#and why when he realises he'll never know the answer he breaks down in “Letting Go”

[alikesical]

one-sided academic rival! Dick Grayson × reader

Being in university was hard enough as it is. Now imagine that plus an annoying trust fund baby making it his life's mission to annoy the hell out of you.

trigger warnings: kissing, reader in deep denial, reader gets attacked, dick gets injured

word count: circa 8K

part 1 part 2

Going to university was a privilege you never thought you'd have.

Although now it feels more like a curse.

"What do you want?" you ask the man sitting in front of you, swirling a pen around his fingers without a care in the world. It's not like you had a midterm in a few days.

Only you did, and he was distracting you, "Your attention would suffice for now" he says, honey coating his words.

You exhale as you raise your head, squinting at the bright light behind him, "Can't you see I'm busy?" you ask, rolling your eyes.

But Dick Grayson ignores your blatant annoyance towards him, as he did every other time.

"Oh, come on," he smiles, sitting across from you, "You've been locked in here, for like what, a year?" he exaggerates, leaning towards the table, "You can take a break."

"Breaks are for those who are done studying." That's not true. You know that, he knows that. But he's just here to annoy you, so you don't care what's true or not, if you continue working he'll get bored and leave.

"It's doesn't have to be long, just a minute." he presses, now full-on laying on the table. Has he no shame?

Stupid question. Of course not, people like Dick Grayson don't know how to feel shame. Either because they are perfect at everything, always, or because they are trust fund babies, who never had anyone tell them to stop behaving like children.

"No." you repeat, voice flat.

Dick continues staring at you, a smirk plastered on his face as always. No wasn't gonna cut it. "This actually reminds me of the time, my brother, Jason-"

You exhale loudly as he starts telling you yet another story. After this many interactions with Bruce Wayne's ward, you know he won't stop talking until you give in.

You always considered yourself stubborn, and in all truth, you were. You never backed away until you got what you wanted. That's one of the reasons you are here in the first place.

Unfortunately, you had met you equal in these very halls, and you knew better than to hold your ground on a losing battle.

"Okay, stop. What do you want?" you give in, putting your pen down, turning to look at him, your arms crossed in front of you.

"You."

You're taken back by his words, a slight heat creeping up your neck, "Excuse me?"

Only then does he realise what he said, "Not like that!" Dick waves his hands around, feeling the heat on his cheeks increase tenfold, praying you dont notice how flustered he got, "I wanna be partners for the next assignment." he says, willing himself to calm down, a smile finding its way home on his lips.

"No way." your answer is immediate, and his smile falls in an instant.

"What?"

"Have you hit your head on a pole, Grayson?" you snort, revelling in the fact you had the upper hand even for a while, "I said no."

"But why?"

"Because." I won't be able to live with myself if you actually end up being a good student and not just lucky.

"But it's gonna-"

"No."

"Fine" he says "What about a bet then?"

"A bet?"

"Yeah, if I score higher than you on the next test, you become my partner-"

"No, I know when I'm set up for failure"

"Let me finish," "If you get a higher grade, I won't speak to you ever again."

"...Never again?" you raise an eyebrow, "You're capable of holding your tongue for that long? I'm surprised."

Wrong answer.

"Wanna see the other things my tongue can do?" he says smirking at you, tingling his eyebrows.

The heat that creeps up once again is very distinguishable.

This wasn't an issue of you having a crush - which you were not - but an issue of having eyes.

You'd be a liar to deny that Dick Grayson was a very attractive man.

"Youre disgusting." you shoot, face grimacing, you force your eyes back on your notebook.

You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin. Not today, not ever.

"I know it keeps me up at night." he leans back, "So what do you say?"

"To you showing me your skills?" you mutter flatly, a small smile still appearing on your lips, missing how this time around, he was the one feeling the familiar heat, "In your dreams, Grayson."

"Then I'll keep dreaming."

You can't believe this. This isn't real. It's not true.

"See, this sweetheart?" Dick shoves the paper in your face, "98%" he grins at your flabbergasted expression, "I win!"

"H-How..." you studied so much for this. How could he beat you yet again. You exhale in defeat.

You have a bet, you'll upkeep it. You're not sore loser.

"Fine." Dick grins, "We can do it over at my place." you offer.

He smiles at you, "Okay, let's go!" he grips the strap of his backpack entusiasticly, making you roll your eyes.

This isn't happening.

A bus ride later, you're back in your house, Dick Grayson in tow.

"Do you want water? Tea?" you ask, hearing him close the door as you head into the kitchen.

"Tea." he says, and you feel him moving around, snooping no doubt.

"Sugar?"

"Don't need any", you hear him say in the distance as you add three teaspoons in your cup -you know its not the healthiest habit but you can't help but indulge in your sweet tooth- "You're sweet enough." you hear him much closer to you this time.

You turn around, wanting to retort to his flirty comment, chastise him about you'd have none of it during the duration of your project. But you're left speechless, gasping lowly at the distance between you two. Dick was standing extremely close to you, to the point you could feel the heat radiating from his body - or maybe it was your own rising up rapidly at the proximity. You look in his eyes, glinting with mischief and something else you couldn't quite place.

"What?" he smirks, trapping you between himself and the counter, "Cat, got your tongue?" he whispers in your ear. You can only gulp at his words, feeling your skin prickle as he moves closer to your neck.

"Oh, shut up." you say and push him away lightly, feeling the difference in temperature immediately. "We have a project to do." you grab one of his arms and try to go to the living room. Away from him, away from whatever he had in mind.

"Not so quickly," he grabs your wrist with a quick motion, pulling you back at him. You feel yourself falling, yelping as you place your free hand on his chest trying to support yourself.

"Dick," you mutter, raising your head to look into his eyes, "Let go." you say, your voice steady, but heart thrumming inside your chest.

"You really want that?" he asks, raising your hand towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist, all the while staring into your eyes. Were they always this blue?

"Your pulse is rising," he presses on your wrist as he lowers your hand, pressing it on his chest, covering it with his own, "Your pupils are blown..." he leans down.

You exhale shakily. You're staring, you know. But how can you not when he looks ethereal under this light. Like a dream come true.

"Stop me." he says, a breath away from you, leaning in slowly, steadily.

You don't make a noise. You don't move a single muscle, afraid to break the moment. You just stare in the sea of his eyes, willingly getting lost in them.

Next thing you know, you feel a pair of lips on yours.

He's kissing you. Dick Grayson is kissing you.

It is soft and tentative, as if he's scared you'll pull away. But you dont, not when it feels this right. This good.

You move against his lips, kissing him back in the same manner, and he immediately brings his free hand to your jaw, the other still holding your hand against his chest, as he leans in, deepening the kiss.

You feel so many things at once, slowly getting overstimulated. From Dicks lips rhythmically moving against your own, to his heart beating widely under your hand.

This feels like heaven. He feels like heaven.

"Dick," you exhale, and he pulls away just enough to let you breathe, forehead resting against your own.

You simply stare at him, before pulling your hands away from him, seeing his smile falter if only for the minute it takes you to throw them around his neck, whispering don't stop as you dive into his lips again, with more fervour than before.

You can feel him smile in the kiss, moving his hands to the small of your back, slowly reaching downwards -

You suddenly shoot up drenched in cold sweat, the room feeling hotter than usual. You're lying in your bed, looking at the ceiling above you, the room filled with the commotion caused by the traffic. You're alone...

"What the fuck."

"Hey!" you see a hand waving in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You jump a bit, taken aback, "Rough night?" you look up and see the last person you wished to. The same person you were thinking about, despite your best efforts not to.

You turn red at his words, the dream still fresh in you head "Wh-What? No, no. Why would you say that?" you chuckle nervously, tearing your eyes away from him, "It was a totally normal night and I am fine!"

"Fine people don't get this jumpy when people talk to them." he chuckles lightly.

"Maybe I'm having an allergic reaction to you" you glare at him, trying to get yourself to calm down. "What is it you want anyway?"

"You still haven't given me an answer," he says, and you can see his mouth moving but can't hear a thing.

"You really want that?" he asks, raising your hand towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist, all the while staring into your eyes. Were they always this blue?

You shake your head lowering you head. God damnit, why did he have to be here.

"Are you listening to me?"

"H-Huh? What?" why did you stutter? He's gonna realise. He's gonna realise and you'll be fucked.

"The bet," you can feel your cheeks flush at the sound of his voice. What is wrong with you?

"No." you answer quickly, wanting, needing him to go away.

"Why?" he presses.

"Cause I don't feel like it." you reply and get up. If he wasn't going to leave, you would.

But luck wasn't by your side, "Okay, if you don't wanna have a bet, just partner up with me!" he scrambled, following behind you. "I know you wanna do well, and I can help with that!" he exclaims, you shake your head trying to drown out the sound of his voice, "Plus I'm great company! I've been told I'm very charming-" you stop in your tracks and turn around annoyed, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

He wasn't as quick though, and ended up body slamming on you. You yelp as you feel yourself getting off balance, you close your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit any moment now.

But it never came.

Instead you feel a warm hand around your wrist. You open your eyes seeing Dick Grayson looking down at you.

Your breath is caught in your throat, getting dizzy.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and you feel your whole body burning up at the proximity. He's so close, too close.

"Okay, lets have that bet, whatever!" you end up exclaiming, pulling away from him, it was like if you'd stayed in his presence any longer, he would have burned you alive. And with that, you storm away, leaving him behind with a confused smile on his face.

He didn't know what was going on with you, but you agreed.

A win is a win, and he'd take it.

You wanted to say that falling asleep in the library wasn't a common occurrence.

And a few weeks ago you'd say that this is lie and you're not a liar.

But nowadays, lies are all you tell.

So, no falling asleep in the library, drool coating your chin wasn't common.

The same way your dream about Dick Grayson did not make you feel a certain way.

You shake your head as you tighten your coat around you. Gotham winters are brutal. The temperature was below freezing at this point, and the city was one rainstorm away from being coated in white, like a very depressed, very drunk bride to be.

God, you couldn't wait to get out of this hell hole. Go someplace warmer, safer, and welcoming. Metropolis sounds like a good choice. Maybe even leave the country? But then you'd had to learn a whole new language, and at this point, the only thing you can store in your brain is information for next weeks test. Maybe in the summer?

You could learn French, maybe Greek? What if you just went for it and learned Chinese? That could be fun.

You speed up, pulling your head out of your own daydreams, trying to get to the bus stop as quickly as you can.

Living this far away from the city centre is annoying for sure, but apartments aren't cheap anywhere, much less a nice apartment with no holes in the walls and no leaking ceilings, in a good neighborhood, close to the university. But that wasn't your apartment, and that wasn't your neighbourhood. So you speed walk towards the bus hoping the last bus of the day hasn't gone by while you slept.

You check the display on the bus stop. A quarter past one, fifteen minutes till the bus arrived. You exhale in relief at this, you'll be home soon enough, safe under the warm covers of your bed.

You sit on the bench, close your eyes, and let the cold air caress your face. This was a good time to do your mental journaling. This way, you can just head to bed without disrupting your carefully constructed routine.

And this was a good day all in all.

Your coffee was less watered down than usual. You arrived in class just in time. Dick Grayson looking like an angel- No. No Dick Grayson. No dream. That didn't happen.

Okay, let's start from the top. Your coffee was less watered down than usual. You arrived in class just in time. You got your American History test score back, which meant you wouldn't have to pair up with Grayson. They had pasta in the cafeteria. Dick Grayson smiling down at you with his perfect smile, his skin shining -

You open your eyes, exhaling in annoyance. "Jesus Christ..." you matter as you start pacing.

Ten minutes to go.

This didn't make any sense. You don't like the guy, not even as a friend, much less in any romantic or sexual way. All he does is annoy you, pulling your focus away from what is important. So why? Why the hell the only thing you can think of is that stupid dream you had, which by the way was nothing more than your brain using what he said to you, to conjure up these absurd images. If anything, this was his fault. Again.

It wasn't like- you stop at your tracks. There are footsteps closing in.

You turn forward and see a man approaching you. Shit. He was older than you and bigger.

Maybe he's just there for the bus. There's no reason you freak out, you think, but you still hold your bag tighter, just in case you needed to run or hit him or both at the same time.

"How long?" you hear him say, his voice low and gruff, slurring. God, you could smell the alcohol on his breath from here.

"Wh-What?" you stutter turning your head to look at him.

"Can't you hear? How long is the bus?" he yelled pulling his hands out of his pockets.

You felt nauseous in his presence, "O-Oh, it's gonna be here in," you check your phone, "seven minutes." he only grunts in response, you turn forward, hoping he'll stop asking questions.

But in no universe, you'd ever get what you want, "Tis very late for a young thing like you to be out in the cold," you only hum in response, "What are you? 21? 22?" you don't amswer.

He takes a step towards you, you shuffle to the side, "Don't be like that sweetheart-"

"Please stop!" you yell, shoulders jumping up ready for impact.

You feel the man stiffen next to you. And then, he starts laughing, "Oh, come on, I didn't even do anything!" he threw his hands up, the smell of alcohol getting stronger. Beer, you could now tell.

"All you women are like that! You just assume all men are pricks!" you feel his spit landing on your cheek and immediately fight the urge to recoil in disgust.

You slowly raise your trembling hand to wipe your cheek, not daring to look at the man. Too scared to. Of how close he is. Of what he could do to you. Of how even when you screamed for help, no one would come.

What is another is another grave in Gotham, but a number on a very long list.

Your actions seemed to have aggravated the man further as he began to shake in anger, "YOU FUCKING BITCH," you jump at the volume, grip tightening more, "I was," he forcibly lowered his voice, "just being nice to you! But you had to make me-"

"DONT TOUCH ME!" you scream the moment the man grabbed your arm, "LET GO OF ME!" you start pulling your arm to yourself, but his grip only tightens. Tears sting your eyes.

"LISTEN HERE YOU BITCH-" you close your eyes tightly, waiting for his next move.

This is it. This is where you die. Good God, you are going to die without having done anything with your life. You should have taken that gap year. You should have travelled more. Maybe find someone to marry and live a happy quiet life.

But no, now you'll be just a mention on tomorrows news. Maybe someone will shed a tear or two, but that's all. You'll be forgotten the moment the next big crime strikes Gotham, and this son of a bitch is gonna roam fr-

"I thought she asked you to let go?" you hear another voice with no one to belong to. You open your eyes quickly, trying to see who spoke. But no one seemed to be around.

"What?" the man lets go and turns around, slightly stumbling, "Who said that?" he asks, and you see a head appear from above you.

You hand shoots to your heart when you lock eyes with the owner of the voice, as he grins at you, holding a finger to his lips.

"I'm your conscience," he says, disappearing again as the man turns around and you're face to face with him again, "you shouldn't harass women."

"Come out, punk!" the man yells as you take more steps backwards.

"What? Are you too much of a pussy to face me like a man?" you see the mysterious voice drop behind him, getting a closer look only when he stood up straight.

Tight black costume. Blue accents. Domino mask. Nightwing, no doubt.

This was your first time ever to see one of Gotham's vigilantes in the flesh, and to be honest, you were surprised he was real. Practically, you knew he existed, he was all over the news, but it was different seeing him up close. He seemed... familiar? In a way you can't quite place...

"You insult me!" Nightwing joked as he moved behind his back undetected, without any particular difficulty, "I think dick suits me better." he says before smacking the man's neck, knocking him unconscious.

You look at him in awe, mouth hanging, eyes wide as saucers, as he turns to you, a shit eating grin on his face as if he said some great joke.

"Are you alright?" he asks you, his voice stable, although it had another layer to it, well hidden, "Did he hurt you?" he moves closer checking for any superficial injuries.

You stand there, staring at him with a blank expression.

You can still feel the blood rushing through your veins, your heartbeat distinct in your ears.

You're alive. You're still alive.

You can see the vigilante approach you slowly, his hands raised in front of him. He was saying something... What was he saying?

"Hey, it's okay..." Dick slowly approaches you, but you seem to be completely unresponsive. Probably in shock from what happened. "He's gone, you're safe." he says now in front of you.

He can hear the bus approaching, you must have been waiting for it, but you still remain still, even as the bus speeds by you both.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asks.

You hear the bus, you do. You know you should have gotten on it, but your legs are not moving. He's still talking.

You're broken out of your trance by Nightwings hand on your shoulder, you shake a bit at the gesture before you calm yourself.

He's a hero. He wouldn't do anything to you.

"I- I'm sorry, what?" you look at him, staring right in the whites of his domino mask. He looks concerned.

