team instead.”

Levi huffed with a slight smirk. “Yeah he’s not gonna lose face in front of you,” he remarked and Nanaba chuckled, running a hand over her face. 

“Ahh well, I guess we’ll just have to play fair then,” she mock-complained and took one of the seats. “All right then, let’s take ‘em down.”

———————————————

Despite the teams switch up, the groups were still relatively evenly matched. Levi and Miche proved to be the better players on their respective teams. Erwin provided solid advice  to his teammates on maximizing the scores if they didn’t get a strike. Hange provided similar tips for their team although whenever they stepped up onto the lane, they played rather gung ho and their balls constantly slammed down on the lanes before they rolled. Moblit turned out to be something of a dark horse whenever he stepped up to bowl. He was a master at securing half-strikes each time even without Erwin’s tips.

“Hange, I don’t really want to be paying for any damage,” Erwin called over to them when one ball landed with a particularly deafening crack that had several members of staff looking over. Hange, to their credit, held up a hand in apology before continuing on with their game. 

Strategy-aside, Erwin was a considerably good player himself. He made a lot of good shots although his determination to play around with angles and muse over how much arm strength to commit poked continually at Levi’s patience. 

Petra herself wasn’t a bad player either although on most of her turns, Hange stepped up to speak to her. Levi would watch them gesture and enthuse about something or other. At one point they wrapped their arms around Petra and demonstrated posture and technique. As if the woman had never bowled before or been part of a winning team. More irksome was the fact that Petra seemed to let her. She laughed and patted Hange’s cheek then hugged her whenever their advice actually paid off. 

Levi knew it shouldn’t bother him but despite that logic, it did. Knowing that just left him feeling even more pissed off. So he focused on what he could control which was his own performance (as well as pointing out things that his teammates were doing wrong). Making quips whenever “the great Erwin” got less than a half strike as well as suggesting to Nanaba and Moblit that they imagine Miche and Hange’s heads on the pins did make for comfortable distractions though.

Regrettably Hange’s team claimed the first victory and then a second victory after lunch which consisted of fast food that Levi considered too fast to justify being cooked properly. Even so, he ate his meal for energy if nothing else. 

After lunch, Nanaba suggested they opt for something a bit more aggressive, throwing a smirk Miche’s way as she did. A lot of eyes lit up when she suggested laser tag. Even Levi had no objections to the prospect of taking aim at people and adding points to the team collection. Especially if it meant wiping Hange’s bragging smile of their beaming face. 

Hange drove Petra, Nifa. Moblit and Nanaba to the laser quest hall while Erwin drove Levi and Miche. The car journey was perfectly peaceful without Hange shouting and pointing at everything and punching people whenever they saw a yellow car. However the drive was not without it’s nuisances. This one came in the form of a very tall, blue eyed busybody in the driver’s seat. 

“You know, Levi,” Erwin remarked as he navigated them around a roundabout, “I hate it to say it but you’re going to need to act faster this time.”

“Excuse me?” Levi grumbled from the back seat. Even Miche shot Erwin a curious look. 

“Speed doesn’t guarantee a win in bowling,” he remarked in some confusion. 

“I’m not talking about bowling,” Erwin explained and raised his eyes to meet Levi’s in the rear view mirror. “I’m talking about getting Petra on your team,”  he told Levi. 

Levi’s grumpiness quickly transformed into a scowl. “Did I say I wanted her on our team?”

“You didn’t have to,” Erwin replied. “The look you gave Hange’s team after Petra joined. Thankfully looks don’t kill or we’d be burying Hange soon enough,” he continued. He smiled and Levi wanted to punch it, to knock that smug look right off his face. 

“I was glaring at Hange because they’re too fucking loud,” Levi lied. 

“They’re always too fucking loud,” Miche laughed. “Today you were giving death rays out with those eyes of yours.”

“Smell that did you?” Levi grumbled. 

Miche shrugged and gave the air a sniff. 

“Please, Levi,” Erwin interjected as he pulled off the highway onto a quieter road that led to the outskirts of Mitras, “let’s not dance this dance. You care deeply about Petra.”

“That’s because we’re friends. Presumably you care about your friends, Eyebrows.” Levi argued. 

“I don’t get grumpy when my friends get flirty with other people.”

“I told you-”

“Spare me the lies,” Erwin sighed. “There’s no shame in liking someone, Levi. I don’t know why you’re fighting this so much.”

