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poeghoul · 6 months

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hard times

in which harry is grumpy and mean and has a scary job

word count: 3,315 warnings: angst, semi-mafia!harry, a single mention of drugs, semi-gun violence, harassment. do not read if opposed to any of the topics mentioned. authors note: i haven’t written in years so this may be bad. inspired by "western nights" by ethel cain.

Harry met Niall at a small diner called The Vinyl booth at 9:37pm, an oddly specific time Niall gave to him, Harry thought. Niall had been interested in forming a connection with Harry, seeing as he’s the biggest drug supplier in all of northern California. Niall loved The Vinyl Booth; he loved taking his girls there every other Sunday after church. It was a warm, cozy diner, with checkered flooring and a jukebox that only worked if you kicked it in the right spot.

“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, excited to finally be meeting with him after hearing about him for so long. Harry gave him a curt nod as Niall put his hand out for him. Harry took his and grunted as Niall brought him in for a weird semi hug that men do. “Good to finally meet ya,” Niall smiled and held the door open for him, a little bell attached to the handle sounded. Harry walked in first as Niall followed behind and stood while they waited for someone to seat them.

“Niall? What are you doing here so late?” A girl approached the two men, smiling at Niall before grabbing two menus.

“Y/n!” Niall exclaimed, returning an even bigger smile than she had initially sent him, “just needed a little late night treat.”

“Of course you did, come on,” she led the two to a corner booth, “I’ll be back with some coffee.” She smiled at the two and Harry noticed she hadn’t greeted him or even made eye contact with him once, which infuriated him; he was used to everyone showing him the respect he swears he deserves.

She walked back with two small gray ceramic mugs in her hands before turning again to get the coffee pot (Harry assumed they hadn’t brewed a fresh batch in some hours, disgusting him even more than he already was with the sticky menu he was holding). She went to pour some into Nialls mug before Harry decided to speak up.

“When was that brewed?” Y/n looked up as she stopped pouring the coffee.

“Um,” she paused, trying to remember when she last even touched the pot, “maybe around 5,” she shrugged, phrasing it more as a question than a statement.

Harry scoffed, “and you expect us to be okay with drinking that?” he practically shouted at the girl; she was taken aback, furrowing her brows and cocking her head to the side. “Get him a new mug and brew a fresh batch, we’re not drinking coffee that’s been sitting out for nearly five hours.” he spat. Niall went to speak up and Harry shot him the deadliest glare the man had ever seen, effectively shutting Niall up.

“I’ll get on it,” she murmured as she bowed her head, picked up Nialls mug and spun on her heel, heading towards the sink to dump out the hour's old coffee.

“You didn’t have to shout at her, Harry,” Niall scolded the man like he was a four year old. Harry just looked at him and shook his head, going to speak up before deciding against it.

The bell on the door rang. It was one of his security guards; he had told both (one of them planning on coming in three before 10pm, the time they closed) to observe the interaction between the two men; one to scope out Niall, and two to make sure Harry made it out alive. With what Harry did, not making it out of the diner was an option. The burly man sat down in a booth facing Harry directly.

Y/n was at the coffee pot, pouring in new coffee grinds and pressing at the brewing options, though there couldn’t have been more than one option with how old the machine was. She looked up as the man sat down, a puzzled look taking over her features; Harry couldn’t stop staring.

Y/n approached him, “Hi,” she smiled at him, “I’m y/n I’ll be taking care of you today, can I start you off with some coffee? I’m brewing some right now so it’ll be the freshest coffee of your life,” she joked with him, purposefully being loud enough for Harry to hear; he just narrowed his eyes at her and, instead of gazing at her, he began glaring. The man just nodded. She gave a half smile before walking back to where the two men were sat, pulling out a small notepad and pen from her apron. “Oki doki, Niall I know what you want already,” she smiled at him, a dimple forming in her cheek. She looked at Harry, “how about you? Have enough time to look the menu over?” He hadn’t even opened it.

“No,” he said simply. Her smile faded, a puzzled look taking over her features.

“Oh, well, do you have any questions?” She tucked her pen and notepad into a small pocket on the black apron that was folded and tied around her waist.

“No,” he replied, a bitter tone, “I would like some fresh coffee though, if you’re capable,” he tried his hardest to contain his smirk.

If y/n didn’t care about her job, she’d bark at him. If y/n didn’t care about the owners and how close she had gotten to them, she would’ve taken her pen from her apron and jammed it in his hand with all her might. And if y/n had the guts to either of those, she would. She cares, though, far too much to do either of those; so instead, she smiled and prayed that her eye wouldn’t start twitching.

“Of course, sir,” she turned and rolled her eyes, mimicking him under her breath. Harry heard her, but didn’t say anything. She grabbed another mug and the coffee pot, almost burning her knuckles in the process. She placed Nialls mug before him and poured into his new one, making sure to leave room for creamer. “Room for cream?” She made eye contact with Harry. He shook his head, humming a ‘no’. She tried her best to fill it to where it would spill on him if he picked it up too quickly, and made her way to the only other patron in the small diner. The bell on the door rang again, but it wasn’t who Harry was expecting.

Y/n looked up at the character who walked into and watched as he walked past her and sat at the counter. Nobody ever came in this late, three of them looked scary and they were all men. She felt her heart skip some beats in the worst way. Thankfully, two of the cooks were here, but they were already upset with her for seating guests twenty something minutes before closing.

She walked behind the counter, setting the pot down on the heater, and walked to the man at the counter. She noticed his red ringed, dark brown eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n,” she started her script, “I’ll be taking care of you tonight, what can I get ya started with?” She grabbed her notepad and pen, again, hoping he knew what he wanted to eat so she’d have an excuse to go into the back, wanting to be with the men she’d known for some time, rather than three suspicious men and Niall (who, according to her, was far too gentle to hurt a fly).

He smiled at her; it made her stomach curl. “Orange juice, please, and a mixed cheese omelette.” She scribbled in her notepad, muttering a ‘got it’ before scrambling to the back to put the order in.

“So,” Niall began, causing Harry to finally look away from the door the girl had basically run through. “I know you didn’t agree to meeting me here for the chorizo and eggs plate,” he joked at Harry. He gave a curt nod. Niall cleared his throat. “I know you have a busy schedule, so I’ll get right to it,” the bell on the door sounded again. Three minutes before closing, right on time. His other bodyguard walked past the two and sat at another end of the counter. Y/n peaked her head through the swinging door, looking around before setting her eyes on the last patron to walk in. She sighed before walking out and giving him her whole spiel.

“Coffee, please,” the man smiled at her. She was grateful for someone, other than Niall, to show her some kindness in a non creepy way. She turned to grab another mug and the pot of coffee and made her way back to him.

“Long night?” she asked him while pouring into his mug. He nodded and smiled at her, offering her a thank you. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest.

Niall continued to speak to him, though Harry tuned him out, granting him responses in the form of grunts. He watched the girl bring out the orange juice for the boy at the counter before going into the back and returning with a bowl of prepackaged creamers. “Sorry, Niall, the creamers completely slipped my mind.”

“Not a big deal, y/n, I knew you’d get around to it,” he reached into the bowl, grabbing a package and ripping it open to pour into his coffee. He did that four more times, turning the near black brown to a light, almost white shade.

She looked at Harry, his eyes already on her, “finally decided?” he shook his head. She just stared, no emotion on her face.

“Just get him the same thing as me, please” Niall awkwardly cut in. Y/n’s gaze softened, looking at him and smiled, before nodding and walking off. Harry, still, couldn’t stop staring; watching how she walked and moved and how she reacted to every word said to her. He also noticed how the boy at the counter did the same. Niall continued to talk at him about a deal he was wishing to make. Something about expanding Harry’s territory and getting a small cut. From what Harry heard, it wasn’t a bad proposal.

+++

“Thanks, again, for meeting with me, Harry” Niall shook his hand, a beaming smile plastered on his face. Harry offered him a pursed smile in return. “Get home safe.” Harry nodded, watching as Niall turned to walk to his car.

Harry turned to his, getting in the backseat, greeted by his bodyguard, Daniel, who’d entered the restaurant earlier. They sat in silence as they waited for the final of the two men, Jax, to return to the car. Harry had sent him a message halfway through their meal, asking (more like demanding) him to stay in the diner until the skeptical character had left; he left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth and he just wanted to ensure the safety of the girl he was fascinated by.

He waited. And waited. Bit at his nails, ran his hands through his hair, groaned many times and waited even more.

Time seemed to go by so slowly. He stared into the window, watching the three of them closely. His left leg was bouncing up and down, an unfamiliar sense of anxiety coursing through him. Huffing through his nose, he ran his hand through his hair. He hated how he was feeling, and judging by her body language, she was feeling similarly.

Y/n stood with the coffee pot, having had to make another batch as the group of men continued to order more and more cups throughout the night, waiting for the two men to leave so she could crawl into bed. She had been here close to eleven hours now, and was growing anxious being practically trapped in a room with two strange men she had never seen, especially since the two cooks had left for the night (she was too scared to ask them to stay, not wanting to be a bother but she desperately regrets that now).

The bigger man of the two sat glaring at the smaller one, watching his every move. Y/n could tell he was growing uncomfortable with harsh eyes on him at all times; it made her feel safer, though.

The small one offered her a small smile, asking for the check silently. She felt a wave of relief to soon have him out of her hair. She couldn’t wait to leave; she had already wiped down all the tables, swept, asked the two men if they’d be paying cash or card, and when they both replied with card, she closed out the cash drawer on the register. She was eager, practically vibrating. Nothing planned for the night, she just couldn’t wait to step outside into the fresh air, feeling suffocated in the small space of the diner.

She handed the small receipt to him and he immediately offered her his card, making sure to graze her hand with his. She noted how cold and pale it was. A small ‘thank you’ before a pursed smile graced her features. She ran his card through the machine, printed a receipt and handed the two over. He smiled at her, leaving a ten on the counter before walking out.

Outside, Harry noted the movement inside the diner, watching the weird man walk out of the restaurant and around the corner to where, he assumed, was a back alley. Jax walked out shortly after, y/n walking to the door behind him to lock it before heading to the back, but he hesitated to leave, still. The lights shut off shortly after. He couldn’t make out much more.

The door opened and, though he could barely see her silhouette, he could tell she was locking the door behind her. She stood in front of the diner, typing away at her phone. He groaned at how oblivious she was to her surroundings. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a head peeking around a corner. He unlocked his door, prepared to jump to her defense at any given moment. The man who peeked around the corner fully emerged and walked up behind y/n, his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket. He said something to her, Harry couldn’t hear what, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around with wide eyes and slipped her phone in her back pocket.

“Oh,” she gasped, “hey, did you leave anything inside?”

He grinned at her, “no, actually was just wondering what you were up to after this.” she gulped.

“Um,” she tried to think of something, anything, to lie about, but blanked. “I’m just, uh, gonna hang out with my friends,” she rushed out. His grin turned into a smirk.

“You sure?” She nodded. His smirk vanished. “You’re lying.” she shook her head, a small ‘I’m not’ escaping her lips. “Yes, you are,” he stepped closer to her, “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” she backed up, her breathing picking up. He stepped even closer.

“Now you’re lying again,” he glared down at her, “must I teach you what happens to liars?” Her eyes began to well with tears. A car door slammed. A gun pressed against the boy's temple. His eyes widened.

“Touch her and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” Harry snarled, pressing the gun even harder against him.

“I-I wasn’t, I swear, I swear,” he barely made out. Tears began pouring out of y/n’s eyes.

“Okay, so then tell me what you were gonna do, hm,” with his free hand, Harry grabbed y/n, pulling her behind him. She hid her face in his back and gripped his shirt in both hands, trying to focus on controlling her breathing.

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear,” he cried out.

“You swear, hm?” he let out a breathy laugh, “Why’d you wait for her, hm? Why’d you hide back there?” The boy’s mouth just opened and closed; Harry held back a laugh. “Say something, don’t be shy. You weren’t a minute ago.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right now if you let me, I swear, I promise!” He began to sob.

Harry just pressed harder, “that’s not what I asked, though, is it?” The boy shook his head as best as he could, “then answer my questions.”

“I just, I wanted to see her.”

Harry laughed, “so you wanted to see her, and you couldn't have done it in a normal manner? Couldn’t have asked to hang out rather than hiding in a fucking alley waiting for her when you knew she’d be most vulnerable, fucking scum,” he spat out, inching his face closer to his.

He sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”

Harry moved the gun from his temple, but not before he pressed a little bit harder. “Get in the car,” he muttered, keeping the gun pointed at him and ushering y/n with his back towards the backseat of a black Range Rover. She opened the door and jumped in before Harry did the same. He put the gun in his holster, secured under his jacket. He looked to y/n, who was shaking in the middle seat. “You okay?” She nodded, her face down, staring at her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I’m sorry,” Harry apologized to her, anger surged through his veins and he wished he could get out and have the opportunity to pull the trigger pointed to the back of the boy's head. The car started and pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll take you home, I’ll send someone to stay in the general area for your safety,” she looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Okay.”

“Can you give me an address, please,” he handed the phone to her, with trembling hands she took it and typed out her address. It was a six minute walk. “How were you planning to get home?” she handed back the phone.

“I walk.”

“For every shift?” she nodded. “I don’t like that,” he admitted.

“It’s only, like, five minutes,” she shrugged, still not making eye contact.

“Still don’t like it,” he ran his hands through his hair, sighing. She picked at her nails, chewing on her bottom lip.

The drive was short, two right turns and they arrived at her apartment complex. Harry opened the door and helped her out, following her up the stairs, standing close behind her as she unlocked the door.

“It’s a little messy, sorry,” she opened the door and led him in. He stood in the entryway, taking in the details of the decorations that filled the small space (it was a small studio apartment, big enough for Y/n, but far too small for Harry). Her bed wasn’t made, with halloween sheets and decorative pillows on the floor next to the bed, and the only chair in the apartment was covered in laundry.

“It’s not bad,” he looked down at her while she gazed at him. Harry loved the way she looked at him and hated that he loved it.

“Thank you for taking me home and ya know,” she smiled at him. He nodded.

“I’ll send someone to take you to work and bring you home for the next few days, need to make sure you’re safe,” he took a deep breath in, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to graze her cheek, resting it as he caressed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes she couldn’t make out. His gaze shifted to her lips, his hand stilled and she tilted her head up in the slightest.

His expression changed, he removed his hand, and he stepped back. “You’ll know when they’re here. Goodnight,” and with that, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Her cheek felt cold.

She missed his touch.

And that would be all she thought about for the rest of the night.

troubles always gonna find you baby, but so will i.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fics #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry #harry styles fiction #Ethel cain

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patrophthia · 8 months

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Hi! I love your writing and so I was wondering if I could request something with Theo Nott based on the song The Party by Maisie Peters maybe? It's ok if you're not interested. Thank you <333

thank you for liking my writing!!! i’ve never actually heard of this song so thank u for introducing me to this banger it’s so cuteeee (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

you’re my favorite comic | theo n.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, established relationships!! childhood friends to lovers, reader refers to slytherins as the enemy, happy couple stuff, there’s scorpius too

part of my 1k celebration event !

There’s a few way Theodore remembers you, all of which seems to be memories of when he decided he felt something for you.

Like, for example, when you were four, sitting down besides him with your ankles in your laps, heart in your hands with your eyes focused on him as he read you a story you couldn’t comprehend.

He’s four too but he’s a cool four year old —this is what he told himself, seeing as he was the only four year old he knew who could read— who decided then that you were a friend, and that you’d always be his friend until he’s all old and wrinkly, and you pruning as you listened to him read you your new favorite book —he could only hoped you never learn how to read.

