#i'm at risk of having a heart attack right now.

[toltel]

I never realized how badly I wanted to keep living until there was a real, tangible threat in my life that could potentially prevent me from doing so.

Stay well everyone, and thanks for sticking around. I'll be back soon.

ō chichelh siyam ts'ithome xwela telo wayel.

[the-other-art-blog]

Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."

The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."

Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.

ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN

He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.

He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.

And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹

He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.

He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!

He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.

He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.

He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.

He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:

Then with Pen...

He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.

He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.

The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.

Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.

He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.

He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.

HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!

Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.

You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.

Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.

And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.

Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.

I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.

(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)

[ms-demeanor]

On insurance: I still live with my parents and don't know a lot yet about the sorts of things adults usually have to spend money on. I've always been skeptical of things like insurance and credit cards because it seems to me they wouldn't be selling that if they didn't expect to make money from it. I talked to my cousin a while ago about credit cards and basically came to the conclusion that they do that because they're betting on the customer getting sloppy and letting their debts stack up, and the way you beat that and get money from credit card companies is just by being careful.

I'm a little more confused about insurance though because it seems much more straightforwardly like a gamble they will simply not take if it won't pay off for them. Like, you don't go to a casino because every game they play at a casino is one they've done the math on and have determined that statistically most people will lose money on most of the time. Is insurance not kinda the same? Where they estimate the risk and then charge you an amount calculated to make sure it probably won't be worth it for you?

I know if you have a car you legally need car insurance so everyone knows you can pay for another car if you crash into someone, and I gather that here in the US at least health insurance companies have some kinda deal with hospitals so that the prices go down or something, and there's a reason I don't fully understand why not having health insurance is Really Bad. But we get to pet insurance, or like when I buy a concert ticket and it offers ticket insurance in case I can't make it to the show, and surely if they thought they were gonna lose money on that they just wouldn't sell it, right? Or they'd raise the price of it until it became worth the risk that something bad actually will happen? Wouldn't it only be worth it to buy insurance if you know something the insurance company doesn't?

So the deal is that most people don't use their insurance much, and often insurance companies will incentivize doing things that will make you use your insurance less.

So, for example, you can get a discount on car insurance if you have multiple cars because people who insure multiple cars are more likely to be responsible drivers (the ability to pay for multiple cars stands in as a representation of responsibility here). The longer you go without an accident, the lower your premiums get because that means that you are not costing your insurance company anything but you are paying into the system. The car insurance company's goal is to have the most responsible, safest drivers who never get into car accidents because they can predict (roughly) how much they're going to have to pay out to their customers and they want the number they pay out to be lower than what's paid in. So they try to discourage irresponsible drivers by raising their rates and encourage responsible drivers by giving them discounts.

Health insurance companies often do the same thing: I recently got a gift card from my health insurance company because I had a visit from a nurse who interviewed me about my overall health and made sure I had stable blood pressure and access to medications. It is literally cheaper for my insurance company to give me a $100 giftcard and hire a nurse to visit me than it is for me to go to my doctor's office a couple of times, so they try to make sure that their customers are getting preventative care and are seeing inexpensive medical professionals regularly so that they don't have to suddenly see very expensive professionals after a long time without care.

Insurance in the US has many, many, many problems and should be replaced with socialized healthcare for a huge number of reasons but right now, because it is an insurance-based system, you need to have insurance.

We're going to use Large Bastard as an example.

Large Bastard had insurance when he had his heart attack and when he needed multiple organs transplanted. He didn't *want* to be paying for insurance, because he thought he was healthy enough to get by, but I insisted. His premium is four hundred dollars a month, and his out of pocket maximum is eight thousand dollars a year. That means that every year, he pays about $5000 whether he uses his insurance or not, and if he DOES need to use the insurance, he pays the first $8k worth of care, so every year his insurance has the possibility of costing him thirteen thousand dollars.

The bill for his bypass surgery was a quarter million dollars.

The bill for his transplant was over one and a half million dollars.

His medication each month is around six hundred dollars. He needs to have multiple biopsies - which are surgeries - each year, and each one costs about twenty thousand dollars.

Without health insurance, he would very likely be dead, or we would be *even more* incapable of paying for his healthcare than we are right now. He almost ditched his insurance because he was a healthy-seeming 40-year-old and he didn't think he'd get sick. And then he proceeded to be the sickest human being I've ever known personally who did not actually die.

Health insurance costs a lot of money. It costs less money for people who are young and who are expected to be healthy. But the thing is, everybody pays into health insurance, and very, very few people end up using as much money for their medical expenses as Large Bastard did. There are a few thousand transplants in the US ever year, but there are hundreds of millions of people paying for insurance.

This ends up balancing out (sort of) so that people who pay for insurance get a much lower cost on care if they need it, hospitals get paid for the care they provide, and the insurance company makes enough money to continue to exist. Part of the reason that people don't like this scheme is because "insurance company" could feasibly be replaced by "government" and it would cost less and provide a better standard of care, but again, with things as they are now, you need to have insurance. Insurance companies are large entities that are able to negotiate down costs with the providers they work with, you are not. If you get hit by a car you may be able to get your medical bills significantly reduced through a number of means, but you're very unlikely to get your bills lower than the cost of insurance and a copay.

Because of the Affordable Care Act, which is flawed but which did a LOT of good, medical insurance companies cannot refuse to treat you because of preexisting conditions and also cannot jack up your premiums to intolerable rates - since Large Bastard got sick, he has had the standard price increases you'd expect from aging, but nothing like the gouging you might expect from an insurance company deciding you're not worth it.

Pet insurance works on the same model. Millions of people pay for the insurance, thousands of people end up needing it, a few hundred end up needing a LOT of it, and the insurance companies are able to make more money than they hand out, so they continue to exist. This is part of why it's less expensive to get pet insurance for younger animals - people who sign up puppies and kittens are likely to be paying for a very long time and are likely to provide a lot of preventative care for their animals, so they're a good bet for the insurer. Animals signed up when they are older are more likely to have health problems (and pet insurance CAN turn animals away for preexisting conditions) and are going to cost the insurance companies more, so they cost more to enroll (and animals over a certain age or with certain conditions may be denied entirely).

This weighing risk/reward is called actuarial science, and the insurance industry is built on it.

But yeah it's kind of betting. The insurance company says "I'll insure ten thousand dogs and I'm going to bet that only a hundred of them will need surgery at some point in the next year" and if they're correct, they make money and the dogs who need surgery get their surgery paid for out of the premiums from the nine thousand nine hundred dogs who didn't need surgery.

Your assessment of credit is correct: credit card companies expect that you will end up carrying a balance, and that balance will accrue interest, and the interest is how they make the money.

And it is EASY to fuck up financially as an adult. REALLY EASY. But you are still likely to need a good credit score so you will need a credit history. That means that the correct way to use a credit card is to have a card, but not carry a balance.

To do this, never buy anything on the card that you can't afford. In order to avoid needing the card for emergencies, start an emergency fund that is at least 3 months of your total pay *before* you get a credit card. That seems like a *lot* of savings to have, but from the perspective of someone who has had plenty of mess-ups, it's a lot easier to build up a $10k emergency fund than it is to pay off a $10k credit card debt.

If you don't understand how interest works on credit cards, or why a 10k savings is different than a 10k debt, here are some examples working with $10k of debt, 23% interest (an average-ish rate for people with average credit), and various payments.

With that debt and that interest, here's how much it costs and how long it would take to pay off with $200 as the monthly payment:

Fourteen years, and it would cost you about twenty four thousand dollars in interest, for a total amount paid of about thirty four thousand dollars.

To save $10k at $200 a month would take four years and two months.

Here's the same debt at $300 a month:

4.5 Years and it costs about six grand (again, just in interest - sixteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at three hundred dollars a month would take just under three years.

Here's the same debt at $400 a month:

3 years, about $4000 dollars (fourteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at $400 a month takes just over two years.

The thing is, with all of these models you're going to end up paying one way or another. Insurance vs out of pocket is you weighing the risk of losing a fair amount of money by signing up but not using the system, or potentially losing a catastrophic amount of money by not signing up.

For credit cards they really only work if you know you're never going to need them for an emergency, because an emergency is what you're not going to be able to pay off right away. I didn't have an emergency fund when Large Bastard had his heart attack and needed surgery, or when we moved between states suddenly, or when we moved between states suddenly AGAIN and needed to pay storage costs, or when Large Bastard needed a transplant, or when Tiny Bastard got in a fight with my MiL's dog, and the fact that I didn't have an emergency fund is still costing me a lot of money.

So, young folks out there: what's the takeaway?

Get insurance. Get the best deal possible, which usually ends up being the one you sign up for early. You may think you can let it ride without insurance, but man in the six months between when I graduate college (and lost my school insurance) and when care kicked in after 90 days at my job I got electrocuted and needed to go to the ER. If that hadn't been a worker's comp payout I would have had thousands of dollars in bills. Something could happen. You could break your leg, you could get hit by a car, you could suddenly find out that you actually have heart disease at twenty, you could develop cancer. Have insurance, you need insurance. You legally need car insurance in the US, and you financially need health insurance. If you have a pet, I think it's a good idea for them to have pet insurance.

Credit cards are not for emergencies, they are not for fun, they are not for buying things that are just ever so slightly out of your budget, they are for taking advantage of the credit card company and managing to get by in a system that demands you have a credit score. ONLY put purchases on your credit card that you already have cash for. Before you get a credit card, build up an emergency savings so that you aren't tempted to put emergency charges on your card.

If you DO end up with an interest-bearing debt, pay it off as fast as possible because letting it linger costs you a LOT of money in the long run.

Stay the fuck away from tobacco and nicotine products they are fucking terrible for you, they are fucking expensive, and they are not worth it put the vapes down put the zyns down put the cigarettes down I will begin manifesting in your house physically i swear to fuck. Knock that shit off and put the cash that you'd be spending on nicotine into a savings account.

Take care, sorry everything sucks, I promise that in some ways it actually sucks less than it did before and we're working on trying to make it suck even less but it's taking a while.

[scarletcomalies]

may i request something??. nat having f!r in all fours, taking her w her strap. all soft, vulnerable. please? need her domestic possessive side (you can create a plot if you're up to, but that's pretty much it!!)

all of you, all of me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count: 1,608

Warnings: 18+ content, strap-on usage (R. Receiving), fluff.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Hope you enjoy <3

After a dangerous yet successful mission, Natasha Romanoff returned home to you, her loving partner.

Your thumbs gently ran over the once smooth skin of your beloved, now stained by a few scrapes and bruises to which she gave very little importance.

The woman before you was immune to any stimuli, except your caresses, or you as a whole, for that matter. It was obvious from the way she sighed and closed her eyes as soon as you had placed your hands on her cheeks.

After each life-risking mission, the only thing she needed was to feel your touch, and she wouldn't let some silly superficial wounds to deprive her of this delight.

"Oh, baby," you cooed, tracing a path with your hands from her cheeks to her ears, ending at her red hair. It was tangled, and you could even feel the powdery texture of dirt within. "Would you like me to run you a hot bath? Or would you prefer me to bring the first aid kit? Or would you rather rest?"

"Don't 'baby' me," Natasha grumbled, pulling you closer and wrapping her hands around your waist. "I'm not fragile, I don't need to rest," her tone indicating irritation, as if it was an insult that you simply offered to give her the care she deserved after such hard work. “I just want you, okay?” She added lowly.

You hummed disapprovingly, scratching her scalp in circles to soothe her usual high-defense demeanor. She rolled her eyes slightly, and threw her head back so your hands could continue to run through her scarlet locks.

"You're like a kitten," you commented with a chuckle. "A kitten that needs a bath, a massage, and a good night's sleep."

"I don't need any of that, you know I've had worse," she protested, stubbornness shining through. And it's true, Natasha's been through worse. Much, much worse. "What I need is to get you out of these clothes in the next five minutes...—" she stated, her lips moving to kiss your neck as her hands gripped your hips, pushing you tighter against her.

"Whatever makes my love feel better," you agreed, and it was your turn to tilt your head back to give her more access to that area, to let her slowly give in to the intoxicating need for more of you.

Natasha had given you a fair share of small heart attacks whenever she returned unexpectedly from missions at the most ungodly, unpredictable hours known to human kind. The first time, you had given her a bruise on her torso when you felt an extra weight on your shared bed, thinking someone had broken in.

It took some time for you to become accustomed to the fact that an additional weight no longer signified danger, but it rather indicated the return of your partner from another successful mission.

"I want to touch you," she pleaded, mewled against your ear.

"Well, nothing's stopping you," you whispered, your voice full of desire.

"Damn right!"

One of the things that characterized your relationship with the redhead was her ability to elicit a strong physical response from you, regardless of whether you had been sleeping, or had experienced a rough day, she just had to say the word, and that was sufficient to prompt a readiness on your part to comply.

Natasha's hands exerted pressure on your shoulders, guiding your back against the matress. She observed your body from an arm's distance, her eyes tracing the outline of your skin.

"You have no fucking idea how badly I've longed for this," she murmured.

Her lips captured yours for the first time in three weeks, her tongue exploring your mouth passionately. Said kiss was deep and hungry, chanelling all the longing that had built up during her absence. Her hands desperately traced the contours of your skin beneath your shirt, roaming up and down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

As the kiss intensified, Natasha nibbled at your bottom lip, pulling it gently between her teeth before releasing it with a soft pop, proceeding to begin a journey southward, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. She paused at your pulse point, sucking the sensitive spot, and in consequence, eliciting a soft moan from you.

Her hands, meanwhile, had found their way to the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing it upwards. As more of your skin was exposed, the redhead's kisses followed, intending to cover every inch of your upper body with her touch.

She paused for a moment, looking up at you with a brief vulnerability.

"I've missed this," she whispered, her voice raspy with need. "And I've missed you."

With a gentle but quick maneuver, Natasha gently turned you onto your stomach, her hands caressing your back as she did so. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs.

When the fabric pooled at your ankles, her hands returned to your hips. She leaned down, pressing a trail of kisses along your exposed skin, from the small of your back up to your shoulder blades.

"You're beautiful," she murmured against your skin, her breath warm and even comforting in comparison to the already present winter. "So perfect,” she added, as she lifted your hips to position you on all fours.

Natasha sat back on her heels, her eyes never daring to leave your ready body as she slowly began to undress. She started with her sweatshirt, pulling it off to reveal her toned abdomen and the simple black bra underneath. Her fingers then moved to the clasp behind, unhooking it with ease as the garment fell down.

Subsequently, she stood up, taking out of her pants, letting them pool at her feet before stepping out of them. Her underwear followed, sliding down her toned legs to join the rest of her discarded clothing on the floor.

Now fully naked, Natasha stood before you, her soft skin adorned with a few bruises and scratches. Perhaps it was wrong to admire the marks of such physical exertions such as her soul-draining missions, but there was something undeniably magnetic about the way she wore those bruises with pride.

She allowed you a moment to appreciate the sight of her, a small smirk playing on her lips at the obvious hunger you displayed shamelessly.

She then reached for a strap-on dildo from the bedside drawer, and fastened it around her hips, your all-time favorite black silicone perking up and adding to her already alluring form. And so, like a lioness eyeing her prey, she positioned herself behind you.

She started slowly, easing the toy into your hole with gentle, shallow thrusts. Your body welcomed the intrusion, already primed and prepared due to her earlier teasing.

Her hands then gripped your hips firmly as she began to thrust with more force, each movement driving the toy deeper. The room filled with the sound of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

"Mine, mine, mine," she remarked accompanied by each thrust, making you cry out in response.

They became deeper, more forceful, each movement causing waves of pleasure to drown you more and more, threatening to leave you breathless and defeated. The only sound present in the room was that rhythmic, familiar one of skin meeting skin.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" You cried out, followed by high-pitched gasps.

Your eyes were shut tight, your hands gripping the bedsheets with such force your knuckles turned white, anchoring you to reality.

Your back arched involuntarily, pushing you further onto Natasha, seeking more, always more. The clenching on your walls, and the tension on your core built to an almost unbearable level, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

Hers, hers, hers. Utterly and completely hers. With each thrust, each caress, each burning kiss, she once again branded you as her own.

“Nat! M’ gonna…” You weren't able to finish the sentence, for your body went rigid, as the pleasure of release overcame you.

Nevertheless, her hips continued to move, albeit slower and gentler as she helped you ride out your orgasm.

Her lips found the sensitive skin of your back, trailing soft kisses along your spine. This moment, this connection with you, was what she had craved during every lonely night on during her mission.

The feeling of your skin against hers, tte sound of your voice, your addictive scent that was uniquely you, it all reminded her of why she fought so hard to come back home in the first place.

As the aftershocks subsided, you collapsed onto your back, and Natasha took the opportunity to snuggle against you, the last bit of energy gone.

She had the presence of mind to be slightly embarrassed by how quickly and intensely you'd managed to affect her, excessively so, if she was being honest. But she was too drained, too satisfied to care much about it.

"Feeling better, baby?" You asked, your voice soft and filled with affection. Your fingers traced lazy patterns on her back, soothing and filled with tenderness.

Instead of a verbal response, Natasha managed a weak nod against your skin.

Her hands moved languidly, cupping your breasts in a delicate manner that contrasted with her earlier fervor. She let out a contented sigh as she settled her face more firmly between them, nuzzling against your soft skin. She could perfectly fall asleep right there and then, all spent and completely at peace.

Natasha pressed a soft kiss to your chest, right above your beating heart. It was a wordless expression of gratitude, of love, of coming home. No matter where her missions took her, no matter what dangers she faced, you would always be her sanctuary, her safe haven in a world of disaster.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I've been thinking about a pit assumed mermaid Danny so long. Like the GIW gets their hands on Danny and Danny ends up running away after being dissected and lands right into one of the Lazarus pits not the one that the league of assassin has and he ends up finding out that all of the pits are connected to each other so he uses them to like you know travel around and not be stuck in one place while healing. Damien standing by the pits without being supervised though something down there like just a child being curious he been here is a grumbling thank you. After a while Damien and Danny just get a big brother little sibling relationship and Damian when he leaves to go to his dad is like I promise to come back to save you Free you from the Lazarus pits. Couple years later after Damien established himself as Robin and a barrel agent with his family Damien's always been talking about going back and saving his friend Danny and the rest of the Batfamily is just convinced that Danny's like I'm imaginary friend. So when Damien gets kidnapped by the League of assassins and they're all getting ready to go back home Damian just walked up to the Lazarus pits and goes Daddy I'm here to save you you can come out now then it starts rumbling and outcomes this giant electric glowing green eyes mermaid being like Oh Damian you came back. Sorry for the rambling it's just that I really been thinking about this idea also I love your works.

"Robin! Where are you going!?"

Damian ignores Richard's call. He knows they should be running to the exit where Drake or Todd should fly around with the escape helicopter. He also knows they don't have time to make detours because if they missed that window of escape, the League would not allow them a second chance.

Damian knows. But this is the closest he's gotten to Danny since he was sent away. Now that he knows better, now that he is aware of just how horrible Grandfather and his lot really were, he couldn't just leave his friend here.

Every day that passed, Danny was at risk of being discovered, and who knew what the League of Assassins would want to do to him?

He needed to get him out.

Tonight, Danny was coming to Gotham with him, one way or another.

"Robin, we don't have time for this!"

"I know! I know, but I can't just leave him!" he shouted back, breaking into a sprint down familiar hallways. He dodged a sword swing, tucking and rolling between the legs of an assassin. He twists mid-landing to throw in a Scorpio kick to the head.

