#which meant DAYS of aggressively masking

[bri-the-bi]

Can Dorian stop bullshitting us into trying to get us on their app like if I wanted unrelated rants while trying to talk about valid concerns I would willingly call my dad

tw// traumadumping in tags

[msfantasy-comics]

The Opposites Attract

Dick Grayson x Reader

Summary: A Head Cannon on which Dick Grayson and Y/n oppose each other yet remain wholly compatible.

Warning: Y/n is depicted as angsty and a little feral. 

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Opposites attract they say.

Yet Dick and Y/n are such polar opposites surely their difference outweigh each other.

Despite it all, the two love birds gravitate each other due to their completing differences.

Extrovert vs. Introvert

Dick is insanely outgoing and is recharged by socialising. His perfect setting is in a crowded rowdy rooms where the conversation moves like wildfire. Wild and Abrupt.

Y/n on the other hand, prefers a quite space with one-on-one conversations.

In typical extraverted fashion. Dick adopts the introverted Y/n and encourages her to step outside her comfort zone and talk to others.

But it’s just not in her nature.

How the hell are you meant to jump into a conversation?

How are you meant to have a say on a topic when three other people are talking over each other to get their 2 cents in?

You gave up almost immediately and retreated back to your safe corner always from the shoulder bashing and elbow jabbing walk way.

Dick was initially disappointed to see you give up so quickly until he noticed that you were carrying on your socialising in your own way.

You sat silently as strangers poured their heart out to you.

Silently nodding and humming in agreement every now and then before the person sighed, thanked you for listening and walked off.

Dick really admires that about you.

Dick: “Need some company.”

Y/n: “Only if you bring me the good vibes.”

Optimist vs. Pessimist

Dick is a buzzing bundle of bountiful energy.

Dick is never short on absurdly positive outcomes despite all odds indicating otherwise.

Why live in a delusional state? You know the realities of life.

And the reality is that life can be shit and it doesn’t turn out well for everyone no matter how much they try or desperately scramble to achieve their hopes.

Hope is pointless.

There is just something obnoxiously wonderful about Dick.

How is it that your boy wonder lights a flame in you that fills you with certainty that all will be right as long as he is here?

You greatly admire how infectious Dicks positivity can be.

Y/n: “Why keep sending them to Arkham only to escape and ruin lives? Might as well just put an end to their burdensome presence.”

Dick: “Oh honey nooooo. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Snuffing out the life of a person doesn’t solve the root of the issue.”

Y/n: “Who cares! Nothing matters in the end anyway, we will all die and become obsolete. Only to let the next generation bitch and moan about the inequality of it all.”

Dick: “Ah, my precious little sunshine can be such a downer, yes you can.”

*Condescendingly pinches cheeks*

Secretive vs. Open

Dick just wants the best of both worlds.

To be the figure head for heroism, hope, peace and safety, without an of the consequences of having your image publicly known.

Dick would never want to endanger the lives of those around him due to his passions in crime fighting.

Therefore, he must maintain the secrecy of the bat and the mask.

You, however, don’t understand how or why your boy wonder hides his true identity.

It’s not like Dick Grayson is an every day normal civilian.

He’s a fricken heir to Gotham wealthiest philanthropist.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any privacy on either alter egos.

But the Bats secret is not your own to share.

So instead you live freely by your own rules.

You admit your identities and aren’t afraid to show the public your true self.

You honestly couldn’t care less about public perception.

Dick, admires your unapologetic lifestyle.

Aggressive Random: “You shouldn’t -“

Y/n: “Piss Off- no one asked you.”

Dick: “Ah sweetie… maybe you should listen to what they have to say.”

Y/n: “I couldn’t give a rats!”

[meanbossart]

What is it about Astarion that DU Drow fell for? Which traits/habits/quirks/whatever were the ones that he first noticed/piqued his interest?

Oh boy, I mean, at first DU Drow didn't care for Astarion at all. He was extremely on edge around all of these people and Astarion's rather invasive strategy only put him off further - his insight checks may be awful, but he can still tell when someone is trying to suck up to him a little too hard. DU drow thought he was attractive, of course (see.: the narrator's comment about the quote-on-quote pretty corpse) but otherwise didn't think very much of, or very highly of him.

Once he got his confidence back, and after Astarion caught onto the fact that he needed to play hard to get to string him along, there would have been a little while where DU drow only saw him in the context of a trophy or conquest - but admittedly, he also thought Astarion was funny, and he thought he was smart - even someone as dense as him could see that the guy had read him perfectly, and proceeded to adapt as necessary to get what he wanted out of him - and DU drow fell right into it, willingly so. There would have been some mutual respect there between them from understanding each other's games.

Their ritual of letting Astarion bite him definitely planted a little seed of something too. I've talked about it plenty of times so I won't dwell on it, but DU drow enjoys the intimacy implied in allowing someone to hurt him. This was far from an emotional turning point in the relationship, but it did prompt him to start seeing Astarion differently (not better or worse - just differently.)

(I'm a little drunk and went on and on, enjoy LOL)

Then, after one or two intimate encounters, the Urge would have started taking too much of a toll - violent lust turned into lustful violence, and hence DU drow didn't want to have sex anymore out of a fear of losing control during the act; yet, he had learned to trust Astarion by then and would seek out his comfort and companionship all the same. Faced with the situation where sex is no longer an option, I imagine Astarion would have been caught off guard and let the mask slip more often than usual. Pair that with the fact that DU Drow is a surprisingly affectionate (in private) but highly withdrawn person, left him in the role of leading their exchanges. Astarion, I think, would have felt the need to talk; if for no other reason but to fill the air whenever they were alone together. Eventually DU Drow would have started talking back.

These were long nights of just looking up at the sky and going through things that happened that day, what led them here, what the companions are doing, talking shit about whats-his-or-her-name, often just straight up gossip. Astarion eventually realized he could say whatever he damn pleased in front of DU Drow and nothing seemed to phase him, and vice-versa. DU drow enjoyed his bluntness, his earnest impulsivity that matched his own, he laughed at his jokes (as well as some things that weren't meant as jokes) he enjoyed his teasing and his reactions when he said something putrid in return, he liked the way he smelled when he was clean and he liked his stink when he was filthy, he watched him fidget with his own clothes and hair until Astarion gave him a weird look and aggressively asked what he was staring at. He enjoyed when Astarion got angry at something he said, because it felt very genuine - and he didn't use to think of him as a very genuine person.

Astarion was the first to notice something was wrong with him - so DU drow felt comfortable talking about it openly. On the other hand, DU drow never pressed Astarion about his past unprompted - instead just letting him talk about it if he so wished and without trying to milk it for more details when he did choose to do so. Because they spoke a similar language of violence and operated under the same hedonist-based beliefs, it was easy to talk to each other even when there was friction between them - similarly, they were both always willing to move past and quickly "forget" when someone said something truly hurtful.

I don't know if there was a key moment where he realized this had turned into love; that was probably a word DU Drow dropped quite unabashedly sometime after they got to Baldur's Gate, and before they faced-off with Cazador (to no reciprocation or acknowledgment then, not that he minded). But sometime during act 3, DU drow simply assumed that after this was all over they would still stick together.

[sirenixspook]

Revenge & Kapricorn’s Karma⏳

Saturn/Capricorn placements in a chart can show where the fruits from the labor will be yielded often later in life. Saturn/Cap rules the domains of time, consistency, patience, discipline, karma, and the grown up perspective. Saturn is the “father” of the zodiac, it’s lessons resemble “tough love” given from a father.

Those ruled by Capricorn or Saturn dominant are the ones who woodpick away behind the scenes and return back one day with an empire built, often formed from a long trail of patience from hard-learned lessons.

As a Scorpio I hold importance to Saturn as it is the area in your chart where shit starts to “click” and enemies who have done you wrong in the past receive the wrath of your karma. This is preceded by years of difficulty and trial-and-error, creating ease with obstacles and abundance (!!!) after the lessons of Saturn start to show itself. The house which Capricorn rules also applies to where abundance will be accumulated later on.

Saturn 1H- Difficulties with who you are, obstacles with mental strength, may be self conscious over appearance, could be seen as too “harsh” by others. They may too strictly abide to moral conduct or show aggression. A disciplined approach for life’s ups and downs and strong willpower regards to self will surface over time, these people may have a major physical glow up and learn to embody a CEO presence in any room. Also predominant knees and bony appearance, they may develop an athletic build later on.

Saturn 2H- Difficulties with managing money, blockages regarding spending and internal values. Pickiness with food intake, could struggle with having too little/never having enough. This is a great house for saturn to be in for monetary gain, the trials this placement endures with their material endeavors teaches them how to discipline their indulgence. They acquire a solid understanding of money and build up strong personal values/self esteem over time. That credit score washes away their tears.

Saturn 3H- Difficulties with acquiring and learning new skills, masks the value of their thoughts as they may have dealt with others making them feel inferior or stupid. Problems with school or driving possibly, may have a communication style that is perceived as annoying. Saturn teaches them to become a teacher and lead with their expression. These people learn integrity from constant debates with their heart and mind and have a mature, sophisticated view on methodology.

Saturn 4th- Difficulties growing up and in the home/family, this placement was often emotionally neglected in childhood due to their caretakers not understanding their needs, or expected to hold everyone up. They could feel like the unappreciated father of the household. As they master patience with their family members they can be a generational curse breaker and put a strong familial support system in place. This placement has been aware of bullshit from an early age and their mature, structured foundation gets them through emotional ups and downs with ease.

Saturn 5H- Difficulties with dating life and having fun. Could feel like a “stifled sun,” pursuits of pleasure end up feeling like a chore. They may feel indifferent in their sex life and resist time meant for enjoyment, a “party pooper.” Over time they take on a disciplined approach to romance, attracting established suitors. They can become seriously talented and may succeed in creative business, and their dedication to one hobby helps them become a leader in the creative/entertainment realms. They end up having well disciplined egos and a respected reputation.

Saturn 6H- this placement could manifest as being overly disciplined with work routines; could be seen as bossy, relying on heavy structure to get through a day of work. They could be undervalued by their employer yet still choose to sell the underdog and work diligently. Over time they take on the importance of wellbeing after a string of health problems, possibly as knee or joint pain. Their work ethic ends up rewarding them with high successes in their field.

Saturn 7H- Difficulties balancing relationship with others vs oneself, these people don’t have smooth relationships or experience repetitive cycles appearing from partner to partner. They learn the importance of the relationship with the self, and their good relationships come later in life. Often times this placement attracts the most meaningful relationships when they don’t focus on them. When they do find that person, they will commit to them for a lifetime.

Saturn 8H- Difficulties with understanding the deeper facets of one’s nature. This placement struggles with intimacy, the rigidity of Saturn tends to block attempts at a deeper bond with others. They may appear sexually vibrant on the outside but their stubbornness will show when they try to get intimate. Over time they learn how to use their seriousness for their advantage in terms of acquiring assets and getting to the bottom of an investigative matter. As they learn to release control with the vulnerable and get familiar with what’s waiting in the unknown, they transform into quite deeply tender souls.

Saturn 9H- Difficulties with changing world viewpoint/philosophy, could have rigid beliefs and have a hard time adapting other views. Often times they are distant from their father and siblings due to conflicting beliefs, and may find themselves at odds with others. The rules of Saturn conflicts with this Jupiter ruled house’s need to expand and open the mind. They learn to nurture the core of their beliefs and master their truth and vision. Their journey for truth meets success in higher districts- in higher education, in gov/law careers, politics etc.

Saturn 10H- Difficulties with long term vision, they are used to believing they don’t have what it takes to meet what is expected of them, may resent authority or carry disdain from strict figures in their life. This placement feels like walking on a trip line and having an enormous amount of pressure on you from everyone watching. Saturn teaches this person to reach the destination point step by step, they learn that taking false shortcuts can bring them crumbling down. They may experience the public eye witnessing their greatest fall and greatest comeback.

Saturn 11H- Difficulties with finding acceptance amongst friends and community, feeling like the “black sheep” (Speaking personally, this placement may make you a stand out as a lone wolf). Could feel like they can’t fit in and get caught in bad friendships, aversion to technological advancements and may feel inferior to their peers. They learn that acceptance comes from within and develop meaningful friendships later in life. As time goes on they let go of trying to fit in and master their uniqueness/individuality, which can make them shine as an influencer or community leader.

Saturn 12H- Difficulties with accepting spirituality and repeating karma. It may be hazy for this placement when it comes to adapting discipline, they may take on substance abuse or be drawn to immoral/illegal behaviors. Saturn places temptations for material incitement in this person’s life and isolates them until they learn how to let go of desire. Inner bliss is a road of difficulty for this placement, they learn to see outside of themselves and become disciplined in charity. They may end up attracting heaps of good karma after a lifetime of learning the importance of inner retreat and acts of good faith.

******

I am not a professional astrologer, this is based on my own understanding. Please correct me on any inaccuracy

-Ari🔱

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.2)

What does Jason do after stealing a kid from Gotham's slums? Feed and give the little brat a home, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader

To be completely honest, when Jason reached his apartment, he was panicking a little

The drive had been enough to clear his mind and he realized how impulsive he'd been

He is a damn vigilante, one with a hell of a reputation, and who's always messing with the baddest assholes of this city

Fuck, he's got guns and explosives in his house

But even with all the panic and rationality, Jason wasn't going to abandon you somewhere else

Orphanages were great places for villains to hit, the foster system might as well have been created by the joker, and no way in hell was he going to drop you at Bruce's

Anything but that

So he sucked it up and focused on your small voice full of wonder as you two drove through the city

"I didn't know there was so many tall buildings in Gotham!"

"That church is huge!"

"Holy shit is that a theater?! I only saw them in movies!"

At a certain point he was close to biting his fists in pure cuteness aggression

He knew exactly what you were feeling, could even picture your eyes glittering full of wonder behind the helmet

It didn't help his heart that your helmet also had comms, which were connected to his, so every single one of your little comments meant for yourself only were accidentally shared

Your Gotham accent was so thick too, born and raised in an area were the elite never tried to "cleanse"

Fuking adorable

Oh, also, he'd need to teach you not to follow strangers even if they were famous vigilantes

Because he realized how fucking dangerous it was that you just up and agreed to be taken by a random masked man

Sure, he knew he also did the same with Bruce, but hey, look at where that got him

When Jason finally brought you up to his apartment, still carrying you, he knew he'd have to immediately go out to buy some things

His fridge wasn't stocked with what kids need

Like... apple juice and cereal

Or any kind of vegetables

And, he definitely needed some kid safety stuff, even if he knew you wouldn't try opening the dangerous cabinets

... probably

Opening his door, he took you to the bathroom

Look, as cute as you were, you were also as filthy as a drenched sewer rat

He told you as much when he set you down

Your glare was worth the slap on the arm (it didn't even hurt)

"Can I assume you know how to take a shower?"

"I'm nine, not three, Red Hood."

"Not my fault you look like you're five."

He chuckled as you huffed and puffed

"Jason Todd."

"What?"

"My name is Jason Todd. Can't have you calling me Red Hood if you're gonna live with me, right?"

You gaped, big eyes going wide

He told you his name! And showed you his face! Why did this man trust you so much?

It... it made you real warm inside

You were quiet for a moment before quietly telling you your name, shyly, like you hadn't done that in a long time

"Hm, I think I prefer 'squirt', tho."

Okay, warm moment over, the guy is insufferable

Hissing and pushing him out of the bathroom with all of your strength, you hesitantly took your first real shower since... since you don't even know when

The water was black

You realized your skin could feel soft instead of oily

And your nails finally didn't look like you dug through dirt

Meanwhile, Jason was running around the apartment like a crazed man

Shoving his guns inside high drawers you wouldn't be able to reach

Trashing the cigs he had bought out of curiosity

And making sure any items for... his intimate partners were completely hidden away

He'd found those in Bruce's room one time as a kid and, needless to say, Jason still felt traumatized to this day

After making his apartment slightly less deadly and ordering food, Jason knocked on the door to let you know he'd left a change of clothes for you in front of the bathroom

Damian's clothes the brat left behind once he had stayed over when he was rebelling

they'd be a little too big for you but nothing like what his would look like

Once you came out, looking fresh and clean, Jason immediately carried you to the couch

Biting his tongue because the demon brat's clothes were actually so big on you he could cry

He ignored your complaints again, he knew your little feet were all scratched and they must have hurt like a bitch

Once you finally settled and didn't try to scratch his eyeballs out, Jason started to patch you up

Such careful, gentle touches for rough hands like his

He handled your injuries like you were made of glass

And despite your childish pride... you kind of loved it

It made you feel all tingly and cozy inside, like you were precious

Like you were deserving of kindness

As you started fidgeting with all the bubbling emotions inside of you, Jason tried to calm you down by talking

He learned your mother died from a drive-by shooting and your father was an alcoholic with a taste for physical abuse

"It only got bad bad a year or so ago, I think he blamed me for us being poor."