“You know, just because you think you can read into my head doesn’t mean that you can,” Levi folded his arms. “There’s a word for what you’re doing, you know.” He remarked, tilting his head slowly as if realizing something. “You know what… yeah, I think that’s exactly what you’re doing,” Levi’s tone turned taunting at once. “And you accuse me of lying.”

Erwin’s shoulders tightened a little. “If I knew what you were talking about, I might be able to answer that.”

“You’re projecting, Eyebrows. This is about Hange,” Levi pointed out. 

Miche snorted and side-eyed Erwin. “Is it your turn to play denial?” he asked. 

Erwin’s grip on the steering wheel had strengthened. “I’m not denying my feelings for Hange,” he finally said after a significant pause. “But I can admit it, unlike some of us. This isn’t about me not facing up to that.” He looked back at Levi in the mirror again. “I can’t project what I’m willing to acknowledge.”

Levi’s lips tightened and he exhaled through them thinly. “However I feel about Petra, that’s my business.” Levi kept his answer sharp. He averted his gaze to the window and watched the city thinning out into suburbs quickly. “Anyway I know a lost cause when I see one,” he mumbled, “even if I did have those kinds of feelings for her.”

Miche was back to looking confused again. “Why?” he looked over his shoulder at Levi before the shorter man’s meaning began to land on him. “You think Petra’s flirting with Hange for real?” he questioned. “I don’t know about that. Hange’s leading the way in flirting with her but I don’t know if Petra’s into it.”

“There’s only one way to find out for sure,” Erwin cut into the conversation once again, causing Levi to roll his eyes. 

“Let me guess. Wear my heart on my sleeve and see if she bites? Worst case scenario, I get my pride stamped but hey it’s all just personal growth right?” Levi drawled. “If that’s what you’re gonna suggest then that would be some pretty shitty advice, Erwin.”

“You’re right. That would be bad advice,” Erwin agreed, not taking his eyes off the road now as the speed limit lowered. “You should credit me with more sound judgment than that,” he added. “All you need to do is see if she’s interested in Hange. What happens next is up to you?”

Miche let out a short laugh. “You manipulative bastard.” Erwin glanced at his friend with a frown and, from the backseat, Levi scoffed too. 

“So I find out Hange’s situation for you at the same time?” the raven-haired man questioned. “Yeah, this definitely sounds like a you plan.”

“It has to be better than you stewing over there like a poisonous mushroom not knowing Petra wants to be with Hange or not,” Erwin argued. He slowed down once more as a sign for the laser quest hall appeared. He steered the car into a left turn, into a large retail park. In the middle of which, the laser hall was marked by a scarlet hall and the word LaserQ hanging in rainbow lettering above the roof. “But if you’d prefer to stew, that’s your business?”

“You’re assuming, in all this, that I actually fancy Petra,” Levi grumbled quietly. 

“If you want to stay in denial, Levi, that’s your business,” Erwin shrugged and pulled into a parking space.

Levi said nothing, abandoning the discussion in favour of leaving the car and waiting for Hange’s arrival which was not a long wait considering the speed at which they entered the retail park and swung into an empty spot a few spaces from Erwin’s. The parking lot for the retail park in general was fairly empty today, Levi noticed. Unusually so. Still, if it meant less of a cue and less screaming kids to contend with while waiting for their slot then all the better. 

“How do you still have a license?” he quipped as Hange and the others joined them. 

“I’ve been asking them that for years,” Moblit chuckled, shaking his head at Hange. “You drive like a maniac.”

“Like a maniac?” Levi smirked over at Hange. “They are a maniac.”

“And proud of it,” Hange snapped their fingers into a finger gun at Levi. “The world needs some good maniacs in the world. You’ll be thanking me when I make significant scientific advancements in pharmaceuticals.” They declared, chin raised high in determination. “I’m coming for you, Common Cold!” they added, pointing ahead of them. 

Petra fell into step beside Levi, shooting him a serene smile as she did. “I expect your ride was quieter.”

“You’d think,” Levi mumbled, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “except I had Erwin yapping some life advice at me for the whole journey.”

Petra laughed again. The sound made Levi’s chest feel less constricted. It filled his eardrums with pleasantness. “That’s pretty deep for a Saturday afternoon,” she mused. “What was he trying to advise you on?”

“Just some general decision-making,” Levi answered with a shrug. “I can’t say his advice was that helpful.”

“Maybe you should pretend that it was,” Petra snickered, “otherwise he’ll keep trying.”