He only waits long enough to hear the man grunt. Damian is running away even before the thump of the body hits the ground. He's so close.

"Robin! Nightwing! We're fighting them off, but we can't hold the position for long," Drake shouts into the com that Richard had given him. "We need to do the extraction in two minutes or we're all going to be trapped here!"

He wants to shout at them but can't waste even a second. Damian forces himself to push faster and ignore the burn in his legs as he rounds down the last hallway, attacking the special guards at the gate of the pits.

Unlike the rest of the castle, these two are some of the best the league offers. Damian struggles to find an opening between them and their teamwork. He can also feel the time ticking away with each punch, swing, dodge, and heart-pounding killing blow that nearly lands on his person.

Just a little further. He thinks, panting as he blocks sword after sword, hissing in pain every time one of them manages to make small cuts through his defense. I just have to get a little further!

Bang! Bang!

The two bullets fly, breaking the guard's knees and pinning him down in a sword stalemate. Damian has a moment to thank the heavens that Todd and Richard appeared not even a second later—fighting away the two remaining guards. He watches them fight for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

One minute! Drake hisses, the sounds of gunfire and the wind of the helicopters' wind nearly drowning his voice.

Damian glances at the door, and then his brothers fight, and he makes his decision. He rushes to the door, kicks it open, and sprints down the pathway into the cave. He hears the battle pick up speed behind him, along with Todd's outraged cry of his name, but he does not slow down until the slight green glow comes into view.

"Danny!" he shouts, hoping his voice's sound waves can travel through the green liquid to what is hidden below. "I've come to rescue you!"

Are you kidding me? Todd yells in the coms. We're risking everything while being outnumbered and outgunned so Demon Brat can get his imaginary best friend!?

Damin tushes to the pit, leaning over, trying to spot the mermaid in the glowing water. He splashes the surfaces in the same way he used as a child, when calling for the creature, face darkening at the causation meanwhile. "He is not imaginary! Danny is real!"

Robin, we don't have time for this! Richard screams. We have to go! Now!

"In a minute!" Damian splashes the water more urgently. He could stick his head in, but he was healthy right now, minus the few cuts, and he could not afford to lose his head mid-escape.

We don't have a minute! Drake cries. A worrisome beeping noise accompanies his words. A loud boom is heard along with Drake's screech. I've been hit! I'm going down!

No!

"Danny, please! I need you!"

A small head of pure white hair peaks up from the water, gentle green eyes staring at him. The glowing green hides the rest of his face since the creature did not go further than his nose about the water, but Damian can tell he's smiling.

"Hello, little one."

Damian allows himself one moment of relief before the world starts to shake, and Danny leaves the Lazarus Pits for the first time in fourteen years. He rises out of the water, long, glowing angle fish tail darkening into shadows as his form shifts into a thing of nightmares.

Damian smiles up at him. "Hello, brother. Can you help my other brothers and me escape? "

Danny doesn't even have to consider the request already growing bigger and bigger until Damian is no bigger than his thumb. He then moves grabbing Damian in his ice-cold grasp.

Danny flies through the walls and picks up Ricard and Todd before they go up and out through solid stone. Damian closes his eyes, pressing against Danny's body to protect himself from whiplash and the strong wind.

Danny is insanely fast, which he proves by diving for the falling aircraft and not only catching up to it but also managing to lift it out of the sky. He angles his hand against the doorway, shaking his palm so Damian, Ricahrd, and Todd all tumble out of the gaint being hand into the safety of the chopper.

Danny then swings his massive body towards the horizon, ignoring the Leauge's attempts to capture him. The island is out of sight in seconds, and Damian can breathe a little easier, even though he is pressed against the wall with his screaming siblings.

Danny is going a little too fast in his escape.

"What's happening!?" Drake cries and checks to wiggle back a little from how fast they traveled.

"I invited Danny to live with us!"

"You did what!?"

[millyhelp]

It all fell Down.

Jason todd x reader

warnings: mentions of death, blood, sad jason. read at your own risk. Angst shit.

Notes: I cried writing this. good luck. and yes, I wrote a super cute smut a few hours ago and now this puddle of sadness. Maybe I should continue?

please comment.

"Stay with me, stay with me..." Jason's fingers passed over your face affectionately. Thick tears of fear left his face.

You were bleeding. Your wound was deep, a bullet hit you.

It was supposed to be the perfect day. Your wedding. Your white dress was now red across the entire length of your chest. Jason's white suit blouse was in the same situation.

You lost blood quickly.

"It's okay." Your voice was weak and you coughed. The bullet hole had pierced one of your lungs, making blood fill it.

"There's nothing okay. Just stay with me, okay?" Jason sobbed and held you tightly against him. "Don't leave me..."

"I won't. I'm with you, right there." You placed your hand on Jason’s heart. His voice was low. Your lips were turning purple. "Jay..."

"Don't talk, save your breath. Look at me, please" Jason had never cried so much in his life. "Where's the fucking help?!"

Jason shouted, his voice broken by crying. The entire Batfamily was trying hard to control the chaos that was happening. No one had understood where the attacks came from.

"Jay..." You called him again. his eyes were heavy. You knew you couldn't take it anymore. "I love you..."

"Don't! Don't say that!" Jason shook his head. Childish sobs left his lips. "Don't do this with me!"

"Kiss me..." your blood-stained hand went towards Jason's face.

Jason would deny it. But he couldn't. Inside him he knew his end was coming. He was just being selfish.

His lips kissed you with tenderness and pain. Fear. afraid to lose you

Your lips were cold. A heavy sigh left your lips. Your heart stopped.

A scream of pain left Jason's lips.

"No! No! NO!" Heavy tears were left, loud sobs and screams. "DONT LEAVE ME! No..."

Jason shook your freezing body.

"Wake up! come on! wake up!" Jason caressed your face "My love, my princess. Come on, you have to wake up. Let's get married."

Jason went into a state of delirium. He wouldn't accept it. No. The only one who loves him the way he is, the only one who wasn't afraid of him. You were just sleeping.

"You chose such a beautiful dress for me, huh?" Jason's voice was broken. The tears didn't stop falling. "I can't wait to fill our house with kids. We want three, remember?"

Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian had managed to stop the attack. They did not identify who sent the shooters. But that didn't matter now.

A tear left Barbara's eyes when she saw Jason kneeling on the floor with you in his arms.

Dick, Tim and Damian knelt in respect.

Little Damian let a few small tears fall. Tears that no one thought he would ever drop.

Bruce walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Jason..." Jason ignored him and continued talking to you.

"Come on love, wake up. I promised to take you to London! We have to catch the plane in a few hours!"

"Jason." Bruce spoke more firmly.

"You're going to love Paris! You told me it was your dream to see that big tower! My French is terrible, by the way!"

"Jason!" It was Barbara's turn to call him.

Jason looked at her. Barbara shook her head.

Jason didn't want to believe it yet. He ignored her.

"Jason! She died!" Damian's voice was loud and tearful. Broken.

"No... not for me..."

For Jason it was just a nightmare that for him, he would wake up like every other time. But this time, it wasn't a dream.

you were gone. you died.

and Jason can't save you.

[xoxoladyaz]

Deep down, Steve knows that it's only a matter of time until he gets caught.

It feels like he's gone through the five stages of grief, like, twenty times. He can't count how many hours he's spent rationalizing it: what Eddie doesn't know won't hurt him, this is normal, people do it all the time, and besides, Eddie would feel completely betrayed if he knew and their relationship is so new that it's just not worth the risk. The absolute last thing he wants is to upset Eddie and this will just make him upset so really, Steve is doing the honorable thing by just not telling him, by pretending that he's not hiding anything, that everything is fine.

But it's not Eddie that catches him; hell, it isn't even someone in the Party; it's Jeff, Eddie's friend/Hellfire Club member/Corroded Coffin bandmate who shows up too early for D&D at Steve's one day and sees something he shouldn't have.

"This isn't what it looks like."

Jeff walks into the kitchen and frowns, like he's confused by what he's seeing and why Steve is so anxious, why he's sweating like he's just run a marathon. "It looks like you're blending a bunch of veggies together in a blender."

Shit. "Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

Jeff still looks confused. "And this is a big deal because - "

"Because I haven't told Eddie that the 'special pasta sauce' that I've been using the last three months whenever we have spaghetti and meatballs is actually entirely made of, like, ten different kinds of vegetables," Steve rushes out, and Jeff's face smoothes in understanding.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. The dude has a weird vendetta against veggies."

Steve groans, slumping in relief. "Tell me about it. Do you know how hard it is to hide veggies in every single meal that I make for him? Because if I don't, then he's never going to eat them, and I'm worried about his health enough as it is."

Jeff nods. "It's the smoking, right?"

"The smoking, and the drinking, and I know he's sneaking out to smoke with Jon and Argyle, but he doesn't exercise and he only eats highly processed cereal with loads of sugar and I just don't want him to have a heart attack before the age of forty!"

"Hey, hey, Steve, man, your secret's safe with me." Jeff holds his hands up in supplication. "And for the record, I'm on your side. The dude is like a feral raccoon."

"I know," Steve sighs. "But he's my feral raccoon."

That makes Jeff start laughing. "If it makes you feel any better, my mom and I have been doing the same thing for years now. If you want, we could exchange recipes sometime."

"Really?" Steve perks up and now, now he's excited. "That would be great!"

"Sick. Need some help with the meatballs?"

"Please!"

And that is how Eddie and Gareth and Phil and Dustin and Mike and Lucas and Erica and Will find them later, chatting and laughing while Steve tosses his homemade noodles into his now-simmering pasta sauce, Jeff sitting on the kitchen island and drinking a beer.

This time, it's Jeff who looks like he's seen a ghost. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Oh?" Eddie asks, and his voice is totally controlled, which means that Jeff is screwed. "So you're not hanging out with my boyfriend and making him do that cute little blushy giggle that is my cute blushy giggle?"

"Eddie!" Steve scolds, but it's too late, Jeff knows his fate is sealed.

"Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

(Jeff's rogue is caught in the blast zone when Dustin's ranger kills a large acid toad. Still, he can't feel too mad when he sees Eddie smirk and then lick the veggie sauce out of his pasta bowl.)

[catwrites9]

I saw you wanted request. You can choose either Tara or Sam. T or S break up with Reader to protect them during the Ghostface attacks but then they realize it was a mistake and not helping so they try to get R back

It’s A Bad Idea, Right?

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warning: Violence, cussing, not proof read, change of pov, a bit of angst but a happy ending, idk what else

W/N: IM BACK GUYS, I’m rn just finishing my old asks and then I’m going to work on new things and get back into writing I’m happy to be back.

Masterlist

—————————————————————————

It starts off like any other day, you go to your classes, see your friends but something’s off. Tara’s acting weird the whole time, even when you try to ask her how she is or what’s wrong she just says she’s fine…. It’s now night time in New York and a perfect Thursday night for the weekly horror night. You get dressed and start heading to the apartment. But the whole time you feel like your being watched. The dread fill your stomach like it always use to. Your mom then calls you, this can’t be good.

Tara’s pov

“I just can’t let her be in danger because of me” I said to the group. Ghostface is back and I can’t let just let my girlfriend get hurt because of it.

“Tara this has to be the stupidest idea you’ve ever came up with, she’s been nothing but the best girlfriend to you and I mean she was able to protect herself against the random frat guy I mean come on be a big girl and just tell her what’s happening and give her the choice to leave”Mindy said annoyingly while trying to find a movie

“I just think it’s the best option so that she stays as far away from me” This has to be the best choice right.

“For once I think I’ll have to agree with Mindy even though I was skeptical of your girlfriend at first it’s just going to put her more in risk by leaving her alone” Sam said

“Then what after, after you break her heart you’ll just beat ghost face and go back to her like nothing” I stayed silent at Mindy’s words.

There’s a knock at the door….

Your pov

I knocked and waited for a response as Chad opened it hugging you but as you entered the apartment the air was tense. Something is wrong.

“Hey guys, what movie are we watching?” You said trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey, can I talk to you really quickly?” Tara said, her body language was off.

“Yeah” You walked towards her room with her.

She shut the door”We need to break up”

“What”

“We have to break up, I'm sorry”We both start tearing up.

“What do you mean Tara, why”

“We have to break up it’s for our own good”

“What did I do Tara, what, why why are you doing this”

“IT JUST FOR OUR OWN GOOD”She yelled at you everything getting silent the chatter in the living room stoping.”DAMN IT LISTEN IT'S FOR OUR OWN GOOD”

“why..” I said almost as a whisper, she thought for a moment while crying.

“BECAUSE I DONT LOVE YOU” she yelled. The shock of the moment as even the cars outside went silent. You broke down into tears as you rush out the house everyone having a sympathetic look as Mindy, Sam, and Anika all had the saddest looks and Chad started heading towards Tara’s room.

Tara’s pov

I stayed in my room. why did I say that. I do love her, what’s wrong with me. Chad entered to comfort me but I wasn’t having any of it. I entered the living room just wanting to find my Keyes to leave the house.

“Your not leaving Tara” Sam said while holding up my keys.

“Wtf Tara” Anika said looking back at me from the kitchen table.

“What come on guys I did my plan she’ll be save now and she can’t be hurt by me anymore.”

“Tara that was the stupidest idea even you know you’ll never have her back ever again” Anika yelled getting up from the couch.

“Tara” “Not now Sam” “No you know what I’m done with this gentle parenting thing what the fuck where you thinking I mean she was the best thing for you and even you you break it off now she’s still has a chance of getting chased by ghost face because she was already seen with you Tara”

“No…. She’ll go back home probably to see her mom”

“How do you know that Tara” Sam made the best point how do I know that ghostface will just not follow her.

“It’s a bad idea,right? Right Tara I mean she’s now alone and vonerable to ghost face” I stayed silent as everyone left.

Your pov

You couldn’t understand what you did wrong. She didn’t love me?? You went into your bed and cried. The outfit you wore to her house still on you with the memories with what happend that night forever reambered with what was suppose to be a normal movie night. You cried for what felt like house until your phone rang with a no caller id. fuck… You ansered it know who was going to be on the other line.

“Would you like to play a game it’s called Sam or Tara” The voice you dreaded the most Ghostface. You imideatly got up and ran through your door, knowing you only lived just a block from Tara.

“What do you want from me”

“To Pick Sam or Tara”

“What if I don’t”

“Then they both die, a lose lose. Come on this should be easy for your ex or Sam, such a near and dear friend of yours that knows your secret.” Your heart dropped. How does ghost face know that? You heard cry’s of them both.

“What if I give up Myself”

“It doesn't work like that”

“Think of it you leave Sam and Tara and you get me and that will then lead some people into New York and they’ll fall into your trap”

“Tempting but no” you climbed up the stairs to their house running to their door which is open.

“You have 5 seconds”

5

4

3

2

1

“Times up”

Ghostface stabs Sam, while not realizing you hung up the phone they go for a stab to Tara as you tackled Ghostface. Being able to stun them and you got up and flipped the table on them. You grabbed a pocket knife from Sam and cut her hands and you go for Tara but being tacked back from Ghostface. Sam tries to uncut Tara’s hands and Ghostface punches you multiple times each blow making you more light headed. You grab a book from beside you as you smash it against their head making almost a gunshot like noise. You got up holding your head as your hearing slowly came back. You see the sisters yelling and pointing. At that moment you felt a knife through your shoulder as you looked to your left and saw the ghost face getting up. There’s two of them great.

The second Ghostface digs the knife into you, twisting it. The sharp pain subsides as the adrenaline takes over your body seeing the first ghost face going towards the sisters. You elbow the Ghostface behind you in the ribs as they hunch down in pain as you push all your strength into hitting their head on the wall next to you, knocking them out. You shoulder check the other one over the couch as the sisters help you push it over them. You run out the apartment together as you all run down the stairs into the cops.

Now in the hospital you and Sam are right next to each other, Sam being in worse condition than you, as Tara is sitting on the chair in front of you as the group is outside due to only family being able to come in.

“I’m sorry” it was all Tara said as you looked confused.”I do love you I mean fuck I love you with all my heart I’m so sorry for what I said I was just trying to protect you from this whole situation”

“Tara it’s ok I get it, I’ve done it before, I just wish you told me why so I could have explained everything I already know what was happening.”

“What do you mean” before you could get a word of my mom walks in Sydney Prescott though she isn’t your real mom she stepped in after both your parents were killed from ghost face.

“Mom, you shouldn’t be here Ghostface can get you” You said said while hugging her

“Your moms Sydney Prescott” Tara said while drawing your attention back to her.

“Yes Tara, this is why I wish you would have told me no matter what I would have been included, especially with my mom, and that’s the secret ghost face we were talking about. And yeah Sam already knew because of that whole interrogation she did to me when we first were dating.”

As time passed Sam went in to undergo surgery as it’s only you and Tara left as your mom went to stay with Sam.

“I’m so sorry I should have told you”

“It’s fine Tara really and I mean if your ok with it we can get back together, really I understand what you were thinking I’ve thought the same”

“Really”

“Yes, will you Tara carpenter be my girlfriend”

“Of course” you kissed as if nothing ever happened.

“Does this mean that we have to change our anniversary”

“I don’t know hopefully no I can’t remember dates well”

“Tara, shut up” you said while kissing her again.

—————————————————————————

A/N Hope fully you guys liked this give me any feed back and also I’m open to requests from people from my masterlist.

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

i’ve got you

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

summary: an anxious Y/N feels overwhelmed while partying with the pogues at the boneyard, and JJ does his best to calm her nerves.

warning(s): underaged drinking, panic attack

a/n: a big thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last maybank!sister snippet. i hope to write a lot more for JJ in the future, so feel free to leave any requests if you have any specific ideas of what you’d like to read!

also please let me know if i should make these shorter. lol. i'm never sure.

Y/N screwed her eyes shut, trying and failing to keep her hands from trembling as they dented her red solo cup. Her heart was beating so fast that her head could barely keep up, the loud music and sweaty bodies that enclosed her doing nothing to ease her mind.

It was a picturesque summer night out in the boneyard, which of course meant that the Pogues just had to have a kegger. Y/N had grown used to the routine by then, tagging along as they went out to buy the keg and an insane amount of plastic cups that Kie always complained she found littered all over the beach the morning after. Y/N typically helped in the prep for whatever wild evening lay ahead, and had even served as a DD the few times that the Pogues got plastered enough to willingly allow a 15-year-old to drive the Twinkie. However, despite her brother's constant pleading and nagging, she'd never actually attended one of their infamous beach parties.

At least, not until tonight.

Y/N had always been shy, the complete opposite of her elder brother and all of his wild impulsivity. She hated big crowds and loud noises, and even though she would occasionally drink one while out on the Pogue, she wasn't even the biggest fan of beer. But JJ had begged her to join them all day long, poking and prodding at her nerves in his attempts to finally get his baby sister out of her shell.

"Come on, Y/N. You really wanna spend the rest of your life cooped up in the chateau?" he'd said dramatically, throwing his hands up in desperation. "You really oughtta live a little sometime."

You really oughtta live a little sometime.

His words had haunted her well into the evening, and at the last minute she'd finally decided to bite the bullet. JJ was right, after all. While most kids her age were busy making memories and taking risks, she spent her evenings curled up with a book in her lap.

Sure, it wouldn't be the most comfortable experience, but what was the worst that could happen? After all, like her brother always said, stupid things had good outcomes all the time.

She made a mental note to correct JJ on that stupid motto as someone pushed past her, blowing chunks into the bushes only a few feet away from rigid form.