He remembers you well when you’re both sixteen, standing under the quidditch pitch as you scowl at Malfoy a few feet above you. “I can’t believe you’re with the enemy.”

And Theodore stifles a laugh, forever finding it amusing how his best friend (Draco Malfoy), and his child hood best friend (also known as someone he’s been fancying for the longest time) were both quidditch captain for the opposing team. “Technically you’re the enemy.”

“Well you better stop fraternizing with the enemy then,” you snickered, eyeing the Slytherins practicing from below. “You’re going to look real bad when Malfoy finds out.”

“Finds out what? That we’re friends?” He retorts uninterestedly.

“No,” you replied, “that you’re in love with me.” You say it so causally that he chokes, Theodore actually chokes up on his spit that you have to run a calming hand down his back. “Don’t worry about it. I’m in love with you too. Have you ever wondered why I’ve turned down every person who’s asked me out?”

Theodore composes himself then. “I just thought you weren’t interested.”

“I wasn’t interested because they weren’t you,” you say, pulling out your wand and handing it over to him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with the enemy.”

And as you leave —as if you didn’t just admit that you’ve known that he’s loved you this entire time— with your wand in his hand, Theodore decides you’re as unpredictable as they come; and that if you were a cartoon, you’d always be his favorite comic.

And he remembers —well, promise to remember you now, with a hand pressed against the small of your back and the Malfoys a few feet behind the two of you; thanking you for coming to their small dinner party and being the last one to leave by helping them clean up, did Theodore decide that he wants to marry you.

You’re sat at the passenger seat, fussing over your hair through the tiny mirror; a small pout is prominent as you sigh. “I can’t believe you let me go out looking like this.”

Theodore spares a glance at you, not spotting a single thing wrong with you. “Like what?”

“My hair is a mess, Theo.”

To him, you’re stressing out over nothing. But he loves you, and he knows you well enough to understands that it’s not like that for you. So he tries his hardest to reassure as best as he could. “Your hair looks fine. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all night, baby. Don’t be so harsh on yourself.”

You’re quiet for a second, before: “so you think baby Scorpius is ugly?”

Theodore is baffled, bewildered by you as he struggles to come up with a respond. “That’s not what I said.”

“But if I’m the most beautiful thing then you think Scorpius is not as good looking then?”

“Scorpius is a baby,” Theodore sighs. “He looks like a sack of potatoes.”

And when Theodore couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed by your dramatic scandalized gasp at his words; he knew he was in it for the long run.

#theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #🧳: my writing #🍰: 1k with patro!

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boneblushed · 11 months

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Untouchable

part 1 | part 2

synopsis it is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

wc 2K

Rafe Cameron likes to do this thing where he pretends that he's hopelessly in love with you.

Every morning, when you walk past him in the Academy carpark, he says, “Good morning, sweetheart.” Easy on the morning, rolling the sweet over his tongue so heart sounds thick as brown molasses. He always has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the emblem on his breast-pocket hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Sometimes you humour him. Often you avoid acknowledging him altogether.

He has a tendency to call you every pretty noun under the sun except your actual name. Though he has a certain predilection for sweetheart, he’ll always follow up your carpark rendezvous—if you could even call it that—with a, “Wait up, beautiful!” Gorgeous if you’re particularly unlucky. You’re pretty sure he does this because it’s more convenient than remembering your name; that, or he’s covering his ass in case he mixes you up with the other girls on his roster.

“C’mon,” he adds, catching you up with ease, “think you can give me a smile today, birdie?”

That’s a new one. You frown hard, conveying your disapproval at being branded by yet another nickname against your will.

“Think you can show me you deserve it, Cameron?”

Rafe slaps his hand against his chest, faux-affronted. “Oof, I’m wounded.” He grins fondly. “You know that it’s bad luck to ice out the Head Boy on the first day, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” you mutter grimly, quickening your pace in an attempt to create some distance from him. It’s a futile attempt at hostility; he’s heading to the same handsome office that you are, home to the Academy’s once imposing headmaster.

He’s gotten soft over the years. It’s the only explanation, really, for why he’s chosen such a diametrically opposed duo to be the Head Boy and Girl respectively. Where you’re serious, unsmiling, easy on the eyes and hard on the ego, Rafe Cameron is this cocky, deceptively charming wall of solid muscle. He’s attractive in that way that’s made him every girl’s default love interest, and even worse, he enjoys the attention as much as you absolutely hate it.

“Remind you?” Rafe echoes, feigning bemusement. “Of what? That we’re partners now, partner?”

You force a breath of air out through your nose, halting in your tracks and turning to face him. He doesn’t think you look nearly as formidable as you want to, especially with that sweet, little furrow between your eyebrows. He tries to look earnest, as if proving his maturity is going to make you hate him any less than you do.

He’s to blame for the animosity, of course — callow, sophomore year him who called you “seriously fucking hot” in the boy’s locker room, and then in the gym, within earshot, added, “shame she’s such a frigid bitch, huh?” He didn’t mean it, and he was very clearly wounded; if you could’ve seen his face as he’d said it, maybe the cracks in his armour of indifference would’ve been more obvious. Maybe you would’ve realised he was deflecting from the fact that your rejection had really hurt him.

But then again, maybe you wouldn’t have. Because in what world was yelling “Go out with me?”—crudely, callously, you might add—from across the classroom meant to be taken for real? You’d assumed that sophomore year him was making fun of you. When you said no, he assumed that sophomore year you just wasn’t interested.

Fast forward two years, to now, it’s clear that neither of those assumptions were wholly true. You walk past the front reception and toward the headmaster’s office in tandem, halting just short of his closed door, a polished knocker hanging directly above eye-level.

As you reach up and press it against the smooth mahogany, you send him a wayward glance. “Just because we have to work together this year,” you say evenly, “doesn’t mean we have to be friends. Alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, sending you a mock salute.

This just makes you frown harder than before, as if that’s fucking possible. He’s going to get a smile out of you if it fucking kills him. “I mean it, Cameron.” You let go of the knocker to punch your forefinger into his chest, eyes narrowed sternly. “No more sweetheart, beautiful, gorgeous, honey, whatever. If there’s one thing I deserve, as your,” you raise your fingers in air-quotes, “‘partner’, it’s a bit of respect. That clear?”

He’s never once called you honey. He raises his eyebrows. “Darling?”

You let out this sigh that’s more disappointment than frustration, like you didn’t want to deal with this, like you almost expected more from him. It makes his mouth go dry. “You know what?” you say, shaking your head defeatedly. “Never mind. I thought... I don't know, I thought that if Cromwell’d chosen you to be the Head Boy, maybe you’d done some growing up since sophomore year. But clearly he's getting old, because —”

“Who’s getting old?” A pleasant voice interrupts, the mahogany door in front of you jolting open abruptly. “Miss Y/L/N,” Headmaster Cromwell adds, mock-austere. “I sure hope you aren’t talking about me.”

“Headmaster Cromwell,” you answer, eyes widening sheepishly. “I didn’t mean —”

“She was talking about me, Crom-dog,” Rafe pipes up, throwing him arm around your shoulder genially. When he pulls you into his side, the smell of his vetiver and musk cologne grows ever present. “Us. How we’re no longer the scrawny little freshmen we were when we first met you.”

He pauses, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “Women, am I right? Always so sentimental.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, shaking him off in a hurry. “Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees with a grin, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the price you pay for a uniform blouse, he privately thinks it should be made of thicker fabric. He can still feel your soft skin pressing into all his finger calluses. “You wanted to see us, sir?”

He nods significantly, beckoning the two of you into his office. “Yes, yes, come in,” he says, taking a seat in his brown leather chair, the headrest cracking with age. “First day of senior year, eh? How are the two of you feeling?”

“Apprehensive,” you say, sending Rafe a glare.

He meets your gaze with something akin to amusement, his blue eyes full of mirth. “Sentimental.”

“Ah.” Cromwell raises his eyebrows, regarding the pair of you with interest. “And you’ll be conveying these emotions at your address this Friday, I imagine?”

Your head whips back to his desk, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “Oh. Um —”

“Because of course,” he adds, clasping his hands together on his desk, “the start of year speech isn’t just tradition, it’s a collaborative effort. As head students, leading the fortnightly school assemblies is going to be one of your biggest responsibilities.”

“Right,” you agree, nodding vigorously. “I assure you, Headmaster Cromwell, it’s all under control.”

Rafe turns to face you, surprised. “It is?”

“Of course it is, Cameron,” you answer tiredly, not bothering to meet his gaze.

Cromwell frowns. “A collaborative effort, Miss Y/L/N.”

You swallow a sigh, plastering on a smile before turning in tandem and nodding. Fake though it may be, being on the receiving end of one of your smiles makes Rafe unusually pleased. He grins back handsomely, his head cocked toward you in a way that accents his stubbled jawline.

“All I’m saying is,” you say carefully, the smile becoming more gritted teeth than anything remotely amicable, “I’ve… made a start on it. I know that you’ve got football trials to organise, so I thought —”

“Successfully delegated,” Rafe interjects. “Got Ollie organising them this year.” He pauses, leaning toward you and clearing his throat. “You know… to free up time for this partnership.”

“Excellent!” Cromwell exclaims before you’re able to protest, clapping his hands together approvingly. “Already taking initiative. Excellent, excellent…”

He reaches for the hefty stack of papers to his left, plucking off the two forms at the top of the pile. “Here,” he says, handing one to each of you. “A suggested programme for your first meeting with this year’s prefects.”

You accept it with a nod, scanning over the template before folding it once, twice, careful. Beside you, Rafe throws his into his bag callously, threatening a migraine.

“As you know, alongside the school assemblies, you’ll be in charge of timetabling prefect duties and maintaining order. Of course, we’ll meet every fortnight or so so I can check in — ensure everything’s running as smoothly as possible.” He pauses here, looking between you through assessing grey eyes. “Being the face of this institution is a massive undertaking, you two. You’re responsible for more than just the student body… you’re responsible for Kildare Academy’s legacy.” Another pause. “It can be quite the burden. It’s important that you trust each other… know that you can rely on one another.”

You clear your throat gauchely. Rafe feels this strange jolt in his chest as Cromwell’s words wash over him.

You’re saved the awkwardness of having to respectfully disagree with him by the peal of the bell, signalling the start of first period. Cromwell springs up and nods in dismissal, the lapels of his suit jacket quivering like jowls. “Alright then!” He exclaims, smiling jovially. “I look forward to hearing your address this Friday!”

You return his smile, albeit reluctantly, avoiding eye contact with Rafe as you turn around and exit. Though you’re determined to make it to class without having to engage in any more conversation, it appears Rafe Cameron’s more determined to do the opposite.

Scratch unnecessary though. He’s pretty sure every precious second that he’s trying for more receiving-end smile is another that shows him time is of the essence.

“What did you reckon?” He asks, messing with his dirty-blonde locks absentmindedly.

The side of his elbow brushes your blouse, and you begin to walk faster, incensed by his closeness. Despite this, he refuses to back down, “Think it’s true? Him retiring this year? Cause shit, it’d explain all that crap about responsibility and legacy.”

You frown at your feet and continue to soldier forward. Rafe tries again, “Remember when Jake was head boy? Kelce’s older brother? Swear to God he didn’t get speeches like that from Crommy… I mean, shit, he was doing all this and organising football practice, not to mention all the parties he—”

“Look,” you interrupt abruptly, letting out a tired sigh. “Yeah, whatever, I won’t tell Cromwell, alright? As long as you just… just do everything you’re scheduled to do.”

Rafe turns toward you, frowning bemusedly. “Huh?”

“That’s what you’re getting at, right?” You ask impatiently, because you’re late and the second bell is about to ring and you really don’t have time for this, not with Rafe Cameron. “Doing the bare minimum just like Jake Smith did? Because yeah, whatever, that’s fine — in fact, I’d almost prefer it to trying to work together.”

Rafe draws back slightly, regarding you for a moment. “Huh.” A pause. “You think I don’t deserve it.”

You balk at his expression, something dejected behind blue irises. “Well, I,” you hesitate, “no. I just… I don’t want to work with someone who doesn’t consider this a priority.”

“You’re a priority to me,” he says, referring to the guy sophomore year you had once rejected.

“Not me,” you mutter irritatedly, cheeks warming. “Head student stuff. You know — all those things Jake Smith got away with not doing?”

“As I seem to recall,” Rafe replies matter-of-factly, unperturbed, “I’ve already delegated football trials to Ollie to free up time.”

“For the speech,” you say slowly, unsure.

For you. “For the speech,” Rafe affirms, looking down at you in this sincere way that makes your head hurt.

You swallow. “Alright then. We’ll do it Wednesday after school.”

Rafe grins triumphantly, nudging your chin with the hook of his forefinger. “Your place or mine, sweetheart?”

“Cameron,” you warn, ducking out of his reach with a frown.

“Sorry.” He nods faux-apologetically. “You prefer honey, yeah?”

“If you call me anything other than my name, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”

“In my sleep?” He asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “So you’ll be on my bed, huh? Knew it. Knew you had a secret thing for me.”

“School library, Cameron,” you say grimly, beginning to walk away. “4pm on Wednesday. Don’t be late.”

Rafe nods again, sending you a mock salute. “Oh don’t worry,” he calls after you. “I never keep a lady waiting.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction

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leonas-herbivore · 2 months

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Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Summary: A blooming romance between you and Leona gets cut short when you start having nightmares over the recent overblots. You don't know how you'll be able to move on from it when something unexpected happens.

MC is written in the second POV, gender neutral. 2644 word count

Hi! I'm bad at summaries and titles. But here's an angsty (maybe) fic for ya. Enjoy :)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

The murder of crows flying above, turning the blue sky into an inky abyss, would unnerve the person you used to be. You couldn’t remember when, but a numbness had crept into your heart. A numbness that took away most of the fear and most of the pain. A numbness… that took away most of your happiness, too. The ringing of the school bell drowned out the croaks and caws of the crows. Classes were over for the day.

You tucked your sandwich under your arm and quickened your pace. In a world like this one, you were defenseless. A non-magic person in a magical world. You knew some basic self-defense techniques and could escape a sticky situation. But against magic? As the saying goes, you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. The students here at Night Raven College weren’t bad people. Well, maybe.

Does controlling a crowd to secure victory by trampling an opposing team make someone bad? Would someone be a terrible person if they tricked others into indentured servitude? If someone used hypnosis to control and betray someone, would that person be evil? Of course, there was much more to it than that. You knew that.

But these weren’t hypothetical scenarios. These were real-life events. They happened. And recently, too. The headmage assured you that you were safe here at the school. He expressed how generous and kind he was to ensure your safety. His words left you with little comfort.

You finally reached your dorm and stumbled inside. With your back against the door, you breathed a sigh of relief. Ramshackle dorm, even though it was a bit dingy, provided a much-needed sense of comfort and relief. I’m safe here, you thought to yourself. A knock at the door made your sense of peace vanish instantly.

“Yuu? You in there?” a voice rang out. Ruggie! Your heart raced. His unique magic, Laugh with Me, allowed him to control people’s bodies like a puppeteer. But instead of puppets…

If he wanted, he could make you do whatever he wished. He could make you open this door, take your lunch, and steal your money. But he wouldn’t do something like that to you, would he? Would he?

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. Just give me a sec.” You took a deep breath. With your thoughts collected, you opened the door. Ruggie stood on the doorstep looking as casual and unbothered as ever.

“Um, did-did you need something?” You hated how timid you sounded. But you couldn’t help it. The idea of magic used to be so cool and, well, magical. But now that you’ve seen how ugly it could be, all the whimsy and wonder in magic no longer existed. Ruggie’s gray eyes betrayed no emotion as he looked you over.