"Do you need a lift home?" he asks, his hand falling back to his side.

He looks at you, too. He notices the crease of your eyebrows, how you bite the inside of your cheek. Your knuckles are white, your eyes darting around checking for danger.

You're nervous, scared. Dick has never seen you like this, and he would never if you had anything to say about it.

You quickly wipe your cheeks, feeling the dry tears, "I would appreciate that, thank you." you say clearing your throat. He just nods, and starts talking to whoever it was on the other side of the intercom.

You close your eyes, sitting back on the bench, letting the cold winter air caress your face.

Today was a bad day.

Your coffee was less watered down than usual. You arrived in class just in time. You got your American History test score back, which meant you wouldn't have to pair up with Grayson. They had pasta in the cafeteria. You fell asleep in the library. You were attacked. And a man in spandex is taking you home.

It was a very shitty day all in all.

Dick was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, an arm behind his head.

He's been there for what, two hours? maybe three, he didn't know anymore, he didn't care to find out.

Last nights patrol has left him in shambles, seeing you like that. Crying. Helpless.

Sure, he had seen people cry before, people who had gone through her same thing as you. People who have gone through less or more.

But you? Crying? He never hoped to see you like that.

You were always so well put together. Confident. Assertive.

He's seen you annoyed, happy, stressed. He's seen you just exist. Although he supposes yesterday you were just existing too, until that asshole decided to assault you.

It felt... sort of intimate, seeing someone so confident, fall apart.

And he hated it.

He has imagined so many things with you in mind -plans he wanted to make true if only you didn't seem to hate the ground he walked on, all the while he worshipped the one you did in secret.

But his daydreams were always happy. First kisses, first dates, and peaceful days. Wedding days and kids running around. You were always smiling in them.

He knows it's strange and probably a bit creepy to think all that when you barely wasted a glance at him. But he had come to terms with it. It wasn't like he was the only one who did it. Or like he stalked you.

Yesterday was an eye-opener. He idealised you, thought you couldn't be anything aside from what he saw, what he thought.

He was wrong.

He felt ashamed to have thought that. Ashamed to have stripped you from the right of being human, just for you to fit his delusions.

Yesterday he saw you, not all of you but more than he had before. And it left him more determined to get to know everything.

First step was to get you to be his partner at the project, and with his score he was pretty sure has got that one in the bag.

Then he'd make you fall for his charms. Also easy.

Then, he'd hope you don't actually hate him too much. That one he didn't know how to make sure of.

He sighed and closed his eyes, his brain immediately conjuring up the image of your face last night. You seemed so out of it, crying, unresponsive. You seemed to have been pulled some place he couldn't understand or reach. There's so much he didn't know.

He wonders if you are doing better tonight, but he can't check on you in any way.

Except he could.

He knew where you lived. He could drop by and check on you.

Actually, Nightwing could. That wouldn't do much to further his plans, but it'd calm the tightness in his chest.

No.

That's too much.

Maybe he should stake out at the bus stop. Or maybe he could be normal for once in his life and leave you alone.

You feel chills walking at the bus station. You know statistically it isn't very likely you'll be attacked again, but still the fear of possibility lingers.

Its much earlier this time around -you made sure to not fall asleep in the library again, and quite frankly you wouldn't do it again.

But the cold and the darkness where the same. As did the fact you the the only person waiting for the bus.

But you had bought a pepper spray, that must account for something, right?

You sit on the bench, same as you did last time, and before you know youre spacing out again. This seemed to be the norm the last few days.

After the dream.

You hate that this is the only thing you can think of, that he seems to consume your every thought, working himself into the corners of your mind.

And he doesn't even know! He's walking around clueless of just how much he has thrown you off of your game.

Maybe he knows. Maybe he went to one of those witches and had the dream incepted in your brain because he wanted to mess with you. That's it.

There's no other explanation on why you'd-

"You'll get attacked again if you keep zoning you like this." a voice breaks you out of your thoughts6 turn your head and see the very same guy that saved you the other night, "Hello." he smiles at you, and you can only think about how he must have practiced for hours in the mirror to get it just right.

"Should I be afraid you're here again?" you ask him, holding the pepper spray tighter. Hero or not, he's a man.

He comes and sits next to you, like he knew you from yesterday, making you scoot a bit to the side, "Afraid I'm stalking you?" he asks, flashing that award winning smile of his again.

"Are you?" you raise an eyebrow, looking into the whites on his mask.

"What if I am?" he shoots back, like second nature. He's so weird.

You roll your eyes at him, "Then youre doing a terrible job at it." he just chuckles, "Why are you even here?" you ask him.

Of course it was possible that it was a coincidence, and that he was patrolling the area- "I wanted to check on you." he interrupts you.

Your eyebrows shoot up in a mix of surprise and confusion, why would he want to do that?

"You seemed very distraught," he continues when you dont answer him, "It seemed like you were traumatised." he says, fighting the urge to fidget.

He couldn't do that, he was Nightwing. What kind of impression would he give if he appeared anything but confident.

But this is you we we're talking about, how can he not be nervous. Especially how its the first time, he seems to having a conversation with you without you trying to get him to leave.

You stay quiet for another moment, "So you are stalking me." he say trying to hide a smile. He's caught off guard at your words. He had never expected that answer.

"You seem much too nonchalant about that." he says smirking, any ounce of anxiety he had leaving his body.

"Why shouldn't I be?" you turn forward, not looking at him, "You seem hardly dangerous," you say, "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Dicks eyes glint at your response, "Crime alley?" he asks, jumping at the chance to learn more about you.

"East End," you muse, and he smiles at you, humming, not saying another word, and you fall into a comfortable silence before he starts talking again, about what, you can't remember.

The only thing you know is that no matter how strange, you feel content with this stranger talking your ear off.

This is the worst moment in your life. Rock bottom.

"See, this sweetheart?" Dick shoves the paper in your face, "98%" he grins at your flabbergasted expression, "I win!"

You're having war flashbacks. How could this have happened.

"Only for a point!" you exclaim annoyed at how smug he looked.

Dick seems to be a silver away from jumping around and dancing, and honestly you'd prefer that, to his smug annoying smirk.

"Deal's a deal honey bunch!" he says stuffing his test back into his bag, "So when do we start?" he asks

What sins had you committed in your past life to deserve this?

Still, you weren't gonna go back on your word, even if you agreed out of desperation to get away from him.

"Fine," you exhale and his smiles widens, "We start tomorrow," you continue opening up your bag, pulling out a pen and your post-its, "Be there at 10," you scribble down your address, Dick stood patiently, his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling, "And don't be late." you say pointedly as you hand him the paper, which he took with a smile.

"Got it!" he nods, "See you tomorrow!" he walks away.

Was that a skip in his step?

You stare at his form getting smaller and smaller, your face slowly falling.

What have you done?

Never mind that, how would you make sure you would freak out while having him in your house?

After that day, every morning, you'd meet up with Dick to work on your project.

The first few sessions, were hell for you. You were always stepping on glass even in your own home, and he seemed to be oblivious to all of it.

Then, suddenly everything was fine!

Turns out he wasn't as bad as you thought he was - when his stuff wasn't taking over the whole room anyway. Contrary to what you thought of him, he was actually putting in effort in order to achieve the marks he did, and the whole reason he seemed so chill in class, was because he crammed all the material 4 days before the final by pulling all-nighter after all-nighter. You even got to witness that in person, when you both had a test and he decided that having a study buddy was beneficial for you both, and by extension crashed on your couch until the exam was over.

That put you a bit at ease at first, that you were on equal footing. That he wasn't somehow flying through university because of his father.

Then you simply realised, you were being a bitch to him for no reason. No matter how jealous you were, you had no reason to act like you did.

And now? You somehow had become friends.

You dont know when or how it had become a staple for Dick to come over so you could eat lunch together. But you didn't mind it one bit.

As much as you'd never admit it to him -in fear you'd boost his ego even more, God knows he didn't need it - he was great company. He had this talent of never letting the conversation die, which made him very entertaining to be around.

His affinity to talk endlessly, was especially helpful to you the first few times he came over to work for the project.

You were so afraid that your stupid dream wouldn't let you get any work done, especially with him sitting across from you, but as if he knew that you were nervous, he managed to talk the entire time he was there, whether it was about the project or not. And while you found that annoying, it also made you realise that you were fretting over nothing. Because the dream was just that, a dream.

You quickly learned that Dick Grayson was never gonna be as smooth as he was in that dream. At least not the Dick you knew.

The Dick you knew, banged his head on the table when he couldn't figure something out, and he'd show you pictures of his siblings any chance he got, and he would barge into your house and gush about Superman. He would drop by at the weirdest time, just to show you a new game he got, or to tell you about a book his brother recommended.

You're pulled back to reality at the sound of your door opening, Dick appearing in the kitchen soon enough.

"You'll never guess what happened before I got here," he said and you looked at him as he rambled on about how, his little brother, Damian, got a cow as a pet and how the cow somehow ended up in the manor.

You smiled as you hummed every once, acknowledging all that he said, all the while feeling a comfortable warmth spreading through your chest.

You had fallen into a comfortable routine with him, you've gotten so used to his presence, that it seemed wrong to you, how you used to avoid him like the plague.

Then at night, Nightwing would drop by, taking a break from patrol, basically forcing you to stop studying for a while - he said it's because it is mutually beneficial, you said he's full of shit and that he should just admit to missing you, which he didn't deny.

That was another thing you had grown accustomed too.

After the second time you saw him at the bus stop, he kept appearing. "I'd be a terrible stalker if I didn't" he said when you asked him why he' basically dropping you home every chance he gets.

You didn't know how you ended up becoming friends with the vigilante, but you did, and for a guy that wears a skin tight suit and calls himself Nightwing, he was great company. Although his ego was also somewhere amongst the clouds -probably hanging out with Dicks.

You're sitting on the desk in your room, studying, when you feel your skin tingle. Someone was in your room.

You immediately grab the cup you have next to you and throw it at the intruder, only to hear the familiar low chuckle of Nightwing.

"Really sweetheart?" he raising an eyebrow as your shoulders slump in relief, "I thought you'd know better by now." he tilts his head before, moving closer to place the cup back on your desk.

You roll your eyes at him, "You could have knocked idiot." you say as he moves and lays on the floor, relief flowing in his bones. He knows better that to lie on you bed in his 'grim, dirty suit' as you made sure to point out last time he did it.

"Where's the fun in that?" he smirks as you turn around to look at him. Your exhale as you look at him, noticing the small cuts on his cheek, immediately grabbing the small bottle of iodine you stored in your room for that exact reason

"Can't win either way," you mumble as you move next to him, opening up the cap. Nightwing sits up, laying his back on the bed post as you move closer.

You work in silence staring at his face, slowly applying it on his cuts, when you notice three distinct marks on his face shaped like a triangle.

Strange.

"This is funny," you say as you softly apply iodine on the cut at the side of his face

"What is?"

"My friend has the same three moles on his cheek."

Nightwing stills at your words. Do you know? How long have you known? Is this your way of telling him you do? Are you gonna hate him for not telling you?

He's such an idiot. He shouldn't have gotten this close. Now you'll know his identity and be in constant danger.

"A lot of people have moles," he says nonchalantly, muscles tense.

"But in the same pattern?"

"It's more common that you think,"

"I'm sure it is," you mutter, focused on not missing a cut.

You both stay quiet for a while. You seemed to not have made the connection, causing Dick to relax a bit. You didn't know.

You did, however, seem to notice the moles on his face in the time he spent with you as a civilian. You even called him a friend.

He hoped you couldn't feel his pulse rising at the revelation.

"What is your friend like?" he asks before he could stop himself.

"He's nice I suppose"

"You suppose?" he turns to look at you, but you move away, sitting across from him waiting for the medicine to dry.

"He's actually perfect, it's infuriating," you continue leaning back,

"He is very social. Everybody loves him. It's because he's fun to be around. And he's doing great academically too,

"I'm kind of a terrible person to admit this, but I couldn't stand him for the longest time because I was jealous," you chuckle, thinking how stupid that was of you, missing out on Dick Grayson for something as immature as the first spot in the class,

"He seemed to be able to do anything effortlessly when I couldn't. I know now that it was stupid to dislike him for that, but it was eating me away." you stop for a minute, lost in thought.

"It was unfair too, since all he did was be nice to me even when i was acting like a bitch."

It felt strange hearing you talk about him to him, but he couldn't help but pry.

"What made you change your mind?" he asks.

"Do you know how you have this idea of what people are like in your head? And then you find out they're nothing like that?" he knows because he did have one of what you'd be like, before the incident,

"Well, I thought he was a lucky trust fund baby who just messed around in class. But then I had to work with him, and it turns out he's actually very smart. He's also insufferably nice. That part is still annoying." you smile and he felt like his heart would burst

"One time, he went to deal with my neighbour because he kept knocking on my door and then disappearing, " Dick remembers that day, you were both sitting on your couch brainstorming for the project when a knock echoed through your house. He looks at the door, expecting you to go check, but you never did. Turns out one of your neighbours keeps knocking and disappearing. You told him not to worry about it, but he was having none of that and stop by the door for another hour, catching him red-handed the next time he knocked. Safe to say he didn't bother you again.

"He's... special. I'm glad he's in my life..."

Dick hums in understanding as you lean forward again and continue working, your touch hot against his skin.

A win is a win, he thought. You don't hate him anymore, and he'll take what he can get, so he stays silent, feeling you apply ointment on his cuts.

"I actually dreamt of him once..." you say, getting up from the floor to grab the band-aids. Nightwing stills staring intensively at you.

"You did?" he asks carefully. He didn't know this...

You chuckle lightly as you plop next to him again, holding a package of colourful band aids - he thought it was charming that you still used those for kids - "Yeah", you take a pink one out and start to peel it,

"I dreamt of kissing him in the kitchen," now you had him hanging from your lips more than he ever did before, "he had come over for the project, in my dream, in actual life I hadn't even agreed to do it with him," so this was before he saved you.

You chuckle again, pressing tightly the band aid over his cut, "I couldn't function for days, it was all I could think about..." you trail off, opening another band aid. "It's stupid..."

Dick speaks before you can even think of falling deeper into your thoughts, "Doesn't sound stupid to me," he says looking at you, "You seem to be in love with the guy," he self projects as you stare at him annoyed, he loved it when you did that, "Can't blame you since he's oh so charming and smart!" he teased

"Oh, shut up" you roll your eyes, slapping lightly his abdomen, causing him to wince.

"You are so mean," he whines, holding his abdomen in mock pain.

"You love me," you joke, getting up, moving everything back to its place, his eyes following your every move, a lovestruck expression painting his face.

He did.

You don't want to say that you feel disappointed that Nightwing didn't show up tonight. You know he's busy. Plus its not like you're entitled to his time.

He's a hero for Gods shake, he doesn't have time to drop by just because you feel lonely.

You could always call Dick... But it's late and he's probably getting his beaty sleep.

You exhale, as you stand up, stretching as you move the bathroom.

You mechanically grab your toothbrush, applying a generous amount of toothpaste on it. You can hear your mothers voice in your head, telling you not to be wasteful, but your teeth don't feel clean enough, if you don't look like your foaming at the mouth by the end of brushing.

You spit out the foam, "Sorry mom," you say as you rinse the rest out.

You feel like shed be proud to see where you are. Attending university, having friends, having a stable life.

You smile as you back hits your bed, ready to doze off until the morning.

And then you hear it. A knock on the glass of your window.

Your ears immediately perk up at the sound, "Nightwing?" you call out, seeing the familiar black and blue suit, the atmosphere in the room changing.

He knocked... He never knocks...

"Hey sweet cheeks," he says, sending a smile towards your way, voice weaker than you've ever heard before. Something was very wrong...

You scan over him. He's leaning his back against the windowsill, his lips is busted coating his chin with blood. His chest is heaving up and down, like he's having trouble breathing. And his hand is draped over his abdomen, pressing on them.

And then it hits you. The distinct metallic smell of blood.

You feel your stomach turn, staring in his eyes. With a quick move you open the window wider. "Get in and take off your suit." he say as calmly as you can.

But he feels like messing around, "Damn girl, take me out to dinner, at least." he says as he slowly climbs in, immediately sitting down groaning as he did. You were having none of his bullshit today.

"Take it off." you demand again and he slowly peels off the upper part.

Your hands fly to cover your mouth at the large gush on his abdomen. The blood seems to have stopped by the pressure the suit was adding to the skin. But everything around it was covered by a mixture of dried and new blood.

You're gonna throw up.