Y/N covered her nose, averting her gaze just in time to notice a familiar head of blond hair breaking through the mess of bodies whooping and grinding on one another.

"Holy shit!" JJ hollered wildly, dimples painfully visible in his state of drunken bliss. "Tom, that's some gnarly shit, man! Trust me, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." He gave the boy a pat on the back as he retched, though thankfully the steady stream of vomit had ended.

Y/N only stood and watched. It was clear that JJ hadn't seen her, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to ruin his night.

"Yo, Y/N/N!"

Too late.

JJ made his way over in sloppy strides, and Y/N turned up her nose at the stench of alcohol clinging to him. He pulled her into him with an arm slung over her shoulders.

"Hi, Jay." Y/N hoped her brother was drunk enough not to notice the tremble in her voice.

"Where'd you go, kid? I've been looking for you all night." He was leaning on her now, gleefully unaware as he slowly crushed her beneath his weight. Y/N groaned with the effort it took to keep her brother upright, struggling not to remind him that it was in fact he who left her to do some shots and never returned.

"Yeah I was . . . I was j-just--"

"Shit, I didn't know you were drinking. That's my girl," he slurred with a wink, pointing at the cup Y/N was damn near close to dropping. It was all getting too much for her—JJ's weight boring into her side, the overwhelming stench of beer, the screaming mouths and dancing bodies slowly closing her in. She felt like a caged animal, her lungs tight and chest heavy.

"Hey, you seen Pope yet? I lost him an hour ago—saw him walk off with some blonde chick with a tramp stamp. Oh, you need a top-up? You should go now, 'm pretty sure the keg's getting low."

JJ continued to ramble on as Y/N crumbled underneath him, her eyes searching desperately for somewhere to go.

"Aw man, I love this song!" Y/N gasped as JJ began jerking her around, forcing her to sway back and forth with him. "Yo, Kurt! Turn that shit up bro!"

Y/N felt blood rushing to her ears, her hands growing clammy as her nerves took over. You're fine, she told herself. You're fine, you're fine. But it wasn't working—she couldn't hear herself think over the music blaring from the speakers.

"Come on, loosen up Y/N! Let's dance!"

"No!" Y/N reached her breaking point, escaping from beneath her brother's outstretched arm. JJ stumbled, just barely managing to catch himself and get a good look at the fear etched into Y/N's features.

"What? Y/N—" He held out a hand that she cringed away from, breathing raggedly as she did.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Y/N!" JJ called after her as she ran off, not knowing exactly where she was headed but intent on getting away. She wound up crouching behind a small hill across from the bustling core of the party, far enough away that the music finally fell to an acceptable volume.

Y/N brought her knees to chest and buried her face in them, fingers tugging at her hair as tears spilled from her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be dumb enough to let JJ convince her that this would be a good idea? Y/N forced her breathing to slow as her chest tightened, coughing in her feeble attempts.

Y/N had listened to a few songs run their course by the time she managed to get a grip on herself, her breaths steadying as she counted eight-second inhales and eight-second exhales. Still Y/N rested her forehead against her knees, so dead-set on staying calm that she didn't notice the sound of JJ's footsteps in the sand.

"Hey." Y/N gasped, her head shooting upright as she scrambled to back away from whoever had found her. "Hey, calm down. It’s alright, Y/N." She sighed in relief when she recognized JJ's outline in the dark, her brother crouched before her shrunken form. "It's okay. Just me."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"'S okay. Didn't mean to scare you." He awkwardly held out another cup to her, which she observed warily. "Don't worry, it’s just water. Figured it might help more than beer."

Y/N smiled, accepting JJ's peace offering gratefully. "You'd be right about that." She greedily drank it all in one gulp, only then realizing how dry her mouth had gotten. "Thanks, Jay."

"Least I could do, since I forced you to come her." Y/N sighed, noticing the guilt swimming in her brother's blue eyes.

"You didn't force me."

"Well, I might as well have."

"it's not your fault, JJ." He rested a comforting hand on her knee.

"Sure it is. I knew you didn't like this kind of scene and I dragged you here anyway." He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as regret consumed his intoxicated mind.

"It's okay." Y/N shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. JJ ruffled her hair. "Sorry I can't be a party animal like you."

"Ah, don't sweat it. Makes my job a lot easier, anyway." Y/N giggled, shoving him lightly, and JJ couldn't help but smile. "So, what's the plan? Want me to drive you home?"

Y/N scoffed. "I don't even think you could if you tried."

"Oh, Y/N," He teased her with a smile, "you severely underestimate my driving skills."

"And you severely overestimate my willingness to die." JJ chuckled at that. "Plus, who said I wanted to leave?"

"You’re gonna stay?'

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I've made myself a pretty comfy hideout over here." JJ pouted.

"I guess . . ." He looked down at his sister with a smirk. "Or you could try the party again."

Immediately Y/N felt that skin-crawling uncertainity take over once more. She bit at her bottom lip. "I don't . . . I dunno, Jay."

"Look, I promise I won't leave you this time. We can just sit around the campfire—maybe try to find Kie or something. What'd'ya think?" He held out a hand to her. "We'll take it slow."

Y/N considered this for a moment, eventually taking hold of her brother's hand. "Okay."

"Sweet!" JJ tried his best to stand, but only wound up falling back on his ass. "I'm gonna need some help getting up, though."

Y/N laughed, hoisting her brother to his feet with a grunt, and JJ smiled as she allowed her hand to linger in his while they walked. The very same way she did when they were little.

Just like JJ promised, he found the two of them a space to sit by the blazing campfire and never left Y/N's side.

・❥・

Hours had passed before the kegger had begun to die down, their beer long gone and speakers long dead. The rest of the Pogues had finally joined the Maybanks around the fire pit, and the group listened comfortably as Kie plucked at the strings of her ukulele. "Y'know what, Jay? I wouldn't mind trying this kegger thing again."

JJ smiled. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it." She snuggled closer to his chest, absorbing whatever extra heat his body offered. "As long as you're there to hold my hand."

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hi! I just love your levi fics so much!

For a request I was hoping for something like this -

Levi & reader had grown up together along with Isabel and farlan, when the group gets sent off onto their fateful mission levi thinks reader died alongside with Isabel and farlan. (Angst)

Only to discover years later that reader was alive and actually doing very well for themselves, well known and a strong fighter. Just a very cute reunion fic maybe? Maybe romance 👀 thanks! <3

🦅- Anon

this was an emotional rollercoaster I'm still crying babe but here you go, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Levi thinking he lost his sun forever only to find you again after years

Pairing: Levi x fem! reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: It's been 1869 days since you were killed by the abnormal titan Isabel and Farlan lost their lives to as well, 1869 days of missing you and regretting that Levi didn't tell you about his true feelings when you were still alive. Little does he know you aren't so easy to get rid of and that you are still out there...

Warnings: death, blood, war scene, depression, full on hurt to comfort, super duper fluff in the end, as usual not proofread because I need to go to bed now hehe

Notes: Finally my first Levi fic after literally MONTHS! I know a lot of you were patiently waiting for more attack on titan content and I'm beyond sorry it took me so long babes. Please let me know how you feel about Attack on Titan content so that I might do more and especially regular fics in the future <3

He can’t take his eyes off you. To be exact, the sunlight suits your facial features so well that it seems impossible to ever let go of your sight.

You have been friends since he met you on that day exactly 6 years ago, when you tried to steal a load of food for a heavy pregnant woman. Since then, he was captivated by your beauty, your brain, your skills. But somehow, this makes the stinging fact that you sit beside him even worse.

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n)”, he speaks out before he’s able to stop himself.

Immediately, your gaze drifts away from the dreamy scenery to him, eyes widen in surprise.

“What are you talking about, Levi?”

Don’t say his name while looking at him like that, not with that gentle tone in your angelic voice. He told himself over and over that you are nothing but a close friend, maybe considered family like Isabel and Farlan.

He huffs to himself. What a filthy little lie.

“This mission is dangerous. I don’t want you to get-“

“Hurt? Killed? You told me about all those things more than once and I’m happy to repeat myself again for you: I will not leave you, Farlan’s and Isabel’s side. After all, we are friends, right? And friends don’t leave each other behind.”

You gift him with your usual breath-taking smile while his heart skips a beat.

A friend.

He has to remind himself over and over again, force his orbs away from you. You are nothing but friends. And he will never risk to lose you over the potential of something more.

-the evening before the mission-

“I thought I’d find you here”, your teasing voice shouts from behind.

You are probably the last thing he wants to see this evening. Not because he doesn’t enjoy your company, but because he wasn’t able to convince you to stay in safety. Erwin Smith made it very clear that this mission is dangerous, that multiple survey corps member already died behind those walls. And even though you, Farlan and Isabel showed your skills countless times before, he can’t stop his train of thought. You, getting grabbed by a titan. You, getting ripped apart, your blood scattering onto the ground. He won’t have the chance to stay by your side during all times. One wrong movement, one thoughtless decision and you’d be gone.

“I don’t even have to ask in order to know what you’re thinking about right now, Levi.”

The second your hand brushes over his shoulder, he is too lost in the feeling of your bare hand against his shirt to worry any further.

“You don’t have to worry about Farlan, Isabel and me. After all, you’re the one who taught us everything we know.”

“Tsk. You were already doing fine when I met you.”

“But you were the one who showed me there is still hope, something worth fighting for. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died down there without ever seeing the sun once in my life”, you reply.

All of the sudden you place your hand on top of his and squeeze in gently. That look on your face, is it…Affection? He shakes his head firmly, doesn’t allow himself to get lost in that oh so sweet idea. A woman like you will never fall for a cold-hearted man like him, not when the whole squad fell head over heels for you the second they got to know you better. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine. He, on the other hand, is none of that.

“Stop praising me or else I’ll puke and make a mess onto the freshly cleaned floor.”

No, he doesn’t deserve your kind word, doesn’t even deserve that spark in your eyes. You are better off without him, even as a friend.

“You’ll gonna clean it up anyway”, you bite back with a wide grin.

“Actually, there is something else I want to talk with you about, Levi.”

The sudden change in your voice paired with the warmth of your hand leaving his lets his gaze wander to yours again – only to catch you already staring.

“What is it?”, he questions instantly.

“If you have to decide between Isabel, Farlan and me…Just promise that you’ll safe them before even thinking about my ass. Please look after them and don’t worry about me.”

His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, reveal his surprise and…his resist. Not thinking about you, leaving you behind? The urge to shake you becomes almost unbearable when he grabs your arms passionately, gaze locking with yours.

“There is no way in hell I will ever leave you behind, dumbass. Don’t you dare to die on me, got it?”

“Promise”, you urge.

“Promise you’ll look out for them first.”

“(y/n)…”

He has to close his eyes in order to stop staring at your perfect lips. This might be the last time he ever sees you alive so unbothered by his side, the last time he witnesses the way the dim moonlight lights up your hair.

This…might be your last night alive.

“Please, I can’t live with the thought of being without them. They are still so young.”

“What about you, though? What if I don’t want to live a life without you? What if I die myself?”

You smile at him sadly, your hand caressing his cheek oh so gently.

“We all know you won’t die out there, Levi. It’s us who might not be here with you tomorrow. After all, that’s why you wanted to stop us from coming with you, right?”

He swallows hard. Every single one of you is a skilled fighter. Hell, you even survived the underground with countless enemies chasing after you. But this? This is something completely different. For the first time since getting to know all of you, Levi isn’t so sure about your abilities anymore.

“I promise”, he replies with low voice.

“Thank you”, you breathe out.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we? We have a big fight ahead of us.”

Oh, there is no doubt in the fact that Levi won’t close his eyes this whole cursed night, pondering about a way to safe all of you. But even though you are very aware of that, you turn on your heel and smile at him one last time.

The brightest smile of them all, making your face gleam in nothing but affection.

“Oh, and Levi?”

“What is it, dumbass?”

“When I was talking about the sun earlier…That sun was you.”

And then you’re gone in the dark, leaving him with his heart almost beating out of his chest and feelings clustered all over the place.

Him, your sun?

-the battle-

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, the violent scream escaping your lips not reaching your ringing ears. Those powerful orbs…There is no doubt in the fact that this is her, that this is Isabel. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, mix with the bitter coat of rain that sticks to your face uncomfortably.

Your friend is dead. And you were not able to protect her.

“You.”

The monster standing in front of you doesn’t look like the other titans you’ve seen before. Eyes red like crimson, lips curved into an evil grin. This thing is absolutely aware of the agony it causes you and enjoys every tear you cry.

You grab your blades even tighter, narrow eyes fixating its nape.

“I will make you suffer”, you press out through gritted teeth.

“I will make you regret that you even touched her!”

You dash forward only to get greeted by thin air. Fuck, this thing is so fast you didn’t even realize it was gone until your blade crashed into the muddy ground. Why do your hands suddenly start shaking, your knees felling weak? It’s just you and that thing. The other corps members around you? Scuttered onto the floor in bloody pieces.

Levi?

You escape its clutches by a hair’s breadth, the monster’s stinging smell of death and rotten flesh making your guts turn. You need to focus, need to control your fear and anger. Otherwise, you’ll die just like all the others did.

Levi…Is he dead as well? There is no one around, no one showed a single reaction to your multiple cries for help, your signs. Maybe you’re the only one who’s left. Which means that Farlan and Levi are gone.

Levi, gone? Fuck, you should have told him about your true feelings yesterday, you should have pressed your lips against his like you always dreamed about. This was the last opportunity to tell him how much you love him before both of you die.

And now it will be forever too late.

Just when you’re about to dash forward, the arm of the titan yanks towards you with breath-taking speed. Your eyes widen in sheer horror as all you can do is stare in sheer disbelief.

Is this how you will die? Through the hand of an abnormal titan, eating you alive?

You always dreamed of a life on the surface with Levi by your side. Maybe a small cottage on the edge of a busy city close to a river. Having a little farm with a few animals here and there, Levi working for a local business while you stay home and care for your home. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to rest, to get lost in the life you will never have.

If only you had told him sooner. Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel your bones crack against the sheer force of the titan’s flat palm, throwing you into the air like a ball.

As soon as your body hits the ground, everything goes black.

-5 years later-

He opens his eyes against the way too harsh sunlight. Another night he hasn’t slept more than 2 hours. Day 1869 of missing you.

“Good morning, Captain Levi!”

He doesn’t even care to reply, feet carrying him down the hallway monotone. His days have always been the same since the day he lost Isabel, Farlan and you: Getting haunted in his sleep, waking up alone, surviving another day in this living hell. It’s almost ironic, how he already hated the world when you were in it. Little did he know how much worse it would get when you’re gone.

There is no day since back then that doesn’t revolve around you. You, with your hair down in the sun. You, beating up some tuff guys and showing them their place. You, that fucking cursed night before you had to leave.

Until this day, he hates himself for not being there. By the time he arrived, everyone was dead, brutally murdered by an abnormal titan. And even after searching for your corpse for hours in the pouring rain, he didn’t even manage to find a single limb left of you. This should be a good sign. After all, it might mean that you somehow managed to survive.

“The chances of (y/n) surviving and managing to flee on her own are 1 against 500.000”, Erwin said back then.

Maybe it would have actually felt better, knowing that you’re dead. Maybe this would spare him from getting haunted by your giggling and fucking gorgeous face each and every night.

But…If getting haunted by your presence is all he has left, he shouldn’t complain about it.

“We are heading out today. It is said that there are countless abnormal titans roaming around a city nearby”, Erwin explains briefly.

“How the fuck did these things even manage to get in there?”, Levi grumbles in response while taking a sip of his way too hot tea.

“That’s not what I care about. What I’m more interested in is the fact that a group of villagers managed to trap one of them.”

Levi can’t help but put his cup of tea down while Hange bursts out in sheer excitement next to him. A group of villagers, trapping an abnormal titan?

“Former corps members?”, he questions.

“Apparently not. Maybe they are interested in a new job”, Erwin replies, getting up from his seat and straightening his uniform.

“We are leaving right now.”

“Right now? Over some brats who were lucky to not get eaten by that titan?”

“You can’t deny that these ‘brats’ have to be skilled in order to trap an abnormal titan, Levi.  Also, I heard the head of them is a woman.”

Levi huffs to himself. Skilled, huh? Lucky is definitely the better fit.

You sink your blade straight into the eye of the disgusting creature lying in front of you, watch in sheer satisfaction how it squeals underneath.

“Hope you enjoy that as much as I do”, you mumble, twisting and turning your sword painfully slow.

“(y/n), d-don’t you think that’s enough? What if it escapes?”, the man next to you cries out, holding safe distance between himself and the abnormal.

“So what? Listen, you little shit. If you even try to escape, I will kill you without even blinking, got it?”

You rip your blade out. In, out, in, out until everything around you is covered in crimson.

Just like back then.

You stumble back when a wave of nausea hits you. The sight of Isabel’s lifeless head, her limbs scattered across the muddy floor. Back then, you weren’t able to save her, weren’t even able to save yourself. If it wasn’t for your crew, you’d be dead by now. Just like her…

“Hey.”

“How about you take a break for a sec? You’re drifting off again.”

Her gently voice pulls you out of your nightmare just like her tender touch. Petra has been the greatest support since that fateful day. In fact, the only reason you are still alive is her. When she found you, you were already on the brink of death. Only due to her passionate and long-term care, you learned how to walk again, learned how to fight again.

“Sorry”, you mumble, allowing yourself to rest for a moment against her strong shoulder.

“(y/n), I’m sorry to interrupt you like this but…We spotted members of the survey corps?”

“The survey corps?”, you repeat in sheer disbelief.

Rage starts flooding your veins in an instant, forcing you to pick up your blade again. If there’s one thing you will never forgive the survey corps for, it’s the fact that they left you standing in the rain. The countless people who died with the wings of faith embroidered onto their jackets, eaten alive by a titan while your desperate cries for help remained unanswered until this day. For Erwin Smith, you were nothing but canon fodder, nothing but a bait. And you will forever hate him over the fact that he is partly responsible for the death of Isabel, Farlan and Levi.

You storm in the direction your scout sighted them, jumping from tree to tree in order to catch them by surprise. You will definitely not tolerate survey corps members around your area, especially when you just caught an abnormal titan to study and torture.

“There they are.”

Their disgusting green cloaks fill you with thick anger, almost force you onto the ground to knock every single one of them out. But you know all too well this isn’t the way to go. No, you will wait here until the right time comes to throw yourself at their captain.

There are five of them, walking towards the direction of your village. Just wait a few more seconds until the one who walks ahead is underneath you, one second and you…

You lunge yourself at the person with full speed, forcing them to the ground. Him, to be exact. That firm chest exposes all too urgently that you just attacked a man.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, brat?”, he barks at you, rough hands grabbing your wrists so tightly that your bones threaten to shatter.

You aren’t able to defend yourself, though.

That voice, the way he called you brat.

Is it really possible that…

You allow your eyes to look up at him and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“Levi.”

You breathe his name out like a prayer, as if your dream might become reality. These grey and unbothered eyes look just like you remember his, the dark hair framing his face oh so perfectly.

“Levi, is that you?”

He can’t comprehend his feelings. Just a second ago, he was under attack of a stranger. But your eyes aren’t foreign. They hold the spark he dreams of each and every night, the memory he cares about so deeply. Is it really possible, that…

“(y/n).”

Everyone was so sure that you died on the battlefield, that the titan must have eaten you alive without leaving any remains. But maybe there was nothing to remain. Maybe you actually did manage to survive. Is it possible? Is this really you?

“I thought you died.”