“You’ve got a funny look on your face. Did something happen?” he asked. Did something happen? Ugh, the nerve. Yeah, a lot of things happened.

A shiver ran down your spine. The memories were still so vivid. Ruggie was Leona's vice dorm leader. Was he close by? Memories swirled in your mind. Leona and his overblot. An inky silhouette emerged from his body, a former shadow of himself. The ink spilled over him, threatening to swallow him whole. His rage, his pain, and his sadness all seemed to manifest into something truly horrifying. He was so big and strong; it was a miracle he was defeated. There were injuries but no casualties, thank the Great Seven.

After that, things returned to normal, and Leona seemed to change for the better. Sort of. He and Ruggie were back to being buds, not that there was any bad blood to begin with. But it was still a relief that they sorted things out.

You and Leona worked things out between the two of you, too. You grew closer and closer as friends until something unspoken began to bloom between you. Longing glances and knowing smiles became a common occurrence. Things were going well until-

“Uh, helloooo? Anybody home?” Ruggie waved his hand in front of your face.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I spaced out for a second there. But I’m fine. What’s up?”

“We’re having a barbecue later at Savanaclaw—Leona’s idea. I caught Grim after class, and he said he was going. Almost started drooling and everything. I was surprised you weren’t with him.”

You gave Ruggie a sheepish smile.ou skipped the last class of the day. Nothing wrong with being rebellious now and then. Technically, it wasn’t even a class. It was a boring seminar. You didn’t need to be there, especially since Leona AND Jamil were there. Facing two former overblot boys at once? No thanks.

“Thanks for the invite, but can I take a raincheck? I’m super busy with homework and stuff. You know how it is. But tell Leona I said thanks for the invite.” you forced a smile. You started to backpedal into the hallway. “Anyway, see you later. Bye!” You slammed the door shut before Ruggie could open his mouth again.

Back against the door, you closed your eyes and took slow, deep breaths. Ruggie was pretty smart, so he probably knew you were lying. Hopefully, he was smart enough to take the hint, too. You weren’t interested in stepping foot in Savanaclaw at the moment. Not after last time.

You unwrapped your sandwich and took a bite. There's nothing like a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich to help calm your nerves. The overblots were such haunting memories. But there was no point in dwelling on the past. What was done was done. The best thing for everyone would be to move on.

You weren’t alone either. You had friends that would help you in a time of need. Even good old Grimmy would come to the rescue if needed. You chuckled to yourself, imagining your friends as a rescue squad. Everything that could go wrong would probably happen. They would fight amongst themselves, deciding on a strategy for rescue. Grim would set things on fire. Deuce would summon a legion of cauldrons. They’re all thickheaded, but they were good guys. Things would work out in the end. You felt comforted thinking of your friends. Speaking of, where was Grim, anyway?

Ruggie said he ran into him after class. He should’ve been back by now. You shrugged. He would be fine. You yawned and rubbed your eyes. While you were waiting for him, a nap would be good. You stumbled to your bed and plopped onto it.

Another yawn escaped your mouth. All of these sleepless nights were catching up to you. Staring at the ceiling, you thought of Leona. It was kind of him to invite you to the dorm barbecue. If things were different, you would have loved to go. The two of you could’ve walked around together, holding hands. Maybe you could’ve found the courage to voice your feelings to him. Handsome Leona, I have a crush on you! Please be my boyfriend. I’ll be the Nap Queen to your Nap King, haha. Ugh. That is so cringe. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Would it be wild and passionate or gentle and soft?

For now, none of those things could happen. Your fear was getting the better of you. It was still painful to look at Leona, let alone be near him. He wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. You knew he wouldn’t. He liked you. At least, you thought he did… Your thoughts trailed off as their eyes closed.

A loud knock made them jolt upright. You rubbed your eyes. What time is it? You rubbed your eyes again and stumbled towards the door. The obnoxious knocking continued.

“Hang on! “I’m coming, I’m coming! Geez,” you grumbled. You reached the door and pulled it open. “What’s your- huh?”

Instead of the front yard to the Ramshackle dorm, an endless savanna stretched out in front of you. Trees and shrubs dotted the horizon. There wasn’t a building or a soul in sight. The sky was the bluest and brightest you had ever seen.

“How did I… get here?” you turned around and yelped in surprise. The dorm was gone. Nothing but savanna stood in its place. Lush green scenery spread out for miles. Maybe you were still sleeping. Ok, deep breaths. You closed their eyes and rubbed them so hard that colorful dots swam behind your eyelids.

You felt a sinking feeling in your feet. Wait. Your feet? Your eyes flew open. Quicksand! Your heart began to beat faster. You were sinking at an alarming rate, and no one was around to hear your cries for help. You struggled against your might against the sand but to no avail.

A growl ripped through the air and shook the earth. As if on cue, a sandstorm formed before your eyes. You spotted a figure through the sand. A figure that looked all too familiar.

A strangled scream escaped your throat. Leona Kingscholar. In all of his overblot glory. Black ink swirled in the air, threatening to swallow everything whole. His eyes, oh, his eyes. His green eyes glowed with unrelenting rage and pain. He reached out his hand, a claw covered in black goo. Slowly, he made his way to you, sinking into the sand.

You squeezed your eyes shut. No! No! No! Someone, please help me! I’m going to die! Help! Please-

“Oi! Wake up!” a deep voice called to you.

Your eyes shot open. You came face to face with the last person you wanted to see. You pushed him away with all your might.

“No! Get away from me!” you shouted. You whipped your head around to take in your surroundings. The savanna was gone, and you were back in your bedroom. A fire crackled in the fireplace. Cold sweat covered your body. Another nightmare. When will it end?

“Hey.” a deep voice pulled you from your daze. You snapped your head in the direction of the doorway. Leona was standing there, hand on his hip. He looked so cool and relaxed, as usual. But the shadow clouding his face said otherwise.

“What do you want?” you snapped at him. You winced. It wasn’t his fault. But you were so tired. Honestly, things were going well after the last overblot. Everyone was friends again. It was as if nothing happened until that fateful night.

The first nightmare was almost identical to the one you had just awakened. It felt so real. The sounds, the sands, and that dreadful, all-consuming ink. You couldn’t get it out of your mind. If you felt so terrible about it, you couldn’t even imagine how Leona felt. Maybe he was having nightmares, too. Leona furrowed his brow.

“You declined my gracious invitation. I came to set things straight. But, I wasn’t expectin’ to find you like this.” he said in a low voice. Were your eyes deceiving you, or did he look… worried?

“Thanks for the invitation, but I’m a little busy. I got lots going on,” you said.

“Heh, you’re real bold for an herbivore. Lyin’ to my face like that.” Leona said. He sighed as you avoided his gaze. His shoes clicked on the ground as he walked over to your bed. The old mattress creaked under his weight as he sat next to you. You scooted away from him and crossed your arms. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke up.

“How long?” he asked. You glanced at him.

“How long what?”

“The nightmares. How long have you had them?”

You thought for a moment before answering with a whisper. “I can’t remember.”

Leona nodded. Silence fell over them again. You glanced in his direction. For the first time, you noticed dark circles under his eyes. Oh no. Poor Leona. Your heart ached for him. But what could you do? You sighed.

Fatigue was starting to set in. You wondered what to say to Leona. He was hurting just as much as you were. Probably worse. What could you say? He came to see why you didn’t go to the barbecue. But you couldn’t tell him the truth. It would hurt him if you told the truth. I didn’t want to see you. I’m not ready. Being around you hurts. It scares me. Even though I know it wasn’t your fault, a part of me still blames you. And it makes me feel so horrible. I don’t-

You stifled a gasp as a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and squeezed you tight. Leona rested his head on top of yours.

“L-Leona?” you whispered. Silence. You heard him take a shaky breath before answering.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.”

At first, you were too stunned to speak. And then the floodgates opened. Hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed into Leona’s shoulder. He tightened his grip around your shuddering body. You cried for what felt like an eternity.

Leona didn’t loosen his grip even after your tears stopped. You could feel his slow and steady heartbeat like ocean waves coursing through your body. You wondered if he fell asleep.

“Leona?” your voice cracked.

“Mmm?” he mumbled. You pulled away from him, far enough to see his face. His eyes were red, and his ears were down. A sullen expression darkened his face. You had never seen him like this. Your chest tightened.

“Leona, I-”

Leona put a finger on your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say, but you don’t have to say it. Just-” he sighed. “If you need me, let me know. Alright?”

“What if I need you in the middle of the night?”

“Whenever. I’ll show up. For you,” Leona said. He reached up to your face and stroked your cheek.

“What if I need you first thing in the morning?”

“I’ll show up.”

“What about- hey!” you whined as Leona pinched your cheek.

“I told you whenever, so quit askin’,” he grumbled. You smiled at him. Same old Leona. It was so good to see his scowl again. You hugged him tight and nuzzled his shoulder. Leona hugged you back.

“Are we good, Leo?”

Leona hesitated before answering. “Shouldn’t I be askin’ you that?”

“Well, I asked you first.”

Leona pressed his forehead against yours and looked deeply into your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze. He ran his thumb along your chin before tilting it upward.

“This may not be the right time, but can I kiss you?” he asked. Without hesitating, you whispered, “Yes.” Your lips met, setting off fireworks in your heart. Leona wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair as the kiss deepened. So many words you’d left unsaid passed between you, spilling over your lips, dancing on your tongues. You kissed each other like your lives depended on it. Like you would never be able to do it again.

You peppered Leona’s face with kisses before finally pulling away. A small smile graced his face. That moment made you realize that everything was going to be ok. You would be there for him, and he would be there for you. Together, you could overcome the past, no matter how much it scared you both. “So, how about that barbecue, hmm?” you winked at him. Your heart skipped a beat as his usual smug smile crossed his lips.

“Nah. Let’s stay here. We’ve got some catchin’ up to do.”

“But what about-” your words were interrupted as Leona kissed you.

“You talk too much, herbivore.”

You smiled against his lips as he kissed you again and again. Oh, my sweet carnivore. How lovely your kisses are. I will walk with you on this healing journey together. No matter where our lives take us.

#leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #this is my first fanfiction #please be nice :(#i actually like how this turned about #ok byeeee

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markrosewater · 2 months

Note

Is there a reason that in the past few years almost every new plane we’ve seen has been top-down? I think you said at some point that New Capenna was bottom up, but even that still CLEARLY was going for and was inspired by a specific flavor. When I think of that set I see it as just “outside in” not bottom up or top down. In the past decade, the new planes we got full sets for were, in order: Fiora(bottom up), tarkir(I thought bottom up but I saw something recently that said you had initially started with the idea of clans that represent the different traits of a dragon so I guess topdown?), Kaladesh(seems topdown), Amonkhet (topdown), Ixalan (top down), Kylem(I think I remember Gavin saying this was topdown at some point but it seems bottom up to me), Eldraine (topdown), Ikoria (seems bottom up but honestly I’ve got no clue), Kaldheim (topdown), Arcavios (bottom up), Kamigawa (I know it’s technically not a new plane but it’s so radically different from old Kamigawa that I’m counting it. Also this was topdown), and New Capenna (previously mentioned). Seemingly more topdown sets than bottom up ones. And when you look at all the returning planes in those years, it’s the same pattern. Even if the plane’s design originally wasn’t topdown, like dominaria or ravnica, the returns felt as though they were focused on “look at this plane!” As opposed to “look at this design space!”. Even when the return isn’t focused on the plane, like the recent set murders at Karlov manor, it’s still feels more focused on flavor than function. That’s not to say that topdown sets are bad or poorly designed, just that it feels like more and more planes and sets are “how do we mechanically represent this flavor” and fewer and fewer seem to be “how do we flavorfully represent this mechanic”. I don’t really know what my question is, but I just wanted to hear what you have to say about that

Top down vs. bottom up is a design term talking about what part of the design you start with. Every set has flavor and mechanics, and by the time it goes to print, they’re interconnected, so you, the audience, shouldn’t know whether it was top down or bottom up if we’ve done our job well. Which apparently we have as many of the sets you listed as top down were bottom up. : )

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Rush

Chapter 7: Don't Blame Me

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: vaginal fingering, handjob, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (missionary), creampie

Summary: Your relationship with Eren becomes more intense and more complicated than you ever bargained for.

Notes: Beer pong rules are different for everyone. Personally, I always thought it was gross having to drink the alcohol from the cup the ball lands in. That thing is tossed all over the place (like the nasty floor). These rules are a slight variation. Also, RIP Sandra’s bedsheets lol. Song is “Don’t Blame Me” by Taylor Swift.

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Playing beer pong versus your fuck buddy Eren Jaeger with a Spartan warrior as your partner is not what you expected when you agreed to go out on Halloween night.

Mike drags you through the crowd, coaxing you into playing the game alongside him. Nearing the beer pong table, you notice Eren standing to the side next to a Delta Mu who’s dressed in a bumblebee costume.

“Has anyone called dibs for the next round?” Mike addresses the crowd. “This angel and I would like to play next.”

When no one claims it, he looks at you, grinning. “You ready?”

“Sure. But I might be really bad.”

“It’s easy. Just throw the ball into one of the cups. If you make it, they have to take a shot.” He points at a small table to the side that has rows of shots lined up. “If they make it, we have to drink.” He puts his arm around you. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”

You and Mike step towards the table at one end, rearranging the cups in the standard triangle formation, checking that they are still partially filled with water. Across from you is Eren and the Delta Mu woman. The opposing team.

“Eren! My man. I guess we’re playing you. What’s your pretty friend’s name?”

“I’m Pieck,” she responds with a friendly wave. You return her smile, introducing yourself. You sneak a quick glance at Eren, who wears a scowl. He doesn’t look at you; his focus is on the cups on your side of the table.

What’s going on in that head of his? Is he taking this game that seriously?

Or could it be that he’s jealous?

Eren, who fucks you like a madman then cuddles you lovingly, only to pretend that you don’t exist. Eren, who calls you baby and sweetie as he plows you into his mattress but acts as if he doesn’t remember your name at the parties. Eren, the man who refuses to share a meal together in public, while being totally obsessed with eating you out.

Can the guy who refuses to recognize any feelings for you really be jealous?

You decide to test it out.

Mike asks, “You guys want to go first?”

“Sure,” Pieck answers, offering the ball to her partner.

He still doesn’t speak while he lines himself up and releases the ping pong ball, sinking it directly into the middle cup.

“Nice,” Mike compliments. Eren simply shrugs. The urge to roll your eyes at his forced indifference is strong, but you manage to reel it in.

Mike reaches over to the other table to grab a shot, ready to chug it until Eren finally talks, demanding, “I want her to take it.”

You look at him, startled by his sudden acknowledgment of you. He stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. You recognize a hint of a smirk on his face. A glint of wickedness in his eyes.

“Fine,” you oblige, taking the liquor away from Mike and throwing it back. It burns trickling down your throat, but you do your best to avoid a grimace, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

“Can I take the first shot, Mike?” you ask your teammate.

“Of course.”

“Can you show me how?”

It isn’t difficult to throw a ping pong ball. You’re fully aware of how this simple game works. But with Eren staring daggers from across the table, you can’t help but milk this for all it’s worth. And knowing Mike, he’s going to take full advantage of teaching you all the right ways to play this silly game.

He stands behind you, his voice low and husky. “You gotta angle your body, make sure you’re center.” Hands on your waist, he positions you correctly, pressing himself against you. His warm breath grazes your ear. “Just shoot straight and you’ll make it. You got this.”

Eyes forward, you avert Eren’s glare as you release your arm and toss the ball, landing it at the top of the triangle.