You stand up quickly, rushing to your bathroom, "What the hell is wrong with you!" you say, grabbing the first aid kit, "Waltzing in here, bleeding out, cracking jokes!" you yell at him as you wet a towel, trying to gather your scattered thoughts.

You need alcohol. And a needle with thread. You frantically move to your kitchen, trying to gather everything before he's gone.

"It's no big deal, just a-"

"Just a scratch?" you cut him off, "Just a scratch!" you storm back into your room, eyes wide, standing over him, "Of course! Just a scratch! A small scratch that extends through your torso!" you yell at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"It's okay-" he leans forward.

"Don't tell me it's okay! Not when you're bleeding out on my carpet! Not when you have a large fucking wound that needs stiches!" you sit by him, pushing him against the wall, before dousing the wet towel with alcohol, softly cleaning the wound despite your emotional state.

You stay silent if only for a moment, trying to calm yourself, "Why did you come here?" you ask him, staring into the whites of his domino mask, after he didn't speak.

He takes a second to answer, "I wanted to see you."

You gape at him, "Are you insane?" you exclaim dapping his skin with more pressure, causing him to wince, "You wanted to see me? Tomorrow is a day too, Nightwing! What on earth made you think that it was a good idea to come here in this state?" you throw the towel to the side, grabbing the needle, "What if I didn't know how to stitch you up? What then?" you pass the thread through, dipping the whole thing in alcohol. "What then?"

Dick lowers his eyes to look at you, chuckling lightly, "You're from the East End," he muses, trying to focus his vision on you, "Of course you'd know.."

"That's no reason-"

Nightwing winces as you drench his would with alcohol again, "It's not a big deal-" he begins to say, cutting you off, but you interrupt him.

"Not a big deal?" you say slowly now, a single tear falling from your eye, eyes trembling as you force the needle to pierce through his skin, "You are hurt! What if you bleed out in front of me and I can't help you?" you say, allowing more tears to break free. Dick could feel his heart breaking.

"What if you died?" you said slowly, trying to steady your hand, doing your best to keep that from happening.

"But I'm not-" he goes to lean closer to you again.

"You could!", you push him back, not daring to look up, focusing on your handiwork, tears falling like waterfalls, blurring your vision.

You just need to focus, a couple more to go. Just to keep him alive, until he can call someone to get him to an actual doctor. They dont have to be perfect. They just need to keep him here with you.

He doesn't dare break the silence, letting you do your work, regretting the moment he decided to come here.

He doesn't even know how he did, much less why.

He remembers fighting, and then the pain bleeding throughout his body. Next thing he knew, he was outside your house, holding his abdomen, trying to walk in a straight.

You sit back when youre done, staring at the badly patched up wound, ears ringing.

"I know I can be mean and-" you break the silence, voice low and hoarse, "and that I am a total bitch, and I know i dont say it often, but I care!" you exclaim, "I care so much and I- I don't wanna lose you..." you say softly, "You're my first friend here, and- and-" Dick watches you as sobs wreck your whole body, his hands instinctively move towards you, wanting to provide any semblance of comfort, even when pain radiates at every movement.

"It's okay," he says, pulling you against him despite the pain, "I'm okay, I'm here." he brushes his fingers through your hair, letting you get it all out, "I'm not dying."

"But you could be..." you say, pulling away, looking at him, "If not today, then tomorrow... I can’t do this again! I can’t watch you come in here hurt, pretending it’s all okay. I can’t-" you trail off, turning your gaze away from him.

But he doesn't, he looks at you, as he always did. He doesn't think he was able to see until he met you the first day of university, even if you shoot his suggestion of hanging out down. It was like the world was filled with all kinds of colours he didn't even know existed. He wanted to see more, he wanted to watch you forever.

Even like this, even if you're crying in his arms, even if it is his fault.

You take a deep breath, opening your mouth to speak again, but don't get a chance. His hand flies on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, slotting his lips against yours, before you get the chance to react.

You freeze at this, not leaning in, not backing out. Just sitting there frozen, brain short circuiting.

His kiss is soft. Slow, as if he's scared, you'll run away. But you don't. You lean into it, accepting whatever he was willing to give to you.

His lips are chapped against yours, but you don't mind because that is so entirely him.

You feel the tension in him, the hesitancy, the unspoken emotions swirling between you. His kiss deepens slightly, but it’s still gentle, tender-like he’s testing the waters, unsure if you’ll pull away or welcome him in.

And just like with everything else about him, you welcome this change of pace, wanting nothing more than to feel him close. Alive.

You slowly move your hand to rest over his heart, and he immediately covers it with his own, pressing it firmer on his chest, letting you feel the heartbeat against your skin.

He's here. He's alive.

After a moment, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. You can see the determination on his face.

"I can't promise," he says slowly, afraid he'll scare you away, "I can't promise you that I'll won't get hurt, that I won't be reckless..." you feel your heart tighten at his words, tears welling up again, "But I can promise to always come back..." he stares into your eyes, "You won't lose me."

Sobs break out of you once again as you throw yourself around his shoulders, hugging him tightly, his own arms snaking around your waist.

And you stay there, entangled in one another, even after you stop crying.

He keeps holding you close, afraid you'll disappear if he doesn't. Afraid that this is just a dream, he'll soon wake up from.

He holds you close until he feels your breath lower and your body giving away to exhaustion.

And even then, he doesn't leave. He sits by you for another hour before Bruce calls to check on him.

He knows he has to leave, to get his wound checked out.

But all that seemed insignificant when he held you.

okay! this was supposed to be waaaay longer but tumblr wouldn't let me add more dividers😭😭

I hope you'll enjoy it! :)))

[angelsberrymilk]

soldier boy (ben) x sam winchester

multiverse travel au

Post 1

Post 2

a/n: because wincesties understood my vision for this pair. u don't have to know shit abt the boys or soldier boy. soldier boy is a superhero. he's like a twisted dark version of captain America and they're in HIS universe where Sammy ends up. no demons or monsters. only superheroes and normal ppl.

warning: +18. mdni. dark content ahead.

because everything is so different and supes are everywhere, Sammy feels lost and confused, magic and spells don't seem to work, all he wants is some answers and he can't even summon a mere crossroads demon, he feels helpless and he doesn't like it, at all.

Sammy really tries not to mope around like Dean– Ben. Ben keeps laughing at him, and tells him to relax a little bit because he's with the Soldier Boy, and nothing can happen to him when he's with him. Ben is not too awful to live with, driving from one motel to another, usually on a stolen car, and after breaking someone's arm or other body part for whatever reason, or maybe because Ben fucked someone's wife and they have to move out of their motel room.

Ben is messy, throws his shit around and doesn't clean much after himself, so Sam is left to pick up after him, and he's annoyed, because “Aren't military men supposed to be clean and tidy?”

Ben’s hand freezes mid-air, about to chug half a bottle of beer and stares at Sam. Sammy freezes too, like a deer in the headlights, realising this man can break every bone in his body without breaking a sweat. But all Ben does is smile, “I'm not in the army now, am I?”

Sammy nods, noticing the smile not reaching his eyes and just gathers the clothes in his arms, putting them in the hamper near the wall, letting out a shuddering breath as Ben watches him clean around their motel room as if he's his housewife.

Ben, who gets a bit too comfortable around Sammy, walks around butt naked, and hollers at him to order them some food, and laughs when Sam turns red and shouts at him to put on some trousers. Ben who likes to eat a worrying amount of pizza while watching the TV, a hand on Sam's thigh, squeezing hard whenever Sam moves a little, just so he doesn't leave. and when Sam finally complains that he has to go use the toilet, Ben turns his head and looks at him without blinking. For a second Sam is terrified he'll tell him to hold it, but all Ben does is slide his eyes down at Sam's jean clad lap and stares openly at his groin. He doesn't say anything for a long time then takes off his hand from Sammy's thigh, “Go, and bring back a six pack with you, Sammy boy”

Sam slides out of the sofa, sweat collecting at the nape of his neck, his brain screaming at him to run away, to run and never look back because this man was not his brother. He may look like him, behave like him to a certain extent, but Sammy can't leave him, he needs Dean. in whatever version he can have him.

Sam also realises that this man sleeps like shit, he sleeps for short intervals at a time, waking up shouting from nightmares, his body surging up with energy and concentrated compound V running in his veins. Sam eventually pries some answers from him, after some quietly asked questions and giving him pitiful puppy eyes and Ben cracked. He was uncomfortable when he told him, tried to hide it, tried to make it seem like it doesn't haunt him still, but Sammy knows he's lying. Ben tells him they did experiments on him during WWII, injected him with all sorts of chemicals, fed him dreams of glory and American Patriotism, made it seem like he was saving the nation. Nobody is born like this, everyone was made into a Supe, and whatever they tell people nowadays on the Internet and Television, it's all bullshit.

Sam feels a little bad but tries to remind himself that this Dean probably committed countless of war crimes and God knows what else, if those theories on Reddit are anything to go by. and he understands why these theories would be popular on certain places of the Internet. Soldier boy was built to be a weapon, and he was but a man, driven by desires and emotions. He's broken, wrong, sinful and dangerous, but Sammy can't bring himself to be disgusted, not when he himself is too tired, so tired of not having what he wants, and all he wants is the one thing he can have, this Dean, this man who wears his brother's face.

He knows it probably makes him a shitty person to stay with this 105 year old racist prick, but this man looks like he's only in his 30s, walks like Dean, sounds like Dean, looks like Dean, even smells like him.

Sammy found that one day after he found himself burying his nose in the man's dirty t-shirts that were thrown over the sofa. He's embarrassed at his weakness and tries to forget how the smell of sweat, musk and something so Dean made him feel weak in the knees and an army of butterflies errupted in his stomach.

Sammy has also been close enough to smell him and feel the warmth of his body against his. It happened in the middle of the night, when Soldier Boy was once again woken up by a nightmare. So Sam blinked his eyes open and turned his head to look at him on the other bed, but a big warm calloused hand pressed the side of his head down on the pillow hard so he won't move. he can't move. not with the type of strength Ben possesses. Sam held his breath, praying Ben won't snap his neck in half, mistaking him for an enemy soldier, mind broken, fractured and riddled with PTSD.

But all Ben did was lean down, his hot breath washing over Sam's face, his body frozen in fear. He didn't say anything for a long time, and Sam knew he was looking at him, then he whispered in his deep and heavy voice, “Sleep, Sammy.” Sam’s heart jumped in his chest, and he bit his lower lip so he wouldn't whimper and felt his mattress dip. Ben slid under the covers, easily pushing Sam’s body further in the bed, making space for himself, practically plastering himself to the back of Sam’s body, throwing a heavy arm over Sam's waist, getting comfortable right behind him, their bodies touching from top to bottom.

Sam gulped and parted his lips, breathing out a weak, “Ben-”

Ben didn't like that. So he clasped a hand over Sam's mouth, pressing hard, covering both his mouth and nose at the same time, Sam fought against his instincts telling him to kick that man as hard as he could but he can't, he may as well just ask Ben to kill him right then and there.

Ben lifted his head and breathed down Sam's ear, his nose touching his flesh, “Shut the fuck up, Sammy,”

Sam nodded before he could help it and Ben let go, finally granting him permission to breathe. While Sam gulped in oxygen and Ben got comfortable on the bed, squeezing Sam to his body like a giant pillow, “You're warm,” Ben whispered, sounding tired.

Sam’s heart broke a little, but that didn't last long when Ben added, “Shame you don't have a warm cunt to match,”

And right as he said it, he rolled his hips and Sam felt like throwing up at what obviously was Soldier Boy’s half hard cock right against the crack of his ass, then he settled, Sam listened for Ben's breathing and his heart finally stopped hammering in his chest when Ben's breathing evened out and he was surely asleep.

Sammy was terrified, but also safe at the same time, but also simultaneously in danger of losing one of his limbs if Ben has another nightmare or kills him in his sleep. Sam has never felt this close physically before to Dean, never so warm and cozy, but also so horrified and sick to his stomach because this isn't how brothers are meant to behave. But Ben isn't his brother. That's one of the first things he ever told him. That he wasn't his brother.

Sam closes his eyes tight and prays for his safety and for a way to go back home. And shivers when he realises he wants to take this man with him back home. Obviously nobody gives a shit about him in his world, and he'd do much good back in theirs. Soldier Boy was strong, a supe, and with the right training he can easily be one of the best hunters there was. And Sam is sure Dean wouldn't mind, not when this man kept Sam this safe for so long, looked after him, and plus this man may not be Dean, but he's still family in a way, and Sam's not very keen on leaving him behind. (That's Sam convincing himself that he'll be the one deciding to take this mfer with him when he knows that Ben will demand to go back with him, Ben won't let Sam leave him alone.)

.

tagging the ppl kind enough to tell me they enjoyed my insane ship :) this is for you <3

@klingyklaus @toasty-broski @28confusedthoughts @winchesterdefender @blackkmariah @106skin @redpopcat @arwenadreamer @nguyetdahuong @asongfortheunloved @rancidlovers @bcatwinchest @supfan67 @unabashedhonesty @hellfire-fist @nanacupid @arthrodira @loserluizard @jocelynfan @waywardsamdean @sastielbeltscene @sam-sinchester @masoena @winchestermylove @sammybeann @azrielrose @saltmonellas @boypussysam @monkibizznes @daddysboydean @notanotherthembo @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Synopsis - Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Pairing - ExBoyfriend!Santiago Garcia x Female Reader

Word Count - 2.6k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. kinda toxic relationship dynamic. cursing. angst. this one gets a little rough.

Author's Note - I was in a mood when I wrote this. it's not often I write angst like this, but when I do, I aim to break some hearts. not sure why I chose Santiago for this one... it just felt right. I know this isn't a part of any of my series, but this idea came to me and I managed to bang it out in an hour. series fics coming soon - promise!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

This is the way it always goes.

You know it's him as soon as you hear the knocking.

He always knocks as if he's trying to break the door down. Maybe he is. He's broken down everything else in your life.

This is the way it always goes.

You tell yourself you're not answering. You're going to sit here and listen to him bang on the door. Then you'll listen as he yells, begs, tries to sweet talk you through the heavy oak, words seeping through the wood like raindrops. You're not answering.

But then he uses that tone, the honeyed, dulcet, low and raspy one. The one that shoots straight to your heart. His voice cracks, and so does your resolve.

You slowly wander towards the front door, sitting down against it with a thud. He hears it. He knows you're there. He knew you'd come around.

"Baby," he whispers.

You hear him loud and clear.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your baby, Santiago."

You're trying to sound authoritative but you just sound broken. Lost. Helpless.

"You are," he pleads. "Don't say that. You are my baby. You're always going to be my baby."

"No, I'm not," you plead back.

This is the way it always goes.

"You're the love of my goddamn life, honey. When are you going to realise that?"

"I'm not," you counter. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not."

There are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks. You didn't even realise you were crying until you felt the water hit your lap. He always makes you cry.

Your lover shouldn't make you cry.

"Just let me in. Let me see you. Please."

It's always the pleading please that gets you. Santiago isn't exactly a polite man. He gets what he wants and he takes what he needs and he usually doesn't care who gets hurt in the process.

"No, Santiago. No. You do this every time. Nothing ever changes. You never change."

"I'm trying, baby. I promise you I am. It's hard, it's really fucking hard, but I'm trying. For you. I'm trying for you."

You don't believe a word he says. You don't. But he sounds so... genuine. He's the king of false promises, Santiago Garcia. Maybe, just maybe, this time it won't be false. One of these days he'll actually follow through. Maybe.

"I can't do this, Santiago. I can't. You break me more every time."

Soon, there'll be nothing left for him to break.

"Don't say that. Baby, don't say that."

You hear his head hit your door with a thud, resting there. You turn to press your forehead into the wood, the two of you so close but still so far apart.

"You hurt me, Santiago. And every time I think I'm okay, you show up again. It isn't fair."

It isn't fair. But this is the way it always goes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, hermosa. I never meant to. I love you."

It's always those three little words that crack the very foundations of your heart, splintering it into a million tiny pieces.

It's always those three little words that make you relent.

You sigh deeply, and reach up above your head to undo the deadbolt. The noise startles Santiago from where he's sat with his head against the cold wood. He rises to his feet and takes a step back, careful and considered.

You take a deep breath and unlock the door. You don't open it. You can't bring yourself to.

Santiago does. He turns the handle gently and pulls it towards him, stood still in his place. He doesn't come in. He wants to hear you say it first.

You finally look at him, and you regret it instantly.