Your voice is nothing but a fade away whisper, tears streaming down your usual so composed face like rivers when your memories begin to crash down on you like a house of cards. All those years, you were convinced Levi lost his life on this battlefield as well, that you were the only one remaining. But now you’re sitting on top of him, taking in his clean scent while he glares at you the way he used to.

“Everyone tried to convince me that that fucking abnormal ate you back then, that there is no chance you survived. Now look at you, dumbass”, he breathes out, very own eyes now coated in a thin layer of glimmering tears.

There is no time to waste. With a swift motion, you lunge yourself at him again, wrap your arms around his strong torso as if your life depends on it while resting your head against his chest and crying your heart out.

Words will always fail to express how much you missed him, that you thought about him each and every night since the day he was taken away from you so roughly. But now, you will never let him go again. Now you won’t waste another opportunity to tell him how you really feel.

“I love you, Levi. I loved you since our days in the underground city, I loved you through all these horrible years of grief. I love you. I love you”, you finally blurt out.

“I love you too, (y/n). I always did.”

Gently, he rests his hand against your nape while lifting your chin up with the other.

The second your lips meet, your world feels complete for the first time. All the pain, the grief, the things you had to endure. The countless nights of imagining him right by your side, the thought of never seeing him again. And now he’s here, right in your arms while kissing you so passionately that you fail to breathe.

“I love you”, he repeats so softly that your heart melts away like butter.

“I love you…”

“I finally found my sun again”, you smile against his lips.

You snuggle yourself onto him even tighter, your grip around his torso firm. Oh, you will definitely never let this man go again. Not after it took both of you so many years to meet again, not when he’s all you ever wanted.

Levi Ackerman, the love of your life.  

“Who’s that woman throwing herself at you from a tree and then getting a smooch from you?”

“Shut up, shitty four-eyes”, Levi barks at the person standing behind him.

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@hellkaiserinphoenix  @chilichopsticks @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain (hope you noticed I actually named reader's bestie after you babe) @polarbvnny @kentocalls @kayleegomez

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[doe-writes-stuff]

A/N - Thank you to those who enjoyed my last post! I'm really excited to bring you some spicy content as well >.> Enjoy <3

Words: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Explicit smut, body worship, cunnilingus, strong language, tending to wounds, blood, light mentions of domestic abuse, Vigilante!Reader

The devil's not supposed to have a heart. That's why these no-name, no-face, no-strings-attached flings had worked out. Somewhere along the way, he seems to have forgotten that.

Panting, half-bent at the waist against the pain radiating in your shoulder where the bullet had penetrated, you watched as the—understandably—terrified woman ran for her life back towards the city proper, leaving the pier behind with haste. A groan from below made you snarl, anger coiling in your injured body like a snake. A booted foot kicks out at the squirming man, and your attack silences his pathetic whimpering.

The sudden kick caused a sharp pain to flare through you, and you curse under your breath, stepping back away from the now-unconscious man, taking stock of the situation. A split lip, gunshot wound, and what was certainly a few bruised ribs were the least of your problems tonight, however. Oh, no, that would be the motorboat speeding off under the cover of night, and with it your intended target.

This was all wrong. So fucking wrong. You should have been faster. Smarter. Then maybe the bastard wouldn't have gotten away...

Kidnappings weren't a common occurrence in the Kitchen. Spriting away an entire person wasn't an easy feat with a population dense place like this. People heard things, saw things. Friends went to the cops when they felt something was wrong. Broken routines didn't go unnoticed. Sure, they still happened, but most petty criminals weren't brazen enough to try something so bold, day or night. Only the truly hardened, or those without anything to lose considered it at all. Even then there were so many factors that could go wrong during the attempt, most didn't take the risk.

Conrad Clausen had tried anyway.

A career dirtbag and misogynist of the highest order, the bastard had thus far successfully and consistently toed the line of legal technicality against his ex-girlfriend, McKenzie Grissom. Conrad, infuriatingly, made full use of his minor in criminal justice to make her life a living hell after she'd filed for a restraining order, finally fed up with the abuse. Civil suits and private investigators, exploiting services written in her name, and more. The poor woman couldn't catch a break.

The last straw was when she'd come to the Domestic Violence Resource Institute, straight into your protective jurisdiction, looking for help in the wake of his vindictive crusade. That hadn't sat well with him at all.

You should have seen the signs coming, the moment all of his manipulative tactics suddenly ceased for over a week. Should have known something was up. He wouldn't have given her up so easily. You hadn't thought he'd go so far as to enlist his best friend into the plot of kidnapping and doing who-knew-what to poor McKenzie, but here you were, standing over the dude in question. He'd even brought a gun, the very one responsible for your shoulder freely bleeding.

If only you'd managed to get Conrad himself, but he'd given you the slip. With no way of catching up to him, and no knowledge of where he'd hide away to plan his next move, you stood there above his friend's unconscious form, seething.

On paper, this was a success. McKenzie had been saved, and you'd managed to apprehend on of the kidnappers involved. But Conrad was smart and wicked and cunning, and now on the loose. A rabid dog off his chain and unpredictable in what he'd do next. He'd be more careful, more patient, the next time he tried to take her and oh...you knew for certain he would try again. Men like him wouldn't ever stop, no matter how many times it took to get it right.

In the end, you'd accomplished not much at all, and the tension in your shoulders and back felt suffocating.

You needed to move. You needed to do something. Anything.

Biting back the urge to scream, you stoop down and fish Conrad's friend's phone from his jeans pocket, dialing 911 with swift fingers. The Hudson River beside you brought with it a chilly breeze, as you waiting through that first ringing of the line. A woman's calm voice answered moments later.

"911, what's the address of your emergency?"

"There's been an attempted kidnapping at Pier 92. One of the men responsible is unconscious and will need medical attention. The other just got away in a motorboat. Send in some units." Is your reply in monotone, not waiting for her response before ending the call. You weren't worried about the report being ignored. Some precincts may be corrupt, but the 15th was alright in your books. They'd follow through.

Tossing the phone aside, you step over the man's body and roll back your shoulders, trying and failing to alleviate some of the tension that had settled there. Your dark suit chaffed despite being tailor-made to fit you perfectly. Months of sewing it yourself had meant it shouldn't be this uncomfortable, which only served to further set your nerves on end as you tromped through the darkness back towards your motorbike.

The last 10 minutes play back through your head in a spiraling loop. Picking apart your decisions, playing a depressing game of should've-would've-could've until self-loathing joined the anger and resentment that kept your muscle tight and high-strung.

Breathing labored and heavy, you make it to your bike, jamming the helmet on your head and starting up the engine with a rough twist of your wrist. It roars to life with a thunderous growl that echoes beneath the concrete pier caps overhanging above.

Knuckles white beneath your black gloves, tightly gripping the handles, you rocket forward in search of the next crime-in-progress. Hopefully Hell's Kitchen would deliver.

A quiet night was typically a good thing when it came to your nightly activities. It meant the city wasn't at war with the scum that coalesced in its dark corners. It meant peace and safety to those that lived there.

Tonight, though, you loathed the peace.

The door to your foxhole swung open with such force, you're surprised it hadn't fallen off its hinges. Barely giving it any attention, you stomp with a fury inside, hearing it slam shut behind you. The noise was good. Loud. Angry.

Down a set of stairs takes you to the relatively open space that had become your landing point at the end of your vigilante patrols—with the building mostly gutted it was difficult to tell what it had been before, maybe a spacious storage closet? Complete with a semi-comfortable cot and a few cupboards and shelves with storage for your medical kit and suit repair supplies, it was a home away from home that kept your identity safe from those who might have followed you. Despite the space, it still felt stifling amidst the chaos in your head.

There'd been nothing to help you release the tension from your failure that night. No muggers to beat within an inch of their life. No burglars unlucky enough to cross your path. Every alley way and street corner you could think to look had been confoundingly crime-free. Fucking nothing.

Clenching and unclenching your fists, you pace back and forth in the dingy yellow light from the standing lamp in the corner, chest rising and falling in pain and rage that built higher with each sharp ache in your ribs and the dried blood pulling away from the makeshift bandage on your shoulder. Careless. Slow. Useless. That's what you were. McKenzie was in more danger now than she had been before. Conrad would wait for a better time to strike, and next time you doubted you'd be so lucky as to be there when he did.

The mental image of the smarmy bastard getting what he wanted was your breaking point. A guttural yell spat past your lips, and your fist shot out to punch at the nearest wall with as much strength as you could muster.

The drywall caved into a hole with the force of the hit, and you were just lucky to have missed the stud behind it. Pain radiated from your knuckles immediately after, but at least it was something to focus on other than your tumultuous thoughts. In the moment, the violent impulse had felt good. You drew your hand back, half-tempted to repeat the action.

"What did the wall do to deserve that?"

Alertness raises the hairs on the back of your neck within a split second, but recognition follows just as quickly behind it. Closing your eyes, you somehow manage to resist the urge to punch your visitor. In all your anger, you hadn't noticed another presence in the room. Rookie mistake. Had it been someone looking to harm you, they'd have had every opportunity.

Drawing your hand back down to your side with measured calm, you turn your head just enough to spot the red-suited vigilante leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. The opaque, blood-red lenses of his mask somehow managed to exude a tempered curiosity, gaze directed a few feet to your left. His lips were upturned in the barest hint of a grin, posture relaxed and at ease, a stark contrast to the coiled tension of your own.

If he noticed or was put off by your visibly wrathful mood, he gave no indication.

Jaw set, you turn and walk with purpose to the row of shelves off to his left, unclipping your arsenal of equipment from around your waist and thigh holsters. They find their places with heavy clunks in the empty spaces.

"Why are you here?" Your question comes out dripping with malice, though you're not entirely sure if any of it was truly directed at him, or the shitty night you'd just endured. It took everything in you not to yell at him to get the hell out.

Instead of answer, his head tilts in that way it always did. Several seconds pass before a frown settles his mouth downwards. "You're injured."

"No shit." Another flash of annoyance, another clunk onto the shelf.

"I smell blood," he remarks, pushing away from the storage cupboards as he zeroed in on the front of your suit, "and gunpowder. You were shot?"

"I'll live." When he tries to come closer, you push past him to remove the exterior protective jacket of your suit, painfully shrugging it off and tossing it onto the cot that would be your sleeping arrangement for the night. No need to bring your anger home and risk your own apartment's walls.

A tight-fitting black shirt was underneath the outer jacket, and you waste no time in removing it, unbothered that the other vigilante was mere feet behind you. Nothing he hadn't seen before—minus your face, of course, the mask always stayed on—but you were growing restless with his presence there the longer he remained. You hadn't expected company.

The shirt joins your jacket, and you're left with your sports bra and the makeshift bandage you'd cobbled together at some point during the night. The cloth you'd torn and packed against the wound had stained a deep red, saturated, but at least it had done its job and stopped the blood flow. It would need to be replaced with something clean and proper, though. Removing it now would hurt like a son of a bitch, but you'd grit your teeth and bear it. It's what you always did.

"Let me help." The devil's smooth voice is closer than you'd expected behind you, but you shift away from his soft touch on your shoulder with a barely-restrained growl.

"Why are you here?" You ask again, tone demanding that you'd get an answer this time now that you're facing him directly. In reality, you knew why—there was only ever one reason he showed up here—you just wanted him to man up and say it. He needed release, and as the only other operating vigilante in the city, the only other person who could really understand what he took on when he donned the mask, you were the one he sought out.

No names, no faces, and no feelings involved. Just sex. A way to release all the pent up emotions of dealing with the worst that Hell's Kitchen had to offer. It was the only method that didn't involve hurting other people the two of you had found worked just as well. Sometimes there was no other way to really purge oneself of the rollercoaster of emotions that came with trying to protect this city—a city that, sometimes, felt like it hardly wanted the help.

Maybe his night had been just as shitty as yours. Maybe he hadn't gotten all the adrenaline out of his system from his last fight. Or maybe he just felt like a quick fuck. Whatever it was, this whole situation was very off-script to your typical encounters.

He hadn't reached out to you at any point during the night. And you certainly hadn't called for him to meet at your foxhole. Him showing up out of the blue was unusual. You would have suspected something wrong had brought him here, but the absence of his all-business and terse persona made that unlikely. Your penetrating stare was strong enough that you could almost envision burning a hole through his mask.

His silence was prolonged, so you tried again, stepping closer and encroaching on his space. He didn't move back. "Well?"

Another brief pause, and the devil's head dips down further. And despite still wearing the mask, you can't help but feel like he was looking right through it to look at the person beneath. "You needed me."

"I didn't call for you."

"You didn't have to." His matter-of-fact reply was laden with something...so wholly unlike the devil you knew. Dare you call it...gentle?

That was certainly not a word you'd ever have associated with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. All you can do is blink back, unsure of how to respond. Despite possessing heightened senses—the limits of which you were still uncertain of—you doubted he had a vigilante-in-distress sense kicking around in that brain of his.

Irritation swirled through the veins within you. His proximity itched at your nerves in so many ways. You wanted to shove him across the room. You wanted to scream your lungs out, punch and kick at the one person who could meet you on equal footing until your body gave out from exhaustion. Violence was second-nature, instinct as much as reflex.

Sex with Daredevil was a violence in its own right. Rough and unrestrained in ways that felt very much like the fights you threw yourself into against the bad guys on the streets. He'd give as good as he got. He'd meet your ferocity with that of his own, capable and willing to surpass it at times. Both of you, embodiments of wrath and rage, colliding.

You hadn't called him, but here he was. Might as well get some use out of him.

Violent intent morphed cleanly into physical need within the span of a few heartbeats. Lust born from seething anger simmered just beneath your skin, taking the tension that had settled in your limbs all night and turned it outwards, leaving you nearly shaking before him.

"So...you're here. You gonna take care of me, devil?" Is your coy question, one brow raising as you lean back against the cot pressed sideways to the wall, hands gripping the thin mattress to either side of you, nearly-naked chest on display for his eyes to gaze upon. It's almost embarrassing how much you trembled at just the anticipation of him manhandling all of your stress away.

The concern that had settled into his mouth lifted into something more amused, edged with cockiness. "I always do."

You expect him to erase all distance between you, claim your lips with his in a kiss as unforgiving as his sense of justice, shoving you back onto the cot. But to your surprised dismay, he gently pushes away from you and heads back to the cupboards. A deep frown marks your face, but logic hits a second later. Your wound. Ugh.

Your eyes track the way his body moves within his own red suit, leaning down to open the drawer with your medical supplies in it. Whether it was a lucky guess that he picked the exact drawer you kept it all in or if he somehow just fucking knew, you were too wound up to ask. But he's back in front of you only a moment later, setting the things he'd need beside you on the cot.

With barely a wince, you lower yourself down to sit on the edge of the cot, allowing the devil into the space between your legs as he knelt. A stirring deep down screamed to wrap them around his waist and draw him in where you'd rather he be occupying himself, but for now you behaved. Something told you if you didn't let him at least help with your injury, he'd leave you high and dry.

Ignoring the way you simmer in your own clouded lust, he reaches up to gently peel away the torn wrap now soaked in red. The blood that had previously dried and stuck to the edges of the wound now broke open with a sharp pain, and you bite into your lip against the feeling, focusing on evening your breathing through it.

Gloved fingers drift to your back, searching with a tenderness that shocks you.

"The bullet?" He asked, breaking the short silence. Setting the ruined rag aside, he soaked another with antiseptic.

Your voice comes out clipped and sharp. "Dug it out earlier."

He hums in understanding. You bit back a curse as he applied the material to your open wound, the sting raging its ugly head and gnashing its teeth. Hands that so efficiently bloodied the criminals of Hell's Kitchen were patient and steady on your skin, tending to you with that same gentleness he'd spoken with before. This was all so damn confusing.

Your eyes track across his mask in an effort to focus on something else. Past the red-glossed eyes and down to the stubbled jaw that was all you could see of the man underneath. You knew it would feel delightfully rough if you ran your fingers across it...

"What happened at the pier?" The question surprises you and when you stare at him in prolonged silence, because how in the hell could he have known where you'd been, he gives a little shrug. "Saltwater. I smell it on your suit."

You slowly shake your head, ignoring the subtle reminder that he could perceive so much more than you could and deciding to let him distract you from the pain of his ministrations with conversation. You didn't typically talk much during your moments together, but given the circumstances, you'd let it slide this time.

"Kidnapping, almost. Saved the girl, but the bastard got away."

"How?" He questioned, head cocked to the side, gaze still affixed to where he was tenderly cleaning the wound.

"Had an accomplice and a boat waiting. His friend kept me occupied while he made his escape. He popped off a lucky shot and I couldn't go after him once he was away from the pier."

"Tough night." The vigilante muses. "Who's the perp?"

"An asshat named Conrad Clausen. Head of an IT firm, knows his way around the law. Abusive ex. Controlling." Hands clench tightly in your lap. Just the sound of his name got your blood boiling further. You frown harshly, head shaking at your own incompetence. "I only made things worse, somehow. He'll come after her again."

"You'll track him down before that happens." The absolute certainty in his voice gave your pride enough of a spark to break through all the muddled self-loathing and lust that drove all of your thoughts right now. Even if you weren't so sure about your odds of nailing the dude before something could happen again, Daredevil's confidence in you wasn't unwelcome. "And if he's unlucky enough to cross my path before that, well...he'll wish he hadn't."

You couldn't count on both hands the number of unfortunate souls you'd stumbled upon after the devil had gotten to them. That was an understatement if you've ever heard one.

Unwilling to say anything more about it, you only hum, getting used to the stinging of the antiseptic just as he was satisfied it was cleaned to the best of his ability. Setting aside the rag, he dug through the kit again for the padded bandages. Peeling off the adhesive edges, he brought it to your shoulder, probing it gently around the wound.

Your heart thudded heavy in your chest, wishing that his gloves were off so you could feel the skin-on-skin contact. It took everything in you not to drag him forward by the neck of his suit and demand his attention in other, more sensitive places. The sudden grin that lit up his face drew your attention.

"Easy there. Your heart starts beating any faster and you might pass out."

You huff, appalled that he could indeed hear the damn thing pounding away like a drum in your chest. Because of course he could. Your glare could set fire to a building. "I've had a hell of a fucking night, and now you're taking your sweet ass time to patch me up."

"Why the rush?" He asks, tone clearly giving away his mirth.

"Careful, devil. I've got no patience for foreplay." Your words come out as a frustrated hiss, the first of your mental restraints beginning to fray. You'd been riled up for far too long, and your only potential outlet was kneeling there not touching you in the ways you wanted. Fists clenched into the thin cot mattress.

"Clearly." The venom in your words does nothing to put a damper on his smile.

With a few more gentle presses around the edges of the bandage, he pulls back to assess his handiwork. You're courteous enough to let him replace all the medical supplies back into the first aid kit before he stood and turned away to return it to its place in the cupboards.

Hungry eyes raked down the lines of his suit, taking in the way his pants really did wonders for his ass, and you felt the last of your dwindling patience crumble away. The devil sure knew how to be incredibly tempting.

Lifting up from the cot, the distance between you and him is a meager two steps. You traverse that in less time than a single draw of breath, grabbing his arm and turning him to shove him back against the cupboards.

He's still wearing that infernal little smile as he faces you, eyes hidden behind red lenses. "As your attending nurse, I'd suggest not moving that shoulder-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Shoving aside all pretense, you take hold of his suit collar and drag his mouth down to yours. It's crushing and needy, and had you been in a better headspace, you'd balk at just how strongly it screamed of desperation. But the clouds of unresolved failure, loathing, and rage that had settled on your soul seared a straight path through anything and everything else.