Levi huffed out a small laugh. “That’s not a terrible idea.”

Yet even as they continued their walk towards the laser tag hall, Levi couldn’t help but reflect on Erwin’s advice and the opportunity he now had to ask Petra about Hange. Hange was hanging onto Miche and Erwin up ahead while Moblit, Nifa and Nanaba were discussing game tactics just behind them. He could stop Petra for a few moments and ask.

He could do. It wasn’t the worst advice that Levi had ever received. It was fucking awkward though because then it invited the question of why he was interested in the first place. If he played it off as curiosity then she might smell a rat anyway. It wasn’t like he usually sought out any gossip about other people’s relationships. He, honestly, couldn’t spare the interest and the time to waste on such things. Which left very few plausible possibilities left and generally they lingered far too close to a result that he wasn’t going to like. That awkward rejection. After all, Levi considered himself a good reader of people. He was fairly adept at getting the measure of people and he was sure that if Petra did feel something then surely she’d have shown something of it by now. She wasn’t like him, a hider of emotions. She wore hers in a way that Hange would call “healthy compared to Levi”. So that only left the conclusion that Petra only saw him as a friend. 

With that in mind, why would he want to draw attention to it and make their friendship uncomfortable. Surely his feelings would eventually disappear. He would learn to ignore them. Better that than living with perpetual remembrance and awkwardness. So, no, he didn’t need to hold her back for a conversation about that. He could live with things like this and leave that unspoken. It was unusual for Erwin to not account for that when he gave Levi the advice although perhaps that just wasn’t something that would concern him.

“Are you all right?” Petra’s question surprised him out of his own inner monologuing. 

“Yeah,” he semi-lied. “Just enjoying the quiet while I can.”

Petra laughed softly. “Yeah, not a bad call. I love Hange to bits but they should really come with volume control.”

“Or a mute button.”

“Don’t be mean,” Petra elbowed him a little. “You don’t need to pretend that you don’t like them. They’re one of your best friends.”

“I can care and still think that they’re noisy as fuck,” Levi quipped as the pair of them walked through the doors into the facility. 

“Better hope they’re not on your team then,” Petra teased. 

Levi cringed as he imagined Hange’s tendency to whoop alerting the enemy to their whereabouts. “I can only pray for that,” he muttered. 

Petra laughed once more as they quickened their pace to join the others who were gathering at the counter. 

Hange was already talking with Erwin who briefly caught Levi’s eye for a moment. “As you and I were both team captains last time, Hange, perhaps others can take those roles this time,” he suggested quickly. Levi buried the satisfaction that was attempting to show itself on his face. If Hange wasn’t captain, they couldn’t choose their team members.

“Yeah, okay,” Hange agreed and stepped to one side with a grin. “So who wants it?”

There was a scattering of conversation between them all before Nifa raised her hand as did Petra, to Levi’s surprise. He eyed her with one slightly raised brow and it lifted even higher when she winked at him before looking away and gesturing for Nifa to make her selection first. 

“Hange!” Nifa pointed dramatically at the brunette who cackled and did a victory dance on the spot. 

“Dream team alert!” Hange declared before bouncing over to Nifa like a hyperactive five-year-old. 

Levi fought back an eye-roll and prayed that Nifa wouldn’t make him her second selection. He focused on Petra who was gazing around thoughtfully at everyone. Then, her attention snapped to Levi in a second. “Levi,” she declared. 

His heart did a strange motion in his chest and he pushed down the feeling, chiding himself for being ridiculous. He did, however, lean in to Petra’s ear as he stepped up next to her. “Appreciate it,” he murmured. She chuckled softly. 

Nanaba joined Nifa’s team next and Erwin joined Petra’s. Moblit was selected for the final member of Nifa’s team while Miche joined Team Petra. 

Hange evaluated Petra’s team as they all began to put on their battle vests. Petra’s team was lit up in purple light while Nifa’s team was lit up in green. Hange quickly unfastened their hair from the ponytail then shoved it all up again into one that was - to Levi’s frustration - even messier. “Y’all are going down in ways you can’t even fathom yet,” they cackled as they finished their own straps and began to help Nifa with hers despite the girl’s laughing insistence that she could manage. Levi was quite convinced at this point that Hange was just incapable of staying still. 

“We’ll see about that. You’re not the only strategist in the room, Hange,” Miche fired back with a smile. 

“No, but I’d watch your back. Who says he won’t throw one of you to the wolves to protect his own score?” Hange teased, wriggling their eyebrows. 