He looks good. So good. His hair has grown out longer than the last time you saw him, light stubble dusting his face. He's got more grays coming in, salt and pepper scattered amongst the darkness. The sun has kissed his skin on all of his missions abroad, making him glow. He looks delectable.

"Cariño," he breathes. "Fuck. You're so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember."

A tear drips down your cheek, soaking into the material of your shirt. He sounds so sincere. He is so sincere. You know he thinks the world of you. It's so painful.

This is the way it always goes.

He takes a step towards you, and you suddenly find you can't move. The rational part of your brain is telling you to get back, to put as much distance between you as possible. But you don't. You stay exactly where you are, allowing him to invade your space.

Santiago leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, large, calloused hands cradling your face tenderly.

"I missed you," he breathes, and you can taste the mint on his tongue. He's chewed this one type of gum since you've known him. He always tastes the same.

"You're gonna leave again," you whisper. "You come here, you fuck me up, and then you leave. I'm not doing it again, Santiago. I can't."

"I'm sorry, hermosa. So fucking sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" you cry. "I try to move on every fucking time, Santi. And then you crawl back into my life and I let you! I let you! I always say it's gonna be the last time, and it never is. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? I feel like a fool, Santi. A fucking fool!"

Silence.

"Santi," he repeats slowly.

You look at him incredulously, and then scoff in disbelief.

"What?"

"You called me Santi, not Santiago. Like the old days."

You didn't even realise you'd done it. It just feels so easy, to fall back into old habits. It's programmed into you, a part of your DNA now. He's your Santi and you're his baby and you'll break each others hearts a million times and keep on going.

This is the way it always goes.

He reaches back and shuts the door behind him. He's staying. For now. You look at him with teary eyes, bottom lip trembling.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," you jab shakily.

"Is that what I am to you, hermosa? An old habit?"

You inhale sharply.

"You're a hell of a lot of fucking things to me, Santi."

You want to step back. You want to push him away and throw him out the door. You want to hit him, scratch at him, punch him in his stupid, gorgeous face. But you don't. Instead, you step forward - straight into his outstretched arms.

You press yourself into him, tucking yourself into his broad chest. He wraps his arms around you as tightly as he possibly can, terrified that you'll disappear any second. You both exhale the past, and inhale the present.

"If you hurt me again, I'll kill you," you threaten, muffled by the cotton of his t shirt.

"I'd let you," he whispers into your hair. "I'd die a happy man if I was to die at your hands."

He always does this. Knows exactly what to say. Promises he won't leave. Then, inevitably, he gets a call, asking him to fly out to Colombia, Kenya, Alaska. And he goes. Without a second thought for you, he goes.

You've lost count of how many times it has happened. You're getting a horrible feeling of déjà vu. But you just can't bring yourself to break free from this hold he has on you. Not when he's rocking you gently, murmuring how you're his whole world, how he has nothing if he doesn't have you, how this time he'll be different.

You're not sure if you believe him. But you're sick of arguing with yourself and you're sick of pulling teeth. He'll break your heart again. Maybe you're immune to it now. There's only one way to find out.

"Make me forget," you whisper. "Make me forget all the shitty things you've done to me. Make me forget my own fucking name, Santi. Please."

He pulls back to look at you, to see if you mean it. You do. You're tired of fighting this. Of fighting the inevitable.

Santiago lunges forward and smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans when he realises you taste the same. You chew that gum just for him.

He hooks his foot around your ankle and yanks, sending you flying backwards. Santi's got his arms firmly around your back, cushioning your fall. As soon as you hit the floor, he's on you. His lips are pressing into your neck, down your jaw, nipping at your ears. His hands are groping at you roughly - your hips, your tits, your ass. Anything he can grab, he does.

Santiago stops momentarily to look at you intently. He dips his head down and licks up your cheek before kissing your eyelids tenderly. You taste like salty tears and years of regret.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and pull as hard as you can, hoping to hurt him. He groans in pain, and a sick sense of satisfaction settles in your stomach. You want to hurt him. You want to hurt him like he hurts you.

You lean up and sink your teeth into the expanse of his neck, tasting the musky masculinity of him. He groans again, and you feel lightheaded, drunk off the sound.

"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips in between kisses. "Fuck you, Santiago Garcia."

"I love you," he whispers back against your mouth. "I'll love you forever."

You don't know whether you love him or hate him or neither or both and it's making you crazy. You knee him in the ribs and he folds forward, his weight dropping onto you. You want to feel every inch of him against you, every dip and curve and rough edge he has to offer.

You're ripping his shirt over his head before you can think twice. He's managed to pull your pants down your legs, throwing them behind him. He tugs at your shirt, gets frustrated, and rips it down the middle.

"Fucking asshole," you spit, sinking your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

"You don't care," he drawls. "You love me and you don't care."

You grab at his belt, making sure it hits him in his side as you pull it through its loops. When he hisses in pain, you hit him with it again, this time on the ass.

"You wanna hurt me, hermosa, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you grit through your teeth, trying not to cry. "I want to do more than hurt you, Santi. I'd kill you if I could."

He kisses your neck so tenderly in response that you shake with rage. You keep trying to tell yourself that you don't want him, that you're better than this. It's no use. No one else in the world can make you feel the way Santiago can. You're cursed.

He's slipping your underwear down your legs and two fingers into the wet heat between your thighs before you can even think a coherent thought. You whine in response, canting your hips for more.

"You can lie to me all you want, honey. You can fight this all you need to," he murmurs, crooking his fingers. "But your body is giving you away. It always gives you away."

"I said make me forget, not remind me even more," you hiss.

He presses his thumb to your clit in response, the action making your legs go weak. You stop fighting him. Eventually, you always do. You surrender to Santiago, and go boneless on the floor.

"There we go," he coos. "You always give in, baby. That's how I know you love me."

You shake your head, tears welling on your waterline, saturating your eyelashes and making it hard to see.

"You do, baby. You do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

He speeds up his fingers, and it feels so good you see stars. Santiago leans down to kiss the spot underneath your ear, the one that makes you melt.

"Tell me the truth, my sweet girl. Please," he rasps against your skin. "Tell me you love me. Don't lie to me."

You're trying to clamp your mouth shut to stop the words escaping. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to slip free. To make the pain go away.

"Please," he begs. "Please, baby."

He hooks his fingers just right, and your vision goes white. You're thrown into your climax with no warning.

"I love you," you gasp as you come. "I love you, Santi. Fuck."

You come down from your high, chest heaving, sweat dripping down your skin. You look up at Santi, and watch as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"I knew you did," he chokes out. "I knew I wasn't crazy. Fuck, I love you so much. I'll never let you go again."

He smashes his lips to yours, both of your cheeks wet with emotion, slipping against each other.

"I still hate you," you spit into his mouth.

"I know," he soothes back, running his tongue over your teeth. "I know."

This is the way it always goes.

Santi lines himself up between your legs, sliding home with a gasp. This is where he belongs. Home.

You throw your arms around his neck, trying to plaster yourself to his front. He rocks his hips steadily, sending you both sliding across the floor.

This is the way it always goes.

The two of you never make it past the hallway. Whenever Santiago comes back to you, it always ends with the two of you tangled together on the floor, limbs intertwined and bodies connected. You once tried to move the two of you to the couch, but Santi fucked you so hard you slid off the cushions anyway.

Much like he's doing now.

He snaps his pelvis into yours, the force of it making you keen. You're gasping into each others mouths, hands grappling at whatever you can find. His grip on your hips is so tight, you know you'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Tell me you're mine," Santiago rasps into your mouth. "Please, baby. Please. Tell me you're mine."

You're so close you can taste it. As much as you don't want to admit it, the key to your release is those two words. You need to let go in more ways than one. You need to let go of the pain, the resentment, the regret, the false hope. You need to let go of everything, and surrender to the truth.

"I'm yours," you sob, tears running down your cheeks. "I'm yours, Santi. I always have been."

"You're mine," he confirms, pressing kisses all over your face. "And I'm yours, baby. I'm yours forever."

That's all you needed.

The two of you fall over the edge together, chests heaving and hips stuttering. You reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to your mouth. You're gasping against his lips as he chants sweet nothings against yours, the two of you panting and writhing.

Santiago collapses against you, his body acting as a weighted blanket. You wrap your arms around him, tracing absent minded patterns across his sweat slick skin. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, pressing occasional kisses wherever he can reach.

"I meant what I said," you murmur into his hair. "If you hurt me again, I'll kill you. I know at least three people that'd help me cover it up."

"Are those people Benny, Frankie and Will?"

"No comment."

He chuckles lowly, moving to press his forehead against yours.

"And I meant what I said. I'm yours. I'm yours forever."

This is the way it always goes.

[cinnasweetss]

karmic lover | p.wb

SYNOPSIS: in which you come to wonbin as a karmic lover for all he's done, and continues to do, to julie. now he's forced to imagine you in her place.

GENRE: smut, pwp.

CONTENT: wonbin is the biggest dick on the planet (has the biggest one too), wonbin is in a relationship with julie, oral (m receiving), protected sex, mentions of cheating, reader is not actually involved just mentioned, wonbin is delusional as hell, mentions of wonbin taking readers virginity, other shit I know I'm forgetting to add.

A/N: I can definitely expand on this if need be...I actually just cut this part out of a whole fic I wrote and it made it into a standalone. lollll.

every day, around the clock, even in his dreams, you're all park wonbin can think about. the park wonbin who's known to be the campus' resident dick. literally and figuratively. known cheater and manipulator. especially when it comes to julie.

which is why he's been ignoring her, minus the fact they're supposed to be taking time away from each other.

julie comes in using the key that is for emergencies only. the key that wonbin should've given to sungchan instead. he'll have to get those locks changed eventually.

"Why haven't you answered my texts?" wonbin is everything but happy to see her. wishing she'd go away until he gets the feelings he has for you to go away. "We broke up." it's an exaggeration that makes julie roll her eyes. taking a break and breaking up are two different things. to her at least.

"Won..." she says, inching closer to wrap her arms around his torso. "let's make up, hm? you said you wouldn't do it anymore...I believe you." except he has, he never stopped. doesn't really plan on it either, he knows he only has to swear he'll never do it again for julie to fall right back in his lap. "Hm?"

he only does it because he thinks it'll help him stop thinking about you, that's all it is. that's why he kisses her, caressing her cheek like he did yours. making her get on her knees so he can imagine its you instead. imagine its you pulling him out of his sweats, you pushing his half hard cock past your lips that haven't touched any others but his. you that works and sucks his cock like its the last on earth.

he can imagine it, vividly, just as soon as he shuts his eyes. if he can't see her, he can imagine its you instead. it is you, its you choking on his length as he pushes it past your throat, you gagging around him so much it feels euphoric. he grabs your head, pushing your nose to his navel as he jams into your throat with no mercy. You try and push him away, give yourself room to breathe, but he won't let up.

not when he realizes its julie instead of the woman he wants it to be.

he pulls out of her mouth, pulling her over to his bedroom just a few feet away, and shoving her on his bed. the bed where he had you just a few nights before. writhing and squirming underneath him as he took your innocence.

he rips her out of her clothes, pulling her out her matching set that he didnt waste a single second looking at. a matching set that you wouldn't even put on. its quick, flipping her over so she bares her ass at him, and reaching in his nightstand to pull a condom on.

he needs to move quick, keep you in his head before he realises its julie, before he has a chance to get soft. he stuffs himself in her without a word. "Bin!" she cries, back arching just the way he likes it, back arching to where he can easily grab ahold of her hips and jam his cock into her. "missed this pussy...so much." it's for you, but it's okay if she hears it because right now she is you. he's able to slip back into imagining its you, and its so real.

"fuck, y/- julie. shit. just like that." her name tastes bitter in his mouth even though he's said it many of times before he met you. "baby! oh, god!" she's so oblivious wonbin feels a little bad for her. but not for long. only because her continuous outburst are pulling him from his fantasy.

he has to bend down and place his hand over his mouth to quiet her because she sounds nothing like you. this way he can ignore the muffled moans as he continues to use her. using her to get himself off because he can't have you. you're supposed to stay the girl he cheated on his girlfriend with. nothing more. you're not supposed to take Julie's place.

[a-french-coconut]

Travis Stoll (Part 12)

In his life, Travis saw his father a total of two times.

At the winter solstice party and on Olympus after the battle of Manhattan.

Both times, it had been a particularly awkward conversation.

He expects this one to be the same.

"Hi dad, thank you for coming I guess ? You really didn't have to though, a pegasus or something would have sufficed."

He thinks he sees something akin to hurt flashing in Hermes' eyes.

It can't be, the guy can't think that after eighteen years of almost total absence, it would normal for him to pop up like that.

Silence hovers for two good minutes before Hermes finally remembers that a conversation is something that requires two willing participants.

"It's alright, I have a little time before going to work again."

No you don't

Yeah, Aphrodite wants her new fragrance right now boss

"Hey George and Martha, I don't any rats for you guys, sorry."

Two groans of disappointment echo in his head, making him chuckle.

"Tell Aphrodite to wait, I'm pressed with more urgent matters right now." Hermes orders to George and Martha.

"So, hum, are you going to teleport to Camp ? Or maybe give me a ride ?", He tentatively asks, not sure about why Hermes is still here.

"Yes, but I was hoping we could talk."

Talk ?

When time is flying and Connor is getting closer and closer to death ?

"Can't this wait ? Connor's life is literally a matter of time."

"Oh, don't worry, you'll make it in time," says Hermes dismissing his concerns, "I just want to have a nice conversation with you, a father to a son ?"

For the first time, Travis feels anger towards Hermes.

"Don't worry ? My brother is dying ! You have waited eighteen years, you can wait a couple of hours more !" He snaps, not caring at that moment that he is talking to a god.

"I'm your father and I-"

"No ! Don't call me that, you don't deserve it. Do you know how many times I prayed to you, asked you to help Connor and me ? I didn't need a big gesture, just a sign that you cared." His voice breaks, all the emotions he guarded for so long getting out all together, "You want to be father ? Bring me to Connor now and I'll talk with you all the time you want after. Just...just let me make sure he's safe first. I can't lose him."

He's feeling raw, vulnerable and he's pretty sure he's going to get blasted for screaming at a god, basically calling him an atrocious father.

He braces himself for what awaits him, maybe he'll get turned to a rabbit. No, not a rabbit, too fast, but a slug. Now that's a good punishment, he'll be a disgusting slimy creature until some toddler decides to step on him out of pure curiosity.

He is not ready for his father's arms surrounding him, for the warmth he emits.

With an absent father and an alcoholic mother, there hasn't been real parental figures for Travis. He has never known a mother's protecting and kind embrace, a dad throwing him on his shoulder, walking with him head upside down and laughing.

He thought that he didn't need that, how could he missed something he never knew ?

When he hugs back his father fiercely, not caring of the tears wetting his father's postman uniform, he realises how much he had been craving it.

"I'm, hum, sorry about that," he sniffles, "I shouldn't blown like that, I don't know what happened but-"

"I'm the one who should apologise, Travis." Hermes cuts him off, looking at him with sadness.

"You are right, I have no right to call myself your father, I have done nothing to deserve it. I will bring you to Connor but I want you to know this." Hermes looks right into his eyes, "You have become an incredible demigod, a true son of mine and I couldn't be more proud than the way you care for your family, Travis."

"Thanks, dad." He answers with a strangled voice, "We'll talk with Connor once he's safe and sound right ?"

"Oh, absolutely. You're not the only Stoll to deserve a hug." His father jokes, a little smile gracing his features.

"I don't think Aphrodite is going to like that."

"I'll give her a discount, she'll be fine. Now come on, close your eyes."

Hermes begins glowing and Travis dutifully closes his eyes.

Of course Hermes is big softie for his children (:

But you know, he's still a god, nothing like a good reality check to show him that he deserves worst dad award.

[hmshermitcraft]

Bdubs is an ordinary gardener. He isn't the greatest, he isnt the worse, he's just average. In fact, barely anyone pays attention to him.

But, one day, that all changes. After his shift is finally over, a co-worker, by the name of Etho, invites him out.

Bdubs expects Erho to know where they're going, but truthfully, Etho doesn't. They end up in an alleyway, gloomy and mysterious.

It would be an ordinary alleyway, just like Bdubs.

But it's not.

A luminous, amethyst-coloured light glows intensely. Its so bright that both of the gardeners have to shield there eyes. But that doesn't stop them seeing a huge creature - several eyes and huge, purple wings - enter the portal. Its like a watcher, a nightmarish story that mothers would tell their children to make them stay in bed at night. But that is as all it's. A story...