Sharp reflexes mean he's quick to reciprocate, though you can still feel the infuriating shape of amusement lift his mouth as he let you kiss him with nothing short of fury. One hand draws up to press at the back of his covered neck, wanting there to be no space between you.

Gloved hands settle at your uncovered waist, but pull you no closer than what your untamed lust already demanded. Too wound up to question why he wasn't meeting you with an equal ferocity, your tongue licks across his bottom lip with purpose, a request as much as a command. Without hesitation he lets you in, tangling his own with yours in a familiar dance.

He's intoxicating, you can't deny. Daredevil wielded an intensity that no other man had ever come close to matching. His attention, when directed at you, was full and overwhelming. A great wave of physical sensation that he let crash over you without apology. Some nights, it was all you could do to keep your head above water and survive the torrent. Others, his ocean storm met with a hurricane of your own making, and your foxhole was the no-mans-land where war waged under stale sheets and pale yellow lamp light.

Tonight, the tides were low, the waters strangely calm. In no mood for serene seas, you maintain your grip on his suit, dragging him backwards and away from the cupboards to be closer to your cot somewhere behind. You wanted it now, whatever he was going to give you.

Your calves hit the edge of the cot, but before your momentum can bring you tumbling backwards together, his hands tighten against your waist and hold you to him. His mouth unfortunately parts from yours.

"Why-?"

"I said I'd take care of you, so let me." His words are breathless and pleading, his masked forehead settling against your own. "Please?"

Confusion mars your expression as you stare into the red tint of his mask's eyes. This close, you could faintly see the dark eyes of the man beneath flicker back and forth with subtle movement. You'd never known this devil to be anything but full of vindictive rage. Righteous purpose, barely contained in the confines of a man. There was playful flirting on occasion, but nothing close to this...warm affection that you were now being confronted with.

Anger flaring, you found yourself nodding, but you'd get what you wanted. If you had to fight tooth and nail to get it, so be it.

"Say it." He urged.

"Fine. Take care of me." Your hands snake down his chest, ghosting over the hardened indentation of his cock from underneath his pants. He huffs a breath at the tease. "But don't make me wait for it."

Another grin splits his lips, before he reaches down and wraps his hands behind your thighs, lifting with an ease that stirs deep in your belly. Instead of your back being pressed to the wall like you expected, like you desperately hoped for, he instead fell carefully to his knees atop the cot, lowering you down onto the covers beneath. This new position slotted his hips directly against yours, that bulge you'd caressed before now flush against the heat of your cunt through layers of clothing.

You gasped, feeling the first true licks of sensation you'd been craving since he'd shown up. Lifting your hips up, seeking more, you're kept in place by the unrelenting strength of his own pressing down. Feeling the skin of his fingertips drift along your jawline—so focused on his body being pressed to yours, you hadn't noticed he'd taken the gloves off—you startle and snap attention back to what little of his face you can see.

Lips slightly parted, the gaze of his mask so centered onto your expressions, watching and observing with a tilted head, as if savoring the sight of you beneath him as his fingers dip down below your jaw and along the exposed skin of your neck. The mask dips, and you swallow as his fingers pass along the hollow at the base of your throat, then further down towards the sports bra still covering your breasts.

You're swift to lift up, hands reaching for your bra to discard, but the man is quicker, snatching your hands before you can touch the fabric and pressing them into the cot above your head.

"Devil-" You start to warn with a growl, electing not to finish the sentence as he slowly shakes his head.

Anticipation coils with your frustration, but at this point you're not sure which one is winning out. Still, you give a valiant effort in removing your wrists from beneath his grip, desperate to take what you want as fast as you can get it, but he doesn't relent. Completely at his mercy.

What he does offer, you take as if you're starving for it. The kiss he leans down to give you takes on that ravenous intensity as you engage again, but he keeps his pace slow and purposeful. And when you are just beginning to feel light-headed and in need of air, his lips slant down past your lips, over the curve of your chin, setting on a meandering path down where his fingers had trailed just moments before. The stubble on his face scratches with a pleasant sting.

The scrape of teeth along your throat earns him a low whine, a gasp following closely as he switched to the wicked, wet heat of his tongue. You feel the burning fire of each little circle he paints upon your skin, scorching you and simultaneously fanning the flames of need. Lower and lower it goes, finally reaching the top hem of your bra. Your skin practically hums in anticipation of the removal of the last barrier blocking that talented tongue of his from where you wished he'd put it to use.

But rather than remove the offending garment, he simply ghosts down over it to your stomach, continuing on as if there had been no interruption at all.

You keen a pathetic little noise, low in your throat, pushing again at the strong hand restraining your wrists. Still, he doesn't give.

"We have all night, sweetheart." It's barely more than a whisper against your abdomen, but still it sends a shiver down your spine. It's all you can do to ignore the way his term of endearment—he'd never called you that before—now ricocheted between your ears, stirring your belly further with each bounce.

His mouth traverses the last few inches of your belly, and despite all of the tension still coiling in your muscles, shoulders and back, there's this growing sense of peace radiating from your bones beneath. As if your body knew, given time, it would have what it wanted.

Wielding impatience as a weapon, you fought for faster gratification, wanting an immediate relief to your internal chaos. Daredevil's pace never quickened, savoring your skin in a way he'd never done before. Despite his determination never to kill, the bitter darkness that spouted from that mouth was really something. Who knew the same one could feel so soft against skin? Honestly, you were floored by the way you silently craved for him to take all the time he wanted to explore your body, lavishing it to his heart's content. No man had ever left you feeling this wanted.

Hands made for fighting traced your skin with softness, like it was delicate paper beneath his fingers. Hot breaths swept tingling waves of toe-curling want across the scar-littered canvas at his disposal. There was something like reverence in the way he caressed you.

And that scared you the most. This...thing between you and the vigilante, it wasn't supposed to be about feelings. The heart wasn't supposed to have anything to do with it. He'd been fine with that, and so had you, when it all began. This, though...this felt like something entirely more.

What changed? Why was he being like this tonight? He touched you as if he actually cared. As if this whole thing wasn't a transaction.

He touched you like a lover.

The shift in trajectory of his mouth is what finally forced you out of your own head and back to the present. His hand not holding down your wrists had been swirling gentle circles into your side, but now it slowly rose at the same pace of his tongue. And when he finally reached your bra on the way back up, his fingers dug beneath the band and lifted.

You squirmed in place, thankful that your breasts were free from their confines. You want nothing more than for his hand to take hold of the flesh and squeeze until the pain nearly edged against the pleasure, but his fingers drift no more than feather-light trails along the underside.

Arching your back and attempting to press yourself into his touch gets you no closer to your desires. He merely presses a soft kiss into the valley between your breasts. It becomes painfully obvious that to get what you wanted, you'd have to go at the vigilante's pace.

"Please..." You whimper, deciding you're not above begging if it helped to speed this process up in any way.

It earned you a low, male noise at the back of his throat, nearly reward enough. A half-hearted rut of his hips into yours made your eyes close in pleasure. Confirmation that he wanted this just as bad as you. Perhaps you'd push to see just how far his own patience would run...

Eyes shot back open, mouth parted in a moan as his tongue finally—finally—found its way to the peak of one breasts. Circling around the tight nub and sucking it into his mouth to taste in full. His hand rolled the other between two fingers, tugging and pinching whenever he felt like it. You writhed beneath his ministration, wanting more but having no way to grasp it.

There was no respite to his touch, endless and yet so ridiculously restrained. Like a meal to be savored, he took his time swirling the nub from various directions, tongue mindlessly circling in whatever way felt right.

And god, did it feel right, you thought through a haze of pleasure.

You think you hear him murmur something into your skin, but your own panting breaths muffled whatever it might have been. Given his unexpected intimacy tonight, you don't dare ask him to repeat it. When he doesn't seem to wait for a response, mouth switching to your other breast and giving it the same attention, you lack the attention span to give it further thought.

Another impulsive arch of your back has your clothed cunt brushing against the crotch of his pants, earning a stuttered groan from the devil. It must be torture, being so hard in that tight costume. He hardly acknowledges his own need, so focused on you. A throb pulses through you, deep to your very core.

Part of you wonders if he could hear the way your heat aches for him, or perhaps could smell the spike of arousal that accompanied it, because his fingers reach down to start undoing your own pants, shaking just enough for you to take note.

One-handed, it's a little difficult for him to accomplish—the plea for him to let you go is pointedly ignored—but with a little shimmy and lift of your hips, they're pulled down to your knees, exposing the wetness that begged for attention. Daredevil's sharp inhale and barely restrained growl is proof enough that his senses are going haywire with all of the intense stimulus.

You'd never wished so much in your life to be able to hear someone's heart beat. Was his just as fast as yours, pounding away at the sight of you laid bare?

Calloused hands glide with fascinated purpose across the exposed skin of your thigh. A glance at his mask confirms that he was focusing intently on your lower half, head tilted and gaze a little to the right of your center. Slowly, those fingers ascend closer to the apex, and you feel yourself holding your breath for their inevitable arrival.

The wait is agonizing, each second a torturous minute in your own mind. Your hips squirm, desperate and needy. Fuck, you just wanted it now.

Daredevil leans in close, lips brushing over yours in the chastest kiss you think you'd ever had.

"Breathe." Is his whispered reminder against your lips, panting lightly himself. All the while you can still feel his glove trailing your thigh absentmindedly. "Relax, sweetheart."

A stuttered pair of in- and exhales is all you can manage, body so strung up on the line that you think one good pull would snap you in half. His lips press to your own once more, guiding you through a methodical, easy kiss. It's the anchor point that keeps you from flying apart. A rock to cling to, weathering the storm.

You're thrown head-first into the current the moment his meandering touch reaches your wetness.

A sharp gasp into his mouth morphs into an elongated moan when two fingers slide easily through the heated arousal coating your entrance. A physical ache tears through your body as the appendages circle around your clit, teasing and promising so much and yet avoiding it all the same. He denied you again when your hips rose of their own volition, seeking a true release.

An absolute bastard, the devil could be. And willingly at his mercy is where you'd put yourself. Fool. You were a goddamn fool.

Each swipe of his fingers pulls another shuddering twitch out of your assaulted nervous system, the stimulation overwhelming and yet not enough. Despite all that, you still notice the devil's throat bob with a heavy swallow, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Knowing the way his senses work, you wouldn't be surprised if he could taste your need on the air.

"Don't...tease..." Words are getting difficult to speak, brain so focused on chasing that blessed release. Pulling your hands again gives you about an inch of movement, but then the devil's hands tighten again, preventing all further resistance. As if in retaliation, his thumb lowers to swipe right across the hood of your clit, eliciting shocks of incredibly intense pleasure so suddenly. Head thrown back into the cot beneath, a curse escapes you—breathless, no more than a hiss, ending in a pathetically desperate keen that would have been embarrassing in any other setting.

You expect some teasing remark from the devilish maestro currently playing your strings, but he only hums low in his throat. As if watching you get wound up so tight by his own hand was equally satisfying. His pace is steady, the pressure just enough to give you want you wanted, without really getting you anywhere.

Your inner muscles clench around nothing, thighs squeezing against his hips that prevented them from completely closing. The devil groans, nearly too quiet to hear, and you're so close to outright begging him to have mercy at this point. That all depended on your ability to actually form the words, of course. Stuttered moans were about the only thing you were currently capable of voicing at the moment.

Something shifted. This time you heard the way the vigilante's breath stuttered in time with your own, need coloring the way he swore under his breath. Your wrists were released as he snatched his hand away—the unexpectedness of it meant you were too dazed to take advantage of your newfound freedom.

Your own warnings are the rough scratch of his jaw along the skin of your inner thighs, and the way he grips them from the top. You have all of a half second to register what that meant.

The moment the wet heat of his tongue meets the needy drip of your cunt, recognition shoots immediately through your body. Back arching off the cot with a moan so broken that at first you didn't realize it was you, your now unrestrained hands scrabble for the back of his helmet. Where his fingers took their time, his tongue held nothing back, licking and swirling along all the folds that had you seeing white. If the vigilante had an instruction manual on completely taking you apart, he was following it to the damn letter.

His helmet was smooth at the back, giving you nothing to latch on to. The short, rounded horns at the front weren't enough to get a full grip upon, but they were your only possible leverage. The heels of your hands pressing them closer to your entrance, you attempt to lift your hips to seek more. His hands are like vices at the tops of your thighs and hold you in place, content to ravish you at the pace he chose.

The small foxhole echoes with your breathless litany of curses and a shaking moans. Beneath it you can hear the wet sounds of the devil's tongue working your core, his teeth making their debut when he scrapes it along the outer folds. The full-frontal assault of pleasure has you soaring closer to climax faster than you were used to, filling you with a strange sense of alarm.

There's no warning as you hurtle straight into your orgasm, throat constricting around a whine as your muscles contract with pulsing pleasure, limbs shaking in his grasp. His mouth never stops working, lapping at the arousal that he's worked so hard to produce. The thundering rush of blood behind your ears muffles, as the seconds tick. Overcome by a floating sensation, you feel all of the tension wash away like the ebbing of a tide. Warmth envelopes your body, peace just behind it.

Overstimulation cuts through the haze like a knife.

Nerves flashing in warning at the continued attention of the Daredevil's tongue, you're yanked back down to reality and twitch underneath his grasp with rough jerks. "D-devil...!" You manage through a hoarse whisper.

"One more." Is all he mutters, breath fanning across your engorged flesh before his tongue drove into your heat with purpose.

He's merciful enough to give your clit momentary respite, focusing instead on licking a full stripe up the folds that were slicked with his saliva and your own arousal. The subtle vibrations of his pleased groans only serve to wind you up further. The cot moves a little, and a glance down confirms that his hips slowly and steadily dig into the bed to alleviate some of his own ignored need.

All attempts at sitting up, at trying to lean down to reach the crotch of his pants pressed flat into the cot, are foiled by the position he has you in.

Any thoughts of reciprocation go out the window when his mouth pressed to your clit once more and sucked. The nerves, having settled somewhat from the first orgasm, now flared with renewed pleasure. Shocks of overstimulation still lingered, but the promise of another climax was outweighing everything else.

This time, it's slower to build. Sharp snaps of intense pleasure course in unpredictable pulses. Rising with haste, before pulling back, edging the sweet release. Your cries take on a high-pitched, borderline sobbing quality. One hand still pressed to the back of his helmet, pushing him as close as he could be, the other covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle all of the noises being pulled from your lungs.

Clearly, the devil took issue with that.

Without stopping or even looking up from his work, one hand unlatched from your thigh and pulled on the crook of your elbow. Fingers thread through yours as he finally gets hold of your hand, keeping you from pulling away and simultaneously giving you something to grip while he drags you towards euphoria again.

Later, you might question where all this intimacy was coming from, but for now you just wanted to cum.

So close now. Perhaps sensing this, Daredevil zeroed in on your clit. A snatch of teeth against the sensitive bud was followed up with that devilish tongue, licking and suckling away the pain, promising pleasure. Your free thigh presses in, trapping his head between your thighs as you press upwards into his mouth, moans hitching with each rushed breath.

The second time feels more intense, somehow. Subtle in its arrival, and yet filled your shivering body with such immense satisfaction and relief that you barely utter a sound as it crashed through you. That is, until the need to breathe hits, and you suck air into your lungs greedily.

The vigilante's pace slows as you ride out the sensation, not slowing until you lay boneless against the cot, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths.

The ringing in your ears ebbs until the world feels muted. You fear reality would be a rough landing place to come back to after such a sweet high, but it's not as unwelcoming as you feared.

Blinking away the tears that had leaked out the corner of your eyes and dampened your mask, you lift your head just enough to see a smug devil between your legs, the side of his head leaning against the same thigh hand softly caressed, smiling that damned little smile that was making your already overworked heart do little flips. The lower, visible half of his face glistened from your wetness, and fuck, if that sight wasn't one of the sexiest things you'd ever seen...

Fatigue, however, clouds over any further lustful thoughts you might pursue. The night had been long. Stressful. And after letting the devil work you over, all that remained was the creeping need for sleep. You fought it with all you had, aware that he hadn't gotten the same attention.

Something in your eyes must have given you away, because he turns his head to place a gentle kiss to your thigh, before rising enough to fully remove your pants. You catch a glimpse of his still fully-tented crotch, a twitch of your fingers as you feel the desire to reach out and touch.

The sight of him lifting the blanket from the cot to cover your body makes you frown.

"But you haven't-" You start to argue, pleasure and exhaustion slurring your speech and slowing all movements to the point of ineffectiveness.

"Not tonight, sweetheart." The tenderness in his voice nearly undoes you. The devil wasn't supposed to have a heart. And yet somehow he had found one. "Just get some sleep. You need it."

The fight leaves you, desire to rest and fall back into this blissful peace too strong to resist any longer. He lifts the blanket again and lets it drape across your nude body, offering protection from the chill in the air as the heat that had worked itself through you began to dissipate. You curl up into the softness, still resisting the heaviness of your eyelids since he hadn't yet left.

You hear him shuffling around, doing what you're not sure. But eventually it stops and he's kneeling down beside you. His hands—now sporting gloves once again—move your hair out of your face with a soft touch. Fingers drift down to glide along your jaw until they settle just beneath your chin in one smooth motion. The smile he sports is just as soft, if not thoughtful.

"Be safe, alright?" He plies, thumb drifting over your chin with absentminded intent. You nod, blinking slow against the fatigue, not wanting to fall asleep with him still here. Regrettably, he releases your chin and stands to step away. "See you around."

Your eyes track him to the edge of your vision from where you lay, hearing him trek up the stairs from where you'd come, and shutting the door behind him on his way out. Silence settles, feeling eerie and out of place after all of that.

One last sinful thought ushers in as you drift off, wondering if he'd take care of himself to the thought of you coming undone by his own hands and mouth. Would he wait until he got home to the privacy of his bed, or cave in to the need and duck down a darkened alley? Would he savor it, take it slow, like he had with you? Or rush to cum because he couldn't wait another second?

Would he whimper your name—well, vigilante name, unfortunately—as he came to completion, cock in his hands?

You certainly hoped so.

A/N - This one ended up being way longer and more involved than what had been my original intention, but hopefully worth it? Let me know if you enjoyed! More spicy content to come, I'm sure...

[jetblack4realz]

lake days vii - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - after the mission, you and the dagger squad take it back to texas ;)

pt i , pt ii , pt iii , pt iv , pt v , pt vi

warnings - no

word count - 3.8k

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you weren't surprised when maverick chose bradley and then fanboy and payback. they worked well together and as you'd all come to learn, you and rooster did not. you didn't exactly know why, but you all knew it wasn't going to work. and well, you knew maverick couldn't trust jake. it was hard for anybody but you to trust jake.

and so you were content sitting back in the radio room, waiting for their two minute timer to go up and them to come home. you walked phoenix out to her jet with a smile, clapping her on the back and giving her a quick hug before she climbed into the front seat, bob already seated behind her.

when you went to see jake, who was waiting in his own f-14 in case they needed help, you were stopped by rooster.

"hey," he breathed out.

you smiled at him. "hi."

"look, i don't know if i'm coming back from this and i just wanted to say that i'm sorry and that i-"

"it's okay," you laughed lightly. you rested a hand on his arm assuredly. "don't worry. sure, it was frustrating in the moment - or moments, but i know you're a good pilot and you weren't doing it on purpose. we're good brad."

"good. thank you," he said.