"And you know that's bull, right?"

You shrugged as he finished treating your injuries and started to dry your damp hair, a little awkwardly but attentive

"He left a month ago–or died, I don't know–so it doesn't matter either way."

Well, that was a healthy mindset for a child!

He had to breathe through his mouth to not get up and go put three little bullets in your piece of shit father's head

or his body, if the bastard was already dead

Jason definitely had a lot of work to do, but for now, ding-dong, he was going to focus on feeding you

And, no, he was never going to delete the photo he took of your face when he opened the huge takeout orders

Nor would he forget the way you cried silently as you ate

That was your first real meal in months

Your first real meal, washed and clothed, in a safe apartment that didn't smell of roaches nor booze, with an adult who looked at you fondly

Jason promised, to himself and God, that he'd make sure you'd never cry over something like food ever again

When you giggled at a joke he made and didn't flinch when he gently wiped a bit of sauce from your cheek, he knew he had made the correct decision

He'd keep you safe

To be continued...

[issdisgrace]

I hope you really meant it when you said it's okay for me to request more.

These are just some ideas, you don't have to write any of them. God they're so lame, bruh your league is too good.

For now I'm gonna take advantage of your random slasher sfw/nsfw hcs hehe.

1) Michael Myers (michael freqently jerks off in public + michael has a thing for teeth):

- What about Michael x male reader where reader tries to find Michael outside bc reader is horny and Michael was gone for too long, He finds him, notices his heavy breathing and a boner. - Reader takes his knife away and makes him kneel to suck him off, he takes his mask off and holding it in his hand while he puts Michael's knife into his mouth to hold it (he doesn't want to alarm Michael by holding the knife in his hand not to pose as a threat).

- Reader then notices Michael started moaning (Michael started jerking off), realizing it has something to do with him holding his knife in his teeth looking like an aggressive wolf.

- He then starts to play with the knife, biting it, licking it, showing his teeth and licking them as well.

- Reader starts to get close so he throws Michael's knife away, takes his hand and bites his fingers, causing a domino effect. Michael comes, continues to suck reader off more aggressively making reader come into his mouth.

- When Michael swallows he looks at reader and he's grinning like a devil, which makes Michael weak.

2) Vicent Sinclair (has fisted himself before):

- Basically Vincent wants reader to fist fuck him while licking, bitting and kissing his butt cheeks. He lets him do that as a sign of trust so they move frurther into the relationship.

3) Patrick Bateman (patrick likes to roleplay as a doting house wife):

- Reader comes home from work to find Patrick in an arpon, cozy and cute clothing, being all sweet and gentle.

- They are all lovely dovely, and as a doting housewife he tells reader that he needs to take care of himself so he makes him eat delicious dinner, have a bathand then Patrick and reader fuck, but it's more like patrick riding reader and just doing all the work to help reader relax.

4) Bo Sinclair (bo likes wearing panties):

- Reader and Bo having make out session (reader laying on the bed and Bo sitting on him), Bo then gets off of him to take his cloths off and reader notices his panties and teases him about it and basically they fuck while Bo still has the panties on (just put aside) and when they're done Bo teases reader for liking him in panties.

I'm gonna shower you in love if you write even just one of these. Or even when not. I love you man.

ALLEYWAY BLOWJOB

WARNINGS: Blowjob/face fucking, semi public, Michael got a thing for teeth, knifeplay??

A/N: @charliedakotariley I hope you enjoy this. I've written the other 3 requests, so be on the lookout for those in the near future.

God, why can’t Michael be around when I need him? He’s probably avoiding me because I found out about his thing for teeth. To be fair, it’s not my fault I woke up with his fingers running across my teeth and his dick in his hand. Anyway, right now I just need to let off a little steam after dealing with morons all day.

Sighing, I go to the back door, open it and step outside, closing it behind me.

“Michael, you around. I need your help with a little something.” 

I called out. I then hear something rattle then a cat hiss. Call for the devil and he shall appear I think as I step off my back porch. I cross the backyard to the gate leading into the alley. Unlocking it, I open it, stepping into the alley. There in the shadows a few feet in front of the gate is Michael knife in hand. Must’ve just gotten back from slaughtering some people. I take slow steps towards him until I’m directly in front of him, towering over him. I force him to walk backwards until his back hits the neighboring fence. Blocking him against the fence, I lean down and whisper into his ear.

“I need to let off some steam, so how about you put that mouth to good use?”

 Michael grunts. I’ll just take that as a yes. Reaching up, I grab the mask and pull it off of his head, his brown locks falling into place. Chucking the mask on top of the nearby trash can. I then take the knife from his hand. Quickly swapping our position, I lean against the fence with my free hand. I push Michael down by his shoulder. He gets the memo and kneels before me. Now face to face with my hard on he looks from it back up to me. 

“Suck.”

He nods and reaches up. His hands making quick work of my belt. He then unzips my pants and tugs them down with my boxers. My cock springs out and hits him in the face. I let out a laugh and Michael looks up at me with a glare.

“Don’t look at me like that. Get to sucking or you won’t be getting anything from me anytime soon.”

Michael looks back down at my cock for a moment before wrapping his lips around the head of it. Reaching up, I scratch my face as I sigh in content as he starts to work my cock. His mouth felt so good on my cock.

Looking down at him, I realize I’m still holding his knife. Lifting the knife up I notice how shiny it is. I can see my reflection in it. That sparks an idea. Smiling, I check out my teeth in the reflection of the knife for a minute. Hey if Micheal likes my teeth might as well indulge him. I laugh to myself as I continue to check out my teeth for a couple more minutes. I suddenly feel Michael groan around my cock. Looking down, I notice him jerking himself off.

Laughing, I fix my grip on the knife before stabbing into the fence beside me. Letting go of the knife, I reach down and grab the sides of his head. Forcing eye contact with him. I then shove him all the way down onto my cock. I feel him gag around me, which draws a moan out of me. I start brutally fucking myself in and it of his mouth. 

God his mouth felt so good around me. If I could fuck his mouth all day, I would. As I fuck into his mouth, I feel him groan more and more around my cock. Each vibration bringing me slowly towards the edge. I hum to myself, the groans getting louder and more frequent. He must be closing in on his orgasm. But I’m not gonna let him finish before me. Tightening my grip on his head, I animalistically fuck his mouth. It doesn’t take long for the knot in my stomach to tighten even more. Then he lets out one last long loud groan, causing me to go over the edge, cumming down his throat. Coming down from my high, I lean my head against the fence. God that felt amazing. As I bask in my bliss, I feel Michael pull himself off my cock slowly with a pop. Looking down at him, I notice him wiping his hand on the pants of his jumpsuit before he puts himself away. He looks up at me the look in his eye that tells me he wants more. 

“If you tuck me back in and we’ll continue this inside.”

Michael nods as he reaches down and grabs pants from where they pool at my knees and pulls my boxers and pants back up. He then zips my pants back up before buckling my belt. I pat his head and give him a little praise before helping him up. His knees cracking in the process. Hmmm, I’ll have to see if I can get him those knee compression sleeves.

[yanderederee]

Im Rooting for You..!

April24th, 2004

a/n: no trigger warnings!! Mostly fluffy!! <333 this was my first attempt at Baji removing his nerd disguise, but it got buried and I forgot ab it!

Before… › here! › After!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“Say.. Baji,” you said, almost in a whisper.

You’ve been tutoring Baji for about three months now. He was doing well, well enough that he could get by without your paid support. Yet…

Even knowing this, you wanted to stay by his side, and know more about him.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Baji. He was gentle, considerate, dutiful, passionate — well, that aside…

You just weren’t ready to part ways. Not yet, at least.

There was just one thing bothering you.

These three months, you felt as though there was a huge part of Baji you still hadn’t met yet. Like he was only showing you a mask of a person.

You wanted to see who Baji Keisuke really was. Behind the thick rim glasses, behind the suppressed persona he claimed to be.

“Why… don’t you drop the act, around me..?” You asked, forced and meek.

You tried to maintain an aura of composure. Baji could sense that.

He picked up on your little mannerisms so easily now. The glasses actually ended up being a blessing, he was soon to realize. You could never tell when he stared at you, or read him quite right.

They kept you curious. He liked that growing curiosity of yours, and wasn’t sure if he was ready to give in so easily.

“What act?” He feigned jokingly, maintaining his composure without neglecting his handwriting over the latest study packet.

You gave your best glare, which only came off as a pout, crossing your arms passive aggressively. “Fine.” You sighed sarcastically, heaving yourself from your seat.

He realized quickly you were packing up for the day. “If you’re going to keep pretending around me, then keep it that way. I’m leaving. ”

What did you mean by that? What the hell made you so mad all of a sudden?

“Leave? I still don’t understand h—“ he tried to weave his way back into your usual groove, but you looked back at him with a somewhat… hurt expression, stopping all brain function he had.

The hell were you looking at him like that for?

“Baji.. I’ve done by duty as a tutor. If…. If that’s all I will be to you, then I …” you said shakily, having to pause a moment to maintain your poise composure.

“If you’re worried about how I’ll react to knowing the real you, please, stop. I want to be your friend. A real friend to you. I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t notice the way you act differently around me.”

Your face was getting warmer and warmer, the more embarrassing things you were saying.

You weren’t planning to spill your heart out, this type of honesty was beyond your comfort, so why couldn’t you stop?

“Whoever you turn out to be, I would proudly stand beside you. S-so,”

“Wait,” Baji stopped you, voice stern and face completely hidden from view.

Baji knew why he’d kept who he really was from you for so long. He wasn’t a coward, he wasn’t hiding behind a mask because he thought you were shallow enough to shun him.

He was hiding because as soon as you got wrapped up in Toman, your life could be at risk.

Having no way to fight or protect yourself, being associated with Toman would only make you a walking target. Being involved with a gang was unpredictable. Some real sick fucks roamed these streets.

There’s no telling what one miscalculation would result in your inevitable pain.

Emma, Mikey’s own sister, had been held at knifepoint more than once. Attacks against her have been made more than Baji even knew. But no matter what, Mikey was always there to protect her and ensure her safety.

Could Baji say the same? He wasn’t sure if that was a promise he could keep. Baji is protective by nature, but throwing you into that life without giving you fair warning would be cowardly.

It was easier to end what wasn’t meant to continue.

“It doesn’t matter if you accept me or not.” He felt himself fall into poker face, acting harshly neutral. “I won’t let you throw yourself in my life just cause it seems fun. Our crowds don’t walk the same streets, y/n.” He hissed, hardened eyes hiding behind the thick rims.

Baji has never used this tone with you before.

You were bound to be scared of him now, (right?).

“I respect how smart you are, but you’re looking to get yourself killed. I won’t be apart of it.” He said finally, his things gathered and stature towering over you when he walked past you and out the door.

You didn’t even get a word in before he was slamming the door behind him.

It hurt to swallow, but he kept telling himself that he was doing the right thing, keeping you at arms length.

He wasn’t smart. He didn’t stop Kazutora before he made that irreversible mistake— to shoulder so much guilt. Baji hasn’t noticed that the bike shop Kazutora led him to was Shin’s shop. If he was just a little smarter and noticed that obvious thing, he could have saved Shin—- saved Kazutora!

… This is how he saves you, right?

This was fine, this was the intended outcome. Baji could self study from now on.

To hide this gnawing guilt, he buried it deep, deep, deep down.

Toman has a fight tonight after all.

The perfect stress relief.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Chifuyu had always wanted to be a wingman, and after he realized Baji’s crush on you, he was eager to spring into action. You were innocent and cute, opinionated yet kind. Quick witted and perceptive. Chifuyu knew you were struggling to keep your patience with Baji.

That’s why, when Baji made his dramatic exit, Chifuyu’s snooping-self quickly snuck in to evaluate the damage. And just as he’d guessed, you were left flabbergasted and flooded with frustrated tears.

“P-please wait! Before you judge him too harshly, let me speak!” He stammered. He’d never spoke more than a few pleasantries to you before now, yet there he was, desperately trying to make a case in Baji’s defense.

It took a little explaining, but without giving too much of the situation away, Chifuyu had managed to get you to agree to follow him. He promised on his life that he was trust worthy, and honestly, you believed him.

So that’s how you found yourself in audience of a bunch of thugs gathered for mischief just ahead of you. A long row of motorbikes rangling the boys into formation.

You weren’t sure where to spot Baji, his dead give away glasses being no where in sight. Still, Chifuyu promised that if you kept your eye out for his own blonde bowl cut, you’d spot Baji not far behind.

Before you could get a proper gander, you noticed two thugs from each opposing side came to the middle of the parking lot to speak, before ultimately calling for war.

You had guessed Baji was associated with some kind of shady pass time, as he did have a very intimidating presence, and he often boasting about his excellent skill of martial arts. To think he would put it to use like this was… <3

As you stood watching the scene unfold, you took a moment to consider if your lack of shock at the situation playing out should concern you or not. Were you more desensitized, or impressed….

You were taken out of that train of thought when a deafening roar almost shook the ground you stood. A scream that loud could only be made by a rage filled monster. And rage filled it was, Baji Keisuke’s patience had finally ran out, unable to swallow back that guilt he pushed so far deep. All the vulnerable sides of him he accidentally let you see—- revealed in those rare moment of gentle hand touches and kindness you gave him unconditionally.

He knew Your gentle hands would become soiled before long. His bruised knuckles would start to stain you.

Forgetting about you was for your best interest.

His hair was uncontainable, hair-tie snapping before the fight had even begun. His eyes were piercing and sharp, ferocious and merciless to anyone who met his gaze.

He stood out like a wild beast amongst helpless prey.

Baji wielded a wicked grin that took up most of his face, screaming out insult after curse as his fists broke skin and bone alike. He was ferocious. Unstoppable and feral.

It was normal to run in fear of such a creature, yet you….<33

“Hey hey hey! What’ve we got here?” Sing-songed a delinquent who did not share the same black and gold uniform your classmates had on.

No one noticed this interaction at first, but your shrill shriek seemed to alert others tenfold. It was an unspoken rule that if there’s a girl’s scream, you intervene.

“I don’t recognize that school uniform, what’re you spyin around us for huh? Want in on the action?” The delinquent held you in place between your collar and the wall behind you, his grip harsh enough to rip some of the cloth.

Any do-gooder would easily have stepped in to put the sicko in his place, for pulling an uninvolved girl into a beef like this one, but no one dared move.

Because there was a sick, cold, heavy air that swept the parking lot. A nauseous feeling that made any man back down. Everyone felt it. And Toman knew damn well to get the Hell out of Baji Keisuke’s way.

Chifuyu let out a yelp when he noticed he had pretty much made you a hostage, putting you directly in harms way. But you wanted to see who the real Baji Keisuke was so badly, and Chifuyu didn’t mean for it to turn out like this— and no amount of reason would spare Chifuyu from the beating he was sure to receive once Baji learned the truth of how you ended up here in the first place.

But with having no further context, Baji’s intense rage was fueled with worry for your safety. ‘Why the hell is she here? Did she follow me or something?’

Baji spat, dead focus not leaving your squirming form. The way you squirmed in the offenders grasp seriously made him feel like puking. The way your eyes desperately darted around to look for him broke his heart. So helpless, so scared… Any bit of restraint he had left suddenly no longer existed.

“Baldys got a death wish, eeeehhhhh?!” Baji graveled his most intimidating roar as the distance became shorter and shorter, reaching your side at sound-breaking speed.

Before the bold delinquent who had a hold on you could react, he was already being slung backwards. Gravity corrected you quickly, and you hissed when your knees met the ground below. Baji’s attention was solely focused on killing this stupid sack of shit.