“Atta girl!” Mike exclaims, rubbing your shoulders.

“I think the lifeguard should take the shot.” You point at Eren, refusing to say his name. He walks to the table and chugs it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brow twitches, either from annoyance or amusement.

The game continues, Pieck going next and scoring, resulting in Mike drinking. This goes back and forth, tosses sometimes landing and sometimes not. Whenever either of you make it into a cup, you and Mike high five each other. A few times, he gives you a one-armed hug. Even once does he smack your butt, which at this point, you’re tipsy enough to not be embarrassed by.

Eren broods in your direction, not at all interacting with his poor teammate, who still seems to be enjoying herself. You and Eren are playing your own private game with each other, your partners totally unaware of the unspoken tension hanging in the air. Every time he scores, his gaze drifts towards you, a slight crack in that frown of his, trying to contain the cocky smirk you know he wants to show off.

Just a few cups left on both sides of the table, Mike prepares to launch his attack. Before he does, he turns to you, raising the ball to your face. “Blow on it. For good luck,” Mike says, winking. You give him a cheeky grin as you blow out a puff of air into his fist. From your peripheral, you see Eren roll his eyes, giving you a sense of satisfaction.

It goes into the second to last cup on their side. Eren lets out an obvious groan, retrieving a shot from the table and downing it aggressively. Slightly wobbly, he gets ready for his turn. It lands into the corner cup, leaving one remaining on both sides now.

Pieck and you both miss on your turns. There’s still one cup remaining at the very end of the table as Mike prepares to throw.

“How about a kiss this time?” he asks you, tapping on his cheek. “For good luck, of course.”

You hesitate for a split second, fully aware that Eren is watching. You want to see how far you can push his buttons. How upset you can make him. If he truly doesn’t have feelings for you, he wouldn’t care about your actions. But here he is, huffing and puffing all night because of a silly game. Maybe if you up the ante, he’ll break.

Besides, this is payback for all the times he made you feel like shit.

Leaning in with a pout, you plant an obnoxious smooch on Mike’s cheek. Smiling, he propels the ball and lands it straight into the remaining cup, winning the game.

The nearby crowd cheers, patting you and Mike on the shoulders. Smiling, you wrap your arms around his neck as he embraces you in return, his hands gliding to your waist. Eren stands at the other side, jaw and fists clenched. Pieck has a grin on her face, clapping.

Mike reaches out to them. “Great game you two. That was fun.” You follow suit, shaking Pieck’s hand first. When you approach Eren, he takes your hand and squeezes it gently, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. You can almost feel him tugging you in closer, but he doesn’t. As soon as you let go, you miss the feeling of his skin on yours.

With one last glance at you, he goes to the corner where his big bro and Bertolt are, crossing his arms, sulking.

Back to the same bullshit.

Thinking this is the last interaction you’ll have with him tonight, you join your friends again in the kitchen, bragging about your win.

“Eren looks pissed,” Connie chuckles. “He must really hate losing.”

“He looked like that the entire time. I feel bad for Pieck, but she was a good sport,” Mike mentions. He turns to you, smiling. “You did great, by the way.”

You wave him off. “Beginner’s luck. Besides, I had a really good teacher.”

“Yeah? I can teach you something else. If you’re up for it.” There’s thirst dripping from his low voice. You’re nervous and excited all at once, cheeks flushed with heat from the alcohol you’ve been consuming. Feeling a little reckless and loose.

Entertaining the idea, you ask him, “What do you mean?”

He leans into you, breath hot on your ear, the sickly-sweet smell of liquor wafting from his mouth. “Follow me.”

You swallow the saliva collecting on your tongue, letting him lead you out the kitchen. Mikasa wolf whistles, causing the rest of your friends to giggle while you head upstairs.

The two of you enter the first bedroom in the hallway, Mike shutting the door behind him. He steps towards you, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. You look at him, lips parted and breath shallow as he leans in closer to kiss you.

His lips are plush on yours, facial hair rough against your skin. Your tongues slide around each other’s, kisses getting messier as he directs you to the bed. You lie on your back, angel wings crushed beneath you, legs dangling off the edge. He surrounds you, scattering soft kisses onto your neck.

His body is hot and heavy. Your skin tingles with frenzy having him on top of you like this.

But it doesn’t feel right.

“Mike.” His name sounds foreign on your tongue. Unfamiliar and new.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. But I…” your voice trails off as his fingers drift down to fondle your breasts. His hands are bigger than Eren’s. The itch of his mustache on your neck is unusual.

“What is it? What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He turns his face up to suck on your ear lobe, dragging it down with his lips. More heat rushes into your cheeks, overwhelmed by the sensation growing between your legs. You’re aroused; there’s no denying it. He’s sexy and titillating. Still, something isn’t right.

It has nothing to do with him. It’s you.

You’re thinking about Eren.

As Mike reaches the hem of your angel dress, you can’t help imagining Eren on top of you instead, his nimble fingers toying with the fabric of your white lacey panties. He mutters, “Fuck,” rubbing at the wet spot from your arousal. “Can I finger you?”

In a daze, you nod, feeling his middle finger slip pass the lace into your slick entrance.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

In your mind, Mike’s dirty words are replaced with Eren’s low voice whispering good girl to you over and over again. The thought of him makes you wetter as Mike continues to pump into you.

“Can you jerk me off, princess?” He kneels beside you, shoving his Spartan kilt down his waist to free his erection. You wrap your hand around his shaft, stroking him. Wishing it were Eren instead.

Another finger slips into your pussy while he thrusts into your fist, grunting. You lie still on the bed next to him, flustered and hasty for him to come. Feeling guilty, thinking of someone else as he tries to pleasure you. He’s nice, he’s fun, he likes you.

It’s not the same. He’s not Eren.

Mike’s dick twitches in your fist as he orgasms, cum dribbling out of his slit and dripping down your knuckles. He pulls out of you, observing your slick on his fingers. “Did you come?”

“Yes.” It’s a lie. You didn’t.

Chuckling, he kisses you. He hoists up his kilt and hops off the bed. “Should we head back to the party?”

You sit up, stretching your defiled hand out. “I’m going to use the bathroom first. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Right. See you later.” He gives you a wink before exiting the room.

Conveniently, there’s a bathroom in the bedroom. You walk to the sink, rinsing Mike’s cum from your hands. Searching the cabinets and drawers, you find a pack of baby wipes and clean yourself up, removing any evidence of your naughty deed.

Finally alone, you let out a prolonged sigh, processing what just happened. Everything feels wrong. Mike has been nothing but kind to you. And yet, Eren still lingers in the back of your mind. You’re in deeper than you ever expected. No matter how much you try to escape him, you always find yourself back in his clutches. It’s your own fault for letting yourself sink so far down the abyss.

Checking yourself in the mirror one more time, you exit the bathroom. You’re startled to see an all too familiar figure leaning against the closed door of the bedroom.

~~~

Eren doesn’t remember the last time he got jealous. In fact, he never gets jealous.

That is, until tonight.

He didn’t think he’d be playing beer pong with her and Mike fucking Zacharias. His whole plan was to do this foolish game to escape any interaction with them throughout the party.

Maybe it’s karma. All the times he’s disappointed her are coming back to haunt him. The universe is telling him that he has to suffer for what he’s done.

And suffer he does. He hates seeing them exchange high fives, one-armed hugs, little touches. Watching Mike rub her shoulders, even smack her ass at one point. The way he leans in close, just to show her how to throw a fucking ball into a cup. It’s repulsive. It makes him sick.

She’s no better. She knows exactly what she’s doing, giving him little glances all while flirting with his frat brother. Challenging him. Testing him. It’s diabolical.

It makes him want her more.

He doesn’t focus on anything else besides her the entire time. Each shot he lands is to impress her. To prove something to her. Prove that he’s just as good as Mike fucking Zacharias.

When they lose, he’s tempted to flip over the goddamn table. Mike getting all the fucking glory for doing the bare ass minimum is revolting. She’s eating it all up, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting him put his hands on her waist. Eren doesn’t miss any of these tiny details. He memorizes it, stores it in his brain for later for whenever he wants his blood to boil.

He’s jealous. He’s very fucking jealous.

She comes here, dressed in that, only to ignore him the whole night to focus all her attention on Mike. It’s a taste of his own medicine, and he doesn’t appreciate it one bit. He’s losing his mind over it. Does he deserve it? Absolutely. He knows he’s been a dick to her. Still, it doesn’t feel good to have it handed back to him like this.

He retreats to the side of the room where Reiner and Bertolt are, chatting with their friends Porco and Marcel. Reiner nods in greeting before saying, “Can’t believe you let Mike and that SNK girl beat you.”

“Whatever. It’s a stupid game.”

“At least you got to play with Pieck. She’s hot, right? Think you’ll hook up with her tonight?”

Eren forces a grin. “Yeah, maybe.” He won’t, but he doesn’t want to deal with Reiner at the moment.

Porco joins them, pointing his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ve never seen Sigma Nu Kappa’s out at a party before. So weird. I thought they didn’t go out.”

Reiner rolls his eyes. “I wish they weren’t here. It’s killing the vibe.”

“What’s your beef with them?”

“I just don’t like seeing ugly bitches at a party,” he says, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Porco snickers, “You’re fucked up man.”

Bertolt remains his quiet self, observing Annie from afar as she talks to Armin by the refrigerator. Eren crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling deeply. He’s always known that his big bro is an asshole. It hasn’t bothered him much before, but for some reason, it irks him now. Reiner has made no efforts to socialize with any of the women of Sigma Nu Kappa. For him to spew misogynistic comments shamelessly solidifies the fact that he is a dick.

Is Eren any better though?

Reiner nudges him, asking, “Isn’t the chick you played the one who was with us at the food bank? She said some stupid shit about me having a shitty personality.”

He’s taken aback by his acknowledgement of her. “Uh, yeah. That’s her.” There’s a lump in his throat, nervous for what his big bro is about to say next.

“Mike is all up on her. He really is a dog. Always going for the virgins and fresh meat.”

Alarms start ringing in Eren’s mind. As if he couldn’t hate Mike Zacharias even more, Reiner has to mention this. There’s a growing dread building in his chest, imagining the two of them together, Mike defiling her the way he did not too long ago. His ears are hot, either from the rage surging through his body or the alcohol he’s guzzled throughout the night. Is he supposed to stand here and watch this unfold in front of him?

He watches Mike lead her away from the kitchen and up the stairs. She’s actually going through with it.

Frozen in place, he stares at the staircase in the dark hallway, waiting for her to come down any minute, hoping she changes her mind. After several minutes, his hope dwindles, fearing the worst. Should he barge in and interrupt them? No, that’s fucking crazy. They’re not a couple. He has no right to stop her from hooking up with other guys. No right at all.

Several minutes pass. Mike descends the stairs with a goofy expression. Eren makes his move. He maneuvers through the crowd, sneaking into the kitchen to eavesdrop. The Sigma Nu Kappa sisters have since retreated to the dance floor, Armin and Connie joining them. Mike is surrounded by Erwin and a few men that Eren recognizes from another fraternity. He opens the fridge, hiding himself behind the door, listening.

“Where have you been, Mike?”

“Just hanging out with a friend upstairs,” Mike answers. He can practically hear the cocky smirk forming on the douchebag’s face.

Erwin says, “I hope you were a complete gentleman to her. She’s a good girl.”

“Yeah, she is a very good girl, if you know what I mean.”

Eren nearly punctures the can of beer settled in his grip, but he keeps his cool and continues to listen.

“Does Big Mike have a new girlfriend now?” one of the men teases.

“Whoa, hey. She’s a nice girl, but you know I don’t really do girlfriends. We’re just having a little fun together.”

“Where is she?”

Mike chuckles. “She’s still upstairs, cleaning herself up. Left a mess up there.”

Eren slams the refrigerator shut, having heard enough. Before he knows it, he’s dashing up the stairs, trying to determine which room she’s in. He goes into the first one, turning the handle slowly to check if it’s unlocked. When he enters, he notices a small lamp illuminated on the bedside drawer. There’s a sound of rushing water from a faucet. He turns in the direction of the bathroom, which is currently occupied. Shutting the door quietly, he leans against it, waiting with palms pressed to the wood in anticipation.

When she opens the bathroom door, her eyes widen at his unexpected appearance. “Eren?”

He fucking loves the way she says his name. She hasn’t said it all night until now, and he feels himself melting because of it.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” She moves to the bed, sitting at the edge.

“I wanted to check on you.” He steps towards her, noticing the halo sitting crooked on her head. He reaches out to adjust it, hand gliding down her hair to tuck it behind her ear.

She peers up at him with delicate eyes, watching him carefully. “How did you know I was in here?”

“I overheard Mike talking.”

“What did he say?” She sounds embarrassed. He isn’t afraid to rat Mike out for being a total idiot.

“That you are a good girl. How the two of you are having fun together. Said you left a mess up here.”

She buries her face into her palms. “I can’t believe he’s telling people.”

“So, what did you do? Did he fuck you?” He doesn’t care anymore how brazen he’s being. He wants to know. He needs to know. The curiosity is eating away at him like acid.

She crosses her arms, taking a defensive stance. “Does it matter? It’s not like you and I are exclusive.” They’re fighting words. Hostile, especially that last statement.

He shrugs, trying to seem unbothered. “I’m just curious.”

Stalling for a few seconds, she finally confesses. “He fingered me, and I gave him a handjob. That’s it.”

Despite his cool disposition, deep down, Eren can’t help but celebrate. That’s it. As if it was underwhelming. Mediocre.

They’re silent, neither knowing how else to continue this conversation. She changes the subject, leaning back on her hands, asking, “Whose bright idea was it to put you in some red shorts and call you a lifeguard? It’s very half-assed.”

He smirks at another one of her witty comments. The tension appears to be easing up a bit. “Hey, I’ve got a whistle on my neck, too. How much more accurate can I get?”

“Maybe if you perform mouth-to-mouth, it’ll be more believable.” She stands to tug at his whistle, pulling him in closer.

“You’re naughty for an angel. You sure you’re not the devil in disguise?” He places his hands on her waist, lips grazing her ear. Fingers flirting with the risqué tear on her dress. “God, you drive me crazy. Getting me all riled up and shit during the game. Was that your plan all along? Make me jealous so I would fuck you like a slut?” His cock hardens beneath his shorts, the promise of sex palpable in the confined space between them.

There’s a mischievous smile on her face as she glides her hands up his bare chest. “So you were jealous. Interesting.” She tips her head towards his, lips barely touching as she whispers. “And who says you can fuck me tonight?”

Before he can close the gap, she turns her back to him, slowly sliding the hem of her dress over her waist to reveal white lacey panties.

His knees buckle. “Fuck, when did you get these?” He skims his thumb underneath the fabric, tugging it away just to hear it snap against her skin.

“I bought them for my costume. Do you like it?” She cranes her neck to give him a playful smile, teasing him. It’s so fucking sexy.

“What do you think? Look how hard I am for you.” He shoves his shorts down to free his erection, stroking himself as he marvels at her beautiful form in front of him.

“I’m not going to give it to you that easy.” She lowers her dress and turns to face him again. Eyes gleaming with something Eren has never seen before. “You need to work for it.”

This is a different side of her. Usually, she’s obedient to him. Now, she’s tormenting him. Forcing him to beg for it. And he finds himself more than willing to do it.

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do it,” he mutters, salivating. Cock unbelievably hard in his fist, shorts pooled around his ankles.

“Get on your knees.”

Without a second thought, he kicks his shorts aside and kneels on the floor, gazing up at her. Worshipping her. She presses herself against his face. He inhales deeply, taking in her scent.

“You want me, Eren?” She grabs the top of his head by his hair and shoves it towards her clothed pussy. “Tell me you want me. Beg for it.”

“Fuck. I want you. I want you so bad. Please.” He continues to stroke his dick as she smothers him with her sweet cunt.

She lifts the hem of her dress again, revealing the lingerie. Eren opens his mouth to feel the fabric on his tongue, licking at her covered clit. Frantic for any part of her that she’ll give him.

“Were you really jealous?”

“Can you blame me? You have no idea how fucking sexy you are. I want you all to myself.”

“You do?”

He nods, rubbing his face across the lace covering her bud. Her slick seeps through the thin fabric, inviting him to indulge in her arousal. A guttural moan escapes from him as he sucks on it with his lips, drawing out as much of her as he possibly can.

“Have you been with other girls?”

He shakes his head earnestly. “No. I haven’t.” This is the absolute truth. He hasn’t been with anyone else besides her. No matter how much he wants to live out this fuck boy lifestyle he idealizes, he can’t. Not while she’s around.

“And do you still want me? Even after someone else has touched me?” Her voice trembles. Guilt-ridden. Remorseful. She doesn’t need to be.

He pulls away to gaze at her, confessing with conviction, “I want you more than anything.”

Her breath hitches before she demands, “Take them off.”

On her command, his hands slide up the sides of her legs, delighting in the familiar softness of her skin. He drags the white lace off her body, cock rigid against his abdomen, electricity surging through his veins. Patiently waiting to have her, to hold her, to be inside her.

She picks up her feet to help him remove her panties completely. “You like feeling it on your cock, don’t you? Show me how you do it.”

“Holy fuck, you’re bad,” he groans, taking the lingerie and wrapping it around his stiff cock. Knowing these were just on her makes him even harder. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. It’s agonizing and thrilling all at the same time, having the roles reversed. He’s delirious under her will.

She walks backwards towards the bed, sitting at the edge again. Thighs spread enough to show him her luscious, glistening pussy. Eren’s not even a little embarrassed at the expression he’s making. Slack-jawed, eyes glazed, totally dumb and drooling over the vision before him. He has no shame anymore. He wants her. He wants all of her.

He crawls over to position himself between her thighs, leaning in until he’s stopped.

“Not yet. I want you to watch me play with myself.”

Fuck. His cock aches in the best possible way, enduring her torment as she leans back, masturbating in front of him, massaging circles onto her clit with a naughty look on her face. She knows what she’s doing to him. She’s enjoying it. Relishing how deranged he’s getting from being teased like this.

“Let me eat it. Please, baby. I need it. Please.” He sticks his tongue out, too fucking eager to pleasure her, to be the reason she moans in ecstasy. Her fingers look delicious, shimmering in her arousal as she works them into her sopping cunt.

“Go ahead. Give it to me.”

Arms spreading her open, he presses his face into her, lapping her up like a fucking rabid animal. He’s out of control, fisting his cock vigorously as he fucks her with his mouth, cherishing every emphatic moan she breathes out. The sounds of the party below are overtaken by the wet noises of Eren’s face buried in her arousal. The bass of the music from the stereo speakers is drowned by the pounding of his heart driven by adrenaline.

He slips one finger into her easily, then another. Pumping them in and out as he slobbers all over her puffy clit, sucking and licking as if his life depends on it. It’s erotic, obscene. Nasty. He wants to make a fucking mess. He yearns to see her pussy drip with cum and his spit.

She starts to chant his name, gripping the sheets into fists and rocking against his sloppy face, climax quickly approaching.

“Come for me. Come all over my face, sweet angel,” he murmurs into her skin, delighting in the way she tightens around his fingers, now coated in her slick.

“Fuck, Eren!” she cries out, bucking her hips as she orgasms on his face. The temptation to come with her is staggering, but the desire to make love to her overtakes it.

“Baby,” he hums, kissing her swollen bud. “I want to come inside you. Will you let me? Please?”

In her blissful state, she manages a small nod while she scoots up the bed, laying her head on one of the pillows. He sits adjacent and starts to undress her, first by extracting the disheveled wings off her back. The halo is next, his fingers carefully tugging it from her hair, ensuring not to yank on any loose strands. He leans in to kiss her on the lips, face still damp with her wetness as he slips his tongue into her mouth.

“He didn’t make you come, did he?” he asks, reaching for the bottom of her dress to hoist it off her.

“How’d you know?” She raises her arms above her to shimmy out of her costume.

“I know your body. I’ve memorized everything about it.” He kisses her forehead, feeling her back to unclasp her bra. When she’s finally naked, he caresses her breast, lightly pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it’s firm to the touch. They kiss passionately while he positions himself on top of her.

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to her. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

She gazes at him, eyes flickering with anticipation and desire. “Make love to me.”

His heart beats faster. He smiles at her, whispering, “As you wish.”