"anytime. we're friends for a reason, aren't we?" you asked. his expression changed slightly and you were frustrated to have seen it, but you continued anyways. "good luck."

you patted his shoulder and passed him, heading for where jake was waiting for you outside his jet. as you approached, you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, something you'd grown accustomed to over your time together. but, you couldn't and you were really starting to hate it.

it seemed like you two were on the same page.

"now would be the perfect time to out ourselves," he mumbled with a slight frown. "i still don't like the way bradshaw's lookin' at you."

"well, he's officially been friendzoned, so it's fine," you answered. "and honestly, i really don't think now's the time to get in his head. he's got a mission to complete, and as much as you seem to hate him, even you want to see him come home."

he sighed dramatically before nodding. "yeah, you're right."

you watched him carefully, brows furrowing slowly. "this really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"well, yeah, hell it's kinda killing me," he answered, looking passed you and to where bradley was getting in his own jet. "he shouldn't be allowed to look at you like that."

"hey," you said quickly, raising a hand to his cheek to pull his attention back to you. you smiled softly, finger brushing his cheekbone. "even if he is looking at me like that, it doesn't matter. i ain't lookin' at him, i'm only looking at you, baby."

he caught your wrist in his calloused hand, his face still stoic as he nodded. "yeah. alright."

"trust me, honey," you told him, pulling you hand away after catching sight of maverick walking onto the runway. "we'll get one hell of a reaction when we finally let it out. i think coyote's reaction alone will be worth all of this."

"i'm betting on phoenix," he said with a smirk. "she keeps talking 'bout how i should really back off of you now, that you want nothing to do with me. it'll whack her right upside the head when she learns that you're marrying me."

"i think she might have a heart attack," you laughed. an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers and you sighed, glancing up at jake's plane with his callsign inscribed on the side. "stay safe. don't break protocol, okay? only go in if you have to."

"promise darlin'," he told you, a lopsided grin pulling at his lips. "i wouldn't do anything to risk leaving you."

"good," you answered. "i'll see you later?"

"you will," he affirmed with a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently. "go on, you gotta get back inside."

"okay. i love you."

"i love you too, darlin'."

and then you were off.

and then they were off.

hearing maverick get taken down over the radio terrified you, and as you heard phoenix yelling at rooster to not do anything, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach that he would. and he did. when bradley went down you gasped, hand covering your mouth as tears pricked your eyes. coyote put a hand on your shoulder, watching the radio as if it would suddenly say that both your instructor and your flight school best friend were back in the air, but you both knew it wouldn't.

"permission to fly out," jake said insistently, three separate times, each getting progressively more desperate, but he was denied each time.

you were both pissed and intensely grateful. you couldn't take it if you lost him, especially after already losing bradley.

you were muttering quiet prayers as you paced the halls, hours after phoenix and the other boys returned. you'd resorted to walking the ship, not able to get ahold of or find jake, so you didn't hear when maverick and rooster clicked on their locators. and you didn't hear that jake got sent out to save their asses.

"coyote!" you yelled, brows furrowed as everyone rushed down onto the tarmac. "what the hell is happening?"

"they're coming back!"

"who?"

he grinned, ushering you along with him with a wave of his hand. "maverick and rooster!"

"what the hell?" you asked, a smile spreading across his lips as he grabbed your arm, beginning to pull you down the stairs and towards the runway. "how'd they get back?"

"a bag of ass f-14," he told you as you threw the doors open to follow the crowd of cheering people. "caught some bogies and we thought they were gonna go down again, but hangman shot out the last one."

"jake went out?" you cried, brows furrowing as you searched the crowd for where you knew your fiance would be grinning and accepting claps on the back.

"yeah," he laughed, following you into the sea of people. "that's his second live kill. he's a legend."

"mav's a legend!" phoenix corrected as she found your side. "he's an ace now."

"no shit!" you exclaimed with an excited laugh as you glanced at the girl. "he is a legend!" your eyes returned to the crowd and suddenly your face fell, your feet carrying you forward even quicker than you were already moving. "holy hell."

you flung yourself into jake's arms, gasping quietly in his ear as he chuckled heartily.

"miss me, sweetheart?" he asked with a grin when you pulled back.

"you didn't tell me you went out," you said with a narrowed gaze.

"it was last minute. i didn't know mav and rooster were coming back so soon," he defended, hands in the air.

"could've radio'ed me," you muttered.

"i'm sorry," he sighed before a small grin creeped onto his lips. "but aren't you proud of me? that's two."

you laughed lightly, settling back on one foot as you crossed your arms over your chest. "yes, i'm very proud of you hangman."

another voice caught your attention.

of course, it was bradley, but to both yours and jake's surprise, he wasn't calling for you - he was calling for jake.

you stepped back, allowing the two men to shake hands with the most camaraderie you'd ever seen from them.

"thank you," bradley told him, a certain genuine tone to his words. jake grinned widely.

"anytime, rooster."

bradley's eyes fell to you for a moment and you offered him a smile.

"i'm glad you're home safe, bradley," you told him.

he hesitated for a few moments before he opened his mouth, his brows furrowed slightly. "y/n, i-"

"bradley!"

maverick had perfect timing, you decided. the two hugged and it was an awfully sweet moment, one you were happy to clap for, jake and phoenix coming to your sides and doing the same.

"so, this is our group now?" you asked with a grin as maverick addressed the lot of you. "the dagger squad?"

"yep," mav answered. "you'll stay stationed here in miramar, all of you. you're my team now."

"sick," fanboy laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"and our first order of business," maverick continued, walking down the length of the hangar that served as the classroom. he grinned as he looked at hangman and rooster. "beach day."

"what do you have against the beach, bronco?" phoenix asked with a laugh as she pushed you towards where fanboy had set up a few umbrellas.

"nothing," you answered, dropping your cooler of beers on the sand and letting the boys unpack it into their own hands. "there's just not much to do."

"not much to do?" coyote almost sounded offended at the prospect. he gestured to the beautiful oceanside. "look at this! there's a whole world of things to do!"

"like what?" you asked, hand on your hip as you chuckled at your friends. "we do the same things every saturday. volleyball, football, tan, eat, fall asleep, watch rooster build sandcastles, and repeat. not much else."

"and what's wrong with that?" rooster asked with raised brows.

you laughed as you popped the tab of your own beer. "i have nothing against the beach, guys. it is fun hanging out with y'all. i'm just more of a lake girl myself."

"what can you do at a lake that we don't do at the beach?" coyote asked.

"bronco here has a boat," hangman answered for you, grabbing your beer and taking a swig of it with a smirk. "and damn does she love her boat."

"what do you have a boat for?" rooster asked.

"lake days!" you exclaimed with a laugh. "i grew up boating and trust me, it's so much better. have y'all never been on a boat?"

"just the carrier," phoenix hummed. the rest of them shrugged.

"you're in the navy!" you exclaimed, looking at them with wide eyes.

"we don't hang out on boats, bronco, we just land on them," rooster said with a goofy grin.

"that's a shame," hangman said, his smile wide. "boats are a good time."

"and how would you know that, hangman?" phoenix asked. "and how did you know bronco's got a boat?"

"i've been out on her boat, and let me tell you her family is wild for water sports," he laughed. the team stared at y'all in surprise. "what?"

"you hung out with her family?" bob asked.

"we were both stationed back home in texas. i thought i'd invite him out, what's the big deal?" you asked.

"well, when are we getting invited out too?" coyote asked. "i'd like to see what all the fuss is about."

"well, next time y'all are in texas give me a shout," you said with a grin. "i'd be happy to take you out."

you didn't know exactly how it happened, with a bit of jake's coercion you were sure, but you'd managed to plan a memorial day lake trip, convincing your friends to buy cheap $60 plane tickets and stay with you. admiral simpson had surprisingly allowed y'all an extra two days off, making the five day weekend more worth the trip.

"welcome to texas everybody," you said with a smile as you walked out of the airport towards the parking lot.

"home sweet home," jake said, jogging to catch up to you as two large trucks pulled up, hooting and hollering coming from them. "if it ain't mr. l/n!"

"jake seresin!" you dad laughed through the rolled down window. "throw your things in the back and get in, i wanna hear all about your adventures in fightertown."

"i can't tell you much more than your girl here can," he said with a grin.

"she'll be preoccupied with her brothers. get on in, son."

the daggers stared at each other in pure shock - since when had hangman been so close with bronco's family?

"how's your parents?"

and her family with his?

"what else aren't you telling us, bronco?" rooster asked with raised brows. you smiled innocently.

"whatever do you mean, roo?" your grin returned as you approached the other truck, whooping as the window rolled down. "gideon! how's life?"

"hey bradshaw!" hangman caught the man's attention quickly. "get in the truck! you too trace!"

"nah," phoenix said with a smirk. "i'm going with bronco and her fine-ass brother."

the daggers filed into the two trucks, their duffles in the beds as your brother tore out, your dad on his tail as you all made your way back home to the l/n house.

hangman was the first to greet your mother when you walked in, you having approached your father for the first time since you arrived. he pressed a cheek to the older woman's cheek, earning a smile and pat on the arm.

"how are you jake?" she asked as he moved around her to set his bag on the floor beside the island.

"wonderful now that i'm back in texas," he answered truthfully. "y'all gonna be joining us tomorrow?"

"no, no," she said with a wave of her hand. "you guys should have fun without us dragging your party down."

"nah, you're one hell of a party mrs. l/n," he told her with a grin.

"what the hell is going on?" phoenix whispered to bradley for the nth time today.

"i have no clue," he whispered back.

"well, guys, my place is just down the back way if you want to follow me," you called. "don't worry, we'll be back for dinner later. i just want to get your spots set up."

"you don't live here?" bob asked, looking around the large house as you chuckled.

"nah, i built a cute little place just down the road when i was in college. still on the property, just my own," you answered. you grabbed your keys from your pocket, exiting out the back door with the rest of the daggers following you.

"want me to drive?" jake offered, holding his hand out for the keys.

"she's your baby, ain't she?" you asked, tossing them to him as you approached a gorgeous vintage ford f-150. it was a beautiful blue color and in as best a condition as jake could get it in your short visits back home.

"nice truck bronco," payback said, admiring the car.

"thanks," you laughed, climbing in the bed, sitting on the edge as hangman got in the driver's side. at this point, everyone was tired of asking questions, payback ending it with a stern, "you're telling us what's going on later."

bob, phoenix, and rooster joined hangman in the cab whilst payback, fanboy, and coyote sat in the bed with you, hangman pulling out of the back driveway and down a well-worn dirt road towards your humble home.

except it wasn't exactly humble. it was two stories and the picture of a perfect farm house, finished with a wraparound porch and beautiful white shutters.

"woah," coyote mumbled. "i didn't know it was this nice."

as you all carried your bags inside, you started explaining.

"my parents had a deal with us kids," you started. "we could have property out here if we built the place. so, when i wasn't paying off student loans, i was paying for this beauty to get built. i didn't think i'd be joining the navy at the time and was getting ready for a family. and well, you know, plans change. means i've got enough space for y'all. phoenix, you've got a room down here, there's two twins in the other one, and the rest of y'all get air mattresses."

it didn't go unnoticed how jake brought his things upstairs or how he knew where you kept the air mattresses. it didn't pass them by how he hung his keys up on the cowboy hat hanger by the door as if he'd done it a million times or how he mumbled to you something about groceries.

"damn hangman, i knew you liked her, but i didn't think y'all were actually a thing," coyote said with a laugh once you and phoenix had gone to unpack your things. hangman shrugged, leaning against the counter.

"who said we were?"

"everything about this whole situation," payback laughed, gesturing to the room in a circular motion. "you're all close with her family, know her house like the back of your hand, and somehow have rights to drive her freaking beautiful truck?"

"hey, i fixed up that freaking beautiful truck," jake said, pointing at him with raised brows. "of course i get to drive it."

"you fixed it for her?" bradley asked with raised brows.

"'course i did," jake answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "you seen her with a bag of tools? great pilot, terrible mechanic, that girl."

"can't say we would know," bradley answered, looking terribly displeased with everything that was coming out of jake's mouth.

"and why, exactly, do you?" coyote asked with raised brows.

"spent over a year with her," he answered with a shrug. "you learn things."

"and her family?"

"what about 'em?"

"why do you know them so well?"

"you know bronco, she's very charitable. when she learned i didn't have any family nearby she invited me over and it became a recurring thing because i got on well with a few of her brothers. that is the answer to all of your questions, ok?" jake said with a roll of his eyes. he pushed off the counter. "i'm gonna go unpack, i suggest you boys do the same."

"so, what's with you and hangman?" phoenix asked as she pulled a few swimsuits from her bag and placed them in the top drawer. "why does he know this place like the back of his hand?"

"i told you, he's been here for lake days," you shrugged. "no big deal."

"i don't believe that for a second," she laughed, staring you down for a few moments. "and what do you have to say for your truck - or is it 'his baby'?"

"he helped me pick it out when we were last here and fixed it up for me," you said with a wave of your hand. "no big deal."

"and how his things are upstairs and he knows your house like it's his own-?"

"shut up, phoenix," you laughed. "hurry up so we can eat dinner."

dinner with your family was rambunctious, your brothers and their wives joining you all to meet your navy family. your nieces and nephews were excited to meet the aviators, clinging to their legs and asking them a million questions a minute. you could tell that rooster and bob loved it, coyote more than okay with entertaining the four year old eli with his plane stories. your second youngest niece, kayley, refused to leave jake, though.

"come on kaykay, all i want is a hug," you whined, holding your arms out to the three year old as everyone worked on their burgers. she scrunched her face and shook her head, hugging jake around the chest as he laughed.

"told you i'm her favorite," he teased you with a wink. he turned the girl around in his arms, requesting she eat more of her potato salad to which she agreed.

"so, how long have you all known jake?" phoenix asked with a smile, eyeing the man at the other end of the table.

"oh, it's been, what, five, six years?" your dad guessed, his eyes on you. "how many years have you and jake-?"

"six," you said, clearing your throat and offering the daggers a small smile. "he met them six years ago. then he became a regular."

"we love him," your sister-in-law brynlee said. "he's such a sweetheart to y/n."

the daggers nearly choked on their food. hangman, a sweetheart? they had to admit that out of everyone he was the nicest to bronco, but still not particularly kind. always making uncomfortable comments, flirting in all the wrong environments, making sure you never won a game of football.

"well, uh, that's good," bob tried with a smile.

"y/n, what's the plan for tomorrow?" your mom asked.

"we'll be up early to take the boat out," you answered. "these losers haven't been out a day in their lives, so we thought we'd change that. any of y'all are welcome to come, we've just gotta be out of here by seven tomorrow morning."

"we don't want to intrude," tyler said with a shake of his head and a smile. "you guys have fun though. show 'em a good time."

"sure will," you answered. "they're gonna learn all the things; wakeboarding, kneeboarding, wakesurfing, waterskiing, the works. i've even got the murder tube ready to be blown up."

"the murder tube?" payback repeated with raised eyebrows.

"yeah," jake laughed. "and for y'all who've never been tubing before, it's basically a guaranteed wipeout."

kayley caught his attention again, giving you way to continue your talk with your siblings.

"i can come if you need, though, so you can do it all too," your younger brother, darren offered. "or is jake halfway competent?"

"i can drive a boat!" jake defended with a laugh. "i'll drag you with us later. y/n and i have a few tricks to show the squad."

"more?" coyote whispered to payback with wide eyes, earning a chuckle from the man.

"well, sounds like a plan honey. you guys need any help getting everything loaded?" your dad asked.

"nah," you said, leaning back in your chair as you grinned at your friends. "that's what the navy's prepped 'em for."

after you all finished dinner off with some apple pie, your siblings and their kids went home, you and the daggers heading back to your place. they all settled on your couch in comfy clothes, flicking through netflix as you grabbed your keys.

"anyone have any requests for lunches and snacks?" you asked, your phone out with the grocery list.

"cheetos!"

"lunchables!"

"meatballs!"

"beer!"

you winced at that one, jake snickering from behind the couch as he sent you a teasing wink.

"about that..."

"what?" rooster asked, sitting up, a beer in his hand.

"no beer on my boat," you said.

"why?"

"what?"

"but you love beer!"

"you're right, but dehydration mixed with the sun mixed with physical activity leads to a lot of drunk aviators a lot sooner than normal. and that could get dangerous and frustrating really fast, so we'll just stick to sodas, alright?" you said. they all hummed in annoyed agreement.

"makes sense," bob said with a smile. "you got dr pepper?"

"of course i have dr pepper, bob," you laughed. "alright then, well i'm heading to the store. text me if you need anything."

"i'll go with," phoenix offered.

"don't worry about it, trace," jake said as he passed her, holding the door open. bradley was baffled at the whole situation, but jake could tell he was starting to get annoyed, which only pissed him off. "she's already got company."

his grin was wide and satisfied as he followed you out.

phoenix rolled her eyes, looking at the rest of the guys. "this will definitely be an interesting trip."

[elspethdekarios]

I have thoughts about Anders

So I just finished Dragon Age: Awakening (I’ve played through all 3 main games, went back to do the DLC) and I have so many thoughts about how different Anders is pre- and post-Justice sharing his body. I think part of this is the voice actor change in DA2, but his personality seems so different, too. Awakening Anders is sarcastic, always cracking jokes, mostly light-hearted even after everything he’s been through. DA2 Anders has moments like this, but he’s much more intense and brooding. Awakening Anders has a few lines about wanting to settle down with a pretty girl or have a plump wife waiting for him at home, but DA2 Anders is PINING. And with the time skip, it’s a slow burn. Awakening Anders doesn’t strike me as the slow burn type—he’s very flirty and even a little raunchy at times. But Anders in DA2 doesn’t really act like that. He’s got a tortured, romantic soul. He’s much more serious. And maybe it’s just because he’s grown up a little bit, but now that I’ve met Justice as a character before he and Anders become one, I wonder how much of that change is Anders maturing vs. Justice’s personality coming through.

I know this game has been out forever and I’m probably not saying anything new, but Anders is so fascinating to me. More rambling and dialogue analysis under the cut:

The very first thing that struck me as different about Anders in Awakening (other than his general personality) was his response to Wynne telling the Warden Commander that the Libertarians in the Circle want to pull away from the Chantry, and Anders says that it’s a recipe for disaster. SIR! WHO ARE YOU?

Awakening Anders also doesn’t seem particularly interested in justice for mages or revenge for how he and other mages have been treated. He wants his freedom, and I’m sure he wants freedom for other mages too, but he’s not exactly radical like he is in DA2. In fact, it’s Justice who seems to inspire Anders to, well, seek justice. I’m emphasizing some of this dialogue to analyze it below:

Justice: I understand that you struggle against your oppression, mage. Anders: I avoid my oppression. That's not quite the same thing, is it? Justice: Why do you not strike a blow against your oppressors? Ensure they can do this to no one else? Anders: Because it sounds difficult? Justice: Apathy is a weakness. Anders: So is death. I'm just saying.

Justice: I believe you have a responsibility to your fellow mages. Anders: That bit of self-righteousness is directed at me? Justice: You have seen oppression and are now free. You must act to free those who remain oppressed. Anders: Or I could mind my business, in case the Chantry comes knocking. Justice: But this is not right. You have an obligation. Anders: Yes, well... welcome to the world, spirit.