Moblit eyed them with some suspicion. “You jumped to that strategy awfully quickly.”

Nifa laughed. “Okay maybe don’t get too close to Hange guys!”

“Hey! I would never!” Hange slammed a hand over their heart exaggeratedly. “Tut tut tut, such little faith in your comrade.”

“That’s not exactly something that you would never do,” Moblit smirked at them. “I still remember the February 2021 incident.”

“I apologized for dislocating your shoulder,” Hange pouted with folded arms. “And I was not pushing you in front of me! That kid, Stephen, was all lined up to hit you. I just got carried away in moving you,” they recalled. 

“You think?” Moblit laughed and slung an arm around Hange. They leaned into his hug with a grin. 

“I feel like that is gonna be on your tombstone, Hange,” Nifa said in a loving voice. “They got carried away.”

Hange’s grin seemed to stretch even wider. “That would be a fun - and apt - epitaph for me. Although Saviour of Mankind from the Common Cold would also be good too.”

Laughter bubbled through the group as they stepped into their teams so that the attendant could lead them inside their room. 

“Good luck,” Nifa and Petra declared and shook hands. 

They were led into a darkened arena with multi-coloured lights projecting on different areas. Across the middle of the floor rose many tall walls, some of which had holes cut into them of various shapes. Lines of thin little lights illuminated the pathways around the walls. 

The two groups stared down at the layout as they began to descend the stairs leading into it. Nifa’s team walked ahead. Petra slowed down so that her team was held back a bit. Concentration burned across Petra’s eyes as she stared down at the arena. Beyond her, Levi could see Hange’s eyes scanning over it all. He didn’t doubt for a moment that they would memorize at least most of it with their impressive memory. They may be a noise nuisance but their intelligence was not to be underestimated here.

He focused on looking back at Petra who was slowly stepping down, observing as much of the set up as she could. He could see her lips pressing into a thin frown as she did. “Hey,” he said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder, “just do your best. We’ll figure it out.”

“Yes, don’t worry. They only change the layout a finite number of times,” Erwin added as he leaned over Levi’s shoulder. “We’ve probably played in this one recently.”

Petra nodded and was silent for a moment before she exhaled. “Thanks guys.”

“I’ll be able to sniff those guys out no problem,” Miche added and Petra laughed softly. 

“There’s perks to having a sniffer dog,” Levi muttered and heard Miche huff out what sounded like a laugh. 

“Okay teams, take up positions,” the attendant called once they’d all reached the bottom. She pointed to a gigantic clock on the wall, glaring down with red light. “When the timer starts, the game begins and points will begin to count. You have three minutes to get yourselves into positions,” she added. 

Now that they were on ground level, everything in the arena rose up imposingly. The two teams began to move out along different pathways, spreading themselves over the space. Levi hurried swiftly along several paths before ducking behind a short wall that jutted out on two sides, providing excellent over. He crouched down and pointed his gun up, ready for anyone that might use common sense to check this space. He listened to the shuffling of feet as teammates and rivals similarly found spots in which to hide or launch their attacks. Staring up at the scoreboard that had now appeared below the clock, he tightened his grip on his gun. 

“Woohoo! Let’s go!” Hange cheered.

“Shut up!” Levi heard Nifa hiss although there was a giggle in her voice. 

He refocused on the clock again. 60 minutes was frozen to the screen. He steadied his breathing, waiting for that number to shift. 

Come on. Come on. 

59:59

There was a scuffle of movement from all sides and almost instantly Levi heard the first sounds of shots being fired followed by increasingly hurried footsteps moving around the arena. Here, there and everywhere they ran. He looked in the different directions, trying to focus on the immediate threat. His senses snapped into place, focusing on those noises nearest to him. His body stiffened and, tightening his grip, he remained in a crouch, waiting with baited breath. 

He rolled his eyes as Hange’s triumphant cheer accompanied a grunt of disappointment from Miche. However Hange’s cry soon turned into a yell as their vest beeped with the sound of a hit. By the sounds of the feet hurrying away, Levi would guess that Erwin had landed a hit. 

A blur of green light rushed past Levi’s spot and he wasted no time in opening fire. Moblit stumbled to a stop as his vest announced his hit. He glanced back at Levi and then rushed off again. Levi instantly moved away from his hiding place and crept around a corner. There was a long stretch of unattended space so he hurried along it. At the last second, Nifa jumped out and fired at him. He leapt aside just in time and took a shot at her. It missed and she darted down another path. He began to pursue when the hairs on the back of his neck tingled. He spun around only for Hange’s shot to hit him in the chest. 