Right?

Either way, Bdubs is terrified. Etho is, too, but his mask and acting skills do a pretty good job of hiding it. The shorter florist is shaking violently, gripping onto him tightly. An uncomfortable silence fills the air, but Bdubs' ears are ringing so loudly that - if he hears another sound - he thinks he'll explode.

Etho doesn't know what to do. Does he go and tell the police? No, nobody will believe him without photographic evidence. And this man he barely knows is shaking so violently that he's sure that Bdubs will faint.

"Let's go," he mumbles numbly, directing Bdubs back out the alley. "Call me tomorrow, and we can... discuss"

He hands Bdubs a slip of paper with his number and address on it, but he stays with the shorter until he has fully recovered from the shock.

"Ok," he whispers.

And they go their superate ways.

Neither of them really know how to discuss it. It was a terrible start to a night out, that's for sure. And Etho still doesn't know what compelled him to go down that alleyway. He's never been there before, so why now? Why with Bdubs?

Their discussion doesn't yield many answers. Etho went back to the alleyway and it was normal. No portal, no strange creature. Whatever was there that night is gone now. Not a single trace. They agree to go out together on their lunch break, instead. In the sunlight, where monsters are less likely to hide.

It's several nights later when Etho is woken by banging on his door. He's immediately on the defensive, grabbing the closest thing he can use as a weapon (it's... His flashlight. Better than nothing.) But when he peers through the door, he finds Bdubs. A very panicked Bdubs.

He pulls the other in, whilst he apologizes for waking Etho up in the middle of the night but he didn't know where else to go and he still had that paper in his pocket-

Etho gets them both a glass of water, forcing himself to wake up.

Bdubs explains, through wild gestures that have Etho gently moving the glass away, how he was woken up in the middle of the night. Outside his window was that bright, purple glow, just like they saw in the alleyway. And everywhere he looked in the darkness, he swore he could see eyes. Looking at him, all of them staring at him. He freaked out, naturally, because what else do you do in that situation? And in his panic ran out of the building before he even realised what he was doing.

Thankfully, the paper was in the pocket of the hoodie he happened to be wearing. He hadn't even thought to pick his phone up, so he just struggled along until he was able to find Etho's house.

Neither of them know what to make of this. Eventually, Bdubs has calmed down enough to sleep, and he's exhausted. Etho tries to insist that he take the bed, but Bdubs refuses to go down without a fight. That fight turns out to be dragging Etho into the bed with him and clinging to him.

Something is for sure though. Whatever they saw that night, it saw them too.

[coeuranxieux]

I think I've been infected I need to see gravekeeper scream himself hoarse and kick and beg and break only to be comforted right after with a softness that doesn't compute right in his brain after what he's just done.

I want to see him collapse after breaking his room to pieces, clinging to the one thing that helped him and protected him and cut him all these years. I want the realisation of what he's just done to fade in slowly, to come in fragments that he needs to put together through his addled mind.

I want him to, just for a moment, feel pure. Feel relieved that the demons are out of his head, before realising that he's acted more monstrous than ever. Though what does it matter? From the voices he can hear swimming around his broken ears, he knows he's dying.

He wants to be let out of the firm grip holding him, to be left to die alone as he should be. But something in him feels warm from all the attention. He can rest now. It's alright. He'll try... to reach salvation...

He wakes up somewhere. It's not heaven, or hell, or anything in-between. It's disgustingly familiar. There's words thrumming in his head, more legible now as they close in on him. He knows the man grasping his hand with a strange tenderness, but he doesn't have the energy to think of their name. They give him something to drink. It's warm, and it doesn't taste like water. Strange.

They talk at him for a while, before he closes his eyes as he leans into the hands now placed on his face. They ask a question. He responds with a plea. He wants to fall back into his dreams, to not have to face the fact he needs to live more, to not have to think about why the man in front of him is so strangely sad at his tiredness. What comes out is not any of those things.

"P-Please... let me sleep... a little longer... 'm so tired... won't be... long... promise..."

So the man does just that. Lets him lay there, in their hands, until sleep takes him again. He hears a faint sound, like dripping water, as he does.

His head is a little clearer when he wakes up again. He stares at the ceiling, giving up on any hope of salvation. He wants to drift off to sleep again, but something in the back of his head says he shouldn't. He promised. Whatever that means.

There's something wrapped around his arm as it hangs off of the bed. Someone's fingers trace the edges of what he thinks is gauze up and down, spiralling around over and over again.

He tries to wiggle his fingers. The tracing stops. So he pulls his arm away to inspect it, reaching it above him so he can see. He was right. It is gauze. Why? What happened to...?

His thoughts are cut off by a burst of dizzying movement from the side of him. He lays his arm back down, tired eyes now watching the glassy ones of Luca Balsa as they stare in shock. Oh... This is their room, isn't it? Why is he here?

His questions are yet again snapped away as Luca slings their arms around him. The flock of stumbling apologies spoken by Luca as they haul Andrew's aching body into a sitting position hit his ears all at once. He doesn't see why they need to apologise, but he's more focused on something else.

Luca is quite close to him now, refusing to let their darting eyes off him for even a second. Even with his bad eyes, Andrew can see just how sick they look. Their eyes are ringed in red and purple, their hands are shaky as they hold Andrew's shoulders oh so tenderly, and the smile accompanying their giggly words (that now sound much softer) is giddy and strained and broken. They look like they could collapse any second.

But Andrew can't dwell long. Soon questions start to come, and he's left rummaging in his brain for answers. Yes, he does feel tired. No, he won't go to sleep if Luca doesn't want him to so badly. What do you mean he's been sleeping for...

Oh... That's... Much longer than he thought... He's so sorry, he should have never given into—

"I-it's okay, it's fine, you're awake, you're here, every- everything is gonna be okay, please don't leave me like this, p- ple- please please please-"

Luca clings to Andrew like how he used to cling to his mother. He feels like he's just been punched in the throat. He's- he left Luca (his protector, the one that must have taken care of him all this time) alone for so long, without realising.... God, he can't do anything right-

The door to the side of them opens suddenly, making him jump a little. He sees Emil poke their head out from behind it, before smiling. The smile seems happier than usual. Andrew doesn't know why, or why they're smiling at all. Shouldn't they be angry at him for what he did to both of them?

Luca's already starting to talk again, but Emil cuts them off quietly, asking if they or Andrew have eaten yet. Luca snaps up at this, and tells Andrew to stay where he is and to not fall asleep while he's gone before diving out of the room faster than Andrew can process.

Andrew is left alone with Emil, who is thankfully much easier for his brain to handle. Their hands (a saviour's hands, hands that have purified him once and now they will again) wander over his shoulder, twisting his hair around.

Emil talks about Luca. How he had been so upset, so scared for Andrew. How he'd given Andrew gauze so he could know they won't be hurt again.

(Andrew remembers the night his mother died well. That was one of the first things he tried.)

Emil says he's happy that Luca will be alright again. Andrew nods in response. He doesn't know how to word an apology for all of this, but Emil understands. Of course they do. They know him better than he knows himself.

They sit in silence for a while, Andrew making sure to keep himself awake for Luca, before he hears footsteps down the hall rushing towards the door. Emil goes to meet them.

Luca is back. He's brought toasted bread with him, for them all to eat. He's also brought... someone else.

Andrew had never met Alva before. He'd heard things about the man, and they were mostly good things even if they stirred doubt in his mind. He can't stop himself from being nervous, however, when the hunter crouches through the door to the room.

Alva decides sitting on the floor is the best course of action out of the ones available, making sure to leave distance between him and Andrew. (Does he know how nervous they are?)

Andrew is given the bread. Luca seems to be more focused on making sure he eats it than on their own portion, before Alva breaks their attention by starting to talk.

The hunter has a voice that's unmistakably warm. Andrew isn't sure why it makes him feel safer, only that it does. It really does. Andrew can hear him gently questioning Luca, and after finishing his bread finds himself entranced in their conversation.

That conversation soon shifts onto him, as Alva asks what happened. There's no judgment in their question, no lingering hatred or anything to be afraid of. It's just... Soft.

Andrew can't stop himself from rambling, then. He tries to answer as much as he can as his head swims with memories so deep that he barely realises what he's saying.

He was possessed. He'd been possessed for weeks before it happened. Endless visions and voices of demon and ghost and "angel" had tugged at him until his delicate mind fractured. He was desperate to kill the demons clawing at his chest, wandering in his room, burrowing under his skin. It had all been a nasty trick to make him hurt himself. That was the reason.

Alva's smile looks solemn, hearing Andrew's explanation. He says it must have been hellish. They can assure him it was. They could smell the sulphur, see the glowing red, and feel the blood sticky on his fingers. But they don't say anything in response, because that would make the three men in the room pity him even more.

Alva asks something strange, then. "Is it alright if I touch you?" Andrew doesn't know why he has to wait for permission, Andrew's been grabbed in almost every way in his life and they've never asked. But he gives a go-ahead anyway.

The hands that comfort him remind him overwhelmingly of his mother. They're bigger than his own, scarred and wrinkled like hers must have been. Of course, the affection those hands were now giving him helped quite a lot with that.

Andrew finds himself leaning into them, as they seemingly knew he would. Luca is talking again, although Andrew doesn't hear. Alva says he'll wake Andrew up when needed if they fall asleep. Luca doesn't need to worry. How nice of him to do that for Andrew's friend...

Andrew, leaning into the closest thing to his mother's touch in years, dwells on how he doesn't know why or even how he's been saved. Surely the two men who'd been taking care of him for so long would have been a target of these demons too?

...Unless they were something holy. That sounded right. After all, they've purified him more times than he could count...

He decides to think further on it when he wakes up. For now, he needs to relax. To sink into that warmth... just for... a little while...

ahh i love when i get fanfiction in my inbox

this is so so pretty ollie oh my god

[rockitmans]

Blaine Anderson Vs. Valentine's Day (4/14)

Summary: Blaine drunk posts on his Instagram asking for a date for Valentine's Day. He gets one.

Notes: Written for the @klaineccfanficlibrary Valentine Challenge. Today's song is I'll Never Not Love You by Michael Bublé

Be sure to also check out the collection on AO3 and Stick Season by @blurglesmurfklaine I'm finding it so fun to write as part of a community event. Seeing other people post theirs really keeps me on track. And all the lovely comments of course!