Chifuyu came following after, helping you to your feet as you stare in awe. “C-come on, let’s get you somewhere safe-“ he tried guiding you toward an escape route, but you refused.

You remained rooted in place while you watched Baji wail on the poor guy. The force of his punches shook the offending delinquent’s whole body, head to toe. Punch after punch, his fists grew bloody.

Minutes passed, and the man before you had long lost consciousness. Still, Baji’s assault remained uninterrupted.

Surely he had lost feeling in his hands by now. The skin on his fist couldn’t even be identified as skin anymore, painted and dripping red.

You knew that when that block head was lost in thought, like he was now, you could never get his attention with words.

When you would study together, and he’d all but forgotten your presence, the only way to get his attention…

So, unfaltering, you laid one hand along the back of the blood stained monster protecting you. Without fear, you gently wrapped your other hand around his wrist. Immediately he froze.

The night was silent. Your lone whisper broke the tense atmosphere. “Baji,”

Finally getting his attention, Baji slowly turned his head to look you face to face. Eye to eye.. as though it really was for the first time.

Damn the ‘love at first sight‘ troupe. Baji called bullshit since preschool. But there was no better way to describe the unfamiliar feeling growing in his stomach.

Your expression was angel-like. Smile as kind as the heavens, moved with emotion. Looking him in the eye for the first time was also sending you into a vulnerable state. It was so pleasant feeling.

Baji couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. You were literally stealing the breath out of his lungs.

Were you getting closer? Why did it feel like one side of his face was being cradled? Wait, were you—-

Your body moved on it’s own, unable to restrain yourself, until the very last second.

Baji could feel the gentle sigh of your breath against his lips, any sudden movement could mean life or death. He took a sharp breath in, but by the time he gathered his bearings, you weren’t kissing him like he thought you might, not on the lips at least.

Your lips gently rested on his sweat and blood stained forehead.

You parted, created distance shyly, and tried to glare at Baji. But it was impossible.

“I like the way you fight. Give it your all, Keisuke. You have to do well on tomorrow’s test, s-so try not to hit your head too much.” You quickly lectured, softly punching his shoulder, before awkwardly backing away. Grossly aware of your surroundings now, having All eyes on you was not a good feeling.

“U-um, anyway..! I’ll be rooting for you, s-so don’t lose!”

Baji hated thinking about his future.

But god. Damn.

He did know one thing.

You would be the death of him.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Making The Bed

Tim Drake x M!Reader

[Spill Ur Guts Masterlist/Challenge]

Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Breakup, Comfort

Summary: The Reader is the son of death stroke, and of course being his son meant that the reader had to train really hard, but he was never perfect. And he has also found himself in a relationship with Tim. So he pushes Tim away to train harder and make his father proud of him. That ends up leading to the reader and Tim having a massive argument, and they break up. But they meet again, with Batman confronting death stroke about something. It ends up in a fight with the reader and Tim fighting each other, but the reader overworked himself so hard to the point where he passes out mid-fight and Tim immediately stops to take care of him.

Quote: “I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were the youngest of all of Slade’s kids. Some might think that you were the most spoiled and loved because of this, but it was the opposite. You were not the best at combat, but you weren’t the worst. But your father made you see yourself as a disappointment because you weren’t as good as your other siblings were. He still made you his sidekick though, which confused you. But nonetheless you still tried your best to impress him.

One of the nights of helping your father with whatever he needed help with, Batman and red-robin showed up. You would have lied if you said that you didn’t blush a little underneath your mask. You couldn’t remember what happened that day, but you knew you caught feelings for him.

Tim would’ve been lying too if he said he didn’t catch feelings as soon as he saw you. He didn’t know what to do, so one day, when your father let you out on your own, you bumped into the vigilante and he immediately went after you. After a few minutes of him chasing you, he eventually pinned you to the wall and kissed you, and you two became a thing.

The two of you obviously couldn’t tell either of your dad’s about your relationship. Even with having to keep your relationship a secret, the both of you still remained together, you even revealed your secret identities to each other. And every time you “fought” you always pulled your punches and vice versa. Your father would quickly notice this though.

“What were you thinking y/n! You could’ve easily killed him right then and there! But you decided to let him go! You’re useless! God sometimes I even wonder why I even had you!” Slade shouted.

You had to stand there and nod, with tears swelling in your eyes. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You needed his approval. So from then on, whenever you fought with Tim, you would go all out, and Tim would notice it. So after that happened for about 7 more times, Tim texted you to meet him at a random roof top. You quickly snuck out of your house to meet him.

“Hey baby” Tim smiled as he tried to kiss you.

You didn’t let him though, which reminded Tim what he called you here for.

“Y/n, you’ve been acting different recently, is everything okay?” Tim spoke up.

“Yeah, I’m completely fine, why did you ask?” You said as you nipped at the side of your pants.

“No y/n, I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying, please, just tell me the truth, I won’t be mad” Tim said softly.

“Nothing’s wrong alright, I’m fine” you said again.

“Y/n stop! I know you’re lying because you keep picking at the side of your pants each time you lie! Just tell me the truth!” Tim said, raising his voice.

“Can you stop! I’m fine! If this is seriously all you called me for why even call me here to begin with!” You lashed out.

“Just tell me y/n! You’ve been more aggressive during our ‘fights’! Is it your dad making you do this?” Tim asked.

You wanted to tell Tim so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Can’t you just mind your business?! For the last time, I’m fine!” You shouted.

“Y/n please! If there’s anything wrong just tell me! I’m here for you” Tim said.

You couldn’t take this anymore so you just yelled at Tim with a mix of stress and fury.

“I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!” You screamed as you stormed back to your house.

Tim stood there in shock, still trying to process what you just said while you were waking further from him. Tim began to break down on the rooftop, wondering what caused you to lash out like that. Tim, after sobbing for what felt like hours, eventually went back to Wayne manor, and went straight to his room, ignoring his brothers, Bruce, and even Alfred.

When you got back to your room, you immediately realized what you just did and you started to cry. You lost the one person who loved you for you. You cried into your bed all night, you even considered texting Tim, but you couldn’t do it.

For the next few weeks you were training yourself, almost to death, you even passed out once, but luckily, Rose noticed and helped you up. Tim on the other hand, locked himself in his room, not letting anyone talk to him. And if he did, (which was only when he was when he needed to use the restroom or to go on patrol) he didn’t talk to anyone or give them the cold shoulder.

It had been 6 months since the breakup and you were in the training room when your father walked in.

“Y/n get ready, the bats is gonna meet us at a warehouse for a… meeting..” Slade said before he left the room.

As soon as you heard this, you knew it was your opportunity to impress your father. You just had to pray Tim wouldn’t show up. You practiced harder than usual, which caused you to be out of breath, and almost caused you to pass out again, but you couldn’t disappoint your father.

Meanwhile, Bruce knocked on Tim’s door, telling Tim that he had to have a discussion with Slade, and he needed all the help he could get if things went bad (which was bound to happen). Like you, Tim could only hope that you weren’t there, but the chances of that were very low.

When you and your father got ready, you headed to the warehouse, where Batman was already there, waiting, but he was alone. It rose suspicions from both you and your father, but who were you to complain? Tim on the other hand, he was waiting on the roof of the warehouse, looking at you through the glass ceiling.

“Hey, Tim. You okay? You’ve been acting depressed for the last six months now and you’ve been staring at the window for a while now” Dick said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for Bruce’s signal” Tim reassured.

Soon enough Batman gave them the signal and they broke in through the window. As soon as you saw Tim, your eyes locked onto him, tears threatening to fall. Dick, Jason, and Bruce immediately went after Death stroke while Tim and Damian went after you.

You tried your best to fight them both off at once, you could tell that Tim was holding back, but Damian on the other hand, wasn’t. Soon enough you managed to beat Damian, which was a pretty impressive feat from you, considering how weak you were. Now all you had to do was beat Tim, but that was easier said than done.

You glared at Tim, and Tim glared at your mask, but before either of you could start to fight, you blacked out and collapsed to the ground, causing both Slade and Tim to look at you.

“Y/n!” Tim yelled out, getting everyone else’s attention.

Tim rushed over to check up on you, not caring that his family and your dad was watching. Tim quickly pulled your mask off to reveal your face. He missed looking at your face, he missed kissing it, he missed the feel of your face, he missed everything about you.

“Get away from my son!” Slade shouted as he pushed Tim away,

Although Slade acted like he didn’t care for you, on the inside, he cared about you a lot, that’s why he let you be his sidekick. Meanwhile, everyone was giving Tim a confused look, even Bruce.

“I can explain” Tim said.

“Yeah, that would be perfect right about now” Jason said.

“I’ve always had feelings for him, from the day that I saw him, and one day when I was chasing him down, it just happened” Tim explained.

“How long has this been going on for?” Bruce asked.

“It was going to be a year, and then he broke up with me, this is the first time I’ve seen him in months” Tim replied.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting differently” Dick said as everyone was putting the pieces together.

As everyone was talking, Slade appeared behind Tim.

“So, you’re the one my son was dating, I knew he was dating someone but I could never find out who. Why did he fall for someone like you? How do I know that you won’t break my son’s heart?” Slade said.

Slade sounded calm, something that far beyond normal for him. Tim was confused, but at least Slade wasn’t trying to cut his head off.

“Your son and I loved each other more than anything, he was always my number one priority, I can’t live without him, I love him so much” Tim responded.

“I trust you, but if you hurt my son, physically, or emotionally, I will make sure that you will beg for me to kill you” Slade threatened.

“And if your son hurts our brother, we’ll make sure to send his decapitated head back to you” Damian spoke up.

“Okay then” Slade said before picking up your unconscious body home.

“That’s not what I expected, I thought for sure he was gonna chop your head off” Jason shrugged.

———————————————————————

When you awoke from your unconscious state, you were in your bed, and your father was sitting next to you in your bed. Something felt off though.

“So, you and the boy wonder huh?” Slade asked.

WHAT?! HOW DID HE FIND OUT?!

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” you stuttered.

“I’ve known for a while that you were with someone y/n, I’m your father. The problem was, I never knew with who, until now” he spoke calmly.

“I’m so sorry dad, I didn’t mean t-”

“Don’t be sorry, I can’t control who you do and don’t fall in love with” Slade said.

“So you’re not mad?” You asked.

“No. But I have a question, something about his tone, felt off, tell me why” Slade said.

“I broke up with him, because I wanted to focus on training, to impress you” you confessed.

“Now I know why you fainted. I have one last question” Slade spoke.

“Do you really love him?”

“Yes, I love him more than anything, I want to get back with him, but I doubt he wants anything to do with me anymore” you sighed.

“Go”

“What?” You said confusingly

“Go tell him that you want to get back with him” Slade ordered.

“R-really?” You stuttered.

“It’s obvious that you two love each other a lot, and I am in no position to keep the two of you from each other” Slade said.

With that, you texted Tim to meet you at the same roof top you broke up with him on, and you ran.

When you got there, Tim was already there waiting for you, which caused you to slow down your walking. You both stared at each other for what felt like eternity.

“Tim… I-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Tim ran up to you and kissed you. You were shocked at first, but you closed your eyes and gave in to the kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate. You held him closer to you, you didn’t want to let go, you didn’t want to lose him, not again. When your lips finally departed you were already craving it again.

“I’m so sorry Tim I’m so sorry I lost my temper on you. I- I was just so stressed that I just snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to. I missed you so, so much. I missed you more than anything, please forgive me” you cried.

“I missed you too y/n, please, don’t ever leave me again” Tim sobbed as he hugged you.

“I won’t, I won’t ever leave you again” you sniffled as rested your head onto his.

[yesimwriting]

Hi! I'm so exited that you asked for request for tasm Peter Parker, the second I saw it all I could think of is him being like, assertive..does that make sense? I don't know he's just so sassy and lovely, and I believe whole heartedly that when it comes to people he cares about he can be very pushy with them.

So like I don't just like a scenario for you to build off of, like domestic assertiveness like making his s/o take breaks when they're over working themselves like gently but firmly "suggesting" they eat something or take a nap or go out side, get fresh air you know anything. This is just something for you to go off but I'd love anything you'd make. I hope you have a lovely day :)

a/n omg i hope i captured the vibe that you described bc it's just SO GOOD like so in character and cute,, he's just meant to be a bf

----

It's so much like clockwork that you don't even need to look up from your notebook to undo the latch of your fire escape. Which is a good thing, because the day has somehow managed to crawl by at a snail's pace and still slip through your fingers too quickly.

All of your homework has piled up through no fault of your own. At first, only two classes decided to share a deadline, but then another teacher assigned you an essay and another added a test on the math chapter you've understood the least. At first you thought you'd be able to push through and finish off most of your work today, giving you a decent amount of time to try to decode your calc. But now it's been hours and your eyelids are feeling heavy and you've just started a pre-test worksheet that you had forgotten about.

The now familiar groan of the fire escape being pulled open barely registers. Despite how hard you're trying to keep all your focus on the study guide, a warmth you've gotten much too used to roots itself in your stomach.

"Always unlocked." Peter's already pulled himself into your bedroom, the shift from the outside world to your room a transition he could complete with his eyes shut. "As Spider-Man, I should tell you not to for safety reasons, but it does make it easier when I'm tired."

Your eyes tear away from the page long enough to look at him. Peter's mask is already pulled up his face.

"I don't--you're tired?" You blink hard, trying to focus. "Was it..." The whole Spider-Man thing being so open is still relatively new to you. Peter's never made it feel like a particularly sore or easily triggering issue, but you know how much trust he's giving you by being this casual about it. And you're prone to worrying, to pushing and doting and wanting to wrap Peter in bubblewrap. "...Eventful?"

Peter frowns, leaning forward on the window sill. "That gets a reaction?"

You retrace your words, wondering if you've said something wrong or overly sappy. You can't find any mistakes. "What?"

He relaxes at the genuine confusion in your voice. He gives himself a second to really look at you, at the notebook on your lap. "Are you still doing homework?"

"Uh..." It's almost like the papers surrounding you are embarrassing. "Yeah, a lot of stuff's coming up." You let out a breath that doesn't exactly work as a laugh. "And I wanted to finish it early so I'd have time to ask Gwen to go over some calc stuff with me."

Peter stands slowly He's not used to this, to feeling unsure in your room or around you in general. Maybe you're trying to be passive aggressive. Did he forget something? Or stand you up or do something to upset you? He can't remember anything negative about any of your interactions, but that could just be his side of things. Maybe he's been taking advantage of you knowing his secret. It's easy to become less attentive when he can just fall back on blaming everything on Spider-Man.

"I know about calc." It feels small, almost shy.

"I know." You swallow, hoping to hide any insecurity in your voice. Peter's the most important person in your life and on days like this you don't feel like you deserve to even run in the same circles. All of the stuff you're struggling with comes naturally to him and on top of that he's a freaking superhero. Complaining about not getting math and school stress has to sound stupid and unimportant to someone who literally fights crime. "But I was going to see her tomorrow morning anyway, and it's just some basic stuff I want to make sure I get before the test on Friday."

You don't want his help. He tries not to take your reaction personally. Gwen's your friend just as much as he is and there a lot of reasons you could be waiting. Maybe you're frustrated and over trying to understand it today. Or maybe the way Gwen summarizes things makes more sense to you.

Peter stands, consciously telling himself to let it go. It's been awhile since the two of you have just gotten to peacefully co-exist. Okay, only awhile by your usual standards considering that he had hung out for awhile after school before his usual patrol. But that was mostly studying, and he misses you more than he can justify.

He picks up a notebook and a few papers scattered next to you, shuffling them neatly before sitting next to you.

"Peter."

"What?"

The amount of innocence pushed into the word forces you to look up. "I'm--" He's closer than you thought he'd be, staring at you with a partial pout. "I'm trying to do homework."

His hand shifts, pinky touching the side of your hand. "Take a break." Your head snaps up. "You've been doing it for way too long."

Your chin comes up a fraction of an inch. "Because I need to."

"You're going to burn yourself out." You want to listen, to at least pretend to be considering his opinion, but your tired and his tone is so contradicting. A touch of actual annoyance is in there, but it's undercut by an exasperated softness. Equal parts stress and a concern that'd better fit a parent correcting a child for their own good. It's too genuine and oddly nice. You smile. "I'm serious."