Hange cackled and threw up their hands in the air in victory. Suddenly their vest lit up again and they turned around, fuming when they saw Petra appear behind them. “Traitor!” they exclaimed in mock outrage before rushing off once more. 

Petra grinned and strode up to Levi. “All’s fair in laser tag,” she called back to Hange. 

“Nice shot.” Levi said, pushing her back out of the line of sight they were stood in. He cast a glance up at the scoreboard which proclaimed that Petra’s team were ahead by ten points so far. However the sound of another blast quickly brought Nifa’s team up another ten points, signaling a draw. “Come on,” Levi urged Petra to follow him down a diagonal path that cut across the arena. 

They made it down the path and along another before they rounded the corner and came face to face with Nanaba who opened fire with a grin. Petra cursed, laughing, as she was hit but Levi dodged and fired squarely at Nanaba’s chest. 

“Nice one,” Nanaba smirked before dashing off down the way Levi and Petra had come. 

Petra and Levi quickly made their way up the path, with Levi following behind Petra in side-steps, keeping his eyes on anyone who might come up behind them. As they reached the corner, Petra looked around and raised her gun as blaster fire sounded. Across the room, at the opposing corner, Moblit was opening fire. The pair of them dodged each other with nimble side-steps. Levi stepped in next to Petra and joined in. As Moblit stepped side, he fell into Petra’s line of fire and she got him square in the chest. 

Petra cheered before her own vest lit up. She spun around to see Nanaba facing her back the way she’d come. The tall blonde took a shot at Levi who immediately began to pursue her. She laughed and darted away. Grinning, Petra began to chase down Moblit. Halfway down that path, another one opened out and Nifa sprung out firing her shots. 

Petra dodged but one of them managed to hit her and she playfully cursed. “Damn you ninja!” she cried out. Nifa gave her a grin back and half-bowed before scurrying off towards where Moblit had been, only to back away when Erwin appeared in the corner instead. “No, no!” she cried out as he opened fire on her and got her in the gun. 

“Vengeance is mine!” Hange roared from somewhere behind Erwin and he turned with a smile, opening fire on wherever Hange was. 

Petra gave chase to Nifa who ran into Levi as soon as she was able to shoot again. He shot her in her chest and she complained again and dashed off. 

Levi and Petra glanced up at the scoreboard now. 

Team Petra: 200  Team Nifa: 190

“It’s gonna be close,” Petra panted. Despite the fact that running wasn’t allowed, everyone was moving at a quick enough pace to tax themselves. 

“You okay?” Levi asked, turning his back and aiming his gun at the sound of nearby movement. Hange appeared at the end of that pathway and he shot at their back. They immediately flipped him off and he smirked back, watching them flee the behemoth that was Miche. 

“I’m good,” Petra told him and readied her own gun. 

She set off again, taking turn after turn, quickly growing suspicious when she didn’t run into anybody for a few minutes. She spun around, keeping her gun level. She jumped over a cylindrical obstacle and, as she was in the air, she spotted a familiar blonde head crouched nearby. She reached the corner and saw Nanaba with her back to her, crouched behind a low barrier and firing across a space at Erwin who was also ducking behind a barrier. Neither of them found it particularly easy with their height. 

Crouching low herself and keeping her body mostly hidden around the corner, Petra angled her gun towards Nanaba and, after a moment adjusting her precision, shot her in the back. Nanaba swore and fell forward from the shock. Petra rose up and backed away with a smile until her back hit a gun. She turned around with a yelp and Nifa grinned as she fired into Petra’s chest. 

“Nice shootin’,” Nifa teased and raced around Petra. She began opening fire on Erwin only to yelp when her vest took a hit. “Damn you Miche!” she laughed. 

Petra hurried back down the path she came down and then took one to the right. Halfway down that path, a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into a small space, boxed off on three sides. She opened her mouth to point out the no-contact rule but Levi raised a finger to his lips and pointed towards the entrance to their spot with his gun. 

Petra was about to say that she didn’t hear anyone behind her but seconds later, Hange appeared and Levi fired as soon as they spotted Levi and Petra. 

“Damn you, Levi!” Hange cried out. Even so they grinned like a hyena and ran off cackling, making Levi instantly torn between suspicion and exasperation with Hange’s manic ways. Did they know someone else was coming along or were they just being insane as always? He stepped in front of Petra automatically.