~~~

He gently guides his cock into you, filling you in the most exquisite way. Your wet and needy cunt swallows him up perfectly. Once his whole length is inside you, he starts to thrust slowly, only increasing the pace when you wrap your legs around him, gasping in pleasure. You start to unravel beneath him, still dizzy from your first orgasm and so fucking desperate for the next.

“You’re a greedy little slut tonight, huh? Getting finger fucked by Mike and now taking my cock,” he grunts out.

“Fuck, Eren. Right there. Keep fucking me like this,” you encourage him, tightening your hold on his waist.

“He doesn’t make you come the way I do, does he?”

You shake your head, agreeing with him. Unable to speak coherently to validate his statement.

“I want to hear you say it.” He slows his thrusts, penetrating you deeper, hitting that sweet spot he always finds oh so easily.

It’s exhilarating, has your heart racing and thumping in your chest. All you can muster is a frazzled, “Fuck.”

“Say it,” he demands again, aggression in his gruff voice.

You swallow hard, blurting out, “He doesn’t make me come the way you do.”

He picks up the pace again, his cock pounding into you mercilessly. “It’s your fault I’m like this. For making me addicted to you.”

His fingers travel down to your arousal, caressing your overstimulated clit. The sensation causes you to cry out his name. Your body feels on fire, a fever spreading from your core all the way to your fingertips.

“I can’t get enough of you. I want you all the time.” He slips his tongue into your mouth, his saliva spilling down your throat. Determined to fill you with as much of him as he possibly can. All you can do is whimper and succumb to the madness.

You grind your hips on him, matching his rhythm. He growls, “Fuck me, baby. Just like that. Fuck me. Make me come. Let me fill you with my fucking load. I’m so fucking close.”

He slides his hands up your arms, holding them above your head. Interlocking his fingers with yours, fucking you senseless into the mattress. You can’t formulate words, only moans pour out of your mouth. Feeling your second climax approaching, you manage to breathe out a staggered, “Coming.”

Eren whimpers your name, moaning, “Fuck, baby. I’m coming too. I’m coming with you.” Your pussy tightens around him, gushing all over his cock as he releases inside you, filling you with his load. His eyes are shut tight, focused on riding out his high.

When he’s done, he pulls out of you, cock dripping with cum. He retrieves your lingerie from the floor and slides them up across your legs and ass until they’re back on you. “Can you keep my cum inside you the rest of the night, baby? Please?”

You nod at him with a dazed look on your face. He smiles at you, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You kiss, tongues out and mouths open, licking each other sloppily in the afterglow of your rapture. He cups your cheek, thumb brushing your skin tenderly. It’s different from all the other times. It means something.

You let out a giggle, feeling relaxed beside him. He kisses you on the forehead, then once more on the lips. The two of your remain silent, basking in each other’s warmth for one more minute.

“We should probably go back to the party,” you suggest.

He chuckles. “Yeah. I guess.”

The two of you hastily clean up the mess you made. He helps you with your costume, giving you soft kisses while readjusting the halo on your head and the angel wings on your back. Double checking yourselves in the vanity mirror one last time, you walk to the door, turning the handle to leave.

When you open it, you hear shuffling and snickering on the other side. You step away from the door to inspect whoever’s been eavesdropping. It takes a few seconds to register in the dimly lit hallway, but when your eyes meet, you recognize them instantly

Hitch and Annie stand against the banister, shocked expressions on their faces. Staring at you, Eren, then back to you.

“What the fuck?” Annie yells out immediately.

“That was you two in there?” Hitch asks.

You’re at a loss for words as Eren glares at them. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“We needed to pee, and the bathroom downstairs had a long line. Sandra said we can use her room,” Hitch quickly explains, twiddling her thumbs nervously.

“What the fuck?” Annie repeats.

“I’m outta here.” He leaves in a hurry, shutting the bedroom door behind him as he sprints down the stairs. Leaving you alone to deal with the shitstorm that’s about to unfold.

For a third time, Annie states, “What the fuck.”

Hitch says your name softly before asking, “Are you two together?”

Shocked, confused, and alone, you’re unsure how to respond to the current situation you find yourself in. Eren just up and left you to deal with it on your own.

You stammer, “I…Yes. Well, no. We’re not together.”

“What then? You’re just fucking?” Annie spits out, clear disgust in her voice.

You give her a simple nod, reluctant to say your answer out loud.

She hisses out your name, exasperated. “Are you fucking crazy? You’re fucking Eren fucking Jaeger?”

Hitch tries to calm her as you stand there, rooted to the floor, a rush of thoughts clouding your brain. The secret is out, Annie is pissed, and you’re alone.

“How long has this been going for?” Hitch looks at you with a concerned expression on her face.

“A couple weeks.” There’s no use in lying to them now. Lying will only make it worse. “No one knows. Not even Mikasa.”

“Why is it a secret? Did Eren put you up to this?”

You hesitate for a few seconds, contemplating how you want to answer. “It was a mutual agreement.”

Annie’s voice rings out again. “That’s bullshit. He told you to keep it a secret, didn’t he? And like the dummy you are, you agreed. Am I right? Or am I right?” Her words hurt, not because she’s trying to be malicious. But because it’s the truth.

“Annie, cut her some slack.”

“No, I will not. You’re better than this. You deserve better than this.”

You do your best to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes. This is not happening right now. Your mind is all over the place. “You don’t know him, Annie.” Your voice is small; it comes out as barely a whisper.

“Do you?”

“Of course I do.” That’s what you want to think anyways. In all honesty, Eren remains a mystery to you.

In a softer tone, Annie says, “He will break your heart. I guarantee you.”

“Annie,” Hitch warns.

She continues. “Guys like him will say whatever you want to hear so they can get what they want. He’s using you. You’re too naïve and stupid to realize it.”

“Annie.”

“There are people who care about you. And you choose to waste your time on him? You have to end it. Before you really get hurt.”

She’s right. It stings to hear it, but it’s all true. Can you take to heart all of what he says to you in the bedroom? Or is it all a ruse like Annie suspects?

Still, you can’t let it go just yet. Not when there’s an inkling of hope in the dark void.

“Give me time. I think…I think maybe he likes me.” Sniffling, you wipe the tears away from your cheek.

Hitch comes beside you, rubbing your back affectionately. “If he really likes you, it wouldn’t be this complicated.”

Annie nods in agreement, her tough exterior softening as she steps forward to console you.

In a span of just a few minutes, you find yourself reeling from your immense high only to come crashing down to a new low.

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End Notes: Thank you VERY much to everyone who’s read, liked, reblogged, or commented on this story so far. I can’t even begin to describe how much it means to me and how much I appreciate every single interaction! If you’d like to be added to the tag list for all future chapters, go ahead and interact with the Tag List post (linked above) or comment below. You are all the best! Thank you 🥰

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konigsfavwife · 4 months

Text

You’re mine

This is part 2 of traitor !!

Part 1

Summary: how could he do that to you? Surely you wouldn’t happen to get with his best friend to get under his skin…

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader // Blaise Zabini x Fem!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: (all characters are 18+) Rough, angry sex, slight praise, degrading, slapping, chocking, humiliation, bathroom sex. fake relationships, Draco being a little shit. Draco being toxic and possessive. Draco being nice during the end, so like bipolar

Authors note: I really didn’t know how to end the last one so I js decided to make a little part two also like I’m not the best at writing smut so bare with me

Song: So It Goes… - Taylor Swift.

Dress - Taylor Swift

After that mess with Draco you ran in the hallway until you ran into blaise, bumping your head on his hard chest. “Ow..” you huffed looking up at him. “Jeez sorry..” he huffed a little, looking down at you. “You okay? Your eyes are red and puffy” he said to her, putting out his hand to help you get up. “It’s fucking Draco and that pansy bitch! Right after he broke up with me not even a day later he wants to go and fuck around with her and forget about me!” You grumble, you head starting to pound as she slowly standing up while ranting to him about what happened. “Okay okay calm down it’s fine alright? He wasn’t even all that to begin with” he laughed, holding on her arms. “You don’t understand Blaise” you huffed softly. “Y/n listen to me. He isn’t worth everything in this world, especially not your heart. If he wanted you that bad he wouldn’t be fucking around with pansy. She ain’t even good looking” Blaise shrugged, a little smirk on his face. “Glad we both agree on something” you laughed half ass. “Y/n listen to me, I understand you both been through so much stuff together but maybe it’s time to let him go I mean he’s a Malfoy” Blaise laughed. “Damn isn’t he your best friend?” You laughed at Blaise’s comment about his friend. “I mean he’s alright but what he did to you wasn’t” Blaise shrugged. “Well now I don’t even have a date to the Yule ball” you huffed, looking at Blaise. “Go with me then maybe we can like fake date or something just to get him heated” Blaise asked. “Excuse me?” You looked at him confused “we both know Draco y/n. He hates whenever you were seen with someone else, let alone his best friend. Come on it’ll be fun” Blaise laughed. “Blaise are you playing with me?” You laughed, not being able to believe his offer. “I’m being serious!” He laughed with you. “This is ridiculous” you laughed again, looking at him. “Not I’m not opposed… “ you giggled a little. “Well isn’t that just perfect.. try to look your best tho okay? I really want to get under his skin” Blaise smirked at you. “Yeah yeah whatever..” you laughed. “Well the balls tomorrow night, remember what you agreed with.” He smirked at her before walking away.

The night of the ball

You had fixed your makeup and your hair curled down your back. You were wearing a white satin dress with pearls and white stones adoring the dress, it snugly hugged your curves in the best way possible. Your heels slowly walked down the stairs trying to spot out Blaise. While walking down it seems as all the attention was drawn to you. As you slowly walked down you saw multiple people stop and turn to the stairs, watching you walk down. But the person catching your attention was Draco, of course with pansy beside him in some short blue dress. Your hair bounced gently against your back as you found Blaise amongst all the people, your heels kicking against the floor as you walked over to him, a smile plastered on your lips. “Well don’t you look handsome” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek softly. You two had grown closer since the day you two dumped into each other and thought you two had to make is as realistic as possible. “Talk about me… Merlin love look at you..” he smirked, looking you up and down, checking you out. You laughed softly as you looked around the room, in the corner of your eye seeing Draco staring at you. “Here let’s walk inside” Blaise smiled and handed you his hand, accepting it with a smile as the both of you walk into the balls main area. “It looks beautiful in here” you smiled softly, looking at the scenery around you. “I know.. hogwarts always goes out for these balls..” he smirked. “Well I’m glad they do it, it always amazes me at how beautiful hogwarts can really be” you smiled, holding his hand gently then letting go. “Seriously” Blaise smiled to you as a slow dance already started to play. “Care to dance love?” Blaise asked, holding out his hand to you with a damn smile on his face. “I’d love too” you giggled, taking his hands and walked over to the dance floor wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hands on your hips, slowly swaying to the soft music playing. As you laid your chin on his shoulder while dancing you couldn’t help but feel as if someone was starring at you. You quickly looked around as Blaise twirled you around slowly, seeing Draco starring deep into the back of Blaise as he stood beside pansy. You continued to look as he moved his gaze to you causing you to look away quickly. “He’s staring so hard it’s scary..” you whispered to Blaise with a little laugh. “Of course he is. Your fucking stunning” Blaise whispered as he slowly twirled you around again, dipping you.