You recover quickly, forcing yourself to frown, "I know, but I'm seriously okay." You wish there was a way to physically prove it. "I just..." You wipe your eyes with the back of your palm, "I have to do this sometimes." Something about the way your voice softens tells him that you're not talking about just homework. "It's not always natural."

Peter turns too quickly, his knee bumping into yours. "Hey." He doesn't know where he's going with this. Doesn't know how to talk to you about these kinds of things without melting and fully exposing himself.

"You are so smart and-and good at so many things." The praise hits you straight in the chest, making warmth rush to your face. "But taking care of yourself isn't one of them."

You roll your eyes, finally finding it in yourself to look at him. "Which one of us messed up their hip two weeks ago and wouldn't go to the doctor?"

Peter sighs, "It was not messed up."

"It so was." You crane your neck to better glare at him. "You could barely walk."

He presses his lips together, fighting down a smile. "It was not that bad."

"I had to help you get to my bathroom." You keep your tone light, partially teasing, but it still doesn't feel that casual. That was the first time you had seen him that injured. It had turned your stomach so much you couldn't even overthink about how close the two of you were physically as you helped him.

That was almost your breaking point. You wanted to get him to a hospital. The two of you could have come up with some kind of story to justify the injuries that wouldn't have outed him as Spider-Man. But Peter practically begged you to let it go, to just patch him up like usual and let him crash in your room for the night. You wanted to push, but he had been so insistent and nice as he tried to comfort you. You caved. You always cave.

"I was--a little sore." The admission is reluctant. You tilt your head, eyebrows raising as if to say that you've made your point. "Not the same." He says it like that should take away from your feeling of victory, but it really doesn't. "I'm serious, you can't work yourself sick."

You let out a small sigh. If it was coming from anyone else, you'd be annoyed enough to tell them off. But this isn't anyone, it's Peter who's trying to mother hen you to death for no other reason than worry.

You reach for his arm, fingers gently squeezing just above his wrist. "I'm not sick." He turns his hand over. "It just--it's not always natural to me...and I have to make up the difference."

"Don't do that." Your pointer finger drags down the face of his palm. "You're too smart not to see it." Peter 's hand shifts into a fist, trapping your pointer finger. "And you're too smart to burn yourself out."

There's no way for you to get any response out, so you just stare at where your fingers tangle together. "I'm okay, I just need to keep my calc grade up."

He's close enough now that when he lets out a tired breath you can feel it against the side of your head. You can't remember moving closer. "And if you fall asleep in class or can't focus because you're exhausted."

"That doesn't--" You don't know what to say. That that doesn't count, that that kind of thing doesn't happen to you. You know that Peter's just trying to help, but you're not in the mood for reason and understanding. You just want to feel like you have it together the way everyone else seems to. "You get less sleep than me."

You push yourself further onto your bed, creating some needed space. The closer you are to Peter, the easier it is for you to melt. One inch too far and before you know it you're holding hands or his head is on your shoulder and your fingers are gently combing through his hair.

A part of it feels petulant and a little silly. He's your best friend, you don't know why you're starting a competition over whose worse at self care.

"Yeah," he admits easily, leaning back so that he can better look at you, "That's how I know it's hard." Peter shifts again, the movement has your notebook almost falling forward. "And I don't--" He sighs, eyes dropping down to the mess of papers between you. "I don't want that for you." The words are mumbled quietly, his attention focusing on organizing your notebooks and paper.

It's enough to get you to visibly soften. He's just looking out for you the way you want to look out for him. "I know, it's just--" You watch Peter tap his pile of your notes against his leg, straightening them out. "It all has to get done and I--I see everyone just getting it and doing all these other things and I'm barely holding on to the bare minimum."

Peter stops. "What?" He immediately sets down your notes in favor of reaching for your hand. "You can't--" He squeezes your fingers, more for his own sake than more. "Getting the grades you do isn't the bare minimum and you're--" Peter stops himself from gushing over how smart he thinks you are. "Is that why you don't want me to help you with calc?"

Spider-Man has made his life harder in a lot of ways, but he never thought it'd hurt his relationship with you. It's been a conscious choice. You're a priority.

Maybe he's been talking about it too much...coming off like he thinks he's that in important when in reality he just wants to impress you. Is that it? Have his attempts to seem cool and brave and like a guy worth your attention come off as ego?

"Is..." He isn't sure where to start. "Is this because of..." Peter can't bring himself to say it, so all he does is lift the hand still holding onto the mask.

"No," you blurt out a little too quickly, "I-I mean I don't think so, at least not fully." You sigh, embarrassed that this even needs to be a conversation. "It's that you're balancing that and your grades perfectly and Gwen's got her internship and one week of extra assignments is all it takes to throw me off. And it feels like I always need help with this stuff." You briefly squeeze your eyes shut, unsure how you even admitted that. "And now I'm officially terrible friend. I suck."

Peter pulls your intertwined hands forward, settling your fist on his knee. "No, you're not." You give him a look that says you don't buy a word of it. "You do so much, even if you don't see it." He drags his thumb across your knuckles. "You help me a lot."

You don't feel like you do. Peter's the one going out and taking the hits every night. The most you do is research certain local crimes and patch him up the best you can. That's nothing compared to everything he does for everyone. It's not a competition, but you definitely don't feel okay adding to his work load. "Peter--"

"I'm serious, do you think I could do everything I do without knowing that you're here?" Peter's expression blanks. Too much. Way too much. "And that--that you're ready to help clean me up and-and research all that--" He cuts himself off again. There is no good way to comfort you without accidentally admitting how much he cares. "Crime stuff."

Despite yourself, you smile, "Crime stuff?"

Instead of taking the bait and falling for your slight teasing, he holds onto his point. "You get what I mean." He lets go of his mask in order to squeeze your hand between both of his. "You're important and so smart, even if you're not always smart enough to see it."

Heat rushes to your face. "Okay." A reluctant retreat. Peter secretly indulges in his victory. "Help me with calc?"

"Okay," Peter agrees easily, "Tomorrow, though, because you need sleep."

You roll your eyes, "You are such a mom sometimes."

"You're the one that wants to get Spider-Man a jacket."

You let out a mock gasp. That suggestion had been a joke. Kind of. "First off, I was kidding." Eh. "And second, it gets cold in the winter and your suit's so thin."

Peter grins before taking his hands back. You frown a little at the loss of contact, but try to recover quickly. "Can I stay over?" He wraps his arms around himself, exaggerating the chill in the air by moving his hands up and down his arms. "Because it's so...cold?"

You fight down a laugh, reaching over for a pillow to hit him in the shoulder. Honestly, Peter's found some lame excuses to sleep over, but recently it's like he's not even trying. Which is perfectly okay with you--if he's tired, he's tired. And also, it's always kind of nice when Peter stays over. Nicer than it should be. "I should lock you out and let you freeze."

"Mhm," he hums, pushing himself to his feet, "Do I have any--"

You pick up your homework so that by the time he gets back from changing, Peter will have space to lay down. "Top drawer, I threw your sweatpants and some of your shirts in the laundry the other day, so they're good to go."

Peter lets himself smile once his back is into you. He can't remember ever giving the whole domestic thing much thought before he started crashing here kind of regularly. Your parents are rarely an issue, both of them have long commutes to work which means they're usually asleep by the time Peter can swing in and they leave for work in such a rush that if they do check on you before leaving, Peter only has to worry about hiding for a second, and his extra sense always warns him in time. They're a lot less likely to catch him bruised and injured than his aunt.

"You're perfect." The honestly of his words leaves his face hot. It's a good thing he's still not facing you.

You're still too busy organizing your school stuff for tomorrow morning to notice the way that sentimentality swells in his throat. "Mhm."

"I mean it," he pulls open the drawer, taking out what he needs to sleep, "You need to give yourself more credit or I'm going to do it for you."

Warmth begins to crawl up your chest. Why is your best friend the kindest, most understanding, overwhelmingly pretty person you've ever met? "That's the worst threat I've ever heard."

Peter shuts the drawer and turns towards your bedroom door. Your bathroom is just down a short hall, and as long as he's quiet, he won't get caught. "That's because it's not a threat."

You move to sit at the edge of your bed, "Oh, are you--" Asking if he needs any kind of patching up still feels awkward. You're not sure why...there's nothing even remotely feely about it even though it's overly touchy, even by your standards. "Did you get hurt at all, or--?"

"Oh," he shakes his head once, "No, I'm--" Peter knew you'd ask, you always do because he doesn't always love showing you the more tolerable bruises and cuts until you give him those soft, worried eyes. But he's actually fine tonight, which means that he didn't really have an excuse to stop by and sleepover. "I'm good tonight, just a little tired."

You nod, expression so casual Peter can't read much from it. Maybe you're so used to him crashing by now that you don't even need to think through the reasons. "Good. I like when you're safe."

Fondness tugs at Peter's chest. "I'm always safe."

You roll your eyes as he slips out the door. A few minutes later, Peter comes back. You're already laying in bed, beneath the covers, face only illuminated by your small, bedside lamp and cell phone screen.

"I know I said you need sleep..." You push yourself to sit up a little straighter. "But if you wanted to watch something for a little bit..."

He trails off, trying to push against the slight guilt of selfishness. Most nights when he stays over, Peter tries to time his arrival to give you two enough time to watch something on TV. The two of you usually fall asleep too quickly to care what's on, but it does make it easier to get close to you. If you guys watch TV first, he can find a window to hold your hand or pull an arm around your shoulder.

But you really do need sleep tonight.

"Yeah," you grin, "Sounds nice." You push yourself a little more to your side of the bed. "Just for a little." Both of you know that the TV will be on until whoever falls asleep first has drifted off. The one that's still awake will have to search the bed for a remote.

"Cool," Peter agrees, walking around your bed to turn the bedside lamp off, "Wanna watch the show from last time?"

You nod lazily before finding the remote. Peter gets into bed as you adjust the volume before opening the right streaming service. With a few clicks, your show is on. As the intro roles onto the screen, you drop your head onto Peter's shoulder.

"Hey," he whispers, knowing you're half asleep, "You can't let yourself get stressed out like that and not--" He trusts you so much, and he wants you to be able to feel the same way for him. "Not tell me about it, okay?" He finds your arm in the dark, fingers instinctually drawing patterns against the inside of your wrist. "Please?"

You try to sit up a little straighter, but all you actually do is just read your head more fully on him. "Okay." It's a fair request considering the way you bully him into admitting to every new cut and bruise, no matter how small. "I promise." He trails his nails down your arm, "I'd pinky promise, but I'm too tired."

Peter lets out a partial breath, amusement trying to disguise itself as annoyance. He moves his hand, taking his time to find your pinky. He bends his around yours. "Do you only keep me around to do things for you?"

Even though the joke is the complete opposite of everything he's just said, you still smile as you let out a mock gasp. "No, I keep you around 'cause you're pretty."

The teasing comment is worse than the kind of response you'd throw at him if you were more awake. He's suddenly glad he turned off your bedside lamp before laying down. "I'm pretty?"

A second passes and no response. Not even a hum of acknowledgement. Carefully, Peter leans forward and sees that your eyes are shut and your breathing has evened out.

[l-starlight-l]

The love of a hero

Smoke signals

Masterlist

A/N: so I was reading some of my old post and low-key hated how it was written so I decide to rewrite the whole love of a hero series. Hopefully it’s a little better now!

Description: it’s your first day of work at Arkham asylum and you share a smoke break with a handsome hero

Warning: smoking, cursing, mental hospital

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

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:Reference:

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Being one of the most successful Psychiatrists in the country you hadn’t planned on getting fired from your dream job. You had been working at black-gate prison for three years and in one day it all went down the drain. You needed a new scene away from all of the shit that happened so you had decided Gotham was the perfect city to move to and there just so happened to be an open position at Arkham Asylum. You had a good feeling about your new life as soon as you made it off the train. You had friends in the city and it seemed like a place that needed a good fixing up, which was your specialty.

The only condition of the asylum hiring you with your strange record, was you had to start immediately. Which meant as soon as you got into Gotham you were racing to get to the creepy building on the outskirts of the city. When you got there you could tell they were in deep need of staff. A kind older lady met me in the lobby and introduced herself as the head doctor, she gave you a tour of the facility and a list of patients that were yours. The list was very long, it had about sixteen names on it, and you had never had this many patients. You made it your goal of the day to at least introduce yourself to each one of the patients. As you scanned the list some very popular names were on it like, Harvey dent or Pamela Isley. One name in particular caught your eye, Harleen Quinzel, you had known her before she became what she is now. You had went to school together and ended up getting pretty close. You pushed her to the end of the list so you could prepare yourself to see her again after everything that she’s been through.

You had just finished your sixth session of the day with “the scarecrow” and it had shaken you up a little so you thought a brake would help. You looked around for a quiet place where you could get some fresh air. Luckily when you walked out a pair of doors at the back of the building there was a small bench and no one to be seen. You let out a sigh of relief and plopped down on the bench. You rustled for something in your pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. It was a bad habit you had picked up while at black gate but you were cutting down. You only smoked when you were stressed, which seemed to be happening more and more often. Patting your pocket you find nothing, “are you fucking kidding me” slips from your lips as you realize you don’t have a lighter.

You leaned back and close your eyes trying to find some relief before going back to work. There’s soft footsteps that land right in front of you. You lift open one of your eyes and see a very large man in-front of you. You look up at him, he’s wearing a big red helmet. You think for a second, there were a lot of vigilantes in Gotham but which one was this. “Red hood?” You quietly asked confused.

“What are you doing here” he asked but not in an aggressive tone, it was more of a confused tone. He didn’t put right answer you question but you took it as a yes.

“I should be asking you that” you say with a tinge of annoyance in your words, “you’re the big masked man who came out of no where”

You can’t actually tell through the mask but his body language makes it seem like he’s embarrassed. He reaches for his head and takes his helmet off revealing a very handsome face clad in a black domino mask. “Sorry I was just surprised, no one is usually over here” he says softly ruffling His bad helmet hair.

You nod like you agree with him even though you have no idea. You hold up the cigarette in your hand and ask “you got a light”.

He nods and takes out a cigarette of his own, putting it in his mouth and holding the light to it. You get up and touch the tips of the cigarettes together in the flame so they light simultaneously. When you sit down and look back up at him you can see his face is a little flustered. Maybe that was a weird thing to do to a stranger. “So are you a new doctor here?” He asks clearing the awkwardness from his voice.

You nod taking a drag off the cigarette and blowing it out, “it’s my first day” you say with a laugh. You eyes wonder up and down him as you wonder, “and you? Are you one of the “bat-boys” that run around Gotham” you ask doing air quotes with your fingers.

He chuckles, a deep sound that makes your ears hum. A smile grows on your face as you watch him. “I suppose you could call me that. You don’t look like you’re from Gotham?” He questions taking you in.

“I’m not” you say bringing your knees to your chest on the bench and taking another hit of the cigarette, “I just moved to the city, well not yet, after my shift I get to move into my new apartment” you admit.

He smiles and opens his mouth like he’s about to ask something else but his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket, he reluctantly steps away to answer it. You can tell he is annoyed with the person on the other side. You watch him with a smile on your lips, you caught yourself being a creep and take another drag and look away. He finishes up on the phone and walks back over, putting out his smoke. “See you around doc” he says with a warm smile and disappears into the shadows. His smile stays with you even when he’s gone, it felt so warm and genuine. You let out the breath you were holding and finish your cigarette. You stand up from the bench and dust yourself off, you need to see him again you decide. You walk back into the building regretting the next few consults you have.