“Levi,” she murmured but he hushed her. 

He stepped back, lightly pressing her against the back of the space with his back. Petra’s hand dropped from the gun, instinctively touching Levi’s side. She felt his taut muscles pressing lightly against her chest. She felt the movement of his body as he breathed and a flicker of pleasure shot through her like lightening. This close to him she breathed in the subtle aroma of his aftershave mixed with the ever-so-slight tinge of tea. The back hairs of his undercut were millimeters from her face. An odd thought that she could lean in and press her lips to his neck with very little effort came to her and so her already heating cheeks inflamed even more. She suddenly found herself with the itch to reach up and play with the longer strands of his hair. She pushed that urge away - she was getting good at such things by now. 

Her mind wandered, praying that nobody did come along to disturb this moment, that she could keep Levi here against her like this. There was no Hange to play along with and distract herself with now. There was no big group to hide the glances she gave Levi. There was no one she could gently nudge into telling her more about Levi. There was literally nothing between her and Levi and her heart recognized that, pulsing hard in her chest. Her brain was sending dizzying sensations all over her body in collaboration with her pounding heart. She wanted to kiss that jawline, to make her way up to those lips. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to be pressed against his lean, muscular form. She wanted her hands in his hair and to look into those perfect grey-blue eyes and see if what she felt was reflected in there. 

She wished it was as easy to hug Levi as it was to wrap her arms around Hange. She wished that she could hold Levi’s hand and snuggle into him. She loved Hange to bits and they were a dear friend but Petra desperately wanted to transfer that physical affection towards her and Levi instead. But Levi wasn’t very demonstrative about what feelings he had full stop never mind public displays of affection - if he even felt affection for her. 

Being pressed together in that space brought it all home; all the weeks of uncertainty since they’d met and never quite able to get a read on what Levi might feel. You haven’t made things easy for yourself, Ral, she mused. Yet, all the same, the situation seemed to offer itself up to her and, in those lingering seconds of silence and darkness, Petra felt every ounce of uncertainty slip away, to be replaced by sheer determination. I have to know, one way or the other. 

“Levi,” she whispered, letting her gun hang down her front from its straps. 

“Someone’s coming,” he muttered. 

To hell with this game. Petra thought as her hands took hold of Levi’s shoulders and pushed hard, turning him towards her. His head jerked around, eyes confused and annoyed as they sought out her own. Before he could object, she moved her hands and pushed him against one of their hiding spot’s thin walls. Barely a breath left him as he hit the wall. 

Petra leaned in before he could snap out some sarcastic comment or whatever. Her lips touched his in a second, soft but firm, pressing against his. He stiffened beneath her, or at least his body did. His lips seemed to relax under her touch. His eyes widened for a moment and then his lips lowered. He breathed out, moving his lips against hers with no effort to shove her off. Instead his hands, which had let his own blaster dangle between them, found her shoulders and clutched onto them. 

Seconds later, his lips began to move against hers. He was kissing her back! Euphoria and victory danced together in Petra’s chest as she leaned into Levi, feeling his hands move to the back of her head and her lower back. The sounds of hurried footsteps and blaster fire disappeared under the heavy drumming of her own heartbeat against her ribcage. 

His hand on her lower back moved to her right hip so that his arm rested at her back. His fingers on her head began to stroke her hair and Petra hummed into the kiss quietly. 

He held her like she was precious. Like they were in a real war zone right now and he just had to keep her safe. He stepped forward and, for a moment, Petra expected to be pushed off. Instead he turned them so it was her with her back to a wall and it was Levi’s body protecting hers. She gasped a little and pulled away only for his hand on her head to move to cup her cheek instead. She lifted her soft amber eyes to his and began to smile up at him. He brought a finger up to touch her lips. 

Behind Levi, a figure rushed past their hiding spot, apparently too intent on where they were running to or from to notice two hits they could have landed just not. But even so, right now Petra wasn’t concerned about hits or scores or hiding. Her thoughts lingered on the feel of Levi’s mouth on hers and how much she wanted to feel it again. 

She reached her hand up to cup his cheek and jaw, pulling his face back towards hers again. He leaned in a little and they were kissing again and everything was sweet and simple. The world beyond them blurred into the darkness they hid in and Petra’s hands held his sides, their guns pressed against each other in a clatter of plastic. 