After a while of dancing with Blaise and the occasional stare between Draco you had decided to sit for a little since your feet were starting to hurt in your heels. “I’m honestly having such a good time Blaise” you smiled as you looked over at him. “I’m glad you are, you deserve a good time.” He spoke calmly “how’s your night been hm?” You asked Blaise honestly wanting to know. “It’s been good, but I feel as if I’m getting starred at the whole night” Blaise laughed. “The feelings mutual” you teased “guess we both know who that is” Blaise shrugged. As you looked around to see everyone around the ballroom you couldn’t seem to spot Draco, thanking he just went to his dorm. “Hey I’m gonna go use the bathroom, I’ll be back!” You told Blaise, getting up and walking out of the ballroom into the hallway.

going to the bathroom while not realizing you just bumped into someone. “Oh excuse me” you said to the person without looking up. “Y/n..” you hear a deep voice call out. “Going out to the ball with my best friend huh?” You heard the voice call out knowing it was Draco. “Leave me the hell alone I don’t wanna talk to you.” You grumbled, trying to walk past him. “Not so quick.” You heard him say as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a bathroom, hearing him mutter a locking spell. “Draco what the hell? What is up with you!” You yelled at him, tugging away from his grip. “You think you could just get with my best friend right after we broke up huh? You think so you fucking whore?” Draco sneered, pinning you up against a wall. “You broke up with me!” You shot back, but being stuck between his strong arms.

“Still. I didn’t hook up with your fucking best friend now did I huh? Oh wait I guess you’re just a play thing people use when they’re bored, swear to Merlin all you are is a fucking slut. Only for someone to use as they want.” Draco grumbled as he locked his lips with yours. Your eyes widened for a moment then closed as you felt Draco’s hand wrapped against your throat, not completely chocking you but definitely making his strength known. You quickly fell into the kiss, your body falling limp as he harshly kissed you. Some time after he parted lips with you, looking at you for a second then started to spin you around to where your back was facing him, quickly unzipping your dress as he watched closely. “Good fucking girl already knows what to do.” He groaned as he watched the dress fall to the floor in front of him.

As you turned around back to face him you could see Draco looking you up and down with hunger in his eyes as if he was staring down prey. He smirked as he motioned you on your knees, obeying you got down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with those damn eyes you always used to get what you wanted. He smirked to himself as he grabbed the top of your hair, watching as you undid his belt, throwing it Merlin knows where as you unbuttoned and unzipped his black slacks pulling them just below his knees as you palmed his erection though his boxers, him to groan, throwing his head back. “You know what to do you fucking slut.” Draco groaned as he looked down at you. You quickly pulled down his boxers to his ankles and slowly ran your nails up his legs to his thighs and up to his v-line. You fluttered your eyelashes as you slowly started to inch closer to his cock. You smirked to yourself as you looked up at him, his eyes hazy. “Come on I know you can do it.” He groaned, pushing your head closer, not wanting to wait. You rolled your eyes and put your mouth around the tip, slowly sucking it as your other two hands wrapped around his base, slowly pumping him. “Listen to me, I’m not in the damn mood for this shit.” He groaned, grabbing the back of your head and pushed your mouth deeper making you take more of him the farther he pushed. Your eyes widened as you started to choke on him, your eyes glossing with tears as he continuously pushing your head back and forth making you gag as he continued, your hands in his thighs crying to stabilize yourself. He threw his head back and groans left his lips. “Such a fucking slut aren’t you huh? Merlin I’m fucking close keep doing that baby…” he groaned as he went faster, your mascara dripping down from your eyes, ruining your makeup. “That’s fucking it…” he groaned his mouth open as he groaned, spilling his seed into your mouth. “Eat it. Don’t leave a damn drop.” He demanded as he moved your head back, allowing you to actually breathe. You nodded quickly and swallowed his seed, opening your mouth to show that you did just as he said. “That’s what I like to see.” Draco laughed half ass you he picked you up by your arm, pressing you up against the wall. “Your fucking mine? You understand that? You are mine. Mine to use as I want.” Draco sneered as he grabbed your cheeks with one hand, forcing you to look at him. You nodded. “Use your words.” He ordered, slapping your cheek. “Yes…” you mumbled. “Yes what?” Draco rolled her eyes, slapping your cheek again, leaving a red mark. “Yessir…” you whispered softly. “Good girl.” Draco smirked as his available hand slowly moved to your chest, slapping your boob once. You jumped a little as you looked at him. Draco chuckled to himself as his hand then slowly slid down to your stomach, then to your panties. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” Draco asked. You nodded quickly as you felt a slender finger play with the hand of your panties. “Spread your legs.” He ordered, his mouth latching with your neck as his hand slowly slid into your panties. You spread them open slightly as his fingers gently touched your bud.

“Draco…” you whispered softly, her head hitting the wall behind you as he sucked a purple hickey onto your neck. “You’re so fucking wet for me..” Draco purred as his fingers slowly slid through your slit, hovering over your hole as his middle finger slowly slid in. “Dra…” you panted as you felt his finger slowly enter. “Can feel how fucking wet you are. Cant wait for her ex boyfriend to fuck her real good.” Draco purred into her neck as he sucked on her neck. “Mhm..” you whispered softly as his finger curled inside you. “Please Draco…” you whimpered softly. “Please what? Use your words.” Draco purred as his middle finger slowly went knuckle deep. “Please fuck me…” you whispered softly. “That’s my girl…” Draco hummed softy as his middle finger left your hole causing you to whine from the loss of the feeling. Draco smirked, putting his ring finger and middle into you again, feeling your walls squeeze against his fingers. “So fucking tight as if I haven’t ruined you already…” Draco purred into your neck as he kissed your neck. “Please… I’m close…” you whispered, feeling him curl his fingers inside you. “Come on…” Draco purred as his pace was faster. “So close…” you whispered as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. You moaned as you felt your orgasm hit, leaning out head back into the wall behind you as Draco let you ride it out. “Good girl…” Draco hummed, taking his fingers out of her panties and saw a ring of white around his two fingers and put them to her mouth. “Suck.” Draco ordered. You nodded quickly and started to suck on them, tasting yourself on his fingers. Draco smiled as he felt your tongue suck up on his two fingers. “Such a little slut aren’t you?” Draco laughed. “Mhm…” you mumbled as you continued to suck. Draco shoved his fingers down your throat with a smirk as his other hand slid down your body so play with your tit, slowly tracing your nipple, leaving it aching. Draco then removed his fingers from your mouth and slapped your cheek, kissing you hard. His hands left your body and moved down to your panties, taking them off and throwing them to wherever his belt was. Draco hoisted you up to where he was holding you as your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands going into his hair gently tugging out it and earning a groan out of his mouth. “Damn..” Draco groaned. “So fucking pretty all fucked up by me..” Draco purred as his lips attached to your neck as his cock slowly slid into you. “Fucking hell…” you moaned out as you felt him slowly slip into your tight aching hole. Draco grunted as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily on your neck as he slowly pushed himself all the way in slowly starting to move you up and down on his cock. “Feel good?” Draco purred into your ear as he picked up the pace. “Mhm…” you mumbled softly, your back scratching at the brick wall behind you. “Merlin fuckin’ love how damn tight you are.” Draco groaned as he bounced you up and down. “Hell Draco…” you whimpered softly, her head hiding in his neck as her tears ruined her mascara, it running down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. “Gonna make you forget all about Blaise. Only mine. You’re only mine.” Draco groaned as he went faster, that same familiar knot it your stomach tightening. “Swear wanna cum in this tight fucking pussy. I bet you want that you slut.” Draco groaned as your nails dig into his shoulders as you placed your forehead on his. “Look at me.” Draco demanded. You slightly opens your eyes and looked at him, your eyes hazy and tired. “Close…” you mumbled quietly. “I know baby… be a good girl and wait until I say so..” Draco sighed out as he continuously bounced you up and down. “Please..” you whimpered tiredly. “Let go..” Draco sighed softly, gently kissing your cheek. “Merlin…” you whimpered as you felt your body shutter as you laid your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you fell asleep.

“And to think I hated you…” Draco sighed to himself as he slowly walked over to the sink and placed you in the counter still naked, taking off your makeup. “What am I doing with my life… Merlin I love you so fucking much.” Draco said to himself as he whipped your makeup off. He kept you on the counter as he looked for something to put you in so you wouldn’t have to put the dress on again. He found his blazer he wore and grabbed your panties and put them beside you. He smiled as he found his boxers and pants, putting them on them putting on his belt and his white button up dress shirt but not bothering to fix his hair. “Get up..” Draco whispered softly, kissing your forehead. “Just have to get you dressed than you can go back to sleep..” Draco whispered softly as he started to put his blazer on you, it being just big enough to cover you all the way. “Stand up..” Draco asked softly as he picked you io and placed you on the ground, sliding your panties on. You stumbled slightly but then laid your head on his shoulder, falling back asleep. Draco sighed slightly as he walked over to your dress and picked it up, carrying it while helping you walk out of the bathroom. Draco sighed a little as he realized it was hard to make you walk so he just decided to pick you up bridal style. You mumbled something as he picked you up but your words were incoherent because of how tired you were. Draco walked the halls of hogwarts then walked into the slytherin common room. Draco walked into a separate room that wasn’t the dorms tho because his dad made sure Draco got his own room and didn’t have to share with anyone. He walked into his room with you in his arms and dropped you on the bed. He put your dress down in a chair he had and started to change. He changed into a simple pair of pajama pants and a black shirt, grabbing an extra shirt for you to wear. He walked back over to his bed and removed the blazer he put on you and threw it over with your dress, not really caring as much for it. He put the shirt on your body and laid you back down, covering you in the black comforter he had on his bed. “Good night y/n.” Draco sighed as he was already feeling bad for the way he treated you. “I love you so fucking much…” Draco sighed as he sat down on the side of the bed. He turned to look at you sleeping peacefully, knowing he fucked up choosing pansy over you. He sighed as he laid down beside you, facing away from you.

The next morning you woke up in a bed, knowing it wasn’t yours. You yawned softly as you sat up noticing that you weren’t in your pajamas either. You were in someone’s t-shirt. You looked beside you and saw platinum blonde hair. “Draco.” You said out loud. “Mm..” Draco groaned, trying to go back to sleep. “Draco I didn’t think you would actually…” you mumbled as you slowly stretched. “What?” Draco sighed softly. “I didn’t think you would do all this for me.. I mean we aren’t dating anymore…” you sighed as if she had forgot what happened in the bathroom. “Y/n listen. I fucked up big time. After I got with pansy I couldn’t stand her. She wasn’t you. I want you. Not her. I don’t know if you’ll forgive me of leave I just wanted you to know I’m actually so sorry for what I said to you. But since your dating Blaise an all that I understand if you wanna leave.” Draco sighed as he propped his head up in his hand as his elbow rested in his pillow. “Draco…” you stammered, looking at him with wide eyes. “Me and Blaise weren’t dating… i did it just to get under your skin… Draco I love you..” you sighed. “So you wanna maybe get back together…?” Draco mumbled as he sat up. “Please…” you laughed a little. “Merlin I love you.” A little laugh escaping his lips as he kissed you.

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skinks · 5 months

Text

SPOILERS FOR SALTBURN

I haven’t seen Promising Young Woman but I did just see Saltburn and now I’m so dubious about Fennell’s politics that I’m basically obligated to see PYW to confirm my suspicions. It’s not that I think she’s conservative necessarily, but more that she’s so upper class London nepo baby rich that she could aspire to socialist feminism as much as she likes but it’ll never land because her background precludes her from ever having anything relevant to say about class.

There were things I liked about Saltburn. The editing, performances, black humour, costumes, sets, cinematography (NOT the aspect ratio - will explain) and the ballsiness of certain “transgressive” scenes I did appreciate. This is what makes it so frustrating and disappointing as a film. If you turn your brain off, it’s a wild ride, quite hypnotic and lovely to look at in that specific dreamy way that the dark, cool interiors of a house get on the hottest days of the summer. I hated the 4:3 aspect ratio though, it was POINTLESS. Why was it used? Surely it would have made more sense to capture the grand expansiveness of the titular estate in widescreen? It just felt twee for twee’s sake, like it was shot to produce compositions ready-cropped for big gifs on tumblr.

The “shocking” “transgressive” “erotic” stuff is not particularly any of those things. I mean, for me anyway. It might titillate the type of new-puritan gen z-ers who self censor it to “seggs”, but there was only one sequence that felt really “wow, I haven’t seen that in movie before!” levels of Going There. And even then these scenes always felt self-consciously affected, like Fennell only included them because she wanted to write a movie with fReAkY stuff, as opposed to the freaky stuff coming organically from the characters. I remember sitting in the cinema to see Call Me By Your Name feeling like I was burning to a crisp at the scene where Elio huffs a pair of a man’s used swim trunks - because it felt so authentic to this expression of a character who is at critical levels of desperate teenage horniness. In Saltburn, when Oliver gets down on his knees and slurps Felix’s jizzy bath water, it’s like… okay? Why? What does he want? We saw him lie about knowledge of the fancy plates to ingratiate himself to the dad, we already have reason to distrust anything he says, so it’s hard to believe he has any authentic desire for Felix. And that’s the main problem with the whole movie - the writing is fairly atrocious.

There’s no mystery. There’s no ANYTHING. There’s a tiny quick-cut flash montage of future events in the movie right at the start of the thing, so already we’re going in with no doubts that Oliver is gonna go nuts. So we know that bad shit is gonna happen, and yet the movie pulls out a big Twist Ending reveal like we… weren’t supposed to know that he’s been bad from the beginning? We don’t need all these flashbacks to show us he’d planned his dastardly deeds offscreen the whole time when we’ve already seen him commit OTHER dastardly deeds ONSCREEN. He’s given zero motivation. He tells us he did what he did because he hates this rich family, starting with Jacob Elordi’s Felix, but he had planned the whole thing from before they ever even met, or saw how the family treats the other two main victims of class in the film, Pamela and Farleigh. When Oliver starts spinning his web, Felix has never been anything but genuinely kind to him. Felix never did him any personal wrong except being born handsome, popular, and rich.

That’s the other glaring issue. Fennell has said this is supposed be another one of these “eat the rich” satires, but…. beyond the usual foot-in-mouth clueless social blunders, the movie portrays none of the rich family as even all that bad. Oliver isn’t even all that poor! His family are revealed to be extremely comfortably upper-middle class! This is not Parasite!!! The worst ethical thing they do is cut off Farleigh from family money - but it’s obvious to the audience that this is actually Oliver’s fault. So all we’re left with is this main character who’s the worst of the lot, with no reason to do what he’s doing except for being an asocial loser creep. If you’re making a class satire in Britain and your message at the end of the film is “those creepy disgusting middle class will pervert and mutate themselves to have what the beautiful victimised rich people do” you’ve… uhh. Failed. Somewhere along the line.

It wants to be The Talented Mr Ripley, but it is confused and stupid. Given Fennell’s background and social circle, is it any wonder? It’s like she’s looked around at her fellow Eton Oxford lot and thought “so the poors hate us because we’re a bit silly and old fashioned, right? no wonder they’re jealous, we’re all so sexy and our houses are so nice! Of course they’d do anything to have this!” She hasn’t seemed to conceive of the fact that the working class in Britain hate the upper class because millions live in genuine poverty while they get to obstruct social change because of archaic birthright. That many people in Britain don’t actually want to be the upper class, they want an end to them.