Read on AO3 or below

~~~~~~

He can't just leave it like that. Hi. What was he thinking? He quickly taps out a follow up without letting himself doubt it too hard. 

Blaine: Bold tactic to assume that poem would get my attention and not just end up being deleted

He immediately throws his phone face down on his bed and paces around the room several times, trying to breathe. He can do this. He can talk to other humans. Even ridiculously gorgeous ones that for some reason seem interested in him. 

Barely a minute passes before his phone chimes and he tries to tell himself to be chill and not answer straight away but the anticipation is killing him. He grabs his phone. 

Kurt: And yet here you are. Interesting. 

God. He actually answered. And he's so cool . It's going to take him less than thirty seconds to realise how lame Blaine is. Blaine doesn't have game. He doesn't usually even realise when people are into him. He's fallen into every relationship he's had so far fully because the other person has spelled it out to him. 

This was clearly a mistake. A horny error in judgement. He's half tempted to just delete the app right now and pretend this never happened. The Philippines is nice this time of year.  

But then his phone chimes again and Blaine grins stupidly as he reads the message. 

Kurt: It was a gamble. I'm happy it paid off. 

Blaine: Well. It was helped by the fact that I am very interested in these claims that you can pick me up. 

Kurt: Oh no. That was my roommate's suggestion. She's going to be insufferable now. 

Blaine: Your secret's safe with me

Kurt: Thanks. But she's also much cooler than me if I'm being honest. I may prove to be a disappointment. Flirting with strangers on the internet is all fun and games until they actually reply 😅

Blaine blinks. He hadn't thought about it that hard, but if he had, he would have assumed that this was going to turn into sexting, getting off, and then mutually agreeing to never speak of it again. Or at least he assumes that's the way this sort of thing goes. He doesn't really know. 

But maybe that isn't what this is. Interesting.

Blaine: And do you make a habit of flirting with strangers on the internet?

Kurt: I want to be really smooth and be like 'only the cute ones 😉' but fuck it. No I don't usually. I'm like an honest to God Broadway romantic. I need at least dinner before I can consider getting my dick out. 

Kurt: And I realise a simple no would have sufficed 

Blaine huffs out a laugh. Okay. Definitely not sexting then. He's kind of relieved. It would have just been a way to let off steam after the emotional bomb that was Sebastian's betrayal. He hasn't really had time to sort out his feelings about Sebastian yet. Sam's solution to the problem was to get him spectacularly drunk and there's been little time for introspection since then. And that's mostly been on purpose.

He knows if he starts to think about it, it will bring every scrap of his hard earned self worth under a magnifying glass. He'll sort through all his insecurities for the reasons why Sebastian might have cheated and probably invent some new ones just for fun. He doesn't want to be terrified to love again. He doesn't want to lose his ability to love quickly and generously and all in. He doesn't want this to break him. 

And right now that means chatting to a cute guy that doesn't want to just get off with him. And regardless of anything else, it will be a funny story to tell Tina later. 

Blaine: Ah yes that well known Broadway hit, "Dinner for dick." We all know it

Kurt: Say what you like about Barrett Wilbert Weed but she smashed that one

Kurt: Listen you don't have to keep talking to me. I understand my mouth was putting out checks that my ass can't cash. Literally. 

Blaine: I want to keep talking to you. A gorgeous guy that's into Broadway and fashion? Maybe that wish journal I kept when I was thirteen really did have magical powers after all

Blaine: Although I'm still not a superhero so perhaps not 

Kurt: I never had a wish journal but I did have a hope chest. I cut up magazine pictures to compile my perfect man and it obviously looked outlandish and not like you at all

Kurt: But I am pretty sure I made my perfect man a musician 

Blaine: Well thank God I have that going for me at least

Kurt: You have a lot more going for you than that

Blaine: And I thought you said you didn't flirt with strangers on the internet 😉

Kurt: You're right

Blaine gets a jolt in his stomach, terrified that Kurt is about to promise to cut out the flirting or even stop talking to him all together. But then the next message comes through.

Kurt: Maybe we should become not-strangers so I can flirt with you without fear 

Blaine bites his lip against a smile, feeling the flush creep all the way to his ears. Who even is this guy?

Hopefully he's going to find out. 

Blaine: Sounds perfect 

[bacchicly]

19 (or more) Kisses Deep

For @darcyfangirlsfrequently

Ship: Garvez (of course)

Summary: It's Luke's Birthday and surprises are in store...a sweet little ficlet for an amazing Garvez writer and all round awesome Darcy! Happy Birthday, Eh?

Words: 1400ish (not all mine - some belong to Leonard Cohen)

🎵🎶…takes you down….to her place by the river…🎶🎵

"So just so I understand, son…" Rossi's eyes twinkle as he raises both his eyebrows and his glass in a mock toast. "...you are doing all this as a surprise for Penelope to celebrate YOUR birthday? I am not criticising - but I have never seen anyone concentrate so hard on making crustless cucumber sandwiches in my life." 

At the mention of Penelope, Luke can't help but break into a sheepish goofy grin. Rossi is right - it is crazy.

🎵🎶…and you know that she's half-crazy but that's why you want to be there 🎶🎵

Luke wipes his hands on the "Kiss the cook twice - I'm Italian!" apron the older agent passed to him wordlessly about an hour ago when he first invaded Rossi's kitchen with a large cardboard box of groceries, a "Best of Leonard Cohen" CD, and a "thank you" bottle of scotch. 

🎵🎶 And just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her - 🎶🎵

The lyric seeps its meaning into Luke's brain - dissolving his smile - and prompting him to grab his beer and take a long pull… no wonder he can't convince Penny he honestly loves her.  Poets. Bah.  Always making things so complicated.  Give him the Beatles any day over this dross "With a love like that you know you should be glad." Simple.  To the point.  Poetry. Why does she adore this dumb Canadian crooner anyways?  

"Hey.  Watch your mouth you chuckle-head, no speaking ill of the Lord Byron of Rock'n'Roll. We had some very interesting conversations in '77, I'll have you know."

Luke didn't even realise he had spoken aloud.  

🎵🎶 Then she gets you on her wavelength...And she lets the river answer that you've always been her lover 🎶🎵

"Sorry.  I didn't know you knew him personally."

"Don't worry about it.  What you should worry about is those scones - they are smelling like they might be just about done."

Luke's eyes widen in slight panic, sets down his bottle with a thunk, and spins to check on the oven where his strawberry streusel scones have been cheerfully baking for the last 19 minutes. He sighs with relief when, after yanking open the oven, it's clear from the delicious smell, the perfectly browned tops, and Rossi's chuckles - they are perfect.  

"Use the oven mitts!" says Rossi as he tosses a red quilted pair at Luke - who naturally grabs them out of the air and tugs them on grinning.  

"Yes, sir!"

Luke pulls the pan of scones out of the oven.  Breathing in deeply and he grins like an idiot to himself as he carefully moves the toothsome wedges to the cooling wrack.  He even starts to hum…

🎵🎶And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind, And then you know that you can trust her...For she's touched your perfect body with her mind 🎶🎵

Hmm maybe there is a reason why Penelope likes this guy so much…

The song ends and another starts - low and slow - and Luke turns back to the cucumber sandwiches.  He'll finish them and then start on the pinwheels - cream cheese and maraschino cherry - and then do some apricot chickpea curry endive boats to round out the table.  

🎵🎶 If you want a lover -I'll do anything you ask me to 🎶

He should probably pre-boil the water too so that he can warm the tea pot just before she arrives too.  

🎶🎵…If you want a partner, take my hand, or If you want to strike me down in anger…🎶🎵

Ok...yes. Maybe...maybe... this guy does know a thing or two….chuckling over the memory of Penelope storming at him over something or other.

🎵🎶 Here I stand. I'm your man. 🎶🎵

Luke's hands still as the next lines wash over him.

🎵🎶 If you want a boxer...I will step into the ring for you 🎶🎵

Yep.  Definitely knows a thing or maybe nineteen.

🎵🎶 And if you want a doctor...I'll examine every inch of you...If you want a driver, climb inside...Or if you want to take me for a ride...You know you can! I'm your man. 🎶🎵

He shivers at the thought of examining every inch of her…of insides… of rides…

This had better work.  It's his last Hail Mary.  If, after today, Penelope is not willing to give him a chance… a real chance this time....

…well, that will truly be the end of it, won't it? 

His heart rebels at the thought and the song echos the frustrating truth: for him? There will never be an end.

🎵🎶…And I'd howl at your beauty...like a dog in heat...and I'd claw at your heart...and I'd tear at your sheet...I'd say please (Please)...I'm your man 🎶🎵

His hand tightens around the handle of the knife he was using to slice off the last cucumber sandwich crusts.  Why doesn't she get that this is it for him?  That she's it for him.  That he's…he's…her man?

🎵🎶 If you want a father for your child...or only want to walk with me a while across the sand - I'm your man 🎶🎵

Oh Hell.  True.  All true.  All desperately outrageously frustratingly gloriously true.

The song pulses under his ruminations - pulsing and pleading - begging for any crumb… weirdly strong in it's subservience…

🎵🎶 I'm your man 🎶🎵 

The final cords swell and ebb away… and in the beat between tracks he-

"Newb-Luke-Birthday Boy???  What are you doing here?"

Luke's head snaps up and he stares.

It's like thinking of her has summoned her.  

She is wearing the outfit she was wearing the day she met Roxy - all oranges and yellow sunshine  …the day he knew he was a goner….. and just like she always crashes into his life - awkwardly sweetly infuriatingly - she is here early and is carrying some giant box of something or other.  And as usual… he's not ready - caught off guard - consumed…but can't help but grin like an idiot as his heart starts to do it's joyful Penelope-wiggle-of-joy.  

Damn.  I'm HER man.

"What am I doing here?  What are you doing here?  ROSSI?!?!?"

The older agent appears behind a sputtering Penelope and then with a too-innocent too-indulgent too-self-sastified curl of his lips - the pompous ass that is David Rossi shugs into his coat, turns on his heel, and jangles his car keys in the universal sign of "I'm going out".

Penelope is now the one spinning on her heel - echoing Luke's "Rossi!" but her boss cuts her off.

"You're both very welcome.  Now be good, kids. Help yourself to anything you can find. I'll be back at midnight.  Lock up when you leave and don't turn into any pumpkins!"

The next song is well begun now and they watch helpless as Unit Chief David Rossi literally waltzes out on them - shamelessly adding his baritone to Cohen's bass… "...take this waltz, take this waltz! With its very own breath of brandy and death!"

Penelope spins back to Luke - but slowly - gathering her thoughts. 

Why is he here? He wasn't supposed to arrive until much later.  She was supposed to decorate and everyone was supposed to arrive and then Matt was supposed to swing by with him on the way home from a birthday dinner with "Uncle Luke" and they were all going to jump out and yell surprise and Emily had ordered a cake and…. Well apparently something else is happening… those Sneaky Mc Sneakertons!

"Luke?  What's going on?"

"I…I…I think…"

🎵🎶 There's a concert hall in Vienna...Where your mouth had a thousand reviews 🎶🎵

"...I think…I think our team is as tired as I am of waiting." 

And with that Luke puts down the knife, pushes himself away from the counter, crosses to his bambi-eyed love, takes the box and set it on the floor, and then draws her into his arms, their eyes lock, their hands clasp, and their lips tingle as they sway into a kitchen waltz.

🎵🎶 And I'll dance with you in Vienna...I'll be wearing a river's disguise...The hyacinth wild on my shoulder...my mouth on the dew of your thighs 🎶🎵

They move as though they have always danced…always will dance…close and smiling…Penelope tilting to smile up at him…Luke tilting his head to breath her in…

🎵🎶 Oh my love, oh my love...Take this waltz, take this waltz...It's yours now, it's all that there is 🎶🎵

And they come to a stop and finally finally their lips meet in a slow deep kiss filled with promise. 

When they part - Penelope's eyes are closed and she is so so still…

"Pen?"

And with that Penelope can't help but twinkle up at him and lean in to whisper…

"Apparently you're Italian and I am supposed to kiss you twice."

And so…she does.  

…although they hardly stop at two.

🎵🎶 There ain’t no cure…there ain’t no cure… there ain’t no cure for love. 🎶🎵

[enchantedlandcoffee]

3. “It’s always been you, and it will always be you. Please never forget that.”

Thanks anon! I had fun writing this one!

--

“You heading home, mate?” Liam asked as the movie ended. softly nudging Zayn to wake him up.

“Is it alright if I just kip here, Payno?” Louis answered, taking a sip of his beer as he stretched his legs out, having been sitting on them for the majority of the movie.

“You sure, Lou? You’re only down the hall and I’m sure Harry’d be worried if you didn’t come home?”

“Nah, I'm sure he'll be just fine by himself for one night. Besides, I’m pretty sure Nick’s over there.” Louis drawled, finishing off his beer as he searched his pockets for his phone. Liam winced at the bitter tone in his friend’s voice.

“Call him at least, Lou. The last thing we need is Harry banging on my door because you didn't come home' Liam pleaded, picking up a sleepy Zayn and heading towards their room, leaving Louis sprawled out in the living room, searching the sofa for his phone.

“You know you’re not my dad right?” He called, hearing a chuckle from Zayn and a groan from Liam.

“I don’t hear the phone ringing!” Liam yelled back at him and Zayn disappeared into their room, Zayn calling a ‘Night Lou!’ before the door slammed shut.

“‘Call him,’ he says.” Louis mocked, finally fishing his phone out of the couch cushions. "I'll call him alright." He winced at the brightness of his screen, thumbing through his contacts. Since when did he know this many people? Aha, Harold. Giving himself a silent cheer, he pressed the call button, placing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he stood up, heading towards the kitchen. He rifled through the fridge, praying that the call would go to voicemail.

“Hello?” A gruff voice answered, causing Louis to nearly drop the bottle of water he was holding.

“Harry?”

"Lou? Why are you calling me at 2 in the morning? Aren't you in the other room?"Louis winced at the mention of the time, his previous anger switching into a feeling of guilt at the premise of waking Harry up.

“Shit! I’m so sorry Haz! I didn’t realise what time it was. I’ll let you get back to sleep.” He hurried, moving to grab his phone.

“Lou, it’s fine. What were you calling for? I’m assuming the phone call means that you didn’t come home last night?”

Louis sighed and closed the fridge quietly, hopping up onto the nearest kitchen stool.

“I thought I’d stay at Liam and Zayn’s tonight. You know, give you two some space.” He answered, fiddling with the label on the bottle.

“I mean- that’s nice of you but- wait. What do you mean ‘you two’?” 

“You know- you and Nick. I know that you guys had a date tonight- last night. Though I’m not sure why you didn’t just have it today- what with it being Valentines and all that.” Louis stated, brow furrowing in confusion. He remembered Nick messaging him that night about his plans with Harry and his subtle request to ‘vacate the apartment for the night’. The message being the cause of his dramatic exit from his flat and the spontaneous movie night he’d convinced his friends to join. 

“Lou,” He heard Harry sigh, picturing his friend sitting up in their- his bed and running his hands through his hair, “I didn’t have a date with Nick tonight. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You could have, you know.” Louis whispered, the next sentence killing him to add “it’s my fault we’re not together anymore. You should be able to date who you please- someone who makes you happy. Not someone who causes an argument over the stupidest thing.” He heard a muffled sob, his heart instantly breaking for the other boy.

“Lou, I don’t want to date anyone else. It's always been you and it always will be you. Please never forget that.” Harry’s voice was particularly stable as he reassured Louis, no sign of wavering or a sob.

“But Nick asked me to leave…” Louis trailed off, noticing the anguish in his own voice as he realised the tears that had pooled in his eyes.

“Can you come home now?” Harry asked, laughter evident in his tone, “I swear it will all make sense when you get here.”

Louis nodded, forgetting that Harry couldn’t see him and hung up the phone, jumping off the stool and sending a quick text to Liam explaining everything. He rushed out of the flat and down the hall, fumbling with his keys to open the door.

“Lou?” He heard Harry call, as he locked the door and entered the living room, immediately seeing photos dangling from various surfaces. He wandered around the room slowly, not seeing his boy waddle out of the bedroom wrapped in a duvet. 

“I asked Nick to get you out of the house for a bit,” Harry admitted, pulling the duvet tightly around himself, “he and Niall volunteered to help me get you back. We thought you’d only be gone for a few hours, hence the candles and food.”  Harry gestured to the picnic basket Louis had overlooked. “The plan was to remind you of the amazing times we had together, and then at midnight I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend again.” The young boy mumbled, taking in Louis’ expression.  Louis quickly crossed the room, enveloping the taller boy in a tight hug. 

“Yes, a million times yes!” He answered, pulling back from Harry only to kiss the younger boy. “Happy Valentine’s babe.”

[angelsberrymilk]

Dean and Soldier Boy start an insane pissing contest for the stupidest things, bc they both need to prove they are the alpha male of the group,

And they always end up involving poor Sammy even though he doesn't want to 😭😭

thanks so much for the ask, anon! It's a little messy and chaotic but I hope these two goobers will entertain you regardless! :D

They're so chaotic together, the worst of duos, it's so awful haha!

Whenever Sam finds a case and gets ready to leave, Dean wants to go with him even though Sam will probably go with Castiel or Eileen, Dean may let Sam go for some alone time too, but in this case, he won't, because Soldier Boy immediately suggests he should go with Sam to kill monsters because clearly it's a dangerous job and he needs looking after in case things go south! Dean and Soldier Boy start arguing and Sam gives up, so he sneaks out of the bunker and they (together!) hunt him down, and he never does it again lol.

Soldier Boy makes fun of Dean for using guns to kill monsters, like oh yeah, this will definitely work, and Dean gets offended like WOOOWWW, YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR 5 DAYS SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Soldier Boy sees Dean use a gun and sees him shoot a witch point blank in the head, and he scoffs, "I can do that," (he can't). So Dean dares him to shoot these targets with a gun and Soldier Boy refuses to do it cuz apparently his grip is too strong and he'll break the thing. he's just bullshitting really, and Dean says, "Your name is soldier boy, what type of soldier doesn't know how to shoot?"

ohhh it gets on SB's nerves, my guy has only picked up guns for funsies, never actually used them, i mean, why use a weapon when he had a shield and his knuckles? and power blasts? he is the weapon.

Dean goes out grocery shopping one day, and comes back w a treat for Sammy, his favourite soda drink from when he was a kid, and Sammy is thankful and appreciates the gesture and SB is like "What the fuck? that's not his favourite?" well, turns out that Sammy has a new favourite that he always looked for in those motel vending machines when he was in SB's world, and Dean gets so maaaaadddd. And they start arguing and they ask Sam which one is his favourite, when technically he has 2 faves, one when he was little and now that he's grown up, so he goes, "Both?"

wrong answer. because now they're really going at it, two dumb guys arguing over Sam's choice in soda flavour and brand. so Sam just sneaks out of the room, leaving them alone with steam coming out of their ears.

something breaks in the bunker and Sam asks for some help to fix it, and dean comes to the rescue, maybe it's a door stuck, or a really old pipe, and SB just stands there, watching Dean sweat and struggle to unstick the heavy metal door or something. When it doesn't go anywhere, Sam looks at SB and Dean's heart falls to his ass. SB smirks and easily unsticks the door from the frame like it was nothing.

shit gets real serious when Sam realises that Dean is actually starting to eat less burgers and pie, and more greens and working out too (???) because SB is well built and Dean has never hit a gym in his life.

Sam realises he HAS to do something.

(if they were all fucking separately, Sam will try his hardest to not let them touch him, ban them from his holes until they try to get along)

.

.

.

tags