The sound snapped Levi out of the kiss and for a moment he appeared dazed, looking into Petra’s eyes and then down at the guns. The remembrance of where they were seemed to hit them at once. Petra glanced up at the scoreboard and then the time above it. 

35:27

Nifa’s team score was 60 points higher than theirs. Petra remembered that she was supposed to be the captain of this team after all. 

Levi’s hands gently moved to cover hers, his eyes staring into hers for a moment. “We need to-”

“-get back to the game,” Petra finished for him. He stepped back from her and regret filled her chest at the absence of him. However, she stamped it out with the reminder that their teammates needed them and 35 minutes was not really a lot of time to unpack what had just happened and still try and win the game. 

Levi nodded and picked up his gun. “Ready?”

Her head was still in a daze but Petra concentrated on the part that was still thinking logically. “You go one way, I’ll go the other,” she said. Already, Levi moving away was forcing her mind to clear which could only be good for their team in the long run. But they would talk about this. They had to. 

The pair of them returned to the game quickly, racing through the arena and making use of obstacles and hiding places to defend themselves and launch sneak attacks. 

The scores for both teams continued to fluctuate with each team taking the lead at different points. Hange’s amused reactions were so loud that most people had a good idea of where they were. Occasionally Nanaba would cuss out either Miche or Erwin. At one point Moblit was chasing Hange down accusing them of being a maniac. Petra and Erwin chased down Nifa and Hange until Nanaba and Moblit arrived as back up. Levi took the least amount of hits and his record of hitting his targets before they could respond to his presence helped him to continue this streak. Nifa and Hange managed to ambush Miche until Levi arrived to balance things out. 

He and Petra bumped into each other only a few more times during the rest of the game. He placed a hand on her back to slip past her and, for a second, she was distracted by the tingling sensation that flowed through her. She barely managed to snap herself out of it enough to dodge Moblit’s next shot. 

Those 35 minutes flew by and with a final shot by Miche to Hange, the game was claimed by Team Petra by 10 points. 

Sometime between removing the equipment and heading for the exit, Hange slumped sleepily against the wall. There was laughter all around as Erwin lifted them into his arms and carried them out of the room. “The perils of having a big bowl of sugar for breakfast,” he remarked with a smile as Nanaba held the door open for him. Chatter lowered in volume for the sleeping Hange’s sake as the group made for the doorway. Replays of the best and worst shots were followed by ribbing about tactics and sneak attacks. 

Levi and Petra hung back from the rest of them and the dissection of the mask. They walked in silence throughout the building and across a fair stretch of the car park. 

Petra looked over at Levi with a thoughtful expression. Her lips parted as she tried to summon up something good to say in this situation but then remembered the audience of whoever was going to be in the car with them. She lowered her gaze and began to play with her fingers. Nerves crawled all over her body. This wasn’t something she wanted to sleep on or ignore until the next time they saw each other. 

Meanwhile Levi was staring ahead of him, mostly anyway. In the corner of his eye, he could see that Petra was fidgeting. He could feel unease creeping around inside him as his thoughts were dragged back to that moment in the arena - the pleasant pressure of Petra’s lips on his, twice. The way she’d held onto him. The way she looked at him. It was like she was staring into his soul and that should have been something of a red flag. It was troublesome to have someone know you so intimately wasn’t it? That’s what his childhood self and his teenage self were screaming. But something stronger and deeper inside him was saying something else. It said that Petra was different. 

Up ahead, Hange was being laid across Moblit and Nifa’s legs in the back of their car while Miche took the wheel with Nanaba next to him. Erwin turned to Levi and Petra. 

“I’ll drop you two off.” His eyes looked between the two of them, his expression unreadable. If he detected anything, he made no comment about it. Levi simply nodded and Petra murmured a quiet thank you as they both climbed into the car with Erwin. 

It was a long and mostly quiet half-hour journey back to the neighbourhood where both Levi and Petra lived. As Erwin began to pull onto a street several blocks from their apartment complex, Petra leaned in and asked him to stop. 

“We’ll be fine from here, Erwin. Thank you so much,” she insisted as Erwin slowed to a stop. 

Erwin smiled at her then at Levi. There was knowing gleam that Levi didn’t entirely like. “Okay if you’re sure. I’ll see you both soon.”

“Sure,” Levi said as he followed Petra out of the car. They waited for Erwin to drive off and Petra slowly began to walk with Levi moving quietly alongside her as she did.