The thing is, I had fun watching it. I laughed a lot, and then left the cinema distinctly unimpressed, as one often does after interacting with people who go to private school and are perfectly charming but clearly still think they’re better/smarter than you because they have generational land, or multiple houses. I worked for 6 years as the stable groom for the heiress to a publishing fortune, I’ve met plenty of these people, believe me. All this to say, that this is deeply frustrating because I would like to turn my brain off from the dodgy politics and just appreciate a movie that goes out of its way to be visually stylish and includes a scene where a sobbing Barry Keoghan gets naked and fucks the fresh grave of his boy best friend. Now that’s entertainment

#I love freaky weird stuff in movies that’s my favourite stuff #but not when it thinks it’s cool and clever for being freaky and weird #that’s being a tryhard #your movie should be freaky and weird because you are freaky and weird

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just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 7 months

Text

Day off with Deac

@dizzybee03 - enjoy love! <3

“Good morning, trouble,” David said to you once you made it downstairs after you woke up from your post-shift nap. “How was your shift last night?”

You glared at him and looked at your watch. “Considering it’s 2 p.m.?”

He laughed and handed you a bowl of cereal.

“Rough shift?”

“It was a blast – shootings, stabbings, and STEMIs, oh my!” Your roommate laughed at you and shook his head.

“Lay person language – please.”

“Heart attacks, Deac. We had two shootings, an unrelated stabbing, and then a woman having a heart attack.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “I just asked!” He took a sip of his coffee, “You and your shit ass calls.”

“You know I trained my ass off to take care of the sickest of the sick. I love getting the ability to do that when it comes around. The same as you cops and your adrenaline rushes. What are you doing home anyways?”

“I’m off today, decided to take it and be lazy.”

You looked suspiciously at your roommate. It was unlike him to just take a lazy day. He didn’t do that. But, you dismissed it. You met Deacon in school. He was in his BLET program while you were in paramedic school. Your classes trained together several times and you two simply became close. There was never a specific rhyme or reason other than your spirits meshed well together. You two began hanging out while in school grew extremely close. You started working in the same county which meant you ran a lot of calls together. You were broken hearted when Deacon left to go to a SWAT academy and advance his career with special training, but when he returned, the two of you picked up right where you left off as if there had been no hiatus. After several failed relationships on both of your parts, the two of you decided to move in together. The relationship between the two of you had been platonic, however, you couldn’t help but notice that things had recently become rather flirtatious between you two.

“What are your plans for today?” Deacon asked you, looking over the rim of his coffee cup.

“I hadn’t necessarily made any.”

“Hang out with me?” “And what makes you so special that I would spend my empty day with you?” You teased.

You took a bite of your cereal and Deacon feigned a hurt look.

“You know you’ve missed me these past few weeks that we’ve barely seen each other.”

You paused and thought about it. He wasn’t wrong. Your time together lacked in quantity, but it had made up in quality. You would catch Deacon eyeing you in passing and even more noticeable was when you ran calls together. He was always more than willing to help you out with your patients and you always found him close to you in the back of the ambulance. Granted, some calls didn’t allow for personal space for anyone involved – personnel or patient, but the vibe with your roommate was… different.

He began walking around your house together in a towel after showers as opposed to the shorts and shirt he used to put on. He would playfully tickle you or grace his fingers across your arms or waist. He would snapchat you pictures of him in his uniform while on duty and you couldn’t deny that he looked delectable. He knew it. You knew it. He knew that you knew it. So you began returning the favors in returned pictures in your own uniform – occasionally in your undershirt with the best angle of your cleavage.

You couldn’t remember when you two began spiraling into the friends with benefits status that was inevitable. The only thing? You hadn’t gotten the benefits yet. It didn’t take long to convince yourself that spending your day off with Deacon may not be a bad idea after all.

“Fine, but only if I get to pick the movie we watch.”

Deacon winked and pointed a finger at you, “Promise it will be a scary movie so you’ll snuggle up to me, bury your face in my neck, and pretend you’re scared?”

You raised both eyebrows at Deacon. He was being rather forward today. Not that you minded.

As you snuggled up onto the couch with him, you caught a hint of bourbon on his breath.

“What’s got you so suddenly brave today?” You asked him, poking his bottom lip with your finger, hinting that you smelled the alcohol on his breath.

“Man can’t enjoy a drink on his day off?”

You felt him snake his fingers up underneath the hem of your t-shirt. He squeezed your hip.

You mimicked his behavior and teased his lower abdominal muscles with your fingertips underneath of his shirt. His moan at your touch was not lost on you.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “Have I struck a nerve?”

“Not yet,” he teased, “Gotta keep going to find it.”

His voice was nearly an octave deeper as he watched you watch your hand disappear underneath of his shirt.

You didn’t stop until you reached his pec. You teased his nipple with your fingertips and giggled when you noticed his breath hitch.

“What’s so funny?” He asked sensually.

“Such a big… strong… man, so easily unraveled with just…” you softly trailed your hand from one side of his chest to the other, “one… simple… touch.”

He inhaled sharply. “Not just any touch.”

“Yeah?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Yeah…”

He suddenly wrapped his hand around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure, pushing you back on the couch as he climbed on top of you. He lowered his face to yours and you were slightly disappointed when he didn’t immediately kiss you.

He spoke as he exhaled, his lips meeting yours as soon as the last word left his mouth –

“Only by your touch.”

#christina alonso #dominic luca #david kay #hondo harrelson #david deacon kay #jay harrington #imagine #jim street #swat #swat cbs #hondo #tan #victor #victor tan #deac #chris #facfiction #writing #deacon x reader

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bordysbae · 1 year

Note

could you do 1. "you're the only one who can calm him down" with Alex Turcotte :)

“the fight”

alex turcotte x reader

“oh my god! i cant see, whats happening?!” you exclaim, immediately panicking as you see your boyfriend down on the ice throwing tons of punches at the opposing player. his mother is right by your side in the box. she’s freaking out as well, but not nearly as much as you. she’s seen alex get into many fights over his lifetime of playing hockey, but it’s still scary no matter what. the ref finally intervenes, and alex is taken off of the ice. as your angered boyfriend is taken off, he’s still yelling things at both the ref and the other player. seeing this, you let out a sigh, and so do both of his parents. “oh alex, what happened?” you ask under your breath, as if he can even hear you.

a few minutes later someone comes to your guys’ box, and requests that you come with him to see alex. “am i even allowed back there?” you ask meanwhile frantically trying to keep up with the man’s pace. he nods his head before answering, “yeah, especially in this case. he keeps saying something about how ‘y/n is the only one who can calm me down,’” the man says. a little smile lifts your lips after heading that statement. you then show your badge to the security and he lets you both in, leading you to where alex is. he’s pacing around the lockeroom, hands in his hair while also covering his face.

“alex? are you okay?”’you ask hesitantly, afraid his anger will lash out again. you know he would never try to hurt you, or honestly even yell at you, but sometimes people have no control of their emotions. immediately he feels a touch of relief when he sees your face, but when he senses the smallest bit of fear in your tone, a wave of guilt crushes him.

“y/n, hi,” he says, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. his gear doesn’t smell the best, but it’s not at all the right time to make a joke. of course you hug him back, and immediately feel the tension in his muscles. a clear sign something wasn’t right. “alex love, what happened out there?” you timidly ask, afraid of what he might say.

“he slammed me into the boards so hard, but when i slam him back he starts punching me!? so now i look like the bad guy cause people only really saw me punching him! but the weird thing is, i just couldn’t stop? it’s like something overtook me,” he states, clearly embarrassed at his overreaction on the ice.

“hey, don’t be embarrassed al. you were angry, and that’s okay. you’ve gotten injured too many times and you’re finally back in the nhl, so of course you’re gonna be upset if someone risks hurting you again. just maybe don’t hurt them back next time, just let it go and be cool. the last thing you need is to get sat out for the next few games,” you say, and alex groans knowing that you’re right.

“i’m probably already gonna get sat out after all that shit i pulled. god, why am i so fucking stupid?!” he angrily chuckles, pacing the room once again. you grab onto his left wrist, and roll up the sleeve of his jersey. you trace the roman numerals that are tattooed into his skin, “alex, you’re not dumb. remember what your grandfather used to say?” you ask, still tracing the roman numerals he got inked for his grandfather.

“there’s no dumb people, just dumb decisions,” he mumbles, annoyed that you’re always right.

“exactly. you’re not dumb nor are you stupid. you just made a dumb decision. that’s it. now, since you’re out for the rest of the game, why don’t you go cool off in the shower and i’ll meet you after the game, okay?”

“yeah, okay. thank you y/n. i love you so so much. you always know how to calm me down,” he smiles, pressing a soft but intimate kiss onto your temple.

“i love you more, al.”

#alex turcotte #alex turcotte x reader #alex turcotte blurb #alex turcotte imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine

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mydearlybeloathed · 20 days

Note

Can we get a pert 3 of hindsight/foresight? They were just too perfect to not ask

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: finals approach at new rome university, but the restful break turns out to be the opposite after a little... realization.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: leo valdez x erischild!fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐚/𝐧: ask and ye shall recieve! someday im def going to go back and edit the first two parts, maybe add onto the first one, but for right now here's what comes after foresight!

masterlist

The baristas at the local coffeeshop had grown used your presence, and took to ignoring your frantic study sessions spent in the corner of the little shop. You hadn’t had to stand to order more coffee in weeks—they felt your stare and happily brought you more, leaving you to your notes.

You were so grateful for their encouragement as finals closed in, although Reyna couldn’t say the same.

She closed in like a hawk on a studious little mouse, disapproval written all over her face as she came up to your table and pushed your mug away from your reaching hand. You straightened up and shot her a glare, already knowing exactly who dared to disturb you.

“Reyna,” you grunted, as if you were facing some long-term enemy. She rolled her eyes and sat down acrosf from you.

“Y/N.” She parted the sea of notes to better face you. “You know I respect you.”

“Ah, yes, here’s the but.”

Reyna emphasized, “But you’re worrying several of your friends—me included.”

You attempted to avert your eyes by fiddling with your pencil. “I need to keep studying.”

“Then change your scenery. Drink some water. Or, dare I say it, take a break.” In all her coolness, Reyna was pleading with you now, genuinely concerned with how exhausted you were.

“You know I can’t,” you murmured as you met her gaze head on. “I need to pass, or this was all for nothing.”

If you couldn’t pass finals, then all the grit and bearing would be for nothing. All your doubts would be right. You couldn’t let that happen, no matter how much sleep it cost. New Rome University was your last chance at making something of yourself, and by the gods you would not let it slip through.

“Thank you for your concern,” you said sincerely. “But I’ll be fine. Just need to get through next week.”

She pressed her tongue to her cheek whilst you proceeded to ignore her and go back to studying. Reyna was never one to give up so easily, especially not with your health on the line. Luckily, she had one more card up her sleeve.

“Leo said the same thing, you know.” Your eyes darted up from your notes, and Reyna knew she had you in her trap. “Honestly, he looked worse off than you. I didn’t know somebody could have eyebags as bad as his. Of course, he was chugging energy drinks, not coffee.”

Your hands stilled at your sides, thoughtful now. A few more moments passed like that, with Reyna fighting off a smirk and you rolling the image of a suffering Leo around your mind. “Where is he?”

“Somewhere in his dorm,” she replied, standing. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be opposed to a distraction. Not if its you.”

Somewhere between realizing her trick and wodnering just what she meant by that, you started packing up your things, much to the baristas’ shock. Reyna shock them a smirk as she slipped outside.

Minutes later you were trudging through New Rome, eyes on the ground as you took the practices route to the University, right up to the familiar boys dormitory built up on the far side of campus. You shoved open the doors and came face to face with a few students hanging around the lobby. Venus kids, if you remembered right.

“You seen Leo?” you asked, noting how your tone was deeper than usual. Maybe you did need sleep.

One of the girls among them hummed. “I think I saw him out on the patio.”

Thanking them quickly, you beelined back out the door, rounding the building and laying eyes on the marble octagon situated in the distance, surrounded by cool green grass. And on the picnic table at its center was a boy hunched over a series of books, just as you had been in the coffeeshop.

You slung your backpack to one shoulder as you approached, hopping up onto the marble and grinning when Leo startled. He blinked up at you, trying so very hard to seem awake, but you saw right through it.

“You look like shit,” you teased as you slid into the seat across from him, tossing your bag aside.

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes even as he forced down a yawn. “Yeah, yeah. Back at you.”

You tilted your head, still smiling, and lazily reached to tug his books away. Leo huffed and tried to claw them back, letting them slip in the end. You caught his eye then. “Wanna head inside? We can watch a movie.”

Leo sat back and passed a hand over his curls. “Did Reyna send you?”

“She all but kicked me out of the coffeeshop,” you mused.

“Out of Ambrosas?” he exclaimed, brows vaulted. “How will you ever survive?”

You took a moment to examine the many red bull cans scattered around. “Says the man who’s heart is bound to explode.”

“Touche.” Leo tried to return to his books, but he took a look around and felt his eyes crossing from overuse. “What movie?”

“The Hobbit?” you offered. Leo lit up slightly, his hands itching to toss all his things in his bag.

“... Okay, but just the first one.”

As expected, you didn’t stop at just the first one, and as the credits rolled on the third movie, you glanced over at the window of Leo’s dorm to find the moon strung up in the sky. The pair of you were alone, wrapped up in blankets atop Leo’s bed. His roommate, some Apollo legacy called Sam, ahd taken one stpe inside before he scoffed and headed right back out. It was very weird.

It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that you and Leo were not only bundled in blankets, but also wrapped around one another, his head rested on your collarbone as his arms hugged your middle.

On that thought…

You peered down at him, swiping away some of his curls to find his eyes fallen shut, soft breathes leaving him. A smile graced your lips as you settled further down under the covers. His roommate’s behavior really was odd, but at least it left you and Leo alone.

In his room.

In his bed.

Together.

The thought left you all warm and you found yourself curling around him as the threat of sleep grew larger by the second. Sam was just being weird, you dismissed.

Just a minute had gone by when Leo rustled slightly, his hand grazing your skin as your shirt rode up and—oh.

Oh.

That’s probably why Sam left in a hurry. Heat creeped up your face and it had nothing to do with the human heater at your side. But why would Sam ever think that? You and Leo were only just friends, nothing more, nothing less than good ol’ buddies—

Your face was flaming at this point. Oh. Oh no no no.

Leo sleeped soundly and awoke pleasantly, ready to begin a day of studying hopefully by your side, only to find you ducking your head into the covers of his bed with a prolonged groan. You flopped around a bit longer, avoiding his eye and touch, and mumbled something about getting breakfast. He followed you out of bed, watching as you stumbled for his bathroom where you kept a spare toothbrush handy.

“Weird,” he murmured, not noticing how you squeaked when he shut the bathroom door behind him and joined you at the sink.

You were clinging to sanity. This was just what you needed. Finals just a week away, and you still had feelings for Leo Valdez! Running hand over your face, you glanced up to find him offering you your toothbrush, his own stuck out of his mouth. You took it wordlessly, ignoring how wonderfully cute he was.

You needed to make some calls, preferably before you combusted into flames.

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #hoo x reader #pjoverse #rick riordan #leo valdez x reader #annabeth chase #percabeth #hazel levesque #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #platonic x reader #reyna #leo #reyna avila ramirez arellano

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odinsblog · 2 months

Text

For a very long time mainstream media has been conflating the word “moderate” with the word “conservative,” and moving the Overton Window further to the right.