@klingyklaus @toasty-broski @28confusedthoughts @winchesterdefender @blackkmariah @106skin @redpopcat @arwenadreamer @nguyetdahuong @asongfortheunloved @rancidlovers @bcatwinchest @supfan67 @unabashedhonesty @hellfire-fist @nanacupid @arthrodira @loserluizard @jocelynfan @waywardsamdean @sastielbeltscene @sam-sinchester @masoena @winchestermylove @sammybeann @azrielrose @saltmonellas @boypussysam @monkibizznes @daddysboydean @notanotherthembo @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @katamcauley @sams-princess-hair @redcl8ver @yuetyin940 @loserluizard @arthrodira @runawaydr3amerao3 @giulmu @palepuppytimetravel @waynesmywife @rerejunebug @winbred @friendlyneighbourhoodfreak

[whumpcloud]

Mi Corazón

taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @gala1981 @whump-in-the-moonlight

content: mostly emotional whump, toxic relationships, references to smoking, drugging, whumpee thinking they deserve the whump, very brief knife whump at the end

Charlie breaks her pencil between her fingers. The underlying sketch isn't turning out right at all. If Derian was here, she would be able to actually get it right.

She doesn't know why she's drawing him. He's gone, he left three weeks ago, and she's sure this is the last argument. Derian screamed loud enough to hurt her ears, all the usual insults and curses, and stormed out without even taking his jacket.

He stole all the cigarettes though, like an asshole.

Charlie sighs, bites her lip, and pulls out her phone. If he's gone anywhere, he's gone to his dad's.

"Heya," Simón answers.

"Is Derian there?" Charlie asks.

"...sorry," Simón sighs. "I haven't heard from him at all."

"Oh." Charlie picks at the loose thread of her sweater. "Thanks anyway."

"When did he leave?"

"Couple weeks ago."

"Charlie, honey," Simón says, in that soft, sympathetic tone. "I really don't think you should wait for him, this time."

Charlie makes a sound that's almost a laugh. "Your kid, Mr Rodriquez."

"I know, I know," Simón says, and Charlie can tell he's rolling his eyes. "But I know what Derian's like. He'll turn up, but… he's been gone for months before. And the two of you…"

"Yeah," Charlie mumbles. We've never been good for each other. "I know. I just… I miss him."

"You always do."

It's just the exhale, really. After taking a breath, the sleepy whispers of mi corazón in the morning, the jokes of draw me like one of your French girls whenever Charlie has a new project for school, the soft kisses and mumbling I love you, Derian has let it out again, let everything fall apart and left Charlie to pick up the pieces.

She's tired.

"I'll, um, I'll talk to you later, Mr Rodriquez," Charlie says. "Tell me if he shows up, yeah?"

"Alright." Simón wants to hug the poor kid. "Take care of yourself."

Charlie puts her phone down and screams into her sleeves. She hates missing him. It only plays into every destructive tendency of Derian's, every time he comes crawling back with another apology and more promises that he never keeps.

She has to draw a line somewhere. If he comes back, she has to tell him to leave this time. It's her apartment. She's allowed to do that. It doesn't matter where he goes, as long as he's gone.

Derian can die in a fucking ditch for all Charlie cares. Maybe he has already.

Charlie calls him.

"Derian Rodriquez, I'll call you back later!"

He won't. Charlie hangs up and calls him again.

"Derian Rodriquez, I'll call you back later!"

Charlie calls him again.

Nicolas smiles, dangling Derian's phone out of his reach. "Who's Charlie, pretty boy? And give me an answer the first time."

"M-my boyfriend," Derian mumbles. The world is swimming with the sedative in his blood. "Don't- Don't answer it."

Nicolas smirks, and picks up. "Hello?"

Charlie's eyes widen. "U-Um. Hi? Is Derian there?"

"He's busy." Nicolas puts his hand over Derian's mouth to muffle him. "You looking for him?"

"Y-Yeah, he…" Charlie clears her throat. "Um. Who are you?"

"Nicolas." Nicolas stares Derian dead in the eyes. "His boyfriend."

Oh.

She didn't matter, did she? This whole time… how long? How long did he have someone else? Who was first? Has she been a… a side piece this entire time? When he disappeared, did he just go fuck with someone else for a while? Does this person even know about her? Would they even care if she mentioned she's supposed to be Derian's boyfriend?

Derian is slamming his fists against Nicolas' chest, but he's barely more than annoyance. He can't even lift his arms above his head. Nicolas is breaking Charlie's heart, and Derian is right there, and he can't do a thing about it.

"R-Right." Charlie realises it's been a little too long since she said anything, and swallows. "Just, um, tell him I say hi. And that we should hang out."

Nicolas grins. "Will do!"

Charlie hangs up first.

"Was that fun?" Nicolas asks, staring down at Derian in his lap. "I had fun."

"You bastard," Derian snarls, but it's pointless protest. "You- y-you…"

"I made it so that nobody is looking for you," Nicolas says, and tilts Derian's chin up to look at him. "Means we've got all the time in the world with you, pretty boy."

Derian bites the inside of his cheek, tears welling up in his eyes. He hates that Nicolas is right. Even if he turned up, Charlie would tell him to leave, and she'd… be right to.

Even without this. That she believed what Nicolas said proves what Derian has always known - he was never good to her. She deserves better than him. And he can't help thinking, when Nicolas starts to cut patterns into his skin, that he deserves this.

[mandoalorian]

Brown Eyes [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 15, SEASON 2. !!

*Hi. The episode has been out for three hours. The devil works hard but I work harder. I hope you enjoy! xx*

Summary: Din has always wanted to confess his love to you— but with his devotion to the Creed and with the risk of losing you, he wonders if the revelation would really be worth it. Would you even consider being with him if he refused to remove his helmet? When Grogu is taken away from Din and in the fiendish hands of Moff Gideon, Din realises there isn't anything he won't do to get his son back.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: descriptions of anxiety, *SPOILERS FOR Season 2 Episode 15: The Believer of The Mandalorian*

Word count: 2.6k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos

Masterlist

gif credit: @siennablake

"Din," you froze up, backing away from the Imperial who was sitting at a table drinking caf. "I- I can't do it."

Din's head snapped to face you, masked by the Imperial Shocktrooper helmet he was doting. "Why not?" His voice was firm, but the tone of his question dripped with concern. You bawled your fingers into a fist as you squeezed your eyes tight shut, beginning to anxiously pace around in circles.

"That's Valen Hess," you muttered, trying your hardest to regulate your nervous breathing. "He- I used to serve under him. I- can't… go in there. Din, he'll recognise me." the thoughts in your head were jumbled. Din placed two hands steady on your shoulders.

"I'll go, hand me the dataspike." Din told you calmly. You felt like putty under his touch. Usually, his firm grip would calm you down and ease any of your troubles away— but not this time. You felt completely nauseated.

Grogu was at stake. When you met the Mandalorian, it took him some time to find the confidence in introducing you to the child. You were Ex-Imperial after all. But he warmed up to you, seeing the way you cared so deeply for the children on Sorgan. When he introduced you to the little green bean, who did not yet have a name, you were enamoured. That's when Din knew he was in love with you. Ever since that day, he'd only fallen in love with you more and more. His feelings became stronger with every waking second he spent with you.

Of course, he never acted on his feelings. He wished he had, he wished he could say something. He knew that if something happened to you and you didn't know how he truly felt, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. There had been countless times where you and him brushed paths on the Razor Crest. Plenty of times to say something, plenty of times to mutter the three words that had consumed his mind, body and soul. ‘I love you’. The words were like a broken record in the back of his mind. He looked at you through his visor, seeing your distress and his heart aching and he wanted— no, he had to do something.

His son had been kidnapped and suddenly, Din was an unstoppable force. Nothing could hold him back— not his friends, not the Creed, nothing. The regret ate him up like flies on a corpse. If there was one thing he learned from Grogu's disappearance, is that you never know what is coming around the corner. Din began to treat everyday with you like it was your last because there was no way of telling what the future was holding. And that only stirred him on, the desire of telling you how much you meant to him.

"You can't go," you removed your finger from your lips where you had been anxiously biting your nails. "The security system is biometric facial recognition. There must be another way." you tried to rack your brain for a solution, but Din's mind was already made up.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes in search for an answer. You steadied your breathing. "Din," you whispered. "What if we distract them? You go in there and speak to him so he's looking the other way and I'll use that moment to sneak past and access the terminal."

No answer. "Din?" you asked, cautiously opening your eyes. He was already gone. Your mouth began to open and close like a goldfish as you watched his approach the terminal. He paused, midway between two tables, shakily saluting Valen Hess. Din turned back to the terminal, held his head up high and carried on over to it.

Upon examining it, Din found it was no different to any other information point— whether it had been New Republic or Independent, Din was lucky enough to already know how to navigate the system. He clicked a few buttons on the keypad, bringing up the facial recognition scanner. He stood still, letting it roam down his face. He didn't have much faith, but it was worth a shot.

Din cursed under his breath as the scanner light lit up red, beeping ecstatically.

"Error. Error. Facial scanning incomplete. Ten seconds until system shutdown." An automated voice informed. Din felt a few gazes burn into his back, no doubt Valen Hess noticing the commotion. "Ten, nine, eight-"

You watched as the timer went down, your hand fingers curling around the blaster in your holster. You didn't know what Din was going to, but you knew if anything— he was a man with a plan.

And that was when he removed his helmet.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, it took the air from your lungs leaving you gasping in silence. You felt like a criminal, looking at him with your own eyes. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't tear the gaze from the back of his head.

Brown hair. Dark brown hair, slightly messy from the helmet. Although you were some distance away, you noticed the little waves and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. The cut of the Imperial armour revealed just a sliver of his skin. It was golden tan— surprising to you.

"Facial scanning complete." The dataspike ejected from the terminal, a small light lit up in green, validating that the information had been processed and Din was now the owner of Moff Gideon’s co-ordinates. Just as he was about to put his helmet back on, a voice interrupted him.

Your heart sank when you saw that Valen Hess had approached Din.

"Trooper, where are you stationed?"

"Transportation."

"What?"

"My designation is transport— co-pilot."

"No son, what's your TK number?"

Din felt his throat dry up as he looked the man in the eyes. Valen Hess stared at Din right back, looking into the eyes that nobody had gazed into since Din had been sworn to the Creed. Din swallowed the lump in his throat, only for it to return immediately.

"He's with me." you announced, walking over to Din and Hess. A wash of relief shuttled through Din's body upon hearing your voice, but that was completely blown away when he realised you had seen him. It was true, you had seen his face— but there was no time to act up. Din had sacrificed everything for Grogu and you weren't going to let this go wrong. "This is my trooper, sir."

"Who is he and what's his TK number?" Valen Hess repeated, clicking his tongue between his teeth.

"This is my commanding officer TK-0402, and I'm TK-0322. I'm afraid he doesn't speak much. Ever since his vessel lost pressure on Tanaab." You explained with confidence, sighing apologetically and placing a hand on your hip.

Din found the courage to look at you, making brief yet bewildered glances between you and Valen Hess. He had a thousand questions but he knew he could trust you, and so, he smiled wearily, nodding his head in agreement to your little story.

"What's his name?" Hess inquired.

You took a deep breath, and turned to face Din. He looked at you too, his face softening as your eyes met for the very first time. You felt your heart rate slow down as you took in his appearance. You were nervous, and tensions were high, but as you looked into the Mandalorian's sparkling eyes, you felt a familiar sense of belonging. You felt complete.

"Brown eyes." you whispered, feeling the tears pool up as you tried to choke back a sob. Din smiled at you, just a small smile, but enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. It gave you the reassurance to know that this was all worth it.

"Well, brown eyes," Valen Hess adjusted his belt. "You troopers were both on the transport that brought in the valium, correct? The only surviving shocktroopers, might I add." he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah, that was us." You answered hesitantly.

"Please, come join me for drinks. We must celebrate." Hess said, approaching the table he was originally sat at and ushering you over with an exaggerated gesture.

You and Din exchanged a look before walking over to the table and sinking down into the chair. Hess poured out two cups of caf and slid them over. Din stayed silent for most of the conversation, briefly making utterances of affirmation and nodding his head to suggest that he was indeed listening.

Although, he wasn't listening really. His mind was racing and he couldn't concentrate on anything. Although it wasn't necessarily true, he felt like every head in the room was looking at him. Staring at him. Judging him breaking his oath. Was he a failure? Was he a disgrace to the Creed? Dishonourable? A monster?

"I could blather on 'to health' or 'to success', but… tell me TK-0322, where do you come from?"

"Alderaan." you said without hesitation. Din looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, wondering why exactly you had given Hess the details of your real planet.

"Ah, I see…" Hess frowned. "Well, to Alderaan!" he grinned, raising his glass in the air.

"No." you deadpanned and Hess shot you a confused look.

"No?"

"No." you repeated. "Alderaan was a peaceful planet destroyed by the Empire."

"And those on the Death Star, those who aided in the destruction of Alderaan became heroes of the Empire. I was there." he said with pride.

Din watched your face harden as your cheeks burned up with rage. "Heroes?" you croaked out. "For attacking and murdering innocents? Hundreds of thousands of people died on Alderaan. I lost my family."

"Losing the ones we love is simply part of life," Hess revealed with a sigh— and Din felt his heart shatter at his words. He stiffened up, his gaze fixating on the concrete wall as his surroundings began to faze out.

"At what cost?" you whispered. "You know, every day I think about it. I wished there was something I could do to stop it. But no, I was here, fighting for the Empire. While the Empire was out killing my people." You gritted out as tears pricked your eyes. You felt Dins hand manouver under the table and take place on your thigh, as his gloved fingers rubbed comforting circles into the thin material that covered your skin. His hand was large, fitting around your leg perfectly. He held you down, stopping your anxious shaking and you immediately calmed down. Din wasn't going to stop you, but he did want you to not let your feelings intrude on what was really happening right now. Valen Hess, however, looked mortified. You picked up the glass and forced a smile. Din copied your movement and you clinked your glass with his. "To family." you toast, and Din smiles. He smiles so wide a dimple appears in his cheek.

"To family." he confirms, thinking about his son and how close he was to getting him back.

You put the glass of caf back down on the table and quickdrew your blaster, shooting Valen Hess in the chest.

Din knew better than to question you. He took out his own pistol and helped you take down the remaining troopers and Imps in the room before you both raced out of the base.

Of course, you knew that there'd be commotion. You heard the TIE fighter engines as soon as you stepped foot outside. Din grabbed your hand, pulling you along as you both sprinted into the depths of the forest. Once deep enough, you looked up. It was dark, strings of light beaming through the gaps in the trees. But it was enough to illuminate Din. You had envisioned what Din looked like beneath his beskar helmet every single day, and now, you had your answer.

Din took one look at you. He pulled off his leather gloves, dropping them to the ground and placed his hand on your cheek. Subconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his palm as his fingers tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, humming in delight as his bodily warmth transferred to you.

"Din, when we return to the ship you can put your helmet back on. I never saw you." you promised, your voice barely above a whisper and your eyes remaining closed.

"Cyare," Din mumbled, his heart yearning. The pad of his thumb traced your face, following the height of your cheek bones and the arch of your eyebrows and down your nose. "Open your eyes." he requested. Cautiously, you obeyed, your eyes fluttering open as you drunk in his appearance once more.

Brown stubble with a patch of grey graced the lower portion of his face. You reached out, this time your own hand cupping his cheek. Din didn't let go of you, and he let you touch him. Your finger nervously brushed over the coarse hairs and you let out a small giggle as you remembered him telling you from the Fresher room on the Razor Crest that he was going to shave. He had, and now you could see for yourself that it had started growing back.

"Do… do you like what you see?" Din asked nervously, his gaze only temporarily lifting from yours.

You nodded your head. "I do," you admitted. "You're… so handsome."

Din felt his cheeks heat up as you watched the small blush creep upon his face. You were enthralled, seeing him like this. Seeing his humanity— his emotions and expressions. You knew you loved Din, with or without the helmet— but this confirmed everything.

"May I?" Din asked, leaning into you slowly and closing his eyes. The curve of his nose bumped against yours as and the softness of his lips touched you so delicately.

You mumbled a small 'yes' and as your lips parted, Din kissed you. Soft, sweet, but passionate and with heart. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging at it and encouraging Din to kiss you deeper and further. He done so, willingly, a groan of pleasure escaping his mouth and vibrating through your body.

He pulled away eventually, breathless and his eyes dark and glazed. "I-I…" he was speechless, looking at you with the utmost adoration. "I love you." He sighed in defeat, knowing now was a better time than any to admit his true feelings. He had to do it one day, and it just so happened to be in the depths of a forest as you hid from Imperials.

"I love you too." you exhaled shakily, thrusting forward into his arms and letting him hold you tight to his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair.

"I love you so much." Din sobbed, his grip around you tightening like he was afraid that if he let go, you'd vanish just like Grogu did. "Please, never leave me. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere Din," you promised. "Now c’mon, let's go get Grogu."

PART TWO

[his-saiko]

The Summoning

— The Other Side

"Take me to the other side."

You weren't supposed to be anywhere near this man's path. But there was something about you that seems so compelling. Curiosity? Lust? Threat? He just has to know. Whatever it is, there's one thing he is definitely set on. He wants you and he's not so easily distracted from that goal.

— Hawks x f!oc/reader. Friends? Dabi x f!oc/reader. Friends.

C/Tw. themes of harm, themes of mental issues, intrusive thoughts [All possible triggering content will be enclosed in !'s

1.5k

You took time to recover from your shutdown and have used the time to think about what to do with what you know. The right thing to do would be to report the authorities but how would you explain how you got that information? You weren't exactly abducted and you got out alive. You sigh. It is just as heavy as your own thoughts.

"You could try to figure it out on your own." "Like a detective?" "Detective work feels like a hassle." You get ready to go out and see both the feather and the tracker phone on your desk. "Wouldn't hurt to leave those alone." You tell yourself. Is there really any reason to keep in touch with both? You can always pretend like nothing happened, that you've never met them. Just as you've always done.

You make the call. "Hello? I'd like to go if the offer is still available."

You wait at the corner of the street to be picked up. A car comes up to you and someone comes out. It wasn't anyone you recognise but your distrust must be within their expectations. They introduced themselves as your driver and gave you the information you need to trust them for the moment at least.

"So he'll know if I go missing?" You play it off as a joke but it was a genuine concern of it still.

They say yes.

You get in the car and let them drive you to the place. You fidget with your clothes as you anticipate your arrival. You consciously make an effort to make yourself look and feel calm.