“I thought we should talk about before,” Petra admitted, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t want this hanging over us and I just want to be honest.”

Levi fought back the emotions that were trying to show on his face. She regrets it. She thinks it was a mistake. His brain began to ramble. She’s trying to let me down gently. Well, let’s just stop that right here, shall we? Sourness flooded him. He should have pushed her off not allowed himself to wonder. This was a stupid fucking mistake. “Then just say it,” Levi shrugged, his tone hard and he hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. Get it over with. 

Petra faltered, stopping immediately and staring at him. “You- you knew?” she asked quietly. 

Levi stopped a few paces ahead of her, his tired eyes looking back into her pretty ones. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious,” he told her. 

Pink blossomed in her cheeks and spread over her face rapidly. “I…” she murmured as her brow pinched in annoyance, “I thought I was hiding it pretty well.”

“Well it’s crystal clear now.” 

Petra bit down on her lip. “So… I guess you don’t… I mean…” she huffed in impatience at herself. “Is this you making your point without actually saying the words? Cos I kinda need to hear you say it, Levi. I can take it. I’m an adult. You don’t need to soft-soap me on this.”

Levi fully turned to face her, unhooking his thumbs and lowering his hands by his sides. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His brows lifted and some of the sharpness of his frown softened. “You’re the one stumbling over telling me.”

Petra looked baffled. “Eh?”

Levi lost patience with this little back-and-forth. “You’re trying to tell me that you regret the kiss. Don’t pussyfoot around it, Petra.”

“I don’t regret the kiss,” Petra answered immediately, silencing Levi. “If anything I regret not kissing you sooner,” she added, her hands grasping her elbows. Caution was clear in her eyes but her lips pursed with determination. This conversation had to happen one way or another.

It was Levi’s turn to wear confusion all over his face. “But you like Hange.” As he said the words, his mind was already flashing through images of the two of them together and the way it had made his stomach burn to watch that easy affection, to feel resentment for the fact that that affection wasn’t being displayed to him. He had tried to logic his way out of such thoughts and when that didn’t work, burial was always something he had made a half-decent job of. Now he was stood here being told that he’d gotten it wrong?

“I love Hange,” Petra agreed, “as a friend.” She began to smile again although he could see some unease gathering in those perfect amber eyes of hers.

Levi pursed his lips. A feeling of utter stupidity began to weigh down on him. He should have considered that this was just an affectionate thing between Petra and Hange. Hange was always hanging off their friends and hugs were their favourite way of greeting. He couldn’t remember them ever flirting with any of them though. Well, perhaps Erwin and Moblit but honestly those felt more like play than anything else. Of course, clearly his detection for such things wasn’t as good as it could be so perhaps he was just wrong about that too.

“Does Hange know that?” The question was not the thing Levi had intended to ask and yet it slipped out far easier than anything else he was thinking about asking. 

Petra lifted her shoulders a little then lowered them as her smile widened. “If it comes up, I’ll put them straight.” She stepped closer to Levi. “I’m more interested in you… how you feel about me,” she confessed. “I’ve liked you a lot since the day we met at your mother’s garden party. Since we spent the whole afternoon talking,” she recollected with a reminiscent smile. 

“The afternoon that you mostly spent talking,” Levi retorted although his lips twitched into a smile. 

“You could have walked away. You’ve never been shy of doing that before,” Petra began to grin. 

“I never said I was bored listening to you.”

Petra shifted from one foot to another, tilting her head with a bolder smile. “You let me kiss you again.”

“I never said I didn’t like you kissing me, either.” Levi argued. 

“I guess there’s a lot that you’ve never said,” Petra mused, stepping even closer now, lowering her arms so they were almost chest to chest. “I’d much rather listen to what you do have to say,” she told him. “Because I don’t make a habit of crossing that line and I just really need to know if there’s something there for you too or… if I just need to forget this.”

Levi lifted his hand and inched his fingers towards her face until they slid over her smooth, round cheek. The words he wanted to say but had struggled with for so long rose to his throat as if summoned by some spell-caster. He leaned in a little until their noses were touching. “I care about you, Petra,” he told her. “You’re not just my friend.”

Petra exhaled softly and her hands lifted to hold onto his hips. “So… you…?”

Levi’s smile turned teasing. “Do you want me to spell it out for you?” and with that question, he leaned down to kiss her lips. 

She smiled into it, and once again the world melted into the blazing golden light of sunset and the blurry shapes of an empty, quiet street.