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Word count: 1,029 >~<

Tag list: @princessbl0ss0m @mxtokko @atadoddinnit

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[bisexual-cryptid]

adhd eddie munson is something that can be so personal 😌

eddie is a very aggressively affectionate person. he just gets so overwhelmed by his emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with them. this means he’ll often just hit steve’s arm with his palms whenever he sees him. not hard enough to hurt, more like little love taps, just enough for them to be a little too close to painful. steve really doesn’t mind, he loves how eddie touches him and knows his love taps are just because he is excited to see him.

eddie has a bit of an oral fixation. he is almost always chewing on something be it hoodie strings, hair ties, his hair, his necklace, or steve. steve is his favorite one to chew on, leading to many hickeys whenever they’re together. not even in a sexual or promiscuous way either. it’s just that he loves steve so much and doesn’t know what to do with all the emotions he feels towards him so he’ll just chew on him. often times it will result in steve having hickeys and bite marks all over his arms and hands bc those are the most easily accessible to eddie.

the reason eddie got held back twice was because he has major gifted kid syndrome. he was a star student when he was a kid but then he got to high school and things just got harder. he had a hard time concentrating and he just didn’t understand what he was learning. if he couldn’t figure something out on the first try he would give up. which meant failing. a lot.

eddie is a very loud person but he actually has pretty bad social anxiety. he masks his anxiety with his loud voice and movements. if everyone already thinks he’s a freak, he can’t become even more of a freak to them. at least, that’s his reasoning behind it.

dnd and music are definitely his two biggest hyperfixations. he also loves lord of the rings but it’s not quite as big as the other two. he pours his entire heart and soul into every campaign and song he writes. often times steve will have to physically pull him to bed bc he has been working on a new campaign/song for 14 hours straight and hasn’t taken a break.

one of the reasons he wears so much jewelry and so many chains is to fidget with them. it helps that they also look metal as fuck, but he first started wearing them to play with throughout the day. it was something his uncle had suggested when he noticed how restless he would get sitting down for long periods of time.

he will often drink a cup of coffee right before bed. the first time steve sees him do it he is absolutely appalled because what are you doing eddie! you’re gonna be up all night! he just shrugs explaining it makes him sleepy. (steve is bewildered when eddie is out cold only a half hour later)

[ghostlychief]

tomorrow will be kinder

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

WC: 1900+

Warnings: brief mention of deaths; hurt/comfort; some fluff

Summary: When overly stressed by the calamity of your job, you find yourself pulling away from your teammates and even sometimes, your closest friends. Luckily for you, they don’t go anywhere, and patiently wait for your return. Although one person in particular, never lets you fester alone.

A/N: Hello!!! Feels like I haven't posted in awhile, so here we are. I hope if you stumble across it, you enjoy <3

-*-*-

You look down at the ground, while smoke billows around you, slightly clouding your vision. All you see are bodies caked in mud, lying motionless on the dirt path and you wonder to yourself how many dead bodies you have seen throughout your career.

How many? You couldn’t even count, there’s no point, not when it’s been this many. Maybe this was the tipping point for you. When the cold bodies that once held lives don’t bother you anymore. You no longer feel sonder creeping through your bones, making sure it covers you completely when you witness death. No, you just carry on like nothing happened. Day after day, your capacity to care and feel anything slowly drained out, and now you’re left empty and dry, wishing for relief from the arid cracks forming within you.

It's like you’re on autopilot, and have been for awhile now. After your last mission, you vaguely remember writing up your section of the report and handing it off to Price. You might have gone back to your quarters and spent the remainder of the day in bed. You cannot recall.

The days since then have gone by slowly, not much action going on. You don’t mind the quiet because sooner or later it’s going to get louder and louder until you’re back where you started: with destruction and death surrounding you, once again tipping you over.

You know you have been acting different. This has happened before, and your teammates understand why. They’re not too pushy about it, even though it seems like they ask you out to drinks or dinner more often than usual. You know they’re just worried and want you to feel included and that you are not on your own for this. You appreciate them, you really do. But they eventually get the hint that you just need some time by yourself, and the invitations stop coming. You don’t mind though, now you can finally rest without any external cacophonous noise. You only have to deal with the noise up in your head.

Going back to your quarters, you shut the blinds and lock your door, finally ready to take a fucking nap. You shut your eyes and sleep overcomes you.

-*-*-

When you finally come to, you realize you’ve woken up due to someone knocking (quite loudly) on your door. You briefly glance at the window, and there is no longer sunshine peeking through, so it must be past dinner time. You look at your watch and see that it’s almost 8p.m. You slept for a few good hours.

You rustle your way out of bed, not really caring what you look like. Unlocking your door, you mentally curse at whoever decided to come wake you, and you swing the door open more aggressively than you meant to.

When you glance up, you notice your teammate, Ghost, standing tall in your door frame, his toned arms crossed over his chest. He, for once, isn’t wearing any kind of mask over his face, which allows your eyes to dance across the scars that cover him. He has one in the hollow of his left cheek, a couple on his temple, and finally, one jagged mark near his upper lip, which has come to be your favorite scar of his. You were with him when he got it, after all.  

You don’t miss the skip in your heartbeat as you admire the man in front of you, having to crane your neck in the slightest to do so.

You manage to say, “What are you doing here?” Your voice sounds a bit rough and groggy since you just woke up. You’re also pretty sure your hair is a mess too, and of course your t-shirt and shorts are ruffled in that “after nap” look. So basically, you are the spitting image of beauty.

“C’mon now, Dumpling. We both know why I’m here.” He once again makes your heart skip a beat, and you mentally curse him for it. Who is he to come here and make you feel these things? You were once annoyed by the nickname he gave you, but now, you mentally blush whenever he calls you that.

You still remember the day he designated the name for you. It was one of the first times he came to your room. He was fascinated by all of the small trinkets you had, looking around your desk and the shelves on your wall. When he came across your dumpling light, he started laughing. It’s one of the few times you’ve heard him laugh at all.

He turns towards you, a small smile on his lips, “Does that actually provide any light for your room? It’s so tiny.”

You restrain the urge to scowl at your new found friend from work, and say, “Actually, he does light up my room quite well. It’s for the ambiance.” Your tone quirked up at when you said ‘ambiance,’ which had Simon laughing again, but this time at you.

“Here, look.” You walk over and turn off most of your lights, only leaving on the string of lights and a couple other small lights. Low and behold, the dumpling light stood out amongst his companions, illuminating the shelf he was sitting on, casting a warm glow on you and Simon.

He looks so soft in the luminosity, looks so different than the rigid man you see in the field every day. You refrain the urge to trace his scars with the pads of your fingertips, so desperately wanting to trace his lips. You really need to snap out of it.

Simon acquiesced raising his hands up, “Alright, alright. I misspoke.”

You bump your shoulder against his, arms crossed, “Damn right. Never insult my dumpling light again. He’s good at his job.”

Simon turns his head towards you, “This dumpling means a lot to you, huh?”

You know he’s just teasing and you shrug, “I guess. I mean I’ve had him for years, and look how cute he is!” Your nose scrunches up as you smiled at the stupid light, and you didn’t even notice how Simon was looking at you. But if you did notice, you would have seen his smile drop to a warm grin, eyes sparking in the tender light of your room, looking at you with endearment.

When you finally turn back to him, he ruffles your hair and asks, “So, what shall we do on our night off, Dumpling?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your voice cracks, “’Dumpling’?”

Simon leaned toward you, dipping his head down to yours so his lips were at your ear, “That’s your new nickname.”

“Oh hell no. Nope, not happening.”

“I don’t know, seems pretty fitting.” You were going to kill him.

Simon starts walking to your door, with you trailing behind him, arguing with him about his new moniker for you. Unfortunately for you, the name sticks.

You bring yourself back to the present and quip back, “To bug me?”

Ghost huffs, and decides to just bulldoze into your room without even asking. Rude. Although, he makes sure not to bump shoulders with you. Also, it’s not like he doesn’t do it often, so you let it slide and close the door behind you. You plop down on the bed beside him, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Your room on the base isn’t spacious by any means, but it does its job while you’re on call.

You managed to get a full-size bed, which is tucked away in the corner of your room, furthest from the door. Pictures, paintings, and drawings cover the corner, making it into a cozy place for you to hide away in. String lights line your left wall, which gives the room a soft warm glow that shines in Simon’s eyes whenever he’s here. You also have little knickknacks scattered around, each one showing your personality bit by bit, almost like a trail to your soul.

You find solace within the four walls of your room, but you can’t solely give credit to it, you have to save some for the quiet, yet brooding man, sitting beside you. Your best friend.

Your shoulder rests against his sturdy one, and you can feel him breathing. You always seem to gravitate towards him, like planets orbiting a star.

The room is still quiet, and you bring your leg up on the bed and fold it, so you are slightly turned towards Simon. You bring up your other leg so it’s resting over the top of his knee. He’s wearing his favorite black joggers, and there’s a stark contrast between your white socks and his dark pants.  

You trace your fingers along his forearm, trailing up and down the length of his arm. Something you don’t even realize you started doing until Simon takes that arm and wraps it around you, pulling you into him.

His voice ruffles your hair as he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrug, and mumble, “I don’t know.” You bury your face into his chest. Once again trying to avoid confronting your problems, and instead wanting to hide away.

“Speak up, Dumpling.” There’s a teasing undertone in his request, and it almost makes you crack a grin. Almost.

He tries again, “It’s just me, you know. You can tell me anything.” His hand rests comfortably on your shoulder and his thumb starts rubbing small circles on your arm.

You let out another sigh, “I’m just tired. And overworked, and I think I need a break.” Simon waits a beat to make sure you’re done talking before he offers his opinion on the matter.

“You know, that’s completely normal for the kind of job we have, Y/N. It’s alright to want to get away from all the violence and sadness we see every day. That’s just the human in you.”

“I just feel so disconnected from everything right now, and don’t know how to fix it.” You bring your hand up to Simon’s resting on your shoulder, and intertwine your fingers with his.

Both your hands are calloused and rough, but his hands have always felt perfect in yours, his large fingers encapsulating yours easily.

“We don’t have to do anything right now to fix it. We can just be, okay?”

You manage to murmur out an “Okay.”

Simon pulls you down with him, so now you’re both laying comfortably on your bed. He momentarily sits up to tug the blanket that rests at the foot of your bed, over the you both, then wraps himself around you. You can hear his steady heartbeat in his chest, and it pulls you down like gravity, anchoring you to stay in the orbit of his warm embrace. You can feel his lips on your temple, and he places a delicate kiss there before saying, “Tomorrow will be better, I’m sure of it.” You lay like that for the remainder of the night in the company of Simon.

Simon, who never fails to assuage you, make you feel lighter and like your old self again. Make you feel human. He seemed so sure of himself that you will overcome this, so you finally believe him, that yes, tomorrow will be kinder.

-*-*-

[gghalcyon]

Call of Duty Headcanon : Felix "König" Oravec

Disclaimer: This is my personal head cannon for König, who I named Felix Oravec. Most are different from standard head cannon, including how he looks.

Call Sign: König

Name : Felix Oravec

Alias(es) : König, Felix

Gender : Male

Birthday : August 15

Nationality : Austrian

Place of Birth : Vienna, Austria

Spoken Language(s): Austrian, German, English

Sexuality: Heterosexual

APPEARANCE

6'6" with an athletic and muscular build

Has short brown hair and blue eyes.

Blue-gray eyes and tanned complexion, with multiple scars from his missions all over his body

Visible facial scar under his left eye, reddish scar.

Typically wears tactical gear and a menacing sniper mask that covers his face. 

BACKGROUND

Childhood

König was born to a middle-class family in Austria and raised in a household dominated by his mother, a tough-minded and driven woman who worked hard to provide for them ever since the sudden death of his father in a freak car accident. She had worked hard to make ends meet, often leaving König to his own devices as she worked late nights to provide for their small family.

König's father was originally from Slovakia, and upon marriage, his mother decided to take on his last name which was "Ovarek."

König had grown up feeling like an outsider, always on the fringes of the activities that seemed to fill the days of the other children. Growing up, he was an anxious child who was bullied both at home and in school. He was often the target of ridicule and mockery, and he never felt like he belonged anywhere.

For years, König kept this sense of isolation buried deep within him, only occasionally manifesting in moments of intense fear or sadness. But when he became a teenager, his feelings of abandonment and displacement began to take on a more aggressive form. He lashed out at his teachers and classmates, retreating further into himself in the process.

König's mother, sensing the growing darkness in her son, urged him to take up a hobby to help him channel his emotions. He chose rugby, a sport that he found to be both physically and mentally demanding. He trained diligently, pushing himself to be the best he could be. Eventually, his dedication paid off, and he rose to become one of the top rugby players in the region.

The sport gave König a sense of purpose, but it also led him to contemplate his place in the world. He finally comprehended what it meant to stand out from the crowd, and wanted to make use of this new insight to shape the world around him.

Early Military

At age seventeen, König made up his mind to join the military in an effort to start anew. König's journey in the military was a transformational one. Although physical training and discipline were of utmost importance, it was the mental journey that truly shaped him as an individual. He found himself becoming increasingly aware of his environment and the people around him, honing his ability to see things from different perspectives. At last, he felt like he belonged somewhere.

He was driven by a new sense of purpose, determined to use his newfound understanding of the world to make a difference in it. He quickly rose through the ranks, becoming known for his bravery on the battlefield and his commitment to protecting the lives of those around him.

However, König soon realized that the battlefield could not be won with only physical strength—it took intelligence and persuasion as well. As he progressed further up through the ranks, König began to incorporate strategies such as diplomacy and negotiation into his combat strategies, allowing him to accomplish objectives without resorting to violence when possible.

His leadership style had earned him a great deal of respect from both superiors and comrades alike, and he was recommended to join the Austrian Jagdkommando.

Austrian Jagdkommando to KorTac

After 5 years as a soldier, he took his commanders recommendation and made the decision to join the Austrian Jagdkommando. The Austrian Jagdkommando - "JaKdo" for short - drew him in because of their motto "Never Retreat" and notorious vigor.

He was one of the youngest individuals to pass the Physical Fitness Test of the Austrian Jagdkommando after completing The Pre-Selection process called AU Testung. He was one of 15% of the candidates to make it through the selection and training phase.

He served with the Jagdkommando for several years until he was honorably discharged after a pivotal mission, the same mission where he received his call name “König.”

REPUTATION AND SPECIALTIES

Reputation: Known for his fearlessness. Willing to charge into any situation, guns blazing. Earned the nickname "The Battering Ram" for busting down doors and being great as an insertion and breaching operative.

Specialties: CQB breaching, close quarters combat, weapons proficiency. CQB combat, breaching doors, insertion tactics, close-quarters weapons like shotguns and SMGs. Surprisingly agile for his size.

Weapon of Choice: Jagdkommando knife, SCAR assault rifle kitted for aggressive pushing. Also carries a sidearm. Armsel Striker semi-auto 12-gauge shotgun loaded with breaching rounds. Also carries a .45 ACP SMG.

Callsign Backstory: König earned his call sign “König” meaning “King” during his time in the Austrian military. During one pivotal mission, König's unit was tasked with raiding a human trafficking ring operating out of an old warehouse. 

The traffickers were heavily armed and used civilians as human shields. König's commanding officer ordered the unit to stand down, fearing civilian casualties, and requesting additional backup.

But König disobeyed orders, charging into the warehouse alone. He moved with ruthless efficiency, gunning down 12 enemy combatants in close quarters without harming any hostages. When the dust settled, the hostages surrounded König, calling him their savior. One little girl looked up at the imposing soldier in his black mask and said "You're like a king, sent to rescue us." 

From that day on, König was bestowed the call sign König - the German word for "King." It signifies his bravery in combat and willingness to put his life on the line to protect the innocent. The call sign stuck with him into his mercenary days, a reminder of how one man's valor can make a difference.

While he went against orders, the fact he saved so many civilians and also protected his commanding officer during battle earned him an honorable discharge.

PERSONALITY

Looks intimidating but has a big heart. He wants to use his skills to save lives and fight evil.

Wears his signature black mask during missions to keep anonymity. Contrary to rumors, he does remove his black mask when outside of missions, and when out and about with teammates and when in civilian settings. 

Prefers to let his actions speak for themselves. However, can also clearly articulate himself when necessary in a direct way.

Though he's normally reserved, he opens up over drinks with his teammates, or in 1:1 chats, revealing more of his dark humor. 

He is not a big fan of drinking, and often limits himself to one beer and/or a shot during the rare occasions he is hanging out with others. He prefers to remain sober as much as he could, not wanting to ever be like his mother who had been an abusive alcoholic. In addition, his training in Jagdkommando has taught him the importance of having his wits about him as much as possible just in case.

RELATIONSHIPS / LOVE LIFE

He is not close to his mother whom he hasn’t spoken to since he left the home at 17 years old. His mother assumes he is dead, something he wants to keep that way, as they’ve been estranged and she had been an abusive and alcoholic to him growing up.