Now, look at this conversation between Anders and Isabela in DA2:

Anders: I don't know how you live the way you do, blithely ignoring the consequences of your actions. Isabela: This is about the Qunari thing, isn't it? I'm not ignoring it. I just recognize that it happened years ago. Isabela: There's this fantastic thing called "moving on." You should try it sometime. Anders: Has it occurred to you that Kirkwall is only just recovering from the Qunari attack? Isabela: And you want me to... what? Flog myself daily? Isabela: Has it occurred to you that maybe there's no justice in the world? Other than that voice you keep in your head.

Isabela sounds more like Awakening Anders than Anders himself does in this conversation. Justice accuses Awakening Anders of ignoring the oppression of other mages like DA2 Anders accuses Isabela of ignoring the consequences of her actions (for the record, I don’t think either of these assumptions are 100% true, but I digress). In Awakening, Anders is cynical when Justice tells him he has an obligation. What can he change? He has to worry about his own survival as an apostate before risking his life even more to save others. Hence the line “welcome to the world, spirit.” Anders is pragmatic, even a little pessimistic, where Justice is idealistic.

But then, the conversation with Isabela! Like Justice tried to convince Anders of his obligation to other mages, Anders now is trying to convince Isabela to take responsibility for her actions. She’s ignoring the unrest that was caused by her stealing the Qunari tome instead of doing something to help—just like Awakening Anders is ignoring his oppressor. 

When Anders and Justice merge, Anders starts to see the bigger picture, the oppression that reaches far beyond himself. From the short story Anders:

I always knew I wouldn't submit. I could never be what they wanted from me -- compliant, obedient, guilty. But before Justice, I was alone. I never thought beyond my own escape: Where would I hide? How long before they found me? Now, even that thought repulses me. Why should so many others live with what I will not? Why must the Circle of Magi stand? Just because it always has, just because those who read Andraste's words twisted them to mean that mages must be prisoners? Why has there never been a revolution? … They will all die. Every templar, every holy sister who stands in the way of our freedom will die in agony and their deaths will be our fuel. We will have justice. We will have vengeance. And suddenly I'm alone, standing in a burning forest, with the bodies of templars and wardens at my feet. So many, and I didn't even know they were there. Didn't even know I had killed them, but the evidence is all around me. Not the aftermath of a battle as I've known it, but a bloody abattoir of rent limbs and torn and eaten flesh. This is not justice. This is not the spirit who was my friend, my self. What has he become? What have I become? We must get out of here. There is no place for me in the Grey Wardens now. Is there a place for me anywhere?

First of all, ow, my heart. But the point is: before he becomes part of Anders, Justice doesn’t feel a personal connection to mages’ freedom—he only cares because of the injustice. But once he and Anders become one, the source of injustice that Anders cares about the most, that he has deep resentment for, that has caused him great harm, becomes Justice’s cause. We know that Justice can sense/feel memories of the body he inhabits because he remembers some of Kristoff’s past, or at least feels connections to certain objects or people even if he can’t explain it. Kristoff was dead, though, so those memories were only fragments. I imagine that with Anders, he can experience those memories more clearly, including, of course, the injustice he and others have suffered at the hands of the templars. Justice is able to integrate into Anders fully, whereas with Kristoff, the body was an empty vessel with remnants of the past soul that was within it. 

Now, let’s talk about where Anders ends and Justice begins, something that even Anders himself is unsure of. Here are some DA2 banters about the division (or lack thereof) between the two of them:

(Outside The Hanged Man, Act 3) Anders: Justice doesn't let me get drunk anymore. I kind of miss it.

(in Legacy DLC) Anders: I've tried to forget about this side of myself. Justice is... so strong. Sometimes the Wardens seem insignificant. But seeing that poor bastard brings it all back. The Darkspawn taint. The call of the archdemon. It's inside me, as much a part of me as Justice.

Anders: Justice once asked me why I didn't do more for other mages. I told him it was too much work. Anders: But I couldn't go back after that. Couldn't stop thinking about it. Anders: Sometimes, I miss being that selfish.

Varric: So, the knight-commander... Boiling in oil? That one never gets old. Anders: This is past time for joking. Varric: I'm helping you indulge in elaborate revenge fantasies. I think it's good for you. Anders: Meredith will die. Do not doubt that. Varric: Go away, Justice. Can Anders come out and play? Anders: [Justice voice] Stop. Varric: You are no fun anymore.

(if Anders was taken to the Fade) Anders: I have tried to avoid the Fade since Justice. It's disturbing when he takes over.

The above dialogues imply that Anders and Justice are two separate entities in one body. The one from Legacy is tricky, since he compares it to the taint, but he still refers to Justice as separate from himself, which is why I included it. And that’s not even touching on the fact that Justice has a different voice than Anders. But these:

Aveline: So you're two people, Anders and... Justice? Anders: That's not strictly accurate. Aveline: But you are of two minds. Anders: Many people are.

Isabela: Hello? Is Anders there? Can I speak to Anders? Anders: You can stop yelling. It's always me. Isabela: Oh, good. I didn't want to talk to that other guy. You know, the stick-in-the-mud. Anders: He can still hear you. Justice and I are one. Anders: Anyway, you wanted to talk to me? Isabela: Not really. I just wanted to make sure it was you.

(If Hawke convinces Anders to give up his plan) Vengeance: Leave! This does not concern you! Hawke: This is Anders's decision, not yours! Vengeance: I am Anders! You have given into sloth. You would stand by while mages are abducted and tortured. Go. Anders has no need of you.

There’s not a clear answer either way. And I didn’t expect to find one. I think a lot of this back and forth is Anders trying to understand who he is now that Justice is part of him. He clearly still feels like he has some level of agency and individuality apart from Justice, but he struggles with it. This feels very anticlimactic, but I guess that’s just the nature of it all.

If you read this far, wow thanks. Now to not leave off on a sad note, here are some DA2 banters that feel very Awakening Anders to me - please enjoy <3

Anders: I keep thinking I know you from somewhere... Isabela: You're Fereldan, right? Ever spend time at the Pearl? Anders: That's it! Anders: You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right? What was her name? Isabela: The Lay Warden? Anders: That's right! I think you were there the night I— Isabela: Oh! Were you the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing? That was nice... Hawke: Please stop talking. Now. (Or if Varric is in the party) Varric: I don't think I need to know this about either of you.

Anders: So, I never expected to be palling around with the captain of the guard. Aveline: We're not "pals." Anders: We're not? What about that time we painted each other's toenails? Aveline: Do you want something? Anders: Love, life, and liberty. What more does a man need?

Anders: Nice day to be planning a trip into the Deep Roads, don't you think? Anders: The Blight, the dampness, the festering darkness filled with tainted rats... Carver: Shut up. Anders: You've got a real chip on your shoulder, you know? Carver: I've got a big blade on my shoulder, magey. Anders: Right. Wonder what you're compensating for.

Fenris: Is there something you want, Anders? Anders: You really don't have the temperament for a slave. Fenris: Is that a compliment or an insult? Anders: I'm just wondering how your master didn't kill you. Fenris: How have the templars not killed you? Anders: I'm charming.

Anders: Is that supposed to be Andraste's face on your crotch? Sebastian: What? Anders: That... belt buckle thing. Is that Andraste? Sebastian: My father had this armor commissioned when I took my vows as a brother. Anders: I'm just not sure I'd want the Maker seeing me shove His bride's head between my legs every morning.

(All dialogue found on the Dragon Age fandom wiki.)

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 9

[Prev] [Next]

ou had barely gotten out of bed in the days that followed your emergency room visit.

You could barely even look at your husband.

This was far beyond Law’s realm of expertise, and he was quickly growing more and more concerned about your wellbeing.  You were barely eating, choosing to spend your days in bed with your head buried in your pillows as if you were trying to disappear completely.  It was incredibly generous that your boss had allowed you such ample time off, but Law knew for a fact that this self-isolation was going to do nothing but exacerbate the cycle of depression that your miscarriage had brought upon you.

Law swallowed a lump in his throat.

Miscarriage.

The word seemed so grim even prior to meeting you.  Now it held an entirely new meaning.  Miscarriage was what led to his wife spending her days alone in their bed, trying desperately to fall into a deep slumber to escape the crushing reality.

Shachi and Penguin had practically moved in with the two of you, helping to cook, clean, and take care of Bepo while Law was at work.  Neither of them had spoken to you, and Penguin hadn’t even looked at you in the days since you came home, no longer pregnant.  It was as if everyone in the apartment was afraid a single breath would shatter you like a pane of glass, tiny, glimmering pieces of a stabbing despair that were impossible to clean up.

Even your boss had come by, two days after you were forced to leave the office to go to the ER.  She had stopped by your apartment with a small basket of goodies as a condolence gift, and while she acknowledged that a few bars of chocolate was probably the least effective medicine for what you had endured, she expressed the desire to make sure you knew that the entire office was rooting for you.

When Shachi placed the small basket on your bedside table, you didn’t even move.

Law was starting to get more and more concerned about the risk of bedsores your constant, curled-up position might expose you to.

Even worse than bedsores, however, was the fact that Law still had to work.  Heart and lung diseases didn’t simply disappear just because you had a miscarriage, and as much as Law’s own heart broke whenever he had to slip on his shoes to leave, he needed to continue his job.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t constantly thinking about you, however.

—

Law’s colleagues often joked that he operated like a robot when arriving at the prep theater.  The way he donned his surgeon’s scrubs and coat was the same way every single time: left arm into the coat, followed by his right, a 180 degree counterclockwise turn so his attending could securely tie the back, followed by his left hand glove, right hand glove, and then a second left glove, and a second right glove.  He had also developed the habit of placing his cell phone in the care of his circulating nurse, should any calls come from you at home.  It wasn’t quite allowed, and it definitely strayed from his own personal philosophy of a hyper-focused operating room environment, but he couldn’t help himself.  Despite this, Law’s second-nature ability to perfectly replicate operating theater etiquette did bring some level of calm to the entire surgery team, especially on days like today.

The cardiac team was about to undergo an estimated 6 hour coronary bypass surgery.

This was just the event Law needed to break out of his mold and return to life as it was about ten days ago.  For the first time since your emergency room visit, Law wasn’t thinking about you.

“Patient is a 45-year-old caucasian male with severe coronary artery disease.  He has experienced two heart attacks prior to this surgery.  We will be undertaking a triple bypass operation.  I understand this is a very daunting task for some of you, however you are expected to remain calm and do your work as you normally do.  Nothing about this particular surgery is any different than any other open heart surgery, just remember this.”  Law explained the procedure to his team in a very bold, emotionless voice.  

The operation began.

The lights in the room were dimmed slightly to allow for better focus from the overhead lamps onto the exposed portion of the patient’s abdomen.  Beside the table, a large machine that would be operating as a temporary heart for the patient was prepped.  The entire team was laser-focused on the patient, Law’s stern, strict aura seeming to radiate outward and affect the rest of his staff with a quiet, pensive attitude.  It wasn’t often to have idle chit-chat during operations considering the stakes at hand, however today seemed particularly tense.

Law led the procedure with a deft hand.  He expertly instructed his assistants with the suction and cauterization as he carefully opened the flesh of the man.  A saw was used to cut through the sternum and expose the pericardium.  Bleeding was carefully controlled and a fast-acting antibiotic paste was used throughout.  After approximately 20 minutes, the patient’s beating heart was fully exposed, the chest cavity held open by metal tools and a frame to fully support the operating window.  

The first cannula was placed into the aorta when Law’s phone began to buzz from the circulating nurse’s coat pocket.  She was standing away from the rest of the team and pulled the device out of her pocket to view the caller ID.  The focus wasn’t broken from the rest of the operating team.

“Silence it,” Law uttered, ingrained in the action of attaching the catheter to the air-tight bypass tube.

“It’s your wife, Doctor,” she awkwardly mumbled.  The phone continued to buzz.

A few awkward glances were tossed around the operating table.  Law simply kept his head down, beginning to search for the right atria to place the second cannula.

“Doctor?” she called again.

“My passcode is 0517.  Just text her and ask her what she needs.”

The anesthesiologist smiled, though it wasn’t visible below his mask.  “Isn’t that your wedding anniversary?”

The assistant holding the cauterizer cooed from across the table.  “Aww, that’s so cute!”

“I hope my husband is that sweet,” sighed the attending nurse.

Law grumbled.  “I’m inserting the venous cannula.  Attention to the patient.”

The room immediately snapped back to intense focus.  Behind them in the corner, the circulating nurse had unlocked Law’s phone and was navigating to his texts, being careful to avoid glancing at any pictures or messages he wouldn’t have wanted her to see.  She found your messages and began typing.

—

Your phone buzzed.

Baby~~<3

Hi, this is Doctor Trafalgar’s circulating nurse!  He’s currently in the middle of an operation but he told me to text you in response to your call.  Is there anything I can help you with or tell him?

You sighed, figuring that was the reason he hadn’t answered his phone.  Beside you, Shachi leaned over and gazed at the screen.

“Hey, can’t knock him for being focused!” he chided, nudging your shoulder.

Sitting with your legs crossed on the couch in your living room, you couldn’t fight the proud grin that formed on your face.  “That’s true… I’d much rather him ignore my call than lose focus on a patient.”

Penguin was in the kitchen, an apron wrapped around his torso as he pulled a tray of chocolate chip cookies out of your oven.  There were already four other trays cooling on the linoleum countertop.  “I think it’s cute that he gives his phone to his nurse in case you call.”

“He probably does that for any incoming call,” you scoffed.

“Nope, he definitely only started doing that for you,” Penguin called back.

Shachi had stood from the couch and not-so-stealthily approached the counter, reaching his hands out to snag a few cookies while they were still warm.  “It’s true, once I called him during an operation without realizing and he didn’t respond for eight hours.  When he finally did call back he was like, ‘Sorry, I got caught up with something.’  Like, dude, you’re a heart surgeon.  I think I could figure that out.”  He plopped back down next to you, passing you a cookie from his hand.

Holding the sweet treat in your teeth, you looked back down at your phone, tapping the text window to begin typing.

—

Law’s attending nurse felt another buzz in her pocket.

Wifey

Omg, im so sorry to interrupt!  Can you just tell him to call me back when he gets a chance?  Tell him its no rush, either, i dont want him to stress LOL

Wifey

Thank you for your hard work, i hope hes not pushing you guys too hard <3

The nurse smiled, replying to your message and placing the phone back in her pocket.

—

Six and a half hours and a very cramped right hand later and Law was finally sitting in the break room with a microwaved dinner of some orzo dish that Penguin had made a few days prior.  He ran a weary hand through his unruly black hair, slightly greasy from the sweat that had accumulated under his surgical cap.  Taking a small mouth full of his dinner and taking advantage of the late-night silence in the break room, he finally opened his phone and tapped on your name, ringing your number.  It was nearing 11:00PM, so he doubted you’d even still be awake, but it was worth a shot anyway.  If anything, it would probably be Shachi or Penguin that would pick up.

The dial tone rang twice before a faint click sound reverberated through the receiver.

[Hi, baby!]

Law’s heart rate doubled its pace at the sound of your voice.  Your voice that he had sparsely heard the last 10 days.  He suddenly wished more than anything that he could end his shift early and race home to see you.

He swallowed his spit.  “Hey, darling, you called me during a surgery, I’m sorry I missed you.”  He truly was sorry.  He felt absolutely terrible about leaving you waiting for six hours, despite his stern and pointed attitude throughout the procedure.  Duty does call, in the end.

[Never apologize, Law, I understand.]  He could hear your exhaustion through the speaker.  [How did it end up going?]

Law pushed his orzo around with his spoon.  “It was a great success, it’s been a little bit since my team and I have performed any sort of coronary bypass surgery, so I think everyone was pretty relieved when it was finally over.”

[That’s incredible…]  You sighed into your end of the line, your airy tone giving away the smile you surely wore across your lips.  [I’m really happy it went well.]

The black-haired man simply hummed.  “Was there something you were calling about earlier?”

[Yeah…] you affirmed, however your voice suddenly adopted a more far-away flavor.  [I wanted to know if you were free this coming Friday.  Dr. Robin gave me a call earlier today and said she wants to get me in for a diagnostic consultation.  I… I don’t really want to go alone anymore.]

Law’s heart sank at the way your words sounded so little.  “I’ll check my availability for you.”

[Thank you, baby…]

“Darling, are you going to be alright until I get home in the morning?”  Law slowly felt his appetite waning as his anxieties about your current state at home were dawning on him.  “I have all day off tomorrow to spend with you, and we can talk about anything for as long as you want.”

[I’ll be alright, I promise.]

“You really promise?” Law confirmed.  It wasn’t like you to be so brief with your words, but at the same time he knew these circumstances were well past the realm of reason.

A dry chuckle bounced through the receiver.  [I really promise.]

Law drew in a deep, heaving inhale through his nostrils.  “Baby, I love you.  I’ll see you in a few hours, alright?”

[I love you too, Law.]

[megangovier]

Movie Night

best friend's dad! James Howlett x fem! Reader

Summary: You're at a friend's house watching a spicy film, James is sat in the middle, you on the right and the friend on the left. A duvet was covering your body, during the film you felt James's hand slid between your thighs.

Warnings: 18+ only // risk taking // hand kink // finger sucking // age gap 20+ // DILF // biting // marking // choking // fingering // grinding // James being a pain slut // sub! James // degrading // cockwarm // pet names // mdni

Movie nights at your friend's house were the best, you'd have your favourite snacks and drinks while watching movies, at times you'd try to pull all nighters, but both of you grew tired. At times you would experiment with different foods and your favourite flavour milkshakes, which at times would turn out to be nice, but at times it would made you both sick. Looking back at all the cockups, it didn't fail to make you both laugh. As much as you loved spending time with your best friend, you also loved spending time with James. James was your best friend's dad, he was so kind and caring towards you. You and your friend was currently sat on the couch watching a film, James had just tucked himself under the covers, in the middle beside you, your friend on the left, you on the right.

James had slipped his hand on your thigh, making you gasp a bit to loudly than you liked "everything okay?" your friend said, looking at her you smiled and said "yes, thank you!" turning back to the TV, your eyes looked at James. He had a smirk on his face, you moved your legs, giving him more access. James sure liked taking risks, he had slid his thumb over your sensitive clothed clit making you bite your lip. Your friend got up from her seat, making your heart pump out your chest not wanting to get caught, with James's hand between your legs. "I'm off to bed now, got a busy day tomorrow! find what you want to watch and don't do what I wouldn't" she winked at you and headed upstairs shutting the door behind her.

James now looked at you with a bigger smirk on his face, your head fell back. Sweet moans escaping your lips, James attacked your neck with bites and kisses. He was pumping his fingers even faster now, legs trembling and ready to come, he removed his fingers and told you to suck on them. Taking them like a good girl, he sat you on his lap with his hand around your throat. His other one in your hand, you looking at it in awe "you have such nice hands, the way the veins pop out when working, or the way it looks with my hair wrapped around it" heat was crawling up your face, pussy was throbbing wanting it to be touched again.

Slowly grinding on James's lap, your lips on his ear nibbling away. A moan left his throat, a smirk appeared on your face "who's my pathetic little pain slut!". Moving off his lap ripping his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. You knelt between his legs, teasing his hard cock. "please, don't tease" nibbling it slightly, a growl left his throat. You moved back onto his lap, fingernails running down his abs "fuck, that feels good". Sliding his Kelvin Klein's down, you were hovering over his aching cock "please fuck me, I need it so bad, i need you so bad!" A whine left your lips as you slam down onto his cock.