And at the same time, the words “leftist” and “radical” and “extremists” are also being conflated, but that’s a discussion for another time.

Liz Cheney is not a moderate. Chris Christie is not a moderate. Nikki Haley definitely is not a moderate. I guess it’s nice that they are finally calling out Trump, but they all voted for Trump (twice!) and none of them are good people. (How do I know they aren’t good people? Because they spent most of their adult lives and careers supporting harmful conservative policies that intentionally target women and poor/Black/disabled/LGBTQ people to harm.)

The same goes for pundits like Ana Navarro and the other MSNBC “former” Republicans and Republican strategists who don’t like Trump anymore, but are still “proud conservatives.” They support most of Trump’s policies even if they don’t support Trump anymore. And Nikki Haley has even said that if the choice in November comes down to Biden or Trump, she believes that it’s who is Biden the bigger threat to America. (source)

And Nikki Haley has repeatedly said that she would pardon Trump, so that’s another big NOAP for me.

Look, I understand that neoliberals and conservative leaning Democrats have a tendency to kick left + kiss right, but people have GOT to learn that just because a conservative might occasionally do something right, like oppose Trump, that does not magically transform them into good people™ worth elevating or supporting.

One last thing: I’ve seen a lot of Biden supporters get all caught up in their feelings because Jon Stewart made fun of (gasp) Biden’s age. Listen: WE are not the ones who are in a cult! It is 100% okay for voters to joke about and criticize people in power. It’s MAGA who cannot criticize their dear leader, remember? It's the other guys, THE CULTISTS, who cannot accept even the lightest of criticisms.

“But Republicans will use it against us”

Yes, Republicans will use anything and everything against us, whether we said it or not. That’s what they dO. They lie, make shit up and try to use literally anything—true or false, good or bad—against non-Trump supporters. Being good and honest and not saying anything Republicans disagree with will not gain you any votes with Republicans.

Look, Idgaf about what Republicans and other people on the right think. About anything. Idc. Their opinions don’t matter and they aren’t going to change who I vote for in November 2024. I’m not worried about trying to change their hearts and minds, because they’re heartless and mindless.

At the end of the day, I dO think that msm tends to run with rightwing narratives, but once again, none of that foolishness will change my vote.

Put your grownup pants on and don’t get caught up in the drama.

#politics #nikki haley #republicans #donald trump #moderates #overton window #desi lydic #the daily show #centrism #centrists

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cleostoohot · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬 🐈

what is a mental diet when it comes to manifesting? a mental diet is when you pay attention to your thoughts and flip thoughts that go against your desire/thoughts you no longer resonate with. the better you are with canceling out those thoughts, the faster your desire comes to fruition because you don’t have those opposing thoughts taking such a toll on you.

────────────────────────

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

i absolutely love this one. try to catch the thought as fast as you can and flip it. don’t even finish the thought. don’t give that bitch a chance. this one is so effective because it quickly trains your mind to not even think what’s being canceled anymore. early in my manifesting journey i did this. on the first day my opposing thoughts were so bad but by day 2- the opposing thoughts decreased by 60% not even exaggerating. i had lost an inch off my waist too (i was manifesting my desired body)

𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝟑𝐱

i seen this on @babygothprincess‘s page. i think she created the technique herself. i’m not going to go too much into detail since she already did in her post. but, whenever you have an opposing thought, you flip it 3 times. example:

“i’ll never get the $500😔- wait the $500 is already mine. i always attract money easily and effortlessly. i’m so happy i got $500”

“𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧…”

this one is gold too 🙌🏽! if you ever think a thought from the ‘old’ reality, follow it with “i remember when blah blah blah” lemme just give y’all an example lol.

“why tf my ass so flat😒- i remember when i used to think my ass was so flat but now i’m thick as fuck!” i 💙 the i remember when technique because you’re treating the old story as a memory meaning that’s not how it is anymore, you have your desire now!

“𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠…”

my very own😌 i did a whole post on it here 🤲🏽 so i’m definitely not going into detail rn lol. long story short you just affirm “regardless of everything, _____” after.

“why isn’t my hair getting any healthier 🤧- nah regardless of everything i already have healthy, luscious hair” or “regardless of what i think or see, i have the hair i desire”

𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

i thought of this technique earlier this year and hyler actually made a video on it too. for some reason people were hating on hyler for bringing this technique to the internet but… i mean you’re literally gaslighting yourself into having your desire??? it’s better than gaslighting yourself saying you’re delusional and could never get your manifestation-

“i hate how tall i am😥- bish what? why tf did i even say that, i’m literally short as fuck. almost everybody i meet is taller than me what was i thinking?”

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

if you’re going to do this, i recommend doing it along with at least one of the techniques listed above. this is kind of like just a cherry 🍒 on top. at night or when you’re about to go to sleep, revise your day with affirmations like:

“all my thoughts were aligned with my desire”

“i’m so proud that i only had positive thoughts today”

so on and so on. the past is so easy to change since it’s really just a memory kept alive by you. so when you’re telling yourself that you only thought the right things, that’s what you will get evidence of. highly suggest doing this in SATS.

────────────────────────

this post is kind of dry and messy i’m sorry lol. but i got a lot of better stuff planned after this post so just bare with me ok? 😃 i’m new to dis ian true to it just yet 💀

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #neville goddard #ignore typos or incorrect grammar lols 🫥

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via-the-cryptid · 7 months

Note

Fun idea:

While living in the Treehouse, Snow Queen starts to mom Finn (And probably calls him Gunther? Who knows) because he is a kid, and she and Simon live there so obviously he has to be their son right? Now they are a family and Simon its never going to leave again.

Also Simon unwittingly starts to dad Finn around because he is Simon and he cant go around wthout adopting a child.

Finn feels a little weird because, while he already had Joshua and Margaret, these two are humans (Or in case of Betty, mostly human) and he doesnt know how to feel about it. His relationship with Simon could be extra awkward depending if the events of The Citadel already happened and Martin is already going around.

sir ma’am or mx you are a genius.

I’m thinking the Sugar Snow War takes place before Finn goes on his dad quest, so at this point he’s still under the impression that he’s the only human around… except for Simon, who they pulled out of an icicle a while ago and who they haven’t seen much of since he went to the Candy Kingdom. he used to visit a lot when he was in Wizard City, but after that he sort of went quiet. now he’s back, with the Snow Queen who’s utterly doting on him and seems very clingy, and with Marceline, who’s a mix of happy that her adoptive mom got her beloved back, and absolutely pissed that her ex tried to imprison said beloved for blackmail purposes and then went on to destroy her mom’s entire kingdom. Marceline leaves shortly after making sure that SQ and Simon will be good to stay at the treehouse (Jake said yes and what Jake says goes), but that just leaves them with Snow Queen, Simon, Finn, Jake, BMO, Shelby in the walls, and also Gunther, who keeps disappearing randomly (presumably to also be in the walls).

and then Finn comes down from i go stroom for breakfast the next morning, and Snow Queen has already set a place at the table for him next to the penguin and Simon is making pancakes, which is Weird, and Jake is already eating the pancakes, which isn’t as weird but it is a little odd that he’s not the one making them. apparently these two want to contribute to the household or something? Finn doesn’t really mind, the pancakes are good and Snow Queen is being pretty civil.

then it starts to get a little weirder.

she put snacks and a couple ice knives in his backpack before he went adventuring, ‘just in case’? she asked if he remembered his sword and said to have fun in the dungeon? she’s offering him life advice that is probably very illegal but not actually that bad? y’know what, maybe he will beset a wizard with penguins the next time they try to take his stuff. Magic Man has it coming, anyways.

it sort of reminds him of his mom — Jake’s mom first, but Finn’s mom, too. she’d done this sort of thing with a little less crazy and a little more sensibleness, but it’s the same gist anyways. it’s only when Snow Queen tries to fix his hair before putting his hat on him and calls him Gunther that he realises she’s trying to parent him.

and honestly, he doesn’t know that he’s really that opposed to it. sure, it’s kinda weird, but she’s not actually hurting anything. Simon’s been following her example to some degree, helping Finn with puzzles and artifacts, telling him about human stuff from the past, suggesting new tricks and games to try, but it doesn’t really feel like Joshua’s ‘tough love’. it’s something different, something Finn doesn’t really remember experiencing before — the closest thing he’s had to this is Jake, who’s definitely never been quite so parental about his worrying.

honestly, his only questions at this point are whether it would make Marceline his older sister if Snow Queen and Simon tried to adopt him (it would), and whether Jake is getting adopted too (he is).

(side note — Finn isn’t quite so messed up about Martin in this au because as soon as the events of the Citadel have played out, he walks himself straight over to the Snow Kingdom and lays on the floor until someone asks him what’s wrong, and then he gets to have Family Therapy with his third set of parents, since the first are half-unavailable and half-terrible, and the second are no longer around. He also gets to hold a penguin the entire time which is very therapeutic and does not leave him with the desire to rip Martin’s arm off.)

#adventure time #snow queen au #betty grof #simon petrikov #petrigrof #petrigrof role swap #found family #finn the human #jake the dog #marceline abadeer #princess bubblegum #answered asks

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msfcatlover · 1 year

Text

Yet more Reverse!Robins

(Calling back to my tags on this post, and one of the images from this one that live rent free in my brain.)

Joker gets bored torturing Jason on his own after a couple days, and sends out invites to all the other rogues (or at least, the ones he’s pretty sure won’t rat him out and end the fun) about a “surprise present” he’s working on for Batman. Steph has absolutely no interest involving herself in Joker’s nonsense, so she immediately throws it out and focuses on securing her area of the city to keep her people safe. She doesn’t think much more of it.

Six days later, Tim shows up at the door of one of her clubs. Not in costume, barely hiding his identity, hardly even armed (like, the bare minimum for walking around this part of town this late at night, and most of that is artfully hidden in his crutches & leg braces.) Aside from Damian or Bruce crashing the party to accuse Steph of stuff (that like 60% of the time she didn’t even do,) none of the Bats have ever approached Steph in an actual place of business before. She’s curious. She tells security to let him in, and show him to her table.

“Mr. Wayne,” Steph says, because fuck it, if Tim’s only going to mess up his hair and barely slap some concealer over the dark circles under his eyes, she isn’t gonna maintain his identity for him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tim shakes her hand, looks her dead in the eye, never glancing at her guards or flinching at his name. A proper little businessman, in a ratty band t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. “I need a favor.”

“You? Need a favor from me?”

“Yes.”

“The great Timothy Wayne?”

“I didn’t come here to play games.” Tim glares. “Yes, I need your help. Yes, it has to be you. Yes, I am out of other options. No, I am not above groveling—”

“Really?”

“Steph.”

“Don’t,” she growls back, “try to play this like we’re friends, Tim.”

Tim crosses his arms and scowls off to the side. “…Fine. We’ll keep it professional.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you on your knees.” Tim’s eye twitches as Steph takes a sip of her drink. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“I told you, need a favor,” Tim repeats.

“Well, that could be anything,” Steph says, rolling her eyes behind her mask.

“My little brother’s missing.”

Steph’s drink goes down the wrong way. She forces herself to swallow her cough. Steph clears her throat to mask it, and sets her drink back on the table.

Tim continues like he didn’t notice. “The police can’t find him. The Bats can’t find him. I have been leveraging every advantage I’ve got, but nobody has seen him in over a week—”

Ice slips down Steph’s spine as she remembers the invitation she’d thrown out right around a week ago.

“—but you have contacts they don’t.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I know you hate us, I know you…” His eyes flicker towards her guards. “…You’ve made your opinions very clear—”

“I should certainly hope so,” Steph mutters.

“—but whatever you think of me, or Bruce, or Cass, Duke, Damian, anybody, Jason’s innocent. He’s suffered enough.” Tim has a warning in his eyes: You’ve hurt him enough. Like she’d actually tried to kill the kid or something (if Steph wanted Jason dead, he’d be dead; honestly, she didn’t even leave any permanent damage. Her lesson was no harsher than anything any of them got on a bad patrol, she was just more open about the point she was making.) “He’s just a kid.”

“And yet, you keep letting him out into this city.”

Anger flashes across Tim’s face, but he visibly chokes it down. “I’m not having this conversation with you. This has nothing to do with Jason’s hobbies or field trips, or whether or not you approve of them. This is about a 15yr old kid, missing in Gotham City, following the biggest Arkham breakout in the last 10yrs. Are you going to help or not?”

Steph sighs, propping one elbow on the table and leaning on her fist. “What have you got for me?”

“Jason snuck out for a party nine days ago—the night of the breakout.” (Translation: Jason was in uniform, probably on patrol.) “We have a system where even if he doesn’t want Bruce to know what he’s doing, Jason still calls me to check in every 2hrs. He checked in a little before 2, because he said he was about to be ‘really busy’ and didn’t want me to worry. I told him to go home. He told me he’d be fine, that he wasn’t anywhere near the mayhem.” Tim’s expression is flat, dead. “He didn’t check in again. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since. There have been no ransom demands. Last sighting was outside of Genevieve’s in Burnley.”

The invitation arrived six days ago exactly.

Steph needs to go. Steph needs—Steph needs to find that letter, she can’t remember if it had an address or a time, she can’t—

“I’ll pay whatever you want,” Tim tells her, seemingly unaware of how Steph’s breath is caught in her lungs (remembering what it was like to be 16, tiny, and at the whims of a madman. Eight full days. Did Steph suffer that long? She doesn’t think so, but the time all blurs together under the pain…) “Money is obviously no object. Weapons? Name them. Tech? I’ll build it for you myself. I can wipe your record clean. I can keep the Bats off your back. I can—” Tim swallows. “My balance isn’t the best anymore, but if you want me on my knees, I can beg. If you need me to demonstrate my gratefulness or if you need someone to hurt, I—”

“Oh my god, STOP!” The table wobbles as Steph jumps to her feet, nearly spilling her ginger ale—but then, she doesn’t really want it anymore. Her stomach is one giant knot, and she’s really regretting those onion rings she had earlier.

“Please,” Tim says, soft and far more earnest than Steph can deal with right now. “He’s my little brother. I… it’s my fault he thought he could go out like this. If there’s anything you can do…”

Steph needs to get to her office. She needs to find that note, and if she can’t find it, she needs to find Joker’s delivery boy so she can beat the answer out of him. She steps away from the table. “I’ll get back to you.”

Tim grabs Steph’s wrist as she passes by. “Please—”

“I said, I’ll get back to you,” Steph snaps, yanking her arm out of his grip. She looks away from Tim’s wounded expression. “I can’t do anything if you’re dragging me down.”

Tim’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you.”

“…You owe me. Whether I find him or not.”

“Thank you.”

Steph walks away. She doesn’t look back.

(She shoots Joker in the throat, grabs the nearest heavy object—curved & metal, but much else doesn’t register—and beats the clown’s head in while screaming insults in League dialect. She strips down to her suit’s under layer to keep Joker’s blood away from Jason, tossing her gloves away without caring about fingerprints, and kneels down in front of Jason, making herself as small as possible. She undoes the bonds, checking his injuries, and when Jason collapses into Steph’s arms, she holds on. Steph cradles Jason in her arms, helps him rehydrate from her water bottle, and apologizes in every language she knows for not being there for him sooner.)

(Without the mask or the armor, with Steph’s hair pulling wild & sweaty out of its braid, she doesn’t look nearly so much like the villain who hurt him before. Jason wonders if he’s dead or dreaming, to finally have the hero he looked up to for so much of his childhood decide he’s worth saving after all.)

(Steph would go to the ends of the earth to protect him from that point forward. When questioned, she just mutters something about not “letting all that work go to waste.”)

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