Though he has had romantic trysts in the past, he tends to avoid them or any serious relationships that may compromise him. His first loyalty is to his mission and team. Deep down though–although he tries to deny it–he does have a wish to one day meet someone who’d accept him wholeheartedly and who he can open up to.

Love is not something that comes easily to König. His traumatic upbringing and focus on his duties have made it difficult for him to open up emotionally. He has had a few fleeting romantic encounters over the years, but nothing meaningful. 

König had a brief romance with someone during his early military service in Austria. They parted ways when König decided to join Jagdkommando, but he still fondly remembers their time together as one of the few times he was able to be vulnerable with someone. 

Now in his early 30s, König leads an isolated life, pouring all his energy into the mission at hand. While some may desire a family or relationship, he does not feel he could balance the life of a soldier with deeper personal connections. 

Though seen as cold and intimidating by many, there are rare glimpses of warmth and humanity in König when he bonds with his fellow operatives. He remains fiercely devoted to his makeshift family within KorTac, willing to lay down his life for them if needed. 

For now, the team and pursuit of the greater good is König's reason for being. He finds satisfaction in serving a purpose higher than himself. Any thoughts of romance will have to wait until he fulfills his personal unfinished mission. Underneath the mask lies a heart that, while wary, still hopes to find connection one day.

INTEREST AND HOBBIES

König spends time at the shooting range honing his marksmanship and speed drills to stay sharp with firearms and tactical weapons. He also has an impressive collection of guns stashed in his apartment.

König is particularly keen on hand-to-hand combat training, such as Krav Maga, Jiu Jitsu, and Muay Thai, and spends a large portion of his days practicing these martial arts at an MMA gym to strengthen his agility.

When he's not on a mission, König likes to go backpacking with full gear and trek into the wilderness for days; this helps him hone his survival skills and provides peace from busy city life. Being close to nature also allows him to indulge in his childhood passion: drawing and sketching landscapes and people in his pocket sketchbook.

König prefers listening to all varieties of rock music and enjoys watching live bands perform. He favors watching bands at smaller, more intimate gigs over larger festivals or arena shows. When not working out or on a mission, he generally listens to calmer sounds instead of aggressive music.

[ereardon]

You Again [Part 3] [Hangman x Reader]

Summary: It’s been five years since you last saw your childhood best friend and first love Jake Seresin. But fate, or coincidence, has you back in Jake’s life and he’s desperate not to lose you again. 

WC: 6K+ 

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death

Series masterlist; Part 1, Part 2 

Jake’s dog tags dangled around your neck, the ends tucked tightly inside your scrub top as you entered the OR scrub room. You felt the metal shifting against bare skin as you ripped open a sponge packet. Lost in thought, you scrubbed at your hands and forearms aggressively until you heard a voice over your shoulder.  

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Tina, your favorite nurse, tilted her head to look at you. She pulled down on her mask. “I’ve been watching you scrub for five minutes now. You’ve barely blinked. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, letting off the foot pump and watching the water come to a stop. You stepped through the automatic doors into the operating room, and Tina held out a cloth to dry your hands which you took before sliding on a fresh pair of gloves. You wiggled your fingers to make sure they were tightly fitted and nodded in acknowledgement. 

“First surgery of the day,” Tina said, tossing the used towel into the laundry bin near the wall. “There’s that quiet calm.” 

The room was bustling — the patient already sedated on the table, two medical students hovering in the corner with notebooks and nauseous looks on their faces, the anesthesiologist checking the ventilator, scrub nurses recounting the tools on the metal trays – but you understood what she meant. There was no blood on the floor. No damp cloud that trailed after the cases that ended with a zipped body bag. The first surgery of the day meant a clean slate. 

But it would only last for a moment. And then, chaos. 

Although you didn’t know it, while you were elbow deep in the chest cavity of a sixty-three year old man with a ruptured descending aorta, Jake was thousands of feet in the air, going head to head with enemy planes. As you called out for more clamps, more gauze, hang another blood bag, he’s bleeding out, Jake was traveling at nine hundred miles per hour, dodging bullets in a dog fight. You didn’t know that as the blood rained down over the table and across your shoes, as the lead surgeon called time of death, as you ripped off your gloves and slid down to the floor in despair, Jake’s plane was also descending, a wing on fire, out of bullets and out of time, a commander screaming into his headset to eject, a blinding whiteness overtaking him.   

All you heard was the heart monitor flatline, the urgent beeping that often haunted your dreams during call shifts sloping into a sharp whine. And then it stopped, bringing with it the all too familiar sound of death. 

Two weeks before

He was gone. 

You had done this before. Pulled yourself up, rebuilt your life after Jake Seresin left. But this time was different. There were his dog tags around your neck, for one. You had slipped them on after you finished reading his note, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine. And unlike five years ago, you knew why he left this time. 

Before you even realized, you were in your car flying across the Coronado bridge. It was early, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. You had two hours until you had to scrub for your first surgery. You could make it. 

When you pulled up to the gates at the base, a man in uniform stopped you. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Yes, I’m here to see Lieutenant Seresin.” It came out rushed. Every second mattered. “I’m not signed in, but I was here just yesterday. It’s urgent.” 

He typed across his computer in the small booth outside the gated fence. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Lieutenant Seresin’s squadron is departing this morning. I’m not allowed to let visitors enter.” 

“Are they gone already?” 

“I can’t answer that.” 

“For fuck’s sake, is he here or not?” you screamed. The man’s face remained stoic, like concrete. Any other moment you would have felt guilty at the outburst. But the only thing that mattered was knowing whether or not Jake had gotten on the ship. 

“Ma’am, that is confidential. I’m not at liberty to say.” 

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, slamming into the driver’s seat and peeling back in reverse, throwing the car into park on the other side of the gatehouse. Your fingers trembled as you dialed Jake’s number by memory. “Please pick up, please pick up.” 

It rang and rang and every time it rang your heart sped up, nearing tachycardia. You could feel your heartbeat in your ear as it pressed against the phone.  

“Jake, fuck, please pick up.” 

Finally, “Y/N.” You gasped a little hearing your name on his lips. His voice was strained. 

A tear slipped out of your eye. “Jake, please, I’m here. I’m at the gate. They won’t let me in. They say you’re leaving today.” 

You heard him cough on the receiving line. “Bunny.” Or was he choking back tears? 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving today? I thought we had time!”

“Baby, I left this morning because I didn’t want this to happen.” He paused and you paced near the gate on shaky legs. “I meant everything I wrote. You’re the reason I’m going and you’re the reason I need to come back and I fucking promise you, Bunny, I’m coming back for you.” 

Tears started to form at your lower lid, obscuring your vision. You swiped at them. 

“You look so damn pretty, darlin’, even with tears down your beautiful face.” 

You sucked in a breath and pressed your free hand to the metal fence, watching a figure appear in the distance next to one of the white hangars. You could just make out Jake’s tanned physique in his green jumpsuit, a pair of sunglasses planted firmly over his eyes. 

“I’m coming back,” he said and you heard the gravelly voice give way to a softer, gentler Jake. Then, “Do you remember the summer after high school when we went to that party at Bobby’s house, and the cops came so we had to hide in the shed until the morning?”

You laughed despite the tears. “I had a shovel pressed into me the entire time. Pretty sure there’s still a dent in my rib cage because of it.” 

“Do you remember what you said to me that night?” Jake asked. “You said that you were happiest when we were together. Didn’t matter where, didn’t matter when, didn’t matter if we were doing something or not. You said that you were happier being trapped in Bobby’s dad’s gardening shed that night with me than you would have been inside with a bunch of random people.” 

His voice cracked at the end. This was the side of Jake that he didn’t let people see. The Jake that held your hand at the doctor’s appointment as they ran gene tests to make sure you wouldn’t have to go through what your mother went through. The Jake that had let you hold him in your arms the night before while he prayed to a God you weren’t sure he still believed in to bring him home safe. It was Jake, not Hangman, who needed you to need him. 

“I still feel that way, Y/N,” he breathed into the phone and you tightened your fingers around the metal of the fence. “If you’ll have me.” 

You slid your hand past the metal bars and made the OK sign with your fingers. There was a chuckle on the other end of the phone. 

“Be safe,” you whispered. “For me.” 

“Always,” he said. “I gotta go, Bun, we’re loading up. I love you.” The line went dead before you were able to respond. 

***

That first night after work you drove to the Hard Deck, your fingers shaking. You weren’t sure why you went. This time you had the foresight to change out of scrubs and into regular clothes, but you chose the same bar stool as the one you had occupied the night Jake waltzed back into your life. 

“What’ll you have sweetpea?” The brunette bartender from last time smiled at you across the wooden bar. 

“Vodka martini,” you said quietly. “Dirty.” 

She nodded and started to turn around. And then, “Y/N, right? You were here a few weeks ago, with Hangman.”

You were shocked that she was able to remember you amid the crowds of rowdy patrons. She smiled, reading your mind. 

“We don’t get a lot of scrubs in here,” she laughed. “And Pete’s team is pretty small, I try to keep tabs on all of them.” You looked at her blankly, despondent, and she reached her hand out to cover yours. “I know what you’re thinking. They’re coming back safe. I made Pete promise me.”

“There’s no guarantee,” you whispered, looking up and catching her eye. “We have no idea what they’re facing right now. We have no idea if they’ll ever walk through that door again.” Penny watched your eyes shift toward the entrance. 

“You’re right, we don’t know,” she said softly. “But I know Pete, and I know Hangman. And the way he looked at you, I’ve never seen him look at someone like that before.” 

You shook your head, embarrassed that tears had started to split down your cheeks. Penny passed you a napkin and you lifted it to your face. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

She smiled sadly. “Once or twice. Trust me, it never gets any easier.”

“Do you know when they’re coming back?”

She frowned. “No. I probably know about as much as you do.”

“I literally don’t know anything,” you whispered. “We, uh, we’re not together. Before the other night, I hadn’t seen him in five years.” 

Penny tilted her head. “You’re allowed to miss him. Doesn’t matter what you two are. If he means something to you, you get to be nervous.” 

You bit your lower lip and Penny slid the drink over to you. “This might help,” she said, smiling. “Or not, but this is a bar after all.” 

The vodka went down smooth. Too smooth. You felt light even just after one drink, and as you slid your card over to Penny to close you out, she placed her hand on your forearm. “You OK to drive?”

You nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be fine.” Your signature was sloppy, it had been since medical school, and she squinted at it briefly. “Doctor’s scrawl,” you said and Penny chuckled. “Trust me, I’m fine.”

“Come back, OK?” she said as you pulled your purse off from the hook beneath the bar. “I don’t know when they’ll be back, but I promise this will be the first place Mav comes. We’re open every night.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks.” She lifted an arm in a wave. 

The apartment was cold when you got back. Less than twenty-four hours before it had been filled with candlelight and Jake’s voice and delicious food and now it was empty. Wandering into the kitchen, you expected to find it crusted with remnants of the prior night’s dinner, but to your surprise it was cleaner than when you two had arrived home the night before. 

Jake. Of course he had cleaned up. That was just like him. 

In the living room, you collapsed on the couch, memories of the night before flashing behind closed eyelids. Jake’s hands caressing your face, fingers digging into your hips, sliding under your shirt, pressed against your back to bring you closer to him. His lips trailing over your entire body, planting kisses in your hair, intertwining with yours. His whispers rumbling in your ear, telling you he was sorry, saying he loved you. And later, telling you how scared he was. Letting you in, showing a softer side you had never seen before. 

As you stood to take a shower, wash away the reminders of the day, something caught your eye. The table next to the couch which held a small lamp and a framed photo felt off. You stepped closer and realized it was because the photo frame was empty. Picking it up, you turned the frame over in your hands. It was the same photo that Jake had on his mantel, the two of you on the beach at Kiawah. Setting it down, you reached for Jake’s note that still sat crumpled on the coffee table from where you had tossed it earlier in your rush out the door. His scrawl took up most of the first page and ended with his signature, but you turned it over just in case and gasped. There was writing on the second side. 

P.S. — Hope you don’t mind, but I needed a new good luck charm. Can’t believe you still had the photo. That is how I will always remember you. Beautiful, golden, all mine. It’s always been you. 

Days went by. Patients came and were discharged. You ran more ECGs and code blues and emergency bypasses than you thought were possible. At the end of every shift you drove back to the Hard Deck, often closing out the night with Penny on the beach. Sometimes after night shifts, you drove out there and sat alone on a picnic table around back, watching the sun rise over the crisp horizon, imagining Jake. What terrors was he facing? What thoughts were running through his mind? 

Your fingers gripped the dog tags. They had quickly become your good luck charm, just as they were Jake’s. Since you had slipped them over your head that first morning you hadn’t lost a single patient. 

Despite everything that had happened, you still didn’t know how Jake Seresin fit into your life. You finally had answers for why he walked away all those years ago, but was it enough?

***

You were seven, playing in the grassy field behind the elementary school. A group of boys playing kickball nearby were watching as you and two friends hopped around in a made up game, everyone acting out different animals. 

“I’m a pig!” one of the girls yelled, down on all fours with her nose flared wide. The second girl was flapping her arms as wings, imitating a bat. You hopped in a circle with both legs pressed tightly together, your hands and wrists fused out in front of your body, palms facing down toward the ground. 

Laughing, you had your head turned before you felt a bump and were knocked to the ground. 

“I’m sorry!” When you opened your eyes, there he was. Sandy blond hair, green eyes, bright blue t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, holding out a hand. “Here, let me help you.” 

You took his hand, which was caked in dirt, and let him pull you to standing. 

He smiled at you, the red textured kickball that only seconds ago had decked you now tucked nearly under one arm. “I’m Jake.”

“Y/N.”

He nodded. “Sorry for knocking you over.” 

You shrugged. “It’s OK, I guess.” 

“What were you guys doing?” He looked out at the other girls, still in the throes of their game. But standing there with Jake, the lingering tingle of his fingers still on your hand, as well as some very real dirt, you suddenly felt embarrassed by the childish games the other girls were playing. 

“Animal kingdom,” you whispered quickly, blushing.

“What animal are you?”

“A rabbit.”

He smiled and even back then it was dazzling. The other boys hollered at him from the kickball field, but he didn’t seem to be in any rush. Jake shifted his weight between his feet. Another shout from beyond made you tilt your head back at him. 

“Think it’s your turn.”

Jake began to turn around and join his team, but stopped first to give you a grin. “See you later, Bunny.” 

Your cheeks flamed red. Even then he was handsome and a smart ass and kind. 

You fell a little in love with Jake Seresin that day. 

***

You were sitting at the bar, nursing another martini, when you watched Penny’s face transform. It was a Tuesday night, quiet all around. But you were getting tired of waiting. You had lost a patient on the table earlier, a grandmother of nine. It broke you.  

Witnessing her and Mav felt like a movie. You saw her smile so wide it threatened to overtake her, watched as she scurried around the bar, threw herself into his waiting arms. He was wearing a khaki uniform, his hands pressed tightly around Penny like he couldn’t believe she was real. 

You stood up, watching them with an open mouth, your face turned toward the door, waiting. 

After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart and Mav stepped toward you, one hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s OK,” Mav said and those two words cleaved you in half. You fell back into the chair, choking back a sob, and Penny rushed to your side, patting your hair. “A little banged up, but OK. Everyone made it.” 

With Mav and Penny flanking you on either side, you felt like their child and it made you momentarily long for the parents you had lost. You couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. 

“You did good,” Mav said. “Whatever you said to him after our conversation, he took it to heart. He was incredible out there.” 

You shook your head. “I said what you told me to say.” 

“What do you mean what he told you to say?” Your heart stopped. The three of you whipped around to see Jake, followed by the rest of the dagger squad, filtering in through the side door. He looked more handsome than ever, but his mouth was drawn into a tight line. Your line of vision immediately went to his arm, which hung in a sling from his shoulder. “Y/N? What did he mean?”

You stood on wobbly legs and Jake stepped forward, closing the gap between you two. You looked up at him, acutely aware the rest of the team had taken their place near the pool table within hearing distance. “What happened to your arm?” You ran your fingers across his sharp jawline and he pulled your hand away.  

He shook his head. “Answer the question, Y/N.”

“Jake, it’s nothing,” you whispered. “Mav just mentioned to me that day I came to see you at Top Gun that in order to do well on the mission, all you needed was to believe in the fact that everything would be OK when you got back. That you and I would be OK.”