"Oh fuck,.yes! just like that bunny" you stopped, making him whimper "why did you stop? whimpers.. "keep going please baby, I fucking need to feel your pussy clenching around me" taking your hips in his hands, he started to move you up and down. Making your pussy clench around him "atta girl, that's it! keep taking it, I know it's big but you're greedy for thick cock, so it's easy for you, must take it all the time don't you slut?" A whine left your mouth. Digging your nails down his V line, his back arched and growls left his throat "god, baby! You're going to make me fucking come".

Enjoy, perverts!😏

[ameenvie]

Last Christmas - Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

"Now I know what a fool I've been, but if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again"

@emeraldsandelderberries asked: jaime x reader christmas request :) maybe a second chance romance a la “last christmas” by wham! ? Word count: 4.3k Warnings: none really! I guess anxiety and panic attacks if you squint, but not really Tags: fluff, second chance, christmas, drama, hurt/comfort A/N: This request was soooooooo sweet!!! AH I LOVED IT, I'm so sorry it's this late! 😭 IT might be a bit more dramatic/moody than you've wanted but I really hope you like it! ❤❤

Christmastime in London was always special to you. You loved how the storefronts all dressed up into colourful decorations and cheerful lights, how the smell of warm cookies filled the air as you passed your favourite bakery on your way to work. Excitement and restlessness filled people’s hearts as they were waiting for a little break at the end of the year, a time of reflection and hope. And honestly you could’ve used a fresh start.

Work was hectic in the office before at the end of the year, but you always pushed through by thinking of the holidays approaching faster day by day. The last weeks before Christmas were all about secret Santas and Christmas gatherings at the office as well.

You were having lunch in the small kitchen at work when your phone lit up with your best friend’s name. She usually doesn’t call, so you answered suspiciously.

“I have a huge favour to ask” she said quickly without even saying hello. You put your face into your palm as you braced yourself for what was about to come and even like that you were shocked at her next words. “I need you to come to the company Christmas Party with me.”

“You what?” you asked, trying to conceal the sudden anger in your voice that was bubbling up inside you. It wasn’t like you to get angry easily, especially not on her, but this time it came so out of the blue. Why would she ask that?

“I know babes, I’m so sorry I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t life or death!”

“How can a Christmas party be life or death?” you asked cynically, drumming your fingers on the table next to your lunch. You’ve lost all your appetite.

“I will die if you won’t come with me, that’s how” she joked, trying to lighten your mood.

“You’re so dramatic” you chuckled, but you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Go on.”

“Look, I don’t want to spend all my evening alone with my coworkers and their families and my rich boss, and insufferable football players!” she started. “You know this is not like a few-drinks-in-the-office kind of party, it’s full bling in a fancy hotel and shitton of food and booze!” you could basically see her waving her hand around while talking. “I thought just the two of us could hang out, get hammered and judge others. What do you say?” You rolled your eyes. She knew this was a compelling offer, but not compelling enough. Not when you could risk running into him.

“Okay, but!” You started and held up a finger like she could see it through the phone. “I have the right to leave at any time I want. Deal?” You heard her let out an annoyed groan at the other end of the line.

“Fine, whatever. I know you’ll love it.”

“I sure will. What do I wear?”

“Go all out babe. I’ll meet you tomorrow at 6. Love yous!” She hung up the call and you placed your phone on the table and just stared at it for a moment.

Your best friend was working at Richmond FC. The football club whose every match you’ve seen since you remember, up until last year. It was your family’s team. Now thanks to Jamie Tartt, you couldn’t even think of the name Richmond. And now your friend wants you to go back there, all dressed up, to an event where you could possibly – or even most likely – meet him and have to talk to him. Have to smile at him like he didn’t break your heart. Like you didn’t cry about him for months after he left.

But you weren’t that girl anymore, were you? Time has passed, you moved on, right? You didn’t cry about him anymore. But the twisting feeling in your gut when you thought about him, when someone mentioned him or even the team, when you saw ads with him told you otherwise. Told you that you in fact, have not moved on. But he doesn’t have to know that.

The walk on the way home was chilly and this time you couldn’t admire the flickering Christmas lights around you on the street, nor the sweet smell of cookies coming from the bakery. Your mind was filled with the thought of him, and the possibility of seeing him again. The thought of your friend being an asshole also crossed your mind a few times, but you knew she didn’t mean any harm. For all she knew you were over Jamie. And you were convinced of that too, but the squeezing feeling in your chest told you otherwise. You didn’t listen though. You didn’t care about him. You didn’t.

You told that to yourself the next day as you looked for that beautiful dress in your wardrobe that you might or might not wanted to wear to impress him. To make him feel like an idiot for throwing you away. You didn’t care about him. As you did your makeup a little more elegant than usual. You didn’t care about him. As you did the finishing touches on your hair. You didn’t care about him.

You picked up your purse and locked the door when you saw your friend calling, meaning she was there to pick you up with a cab. The cold air made you shiver a little and you were thankful for the ride. Wintertime was really not made for having these parties. A thin layer of snow covered the streets and the rooftops, the streetlights painting it a warm hue of gold. You let out a relieved sigh, suddenly you felt calm from the peaceful sight. You hopped in the cab and closed the door. Your friend let out an audible gasp as she looked at you.

“You look fucking fit, girl!” she squealed before she hugged you. You scoffed and chuckled before pulling away.

“Thanks, I guess” you smiled, heat crawling to your ears. Your friend gave the address of the venue to the cab driver, and you were off into the night.

“You really did go all the way, huh?”

“Your wish is my command!” you smiled at her, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“I got you something” she said and started to rummage through her small purse before she pulled out a small bottle of liquor. You laughed.

“Aren’t we going to a party with unlimited free booze?”

“Wanted to have a moment for just the two of us. No offense” she chuckled and looked at the cab driver who smiled back at her. “Thanks for being here.”

“My pleasure” you replied and took a sip out of the bottle. You felt the liquid burn your throat before you handed it to her. Truth be told, you felt alright. Together with your best friend, dressed to the nines, having a fun night out. Who cares about Jamie Tartt?

When you stepped inside the giant ballroom, your breath got caught in your throat. You’ve been to fancy places before – mostly with Jamie -, but nothing of such magnitude. The room was framed by insanely tall walls with red velvet covering, and shiny accents. Christmas ornaments and decorations hung from the ceiling next to the chandeliers, and there was a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner, next to the stage where the band played soft jazz music. Round tables occupied half of the room in a neatly organised pattern, the other half was the dancefloor.

Kind men took your coat, and you clutched your purse to try to calm your nerves. You felt like you didn’t belong, you stuck out like a sore thumb among these gorgeous and rich people. You felt your friend’s hand squeeze your own as she led you further into the room.

“It’s gonna be fine. We’re eating, getting wasted, dancing then going home, ‘kay?”

“Okay” you breathed. You didn’t dare to look around the room in case you recognised someone. Him.

The two of you made a beeline towards the bar and ordered your favourite shot that you drank immediately. You hoped it would calm your nerves a little.

“Easy girl, the night is still young!”

“That’s especially why I’m drinking” you chuckled. You felt a tap on your shoulder and your heart dropped to your stomach, blood freezing in your veins. That was until you’ve turned and saw Sam’s face and his thousand-watt smile.

“I knew it was you! It’s so good to see you!” he cheered, his accented voice ringing in your ear as he hugged you.

“Sam, oh my God! Look at you, you look amazing!” you answered and rested your hand on his arms. “How you’ve been?”

“Good, good! We have a lot to catch up on, you should write sometimes y’know!” Fuck.

“I know, I’m sorry.” A frown settled on your face, and he immediately tried to lighten the mood.

“Just messing with you. But hey, make sure to come say hi to the others later, okay?” he said, and he gestured to the other side of the room, and your gaze instinctively followed. Mistake.

There he was, in all his glory, as tall and handsome as ever. His hair was different, a bit longer and had highlights in it. It really suited him. He wore a slightly unbuttoned shirt and had its sleeves rolled up, his jacket discarded on a nearby chair.

You’ve felt like throwing up, the content of your stomach making somersaults nonstop. Yet you smiled like nothing happened and nodded at Sam. Your friend who you haven’t spoken to in months because he reminded you of Jamie. What an asshole move. And he was so kind he just forgave you.

“We sure will” you answered and squeezed his arm before you let go. And as he turned you sneaked another peek in Jamie’s direction. You felt lightheaded as his gaze caught yours and you looked away in a blink of an eye, turning your back at him.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry, look, we can just leave” your friend whispered as she looked at you concerned, but you just shook your head.

“I’m fine, really. When is dinner again?”

“In like half an hour” she replied.

“Mint, I’ll catch my breath outside and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s fine, really” you protested. “It’ll be just a minute, promise.”

“Fine” she sighed as she rubbed your arms. “But just a word and we’ll be out of here!” You nodded and headed towards the door that led to the back garden. Your steps were quick, and you had your head low to avoid anyone stopping you in your track. But you felt like your heels were too loud, that everyone was looking at you, that he was looking at you. In reality, only one of those was true.

As you opened the door, the cold air bit into your skin as you stepped outside. The garden was gigantic, and the grass was covered in a thin layer of snow. There were gravel paths going around in twisty patterns curving around shrubbery and statues.

To your surprise there were standing tables outside accompanied by tall heaters. You weren’t cold but you knew it was just temporary, so you took a beeline towards one of the heaters and stood next to the table under it. It was kind of magical, hearing only the distant music from the ballroom and nothing else, watching the snow-covered garden. You felt your heartbeat slow down and anxious thoughts leaving your head.

You heard footsteps approaching and you turned towards them with a smile, thinking it was Sam or your best friend. Of course, that was not the case. He took his jacket back on, but the top buttons on his shirt were still undone. He looked at you with a shy smile.

“I knew I saw you” he said, his hands in his pockets. You knew he was fiddling with them like he always did. You didn’t reply and you weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the anger. You stood in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Me neither” you replied, and your voice was colder than you thought it would be. It was perfect. He just couldn't see how he ruined you. He just couldn't.

“I can leave if you want?” he said, but it was almost like a question. A question you didn’t really know the answer for. Did you want him to leave? Or were you just over the moon that he was there, standing in front of you, with a heavy heart and a shy smile? You kind of never wanted that moment to end. You felt pathetic and you looked away from him, which he took as a cue to leave. “It’s alright. It was nice seeing you. You look beautiful.” What an asshole. What right does he have to call you that?

He turned his back on you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at your shoes. The fancy shoes that you might or might not picked out to impress him. You did get what you wanted didn’t you? He did call you beautiful. So why was it making you so angry?

“I just” he hesitated before continuing. “Wanted to say I’m sorry. Truly.” You looked up at him. His body was halfway turned from you, and he looked back, head hung low and a few strands of his hair fell into his eyes. Your ears were ringing as your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I was a royal prick. And you-“ he scratched his throat. “You deserved better. And you deserve better than me ruining your night, so I’ll leave you be. Sorry. Truly, it was nice seeing you.” he said and turned away. You felt like your mouth acted on its own as you called out after him. His gaze snapped back and met yours.

“Would you-“ you paused. “Like to stay a bit?” You could see his shoulders relax as he let out a breath he was holding. A smile found its way past his lips as he stepped closer to you under the heater.

“I’m glad you asked because I started to freeze my arse off” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But he was still very aware of his situation.

“Yeah, why can’t these company parties be held in the summer? You get all dressed up only to freeze your tits off” you smiled back at him. He was leaning against the table as he looked at you. It somehow felt right, being there with him.

“Well, some of us are more dressed up than others” he grinned as his eyes wandered up and down on your body. You pretended you didn’t see it, but the rising heat in your body said otherwise.

“I know, Rebecca looks insanely good tonight” you said to deflect the compliment.

“Yeah, she’s really good at this glam thing. Kinda jealous of her.” You cocked your eyebrow at him, but you didn’t say a word. Signalling him to go on. “Most of the times I just can’t wait to bolt at these events.”

“Why don’t you? Are you on the clock or something?” you asked, clutching your purse for dear life. The more reasonable part of your brain said you should just tell him to piss off. But you didn’t.

“Nah” he shrugged. “I just like the company a bit more than usual.”

You felt your heart flutter at the compliment. Then you immediately felt sadness. Then anger.

“Jamie, why on earth are you here?”

“Umm, it’s a company Christmas party?” he answered with a question, feigning ignorance.

“I meant here. And you know that. If you really would've liked my company, you probably wouldn't have dumped me to fuck around” you snapped at him and straightened your back, preparing to leave him. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

You turned on your heels and headed towards the main building. Now that you’ve stepped away from the heater the cold winter air crawled against your skin once more, tears prickling your eyes. You were stupid for coming here.

You picked up your pace before you felt a warm hand grip your wrist. You felt tired. You felt like you had no energy to do this right now.

“Please, love. Just give me a chance.”

“A chance for what, Jamie? To break my heart again?” you asked in a choked voice from holding the tears at bay. He let go of you and ran his hands through his hair. You hated how you knew he always did that when he was nervous. All this knowledge of him, all that love for him. What were you supposed to do with them now?

“What can I do to make it right? I’ll do anything.”

“Stop making a fool out of me. What do you want? A good nostalgia lay? A charity one, because it’s Christmas?” You were so angry at him. If all these were true, why did he just dump you? Say all those things he said. But at the same time, you wanted this to be true. But you weren’t ready for another heartbreak.

“Piss off, I’ve cried enough because of you already.” You turned your back on him again and stormed off. You saw your friend's silhouette at the door, and you felt relieved.

“I’m so sorry babes, I’ll call a cab, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s fine. I won’t give him the satisfaction of leaving” you let out a shaky breath and hugged your friend.

“What did he want anyway?”

“He said” you started but your voice choked up. “He said he was sorry. That he wanted to make it right.”

“You’re kidding. What did you say?”

“I told him to piss off, as you can see” you answered and let out a dry laugh.

“I can see that, but why?” she asked, and you snapped your gaze at her.

“What do you mean why? Don’t you remember he broke up with me to chase models instead?”

“But maybe he does want to make it right… and you love-“ she said but you broke her off.

“I don’t. Please can we just drop this? Let’s have dinner, what do you think?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Dinner was served by elegant waiters, all different kinds of soups, meats, salads, whatever you could’ve wished for. And fortunately, they didn’t hesitate to bring you drinks as well.

“No way!” you laughed at another guy who was sitting at your table. He was your friend’s coworker, or something like that. You actually had a really great time since the dinner started. These people were nice and funny, and took your mind off of Jamie for a bit. That was all you could’ve asked for.

“It’s nice to meet finally meet you guys in person, I’ve heard so much about you I feel like I’ve known you for ages!”

“Only good I hope!” another girl, Jenna chimed in and chuckled while your friend just rolled her eyes to hide her awkwardness. Mixing friend groups was always a stressful experience for her. Suddenly Jenna whispered something to the person who was sitting next to her – you remembered her name being Ellie.

“Yeah, for sure” Ellie said, covering her mouth while laughing.

“C’mon girls, didn’t they tell you it’s rude to whisper when you have company? Spill it!” your friend whined as she took another sip from her drink. Jenna rolled her eyes playfully before she leaned closer to the two of you.

“We were just talking about how shaggable some of our footballers are” she giggled, and you choked on your drink, what earned you a few weird looks.

“I’m sorry, I just tried to laugh and swallow at the same time” you replied quickly. During your exchange the wait staff started to clear your tables as the dinner was about to end, leaving place for the music, dancing, and drinking.

“Or maybe you fancy the gaffer? No shame in that he’s pretty fit himself” Ellie continued before Jenna cut her off.

“You bet he is. And he’s such a gentleman, I’ve ran into him at the cafeteria once. Maybe even too much of a gentleman.” She gave a knowing look before she chuckled. You knew this was going to be bad.

“C’mon girls, stop it! Anybody can hear you!” your friend tried to stop the situation from getting worse, but it was of no use.

“So, new girl, what do you say? Do you have a favourite guy on the team?” Jenna rested her head in her hands as she was looking at you, batting her eyelashes. She didn’t mean no harm; she had no way of knowing that you were in fact an ex-girlfriend of one of them.

“You know what, I’m kind of a Roy Kent girl myself” you said, and your friend snorted next to you, almost spitting her drink. You flashed a huge smile at her before clinking your glass against hers. The rest of the girls made approving noises before they got interrupted.

“That kinda hurts” his voice pierced your ears, and your heart went into overdrive. Of course. You turned towards him, and you swore your eyes shot daggers at him. He had one of his hands held out towards you, inviting you to take it. “Spare me a dance?”

You already drank enough to consider his offer. You felt everyone’s eyes on you and for a second you didn’t care.

“Sure” you replied in a low voice as you stood up. You heard a gasp from behind you, but you weren’t sure who it came from. You took Jamie’s hand as he led you towards the dancefloor. You heard your friend say “I told you anyone could hear it!” in the background and you smiled.

After you reached the centre of the dancefloor, he spun you around and put one of his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t look him in the eye, but scanned the room for anything else to focus on. The band was playing a slow song and couples started to flock to the floor next to you. You saw Ted asking Rebecca for a dance and even your friend stood up and made her way to the floor with someone. You felt Jamie trying to be sneaky and pulling you closer into him with every sway, but you didn’t say anything.

“Do you remember when you taught me how to dance?” he asked, and you heard the smile in his voice. You did remember.

“Of course” you said, barely audible.

“We moved the couch to make space. And even then, I hit my foot into it.” He spun you around to the rhythm of the music, then pulled you closer than before. And you let him, as you rested your head next to his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment as you closed your eyes. Like you were in your living room again, like he didn’t break your heart.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” he asked abruptly.

“It’s not-“ you hesitated. “It’s not that I can’t forgive you.” You knew you could forgive him in a second, because you loved him. You loved him so much, not a day went by without you missing him.

“What is it then?”

“I just don’t want to be hurt again. I know you just take whatever you want and when you’re bored you just toss it aside.” You fought your tears as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m not that person anymore, love” he said and stopped the two of you, lifting your chin up so your gaze met his. “I promise.”

“Why should I believe you? You promised before you’d never leave me and then you tossed me aside. Made me feel worthless.”

“Fuck” he exhaled, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Can we talk somewhere else? Can’t hear my own thoughts.” You didn’t reply just nodded before he took your hands and led you outside to the same spot you’ve talked earlier. Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes as you followed him, looking down at your joint hands. He stood under the heater before he turned to you and placed both his hands on the side of your face.

“Look. I was a major prick, I know that.” He searched your face as he spoke. “But I promise, I’ve changed. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, I was an asshole. I know that now” he paused.

“But I-“ he started then he stopped, his eyes frantically scanning your face.

Don’t say it.

“I just-“

Don’t say it.

“Fuck, I-“

Just say it!

“I love you.” You let out a relieved sigh as you closed your eyes. He pulled you closer as he planted a kiss on your lips, shy and chaste. Your heart was stammering against your ribcage, and you felt like it was your first kiss ever.

“I love you too” you whispered as warm tears rolled down your cheeks, contrasting the cold air. He kissed you again, this time braver, and he poured his heart and soul into it as he pulled you in with his hand on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your heart felt like a thousand suns exploded inside it.

“Please let me make it right.”

“Just make sure you won’t make a fool out of me again for saying yes to this, okay?”

“I promise” he said before he kissed you again. “But I have another question.”

“Yes?” you asked and raised your eyebrow.

“Are you really a Roy Kent girl?” You laughed at how real the concern was on his face as he looked at you with his puppy eyes.

“No, actually I’m a huge Jamie Tartt girl, have you heard of him?” you grinned as you caressed his face.

“Huh, sounds like he’s a lucky fella” he smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. Maybe it wasn’t so bad your friend invited you after all.