You couldn’t read his expression. “Believe? So everything you said, it was just because Mav asked you to?” Then, softly, “Was it all a lie?”

“Baby, no!” You reached out to place your hands on his face, but he scooted back so he was just out of reach. “Jake, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

He shook his head. “I tried to get past it, but there was something in the back of my head that just didn’t feel right. It felt too easy. Like why would you all of the sudden forgive me? After five years. After everything. But this,” he pointed toward Mav and Penny who were glued in place at the bar, “this makes sense. He asked you to do it so I wouldn’t fuck up the mission. He made you get in my head” 

“You think I slept with you because someone asked me to?” Tears had started to form behind your eyes. “You know me better than that, Jake.” 

“I used to know you.” The harshness of his voice tore you apart. 

“You know me,” you insisted softly. 

Jake was seething. “You didn't once say you love me,” he whispered and you felt his anger bubbling at the surface, alongside something else. Regret. “I fucking worshipped you. And you never once said you loved me back that night.” 

Your voice was stuck in your throat. Thick, like biscuits and gravy. He was right. You hadn’t. You did love him, you always had. You just didn’t trust him. “Jake, let’s go outside, OK? I don’t want to do this here.” You placed your hand on his arm and he shrugged it off so hard you stumbled, Mav stepping forward to catch you. 

As you looked up at Jake behind glassy eyes, you saw him looking at you, really looking, for perhaps the first time. He was angry. It radiated off of him like steam clouds in a cartoon. He was heartbroken. You could see it in the way his mouth trembled, the way his fists squeezed together at his sides. But he was also sorry. You watched him watch you stumble, watched his pupils widen and his jaw tighten as he fought his urge to save you. 

Maybe he was done trying to be your savior. 

All you wanted to do was step forward, gather him in your arms, try to explain everything. It wasn’t that you didn't love him. And you hadn’t spent the night with him to appease Mav or to ensure the mission’s success. You had done it for Jake. For the Jake who had pushed you through high school and stayed up late with you to study for the MCAT during college breaks. The Jake who had stood by you when everything else was falling apart and had pieced you back together. Jake who had loved you wholly, until the day he left. 

He whipped around and stormed out. You started to rise to follow him and Penny whispered in your ear. “Let him cool off.” 

Rooster rose from his seat. “I got him,” he said gruffly, following fifteen steps behind. Phoenix and Bob gave you looks of sympathy before standing up and joining you at the bar along with Penny and Mav. 

You were embarrassed but you dissolved into tears, feeling Penny hugging you from behind, her arms wrapped around your shoulders. Someone nudged a glass of water across the bar toward you. 

“The kid did good,” Mav said finally, breaking the silence. “He saved our asses and almost died in the process.” 

You swallowed tightly. “What happened out there? If you can tell us.” 

The team launched into a full recount of the mission. You watched their faces light up as they interrupted each other, talked over one another, finished each other’s sentences. You drank the water that Bob inched toward you and gave him a small smile, which he returned with a blush. 

After a while, Rooster walked back in and all eyes turned to him. You stood. Waiting. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s really upset. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before.” Rooster took a step forward and placed his hand on your arm. “Give him time, OK? I sent him home. He’s not really in a place to talk right now, but he’ll come around.” 

You sighed. “I’m not so sure he will.” 

“Can I give you a ride home?”

You shook your head. “My car is here. I’m fine to drive.” 

“Let me walk you out then.” You nodded and pulled your purse out from under the bar. Penny hugged you and Mav gave you a pat on the shoulder. 

Phoenix closed in and wrapped her arms around you, whispering into your ear. “He loves you. He’s going to realize that’s what matters.” You smiled at her and she smiled back. 

Four weeks had changed everything. But one thing was the same: you and Jake were back to not talking. 

Rooster guided you out to your car. You clicked the button weakly, lighting up the headlights. “Déjà vu,” he said. You sniffled and reached for the handle, but Rooster’s hand shot out to cover yours. “Y/N. I gotta ask. Did you do it for the team like he thinks? Or do you love him?

“Because Hangman, for all his flaws, saved our asses out there. And he loves you. I’ve never seen him care this much about anyone, not even himself. So if you did it just to save us, that’s admirable and I can’t say I don’t appreciate it. But I have to ask you to walk away. Don’t drag it out with him if you’re not in it for the long haul. He’s a mess right now. He saw his life flash before his eyes and he thought there was someone he loved that he was fighting to go home to. Only to find out maybe she was never his to have.” 

Rooster looked at you, dropping his hand. You felt shaky and leaned up against the car door. Pulling the handle out, you slid into the driver’s seat, turning the key and rolling down the window. He put both hands on the open window frame and leaned in. “It’s always been Jake, for me,” you said quietly. “That was never a question. So no, I didn’t do it because Mav asked. I did it because I love him.”

Rooster breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled, standing up. “OK, good.”

“But I just don’t know if he and I have a future.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I needed him to be safe. I needed him to be OK. And I know he needed me to be here when he got back,” you exhaled. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive him for everything. If I can just go back to how things were, pretending like the last five years didn’t happen. I don’t know if we can rebuild things and act like we haven’t lived different lives. Like we didn’t plan different futures for ourselves. Like he didn’t make promises to other girls that are just like me. Like he didn’t walk out of my life once without a single care in the world.” 

You felt a stream of tears coming, and you gripped the gear shift tightly, yanking it back into reverse. 

“Goodbye, Bradley,” you said, throwing the car into drive, the headlights piercing the darkness ahead. 

In the rearview mirror, you saw him standing in the dust you had kicked up in your wake, hands on his hips, shaking his head. As the tears started to bloom in your eyes, he almost started to look like Jake. 

***

You gave him three days. You had left a smattering of voicemails and texts, all unanswered. Finally, you gave into the panic and dialed Bob. 

“Hello?” There was a small southern twang in there that made you smile, reminded you of Texas. But that only served to make you think of Jake, and immediately you felt a lump form in your throat. 

“Bob, hi. It’s Y/N.”

“Hey there,” he said. “Let me guess, you’re looking for Jake?”

“Yeah, I uh, I left messages and voicemails but he’s not answering. Have you seen him?”

Bob hesitated and you pressed him. 

“He told you guys not to talk to me.” 

“Something like that.” 

You sighed into the receiver. “Guess I deserve that.”

“I shouldn’t tell you this, but everyone’s going to the Hard Deck tonight for Phoenix’s birthday. He’ll be there.”

“I could kiss you Bob.”

He laughed. “Don’t make Bagman any angrier at me than he already will be.” 

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye, Y/N.” 

Your hands shook as you pulled into the gravel parking lot later that night. Smoothing out your blue sundress, the one you wore because you knew how Jake felt about sundresses, you adjusted the gift you held in one hand. It was nearing ten o’clock – you had tried to guess a time that would guarantee Jake would have shown up, but not so late that he would have already left. 

Inside, it was rowdy. Friday night in full swing, the entire bar packed to the brim with uniforms. A few heads turned as you entered alone. Immediately, you spotted the team in the back. They were wearing their khakis again, Phoenix laughing and blowing out candles over a white cake that Penny held in her arms. You made your way slowly through the throng of people before a hand reached out to grab your arm. 

“Hey sweetheart, can I get you a drink?” A brunette in uniform has his thick fingers wrapped around your upper arm and despite trying to shake them off you weren’t able to. “What’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone?”

You opened your mouth to tell him off before a hand came around your shoulders and the brunette stepped back. “Hands off the lady, Campbell. She’s with us.” Turning to your left you saw Rooster with his arm around you, once again wearing a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned too far. 

The guy held up his hands in apology. “My bad, Bradshaw. Didn’t know.” 

Rooster steered you away, toward the group in the back. Bob spotted you first, smiling behind his wire frames. Your eyes landed on Jake immediately. He had one arm propped up on Phoenix’s shoulder, grinning wide. You hesitated for a split second, not wanting to make a scene on Phoenix’s night, but Rooster scooted you along. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered in your ear. 

You almost tripped in your heeled sandals, stumbling forward and catching the group’s attention. Phoenix lit up when she saw you and rounded the corner of the table to give you a hug. 

“Happy Birthday,” you said softly, handing her the gift. “I wasn’t sure if it was a presents type of thing.” 

“With me it’s always a presents type of thing,” she said, looping her arm through yours and pulling you toward the group. “Come on, we were just cutting the cake. Doctors eat cake, right?”

“This doctor does,” you murmured and she laughed. Jake’s eyes were on you, his tension palpable in the already humid air of the bar. Penny slid a piece of cake over to you and you took a bite as Phoenix opened her gift, pulling out the trio of Le Labo candles and a bottle of champagne. 

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands around your neck. “I love it.”

You smiled and hugged her back, despite Jake’s hot glares on your skin. Bob appeared at your side holding out a beer and you took it, chatting with him for a moment. Across the table, Rooster had inched up behind Jake and was whispering in his ear. Out of the corner of your eye you watched as the pair, formerly enemies, spoke in hushed tones with muted body language. 

Finally, mid-conversation with Bob and Coyote, you felt a hand come around your waist. Looking up, you saw Jake standing behind you and to your left. “Can we talk?”

You nodded and Bob and Coyote shot you knowing glances. Jake offered his hand, and guided you out the back door and down the beach toward a picnic table. He sat on the top of the table, his boots planted on the bench seat and you followed suit. 

“How’d you know I’d be here?” he asked quietly. 

“Just a really good guess.”

“Oh yeah? You always just walk around with birthday presents for Phoenix?” he teased and you laughed. Jake’s face perked up at the sound. 

“Don’t be mad at them, OK? They were just trying to help us.”

He shook his head. “I know. They’re all meddlers anyway.”

You reached out and touched his hand that was splayed on the wooden table. “What happened to the sling?”

“It was just a dislocation. Doc said I could stop wearing it after a few days.”

Your lips formed a pinched line. “Mind if I take a look?” Jake shook his head and you pushed yourself off the table, standing between his legs. Gently, your fingers circled his shoulder, lifted his arm softly, pressed against the joint. “Does that hurt?”

He looked at you, a quiet frown on his handsome face. “Yeah, it hurts.” 

“I still think you should wear the sling,” you said, dropping your hands. “And ice it, twice a day. I don’t care whatever your doctor is saying, no heat. Got it?”

“It’s not the shoulder that hurts, Y/N.”

You gently rested your hands on his thighs. “Jake, I’m sorry. Things got really messed up the other night. But I need you to know that I do love you. And I didn’t try to trick you or whatever you’re thinking. I would never do that to you.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I know, I jumped to conclusions. But the idea that you let me back in that night just to make sure I would be able to fly, that hurt, Y/N. It really hurt.”

“I let you in because I missed you,” you said, pressing your fingers harder into his muscular legs. “Why would I have come here, to this bar, every single night for two weeks waiting for you to come home if I didn’t give a shit?”

Jake raised his head. “You did that?”

You nodded. “Jake, these last few weeks have been a daze. It’s like I was on autopilot. And then I would feel these,” you yanked at the chain around your neck, pulling the dog tags out of where they had been tucked inside your bra and you felt Jake suck in a breath, “and remember what I was fighting for. I was fighting for you. For us.” 

His hand slid into his front pocket, pulling out the folded up photo of the two of you that he had taken from your apartment. Jake unfolded it carefully. “I flew better in this mission than any other flight in my entire life,” he whispered. “And it’s not because I knew how important it was, or because I was just having a particularly good day. It was because of you. You’re the reason I needed to come home. You’ve always been the reason, Y/N. I just let myself forget it.” 

He tucked the photo back into his pocket and pressed one hand to each side of your face. 

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “I’m scared you’re going to leave me again. That I’m going to have to pick myself up in your wake. I don’t know if I can do it a second time.”

Jake paused. Then, “Do you love me? Not back then. Not when we were kids. Do you love me now?”

Lifting your gaze to Jake’s, you nodded. 

A thumb grazed your cheekbone. “I’m going to need to hear you say it, darlin’. I need to know this is real.” 

You pulled him to standing so the two of you were only inches apart. Jake slid an arm around your waist, and you wrapped your hands around his neck. “I love you, Jake. It’s you. It’s always been you. I just need you to promise that you’re not going to run away again.” 

A small yelp left your mouth as Jake bent down and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. Supported by one arm, he lifted a hand to brush the hair out of your eye and tuck it behind your ear. “I am never leaving you again, Bunny. Not if I have any say in the matter.” 

You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, felt Jake’s hands tighten where they held you up. Inside, you heard a round of cheering, Rooster taking his place at the piano. 

Jake pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours, smiling. “Guess you're finally going to marry me now? Just like we talked about when we were kids.” 

Your hands raked through his hair, green eyes glued to yours. “Lieutenant and Doctor Seresin. That sounds pretty good to me.” 

“Bunny girl, anything with you sounds good to me.” 

Four years later 

“Don’t let him eat so much ice cream, he’s going to get sick!” 

Jake chuckled and pulled your back against him, letting you sink your weight into him as he rubbed circles on your expanding stomach. “It’s his birthday, just let him be Bunny.”

You sighed and turned around, pressing your fingers to his cheeks. “God, you are an absolute pushover, did you know that?”

He laughed again and grabbed your hands, pressing kisses to the inside of both wrists. “Only because we make really cute kids.” 

“Yeah, this one better be cute, I’m sick of getting kicked in the kidney,” you muttered. 

Across the yard, you spotted your son sitting on Rooster’s shoulders, playing with a toy airplane. 

“I wonder who he got that from.”

“That would be me.” You both turned to see Bob, Phoenix and Fanboy approaching. They hugged you and Jake, and Phoenix’s eyes widened at your growing stomach. “What else are godmothers good for?” she asked, pressing one hand to your stomach. “Still no update on this one?”

Jake shook his head. “We’re stuck on girl names.”

“Girls are tricky,” you said, sitting down on a foldout chair, Jake coming to stand behind you, his large hands massaging your shoulders gently. 

“C’mmon, you’re not going to name her Bradley, too?” Rooster appeared out of nowhere, your son giggling in his arms. You started to reach out for him, but he lept into Bob’s arms instead and the group laughed as the two-year-old began to climb the WSO like a tree. 

“One Bradley in this family is enough,” Jake huffed and you squeezed his fingers. 

“It’s not even his first name!” Rooster exclaimed, cracking open a beer. “Just his middle name.”

“It’s been two years, man, let it go,” Phoenix laughed. “They named him after her dad, can’t really compete with that.” 

Rooster nodded slowly. “Yeah, well, I’m still rooting for Bradley for the next one.”

“It’s a girl!” you chuckled, running a hand over your belly. 

“We still have three months to decide.” Jake planted a kiss on your temple and crossed over to take his son out of Bob’s arms. He lifted the little boy into the air and you watched as he laughed. 

“Where’s my godson?” Everyone’s eyes turned to the edge of the fence where Mav and Penny were entering, their hands full of gifts. You sighed and watched your son light up. 

“Mav!” he yelled, his tiny voice barely able to reach across the yard. 

Maverick put the gifts down, crouching and holding open his arms. Jake set your son onto the ground and everyone watched as the toddler ran toward Mav, who scooped him up in a big hug. 

“Hey there Hangbaby,” he said and you stifled back a laugh. The baby callsign never got old. 

The song changed and everyone was on their feet. Jake held out a hand and pulled you up, one hand coming to rest on your back and the other on your stomach. You watched as Jake’s teammates who had quickly become family started to dance in the backyard. Your son sat in Mav’s arms as he bounced from foot to foot to the music. 

Jake leaned down and pressed his mouth close to your ear. “I love you, Bunny.” 

You smiled and leaned your head back against Jake as he shifted to cradle you from behind, swaying to the song. 

All those years ago you thought you were saving him. You never once thought that he might be the one to save you. 

THE END

A/N: Thank you everyone for your love on this series! I absolutely lied when I said part 3 would be short. On the hunt for my next TGM fic so if you have any requests please drop them in the comments! 

Tag list: @notanordinaryprincess95 @coleishere @shanimallina87 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @fangirling-4-ever @lgg5989  @smoothdogsgirl @kkrenae @wishfulwithwine @pariahsparadise @madslake06 @alana4610 @abaker74 @muushwrites @another-tblr-fangirl @avoirlecoupdefoudre @mrsharringtonmunson @greenteaandsagetea @thegirlnextdoorssister @n3ssm0nique @lover-of-nights @multiplefandommess

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 4 - Deepthroat

More CoD! I really want to touch on some of the operators that don't get a lot of love so this piece involves Velikan. :) Enjoy!~

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You’d been under Velikan’s command from the moment he took command of Building 21. You weren’t the freshest recruit amongst the Shadows, but you were new to him, which meant a near constant presence. Enough time had you worming your way closer to him, despite the terrifying facade he put on amongst the others in your company.

It started with you seeing the tells beneath that tinted visor. The things that irked him, the shifts in his body language and facial structure that you knew differed from his usual stern visage. So you worked around him, did what you could to make his job easier. It was small, but the little differences in how he treated you from the rest of the Shadows didn’t go unnoticed. To neither you, nor the rest of your company.

“What makes you so special huh?” The aggressive tone shook you as you turned, mess hall food in hand. The tray was quickly knocked away as you were backed into a corner, confused beyond belief. “Why’s the commander going so damn easy on you, huh newbie?!”

Now thankfully, compared to most of your company, you didn’t exactly reach the average height. It was easier than one would think for you to stoop down and make your escape from their harsh words and what would probably turn into violent behavior. You ran as quickly as your legs would take you into a random room. You didn’t even look at which it was, back against the polished wood as you tried to slow your racing heart.

A low huff caught your ears as you actually looked up and forward. Velikan was at his desk, filing paperwork, his least favorite task as you’d come to know. “C-Commander!” Your body shot up into attention, saluting him. You heard him sigh and roll his neck, a clear sign of you being told “at ease”.

You let your body relax and approached his desk. “Sorry for bothering you Velikan,” you said softly. “Seems the rest of the Shadows don’t exactly like me being your ‘favorite’. Whatever they’re on about, I promise I won’t let it end up here.” You huffed a tiny laugh and knocked on the desk for added humor.

Velikan’s hand never stopped writing, easily switching between Russian and English where necessary. You knew very little outside of your commander’s Russian-American heritage, but this was your first time witnessing his fluency. You yourself happened to share the same talent for languages, hence speaking up again.

“Need help with those at all Commander?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Or at least a break? Your hand’s gonna cramp up if you keep on with all these reports.”

Velikan stopped, tilting his masked head to eye you from his peripheral. He was testing you, trying to see if you were bluffing. Eventually, the man sighed heavily and dropped his pen, sitting back in his office chair. He rolled in back a bit and tapped the ground in front of him with his boot.

Your eyes widened a bit, but you couldn’t say you weren’t surprised. The two of you had crossed paths in the locker room before, you know what the scars upon scar laid across those beautiful muscles looked like, even from just a fleeting memory. And Velikan wasn’t an idiot; he saw you stare. He knew.

You obliged, against your better judgment. If Graves heard even a whisper about this, you both would be in for it. But if Velikan was anything, it was quiet; you trusted you’d be fine in his care. You watched with rapt attention as thick, gloved fingers undid your commander’s utility belt and undid the zipper on his tactical pants with a practiced swiftness.

You took over from there, palming him through his briefs. You watched his masked head loll back, already enjoying the attention as was evident by the already growing bulge beneath the fabric. You gently took his member from it’s confines, pupils dilating a bit. You weren’t exactly shocked by Velikan’s size, but it was something different seeing it up close.

Without hesitation, you licked a stripe up the shaft, humming softly at the slightly salty taste of his skin. You could hear your commander’s pleased hum, although it sounded far more like a growl that sent excitement straight between your legs. You rolled your tongue around the head, slipping it between your lips as you felt that same gloved hand come to rest on your head.

You let your jaw slacken, a nonverbal sign for him to do as he pleased with your throat. You didn’t miss the muffled, almost sadistic chuckle that came from Velikan as you felt your throat fill with his member. You nearly choked at first, but a few deep breaths through your nose had you humming in pleasure as the tip touched the back of your throat.

Velikan growled in pleasure again, hand threading through your hair. You feel him tug you off, gently at first, before thrusting up abruptly, his cock ramming the back of your throat. You purr softly, pleased with simply being stress relief for your commander that you’d grown so fond of. The pace starts slow, almost gentle before the man ramps up the speed.

It’s a lovely back and forth for a while. Velikan uses your mouth, and you try not to laugh at the way the visor of his mask fogs up from his heavy panting. You tried to slip your hand down your pants to touch yourself, but your hand is nudged away.

The rough leather of Velikan’s boot is pressed against the underside of your sex in just the right way to offer some kind of friction to you. You moan in relief and start to rock your hips against him eagerly. Time slowed down, and the both of you were lost in a haze of pleasure.

It was only when the hand in your hair tightened did you know to prepare. Your commander shot down your throat with a long growl, hips twitching as he seed spilled down your throat. Your own hips never stilled until you caught the briefest taste of him against the tip of your tongue. 

You cried out around his member, which he removed gently so as not to make you choke. The man couldn’t help but stare in slight awe of you now. Drool and cum mixing as they spilled down your chin, eyes blown wide with pleasure as you whimpered and whined out your orgasm. 

You sank down a bit as your body relaxed, feeling as though all the wind had been ripped from your chest. You didn’t fight back when Velikan lifted you off the ground from between his legs, and sat you on his lap. When had he zipped himself up and put away his cock? You didn’t know. All you knew was the calming sighs that you could make out from beneath his mask.

All in all, deep throating your commander wasn’t the worst way to end your day.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Like Real People Do

Photo creds to Pintrest (@katiasbff)

AN: I literally cannot get Wanda out of my head, and I recently saw a tik tok pointing out that Vision had to leave Wanda alone for extended periods of time. Which in turn got me thinking about what she did with her alone time...So here you go :)

Summary: Wanda gets lonely when Vision has to leave her in Scotland, so she tries to find some solace in a dreary cafe.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: mostly fluff and a little bit of angst obvi

It was a dreary day in Scotland, as most days tended to be. Wanda had hated the gloomy spring weather, the stubborn moisture that seemed to hang in the air. She couldn’t open the small bed & breakfast window due to the dampness, which only made her bedroom stuffier. She had only been at the B&B for three days without Vision, but it felt so much longer. Wanda felt like a ghost, roaming through the streets aimlessly, only to return back to her small room to pace there. If she sat alone with her thoughts for too long, all she could think about was the mess her life was.

It was suffocating, the weight of reality was hitting her hard in her solitude. Wanda wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear. She’d had enough, tired of her own company, she set out for her morning stroll with no particular destination. Wanda allowed her feet to carry her down familiar streets as she tried to focus on the present instead of painful memories. The sun was only just rising by the time she found herself in unfamiliar territory. The buildings around her were an odd collage of businesses and restaurants. A small cafe caught her eye amongst the squat buildings.

It was dimly lit, with dark green paint coating the walls, making the space gloomier. Music played softly in the background, and the seating was mismatched tables and chairs with a few booths tucked away in the back. Lamps were situated in a few corners, serving as lighting as opposed to ceiling lights. The barista was preoccupied, scrolling through her phone, her acrylic nails clicking against the screen. Wanda nearly turned heel and left, craving something warmer, more inviting. But before she could her eyes landed on you, sitting in the far corner, just below an eccentric lamp. Her head cocked to the side as she took you in. You were the lone patron in the cafe, tucked way into the back sporting a pair of reading glasses that reflected the warm glow of the lamp above you. A steaming mug sat in front of you as you squinted at a slew of papers and scribbled on them with a pen. 

Her pause was long enough for the barista to clear her throat expectantly. Wanda jolted in surprise, the vocalization only just loud enough to be heard over the soft music. The woman behind the counter raised a slitted brow, popping her gum with a loud snap. Wanda shot you one last glance before slowly stepping up to the counter. 

“I’ll have a lavender latte with almond milk please.” She reached into her pocket and produced a small leather wallet and retrieved some cash to pay. The barista didn’t bother to hide her disgust when she heard Wanda’s voice, it was something she had gotten used to by now. She wasn’t very good at masking her Sokovian accent, even worse at hiding the slight American accent she had adopted since joining the Avengers. 

“Americans,” The grungy college student grumbled as she accepted the cash, closing the register a bit aggressively. Wanda stepped back but kept a watchful eye on the barista as she prepared her drink, fearful that she would spit in her latte if she turned her back. However, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over to you occasionally, she felt this gnawing curiosity as she stared at you. 

“Here, go sit with your fellow scum bag.” The girl slid Wanda’s drink down the counter and Wanda snagged it. Her brows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what the barista meant and how she wanted to deal with the blatant disrespect. 

“Excuse me?” She asked, mounting frustration beginning to cloud her mind. The barista nodded at you in the back, brushing her dyed hair out of her face. 

“That one back there if a fellow American, I figure you’d feel more at home.” The barista’s voice was coated with sarcasm but Wanda still felt some relief. That was until your eyes lifted from your papers to shoot a glare at the barista. 

“Cut it out Gwen” You barely rose your voice, clearly you frequented this place. Wanda went rigid as your eyes found her, even from this distance she saw the not-so-subtle up and down you gave her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, the slowness felt intimidating but your body language was anything but. You seemed loose and almost inviting, but maybe that was Wanda’s loneliness shining through. 

“Go on, she doesn’t bite.” Gwen shooed Wanda towards the back, towards you. She felt torn now, on one hand, you seemed expectant, watching her keenly. On the other hand, she desperately didn’t want to bother you, and she wasn’t sure she could carry on a conversation. 

“Gwen, leave her alone for the love of God.” You sounded exasperated, dropping your pen you gave Gwen a scathing look, gesturing for Wanda to come over. Panic set in as Wanda forced her feet to carry her towards you, throwing one last look at the door before she stood in front of your booth. You had gathered most of your papers, tucking them off to the side. Wanda hesitated before sitting down and you smiled at her warmly, taking off your glasses and placing them on the table softly. 

“Gwen is right about one thing, I don’t bite.” You laughed and it seemed to warm the room by ten degrees. Wanda shifted, wrapping her hands around her mug and smiling into the frothy coffee. 

“Lucky me,” Wanda said in return, her eyes fluttering from the boring rim of her mug to your face. Your lips curved into a broad smile, showing off pearly white teeth. 

“Yes, well maybe lucky me! It’s been a while since I’ve had company.” You were still smiling as you leaned forwards eagerly, but Wanda noticed a slight cringe cross your features. 

“That sounded sad.” You laughed and Wanda laughed with you, her chest constricting with an odd tightness. 

“No, I totally relate.” Wanda smoothed her hands over her jeans, her trimmed nails scratching at the denim. 

“So, what are you in Scotland for?” You asked, eagerly and Wanda felt her stomach sink. 

“Work.” She said vaguely, sipping her latte so she wouldn’t have to add anything, despite it still being too hot. 

“Ah me too, I’m a teacher. Hence all the papers…” You waved your wrist at the papers stacked haphazardly, some of them nearly slipping off the table as you did so. You scrambled to catch them, tucking them back into the pile. 

“Oh, a teacher that’s wonderful!” Wanda gushed honestly, and you sighed with a roll of your eyes. 

“It can be, but it’s also hell.” You sighed and Wanda nodded in understanding, but she felt something else stirring inside her. A feeling that she certainly hadn’t expected when she stepped into this conversation. 

Jealousy. 

“I’m sure.” Wanda managed to spit the words out past the rim of her mug. She wasn’t sure how well she hid her slight malice. But in true American fashion, you brushed it off if you had noticed and carried on. 

“And what do you do?” You asked as you slowly put your glasses back on, waiting patiently for Wanda to swallow her drink. Wanda cleared her throat, trying to buy herself some time to no avail. 

“Uh, I….am a journalist.” Wanda patted herself on the back for the quick thinking, feeling a small spark of joy as you sighed. 

“I envy you.” You pointed at Wanda playfully and she laughed as you shook your stack of papers. 

“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” Wanda fought off the last few giggles to get her words out. You smiled and shook your head softly muttering something under your breath. 

“Do you mind if I do some work while we talk?” You asked, and Wanda shook her head. 

“No, of course not, I interrupted you! I can always go.” Wanda nearly jumped out of the booth but you yelped. 

“Oh no, you can stay if you want!” You grabbed your pen and began flipping through your messy pile. Wanda settled back into her seat, trying to maintain her composure. 

“Ok, I won’t leave you then.” She meant it to sound light, but it came out all too sincere. Again, Wanda blamed her inner conscious, regurgitating exactly what she wanted to hear from someone. You looked up from your work, your eyes shined behind your glasses, and a shocked look plastered to your face. 

“Well, if you insist.” You cleared your throat, quickly diving into your work. Your flustered state didn’t escape Wanda, who bit her lip as she pretended to busy herself on her phone. The comforting sound of your pen scratching the paper filled the silence between the two of you. Wanda tried not to stare as you graded your papers, but it was difficult not to. You worked so effortlessly, ticking off one question after the next. Your glasses would slide down your nose and you would diligently push them back into place. Your hair was slipping from the clip that was holding it off your face, and for some reason, the ghastly lamplight made you look so….golden. 

Wanda sat with you in silence for quite some time. You seemed perfectly content with her boring company as you hummed quietly to yourself or grumbled in frustration at the work on the page. Very few patrons dared to come into the cafe, leaving Gwen free to text. Not to say that she wouldn’t touch her phone while taking an order. It was the domesticity that Wanda had been craving, no yearning for. So little was said, and nothing needed to be said. The three of you simply existed, blissfully unaware of whose company you were currently in. 

While this entire interaction was unexpected and pleasant, Wanda still found that jealousy and sadness mixed in her chest. It was a rather unsavory cocktail of emotions and she wished that she could be as carefree as you seemed to be. It had been a full hour before you finished, sighing as you pushed the papers back into a folder, which you shoved into your bag. 

“Good God, I need a drink.” You groaned, stretching your legs and arms while still sitting. Wanda laughed, looking towards Gwen who smirked back. 

“Hey, at least one of us was productive today,” Wanda mumbled as you collected your things, dreading the moment you stood up to leave. You groaned and stood slowly, and Wanda reluctantly did the same. 

“Much to my displeasure.” You quipped as you adjusted your bag on your shoulders. 

“And mine too, I hope that we’ll run into one another again,” Wanda said, once again trying to put a joking tone into her voice, only to come out more serious than intended. You smiled back at her and dug your phone out of your pocket, a grin stuck to your lips as you produced a blank contact page.

"Well thank god for technology then. Here put your information in and we can grab coffee whenever you'd like!" Wanda felt her heart clench in her chest as you passed the phone to her.

She took it with clammy hands, knowing full well that she couldn’t give you her real phone number, that she couldn’t rope you into her messy lifestyle. So she made up a phone number, and she put a small smiley face next to her name. Wanda handed your phone back to you as a rock sank into the pit of her stomach. You beamed at her and pointed at her name on your screen. 

“Wanda.” Her name rolled off of your tongue and Wanda nearly leaped out of her skin. It came as a sudden realization, that was the first time you had said her name. 

“Nearly two whole bloody hours spent together and not once did you idiots exchange names!” Gwen was leaning on the countertop, smacking her palm against it as she howled with laughter. You smiled sheepishly at Wanda, who could feel the redness creeping up her neck and tainting her cheeks. 

“Oh my god.” She buried her face in her hands and groaned as you threw your head back and joined Gwen, bubbly laughter bouncing off the walls. 

“I am so rude! I cannot believe-” 

“It’s fine! I noticed way too late, it would’ve been…awkward to ask once I realized.” You said through a fit of giggles. Wanda groaned and shook her head as she raked a hand through her hair.

"W-What is your name?" Wanda asked as she used both of her hands to pull her hair back off of her heated cheeks. You laughed like the good sport you were.

"It's (Y/n)." You told her and shared a look with Gwen who sighed in contentment and disappeared into a back room, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Anyway, I’ll see you around…Wanda.” You winked at her as you slipped past, giving a gentle squeeze of her arm as you passed. Wanda stood dumbstruck as you left, the soft bell on the door announcing your exit. You waved at her one last time as you passed the front windows and Wanda felt that guilt stir inside of her. She swallowed thickly in an attempt to gather herself before she stepped back into the real world. Before she left the comfort of the dreary cafe in Scotland, and before she tried to wipe the memory of you from her head before you could take up permanent residence there.