The driver helps you out of the car and you were greeted by those who are supposed to be assisting you. Your eyes scan but you don't see him anywhere. You breathe out. "I guess it's for the best..."

"L/n Y/n?"

"Yes?" You turn but saw no one but a brooding man with an intense gaze. You lower your head to avoid his eyes then see a small white heteromorph.

"I'm Nezu. You must be the one Hawks contacted me about. Are you ready to register your quirk?"

"Uhm. Yes, but I don't have much control over it since it manifested so late." "What's the etiquette of talking to a person this small?"

"That's okay. You don't have to worry about losing control. We have someone who can take care of that."

You follow the peculiar person down the hall. "You mean Hawks?"

"No. Aizawa." He gestures towards the brooding man.

"Oh."

You did all sorts of tests. Some have been more difficult than others. Like, the needle not being to break your skin. But worse than all of them, was when you were put in a room with someone asking you questions about your life and childhood that you don't even remember anymore. You look in the mirror. This isn't like any other psych evaluation.

"Dr..."

"Just a few more minutes." He reassures. "How are you feeling?"

"Like you need to get out and bring the man who could stop me from losing control of my quirk." You answer but the tone of pleading escaped your throat. "Please!"

You rise from your seat and hold onto your chest. You can't breathe.

"It's okay. Why don't we try to calm down together."

You feel a presence coming towards you so you scream and swing your arm but your arm got caught in what looked like a bandage. You realise that you can't activate your quirk. You follow the cloth and see the brooding man from before.

He quickly let you go.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I was scared!"

"It's okay. We can stop here."

You have a weighted blanket over you as you wait by the lobby.

"Is she still here? Y/n!"

You turn to the voice and see the pro-hero coming towards you. "Sorry. I couldn't come sooner. I was held up in work. Did anything happen?"

You shake your head but you feel tears forming and threatening to make themselves known. "I think I messed up." You babble then bury your face in your hands.

Hawks chuckles a bit. "I think you're supposed to, Y/n. If you didn't the data might not be accurate."

"They didn't even do anything. I just panicked."

"You think you need some air?"

Hawks flies you to the top of the hospital. You sit down on the floor and breathe in and out deeply.

Both of you stay silent, but there was an agreement between you two as well. You both want to ask about being with the villains.

"Y/n—" "Hawks—"

"Oh—" "Oh—" You both chuckle and fall silent.

"About the villains—"

"I trust you." You immediately say. "Whatever your reason, I trust you. Even if we take different paths, I trust you." The words become heavier in your heart as you repeat them.

"I'll always get to you when you need me." Hawks smiles though very different from the ones he puts on for the masses. "Count on it."

"Oho~ She came back," Toga comments as she sees you.

"Dabi's little girlfriend?" Twice asks as he peeks from the door.

"Girlfriend?" You repeat in confusion. "Little??" You look at Twice but quickly back down when you notice the height difference between you two. "I— I thought I wanted to check this place out more?" You say your excuse, but actually, you're here to tail a friend. "What do you do here exactly?"

"What you trying to know our secrets to sell us out?" — "Are you gonna be our friend then?"

"I guess I shouldn't have asked that. Is Dabi here? I called him to get here but I haven't seen him."

"He's out," Toga answers. "You wouldn't mind hanging out with us for a bit, right?" She grins.

"Well, there's not much else to do but that, right?"

Toga drags you around to show you everything she likes while Twice follows along giving commentary. There you find a little about their hierarchy.

"League of Villians using the Liberation Army as a front." You note. "Ah. Where's Shigaraki?"

"He's with the doctor." Toga answers immediately but her eye are trained on you.

You pause for a moment. "Is he sick or something?" You feel pressure weighing down on you the more the topic continues.

"Something like that."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Hey, it's Hawks. Hawks!" Twice waves down at the hallway.

Hawks's eyes met with yours and you give him a gentle smile. You three joined up with him. Though it seems that the group was already divided with Toga staying close to you and Twice talking up a storm with Hawks. And between you and Hawks, you both built a wall in between you two for this.

"Wait, why did you come back? Are you joining?" — "You better not be a spy or anything."

"Honestly..." You start. "I'm on the fence about it. I was thinking about talking to Dabi or Shigaraki to help make things clear for me."

"Why them? We're here." Toga asks.

"Hmm. Well, why are you guys here?"

"Because the League makes me feel useful and they're fine with being me." Twice answers.

"Because I want things my way." Toga follows.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." You mutter you put your hands in your pockets. "Me? I'm just looking for something to aim for."

"Like what?" Toga looks at you with curiosity.

You shrug. "Hope. Freedom." Your voice lowers. "I'm honestly tired of being no one I guess." You briefly glance at Hawks. He himself was quiet but you can tell by his eyes he was thinking. "I don't want to put up a front though, I wanna be myself."

"See? That sounds like our cause." Toga holds your hand. "You should really join us. It would be nice to have someone I like around."

"Yeah..."

You sit down facing the horizon. You hug your knees and play the scene in your head over and over to try and get an emotion out of yourself.

"I see you have found the roof." You watch as Dabi joins you.

"Toga and Twice kept me company. They seemed nice."

"And they seem to like you too. Don't know how to feel about the crazies liking you."

"It takes one to know one." You both laugh.

"Twice says you plan on joining."

"Wouldn't say plan. It's complicated." You shift to a different position propping your head.

"What else is there to think about?"

"Someone doesn't want me being here." You lean back. "And I did say I don't want to get caught up in this war of yours."

"You mean Hawks?" Dabi scoffs and clicks his tongue, annoyance growing in his chest. "What does that hero have to do with your business?"

"Same that he doesn't have any like you." You answer then fall silent for a moment. "I've studied people as a pass time. Shigaraki has something people need to fear. And for someone like you, alongside him." You give Dabi a side glance. "I can already see what comes next."

Dabi raises his eyebrows. "What's that?"

"The pain you all feel." You shift again and fold your hands together. "And it's difficult to deny that that's my pain as well."

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© 2023 Alfi. Do not replicate.

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 3

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warning: a little bit of angst and a lot of fluff. If you blink you might also see some smut.

A/N: Continuation to Part 2 of the photo series. Here's a link to Part 1 too. Thank you all for reading. I love you guys 😘♥️

Staying alone in Sy's house gave you an opportunity to find out more about your man. You were cleaning his study when you found a box shoved at the very back of a drawer with pictures inside. The first picture was a black and white photo of young Sy, probably in his early twenties. It looked like a candid picture, clicked by someone who must have attentively watched him while he read through some papers. As you rummaged through the box, you found a couple more candid pictures and a hand written letter addressed to Sy.

The box also contained polaroid pictures of a much older Sy. You picked up the one which looked fairly recent, maybe from only a couple of years ago. He had his signature beard, dressed in his suit with his smoldering eyes staring back at you. Behind were the words, "I count myself as extremely fortunate to have accompanied you on your big night, my love." Signed only as "M". You got the sinking gut feeling that it was from an ex-girlfriend, but what affected you more was that Sy had kept her things still.

Opening the letter and finding another picture inside, you took a moment to look at your man. You had no clue who were those people with him in the picture which only made you realise how little you knew about Sy. The letter mentioned how the person felt like they weren't a part of Sy's life anymore. "I invested too many years to be with you and yet I am here, all alone. I can't take it anymore." It read, continuing to jot down ways in which the person felt lonely while Sy was away and that is why she was deciding to break off their relationship. Your hear sank as you read it over and over again, noting how the edges of the paper was crumbled from being opened too many times. Keeping the box back in its place, you couldn't help but think back on everything that was mentioned as the silence in the big house seemed to envelope you.

You stared at your computer screen showing that you were online, waiting for the green dot to appear on Sy's image signifying that he was online on Skype too. It was your birthday tonight and before leaving, Sy had promised he would have long distance birthday dinner with you over video call. You had cooked his favorite recipe of Sloppy Joe's and got his favorite beer brand, even if you hated the taste of it. Your wait for a few minutes turned to hours with your food gone cold and beer turned warm. You looked at the screen, noting that it was past midnight now and your birthday was over. You couldn't help but cry when you shut down your computer, leaving your food on the table untouched and crawling into bed while thinking back on the letter and imagining if this is exactly how the other girl might have felt.

You sucked in a deep breath before receiving the video call from Sy. It was unexpected and unplanned, but it made your heart swell when his face appeared on the screen. Sy did not smile, he looked lost and deep in thought. Even with the awful quality of the call, you noticed the new scars on his face and how he looked like he had aged over a decade. Your talks were formal, mostly asking about how the other had been, general talk about health and wellbeing. But then you couldn't help but blurt out, "You missed my birthday." Sy sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, "I'm sorry but I had a rough week." You wanted to be understanding but the letter kept repeating its words in your mind and when you looked around, you only saw the emptiness. "But you had promised about dinner on my birthday." In an instant, Sy's voice came out like rumbling thunder. "If you want someone to be at your beck and call, maybe you should think what the hell are you doing with me. I can't be there all the time, I have a job to do here." His roaring voice came out loud from your speakers, bringing tears in your eyes. Anger and sadness mixed together and with a trembling voice, you said, "Maybe I really should think what I'm doing with you. Goodbye, Sy." You disconnected the call with painful heaviness in your heart.

Over the next weeks, you got several calls from Sy but you only spoke to him asking him about his health. The moment he would try to talk about what happened over the video call, you would change the subject. Then one day you got a video message sent to you by Sy. It was being filmed by someone else while Sy stood with a spray painted green German Shepherd. You watched as Sy instructed the dog called "Aika" to fetch a writing pad with papers stuck to it from the steps of the building and turn it around to face the camera. Sy crouched down next to Aika and the first paper read, "I'm very sorry about missing your birthday." He turned the sheet of paper over and the next one had "I'm sorry about acting like a dick the other night." When he turned the paper again, it read in bold letters, "I love you and I don't want to lose you." You felt the stinging feel of tears in your eyes as Sy came forward and spoke directly into the camera, "Dinner with me tonight? I'll make up for everything, I promise." Before the video cut, you heard men laughing in the background with someone shouting, "Captain's so whipped!" and imitating the sound of a whip slashing through the air.

That night, dinner was less about eating and more about sharing your feelings. Sy listened to how you felt about him missing your birthday, apologising profusely about it and telling you he'll make up for it when he gets back. But you felt like a bitch when he told you about his week and how he had lost two of his men during an attack on them. It was now your turn to apologize with tears in your eyes as you imagined losing Sy. You didn't want to ruin the mood but you had to ask about the box. "Who's M, Sy?" You watched as his expression had turned solemn and he had sighed heavily. "I take that you found the box? She was my girlfriend before you. We had been together since college and I won't lie, I really wanted to marry her. But, I couldn't give her the kind of life she wanted." You could hear the sadness in his voice while he spoke. "Do you still love her?" he answered in an instant, "Of course not! I love you, babe. I want no one but you. You can even throw away the box if you want, I just never got back to it and throw it away myself." He then proceeded to tell you he wanted to make you feel his love and explained what he had planned, which made you blush but reluctantly you obliged. Even with the distance of many, many miles between the two of you, you pleasured one another over the call while repeatedly professing how much you loved each other.

You had bounced on your feet nervously while watching the arriving flights displayed on the screen. Sy was coming home and your excitement knew no bounds. His tour had been extended by four more weeks which meant you hadn't seen him in person for almost half a year. But family came first so when he had asked if he could go directly to Austin to meet his folks, you hadn't objected. "What's one more week until I meet you?" You had joked although deep down you craved to be in his arms again. When newly arrived passengers started filing out through the doors, your heart drummed in your chest with anticipation. You nearly skipped a beat when Sy walked out the door with his bags, thinking about the time when many months ago you had bumped into him at this very airport, searching through the crowd for you. His bearded face broke out into a huge smile when he spotted you and you almost made a run for him, launching yourself into his arms while planting kisses all over his face. "God, I missed you so much." He said, hugging you tightly to his chest and not letting go of you for a long time.

The very next day, Sy had taken you out for dinner at the most fancy restaurant in town. You noticed how he was fidgety and nervous, looking at his watch several times. It worried you even more when for the third time that night, he excused himself and left the table. You wondered if he was sick but then were left confused when all of a sudden the speakers started playing the familiar tune of your favorite romantic song. You looked around puzzled but was taken by surprise when Sy walked to you and dropped down on one knee. With a tender smile on his lips he said, "I never knew what I really wanted from my life until I met you. Countless times I have prayed to the heavens for making you bump into me on that day. I was at the right place at the right time, for I met the most amazing and beautiful woman on this planet." You felt you heart pick up a pace knowing exactly what Sy was going to do. Fishing out a blue velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a magnificent diamond ring, Sy continued, "Darlin' will you marry me and make me the luckiest man alive?" There was no hesitation in your voice when you nodded fervently and repeated "yes" several times, hugging and kissing Sy before he placed the ring on your finger while everyone around clapped for the two of you.

Continued to Part 4

[nekomasmanager]

Tanaka Ryūnosuke × Reader

I'm extremely late to posting this even though I had it all written out beforehand. But oh well（￣︶￣）↗

Here is one of my personal favorites, cause I absolutely adore Tanaka, he resonated with me, ever since his first appearance.

You can find the ao3 post about this fic here: ao3 post

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Pairing: Tanaka Ryūnosuke & Reader Word Count: 3137 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Original Post Date on ao3: 03/03/2021

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You always knew Tanaka-San had a crush on Kiyoko. You already knew that. But you couldn't not fall for his charm, his sense of humor, and his skills on the court. You were also sure that he doesn't even know who you are.

You were just a member of the girls volleyball team. Sure you may have your special moments when you spike a ball the right way to score a point, but other than that, you're just a regular volleyball player. So when Tanaka came to you for advice, you were legitimately surprised.

At first you didn't answer him right away, thinking it was a prank, and looking for your teammates because they discovered your crush on the fellow spiker. But when you couldn't find any of them, you gladly accepted to help him. And well, you wished you asked him what kind of advice he needed. Because you weren't prepared for the devastating feeling you got when he told you he needed help asking Kiyoko out.

Not letting your unrequited feelings get in the way, you managed a weak smile and nodded, saying you'll help him however you can. "Sweet! Thanks Y/N!" "You're wel... wait you know my name?" "Well yeah of course I do! I would never forget the name of the girl whose spikes are out of this world!" He moves closer. "And well I couldn't forget the girl who always sneaks around to check out the boys volleyball practice." With that last statement, you blush profusely, mutter a quick flustered good bye and run away, listening to Tanaka's laughs behind you.

You couldn't believe it. He noticed you sneaking by the gym to see their practice. He even saw how you spike. Damn now you're going to be self-conscious whenever you're going for a spike in practice or in a match. "But how did he know I come to watch him and his team practice? I always try to stay hidden and not bother them, so how?" you mutter to yourself, not looking where you're going, and you just bump into someone. You quickly excuse yourself, but you're still thinking and don't notice who you bumped into, so you just continue on your way.

"Y/N?" You look up quickly and look around, searching for the source of the voice. There's only Nishinoya, and of course it's not him who called you, right? How would he know your name? But as you keep looking around, you heard him snicker, and you blush. "Y/N are you okay?" "Wait. You're talking to me?" "Well yes. There's no one else around, as I'm sure you noticed while looking around." "But how do you know my name?" "All of our team knows who you are, dummy! You're famous amongst us!" Horror struck your face, and you start panicking. What did he mean you're famous? Famous how? Did you make a fool out of myself in front of them and didn't notice? What are you going to do?

"Y/N calm down. It's nothing like that! Don't worry! It's my fault I should've been clearer. You're famous because we all know you watch us practice and watch us play our matches. And well whenever you're around Tanaka-San is always on top of his game! So thank you for that!" he said with a big smile on his face.

You could only look at him in shock. Were you that obvious with your sneaking around? You always try to make it to their matches to cheer them on, and you always go to watch them practice because they were just so cool to watch. Whenever you practiced with your team, you tried to incorporate what you saw with what you already know, but it would always turn into a hot mess and ruins everything. But you still tried to make them work.

But now that the entire boys team knows you're watching them, how can you face them? How can you face Ryūnosuke and help him get the girl he likes? And what did Nishinoya mean by Tanaka always playing better when they know you're watching? You had way too many questions on your mind and you had to blow off some steam. "I.. um.. I have to go now, I gotta practice or something. Bye Nishinoya-San!" He chuckles, amused by your flustered self, "Bye Y/N! See you at next practice!" You couldn't even answer, you just turned red and ran away, almost falling because of your own feet. Hitting yourself mentally, you get away even faster.

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You make way towards the school's gym, making sure no one is around, and you just start practicing. As you shoot your serves, you're thinking "What would Kiyoko-San enjoy as a gesture or present? What would be cool enough and not cringey at the same time? Why am I even helping him, I don't know Kiyoko that much! Sure I greet her in the hallways, and help her with minute tasks but that's it. Ugh I dug this hole myself, might as well make the most of it."

You try to focus again on your serves, but there's one thought that keeps gnawing in your mind, what did Nishinoya mean by Tanaka being on top of his game when you were watching? Shrugging off the questions from your mind, you went to pick up another ball from the pit, and that's when you realise you were not alone in the gym.

Before checking who the mysterious person was by the ball pit, you let out a high scream, scared for you life. "Quit your screaming Y/N!! It's me Tanaka. What are you even doing here all alone? I was looking for you everywhere!" "Tanaka-San? How did you know where to find me? And why were you looking for me?"

"Well I saw you talking to Nishinoya while looking for you, and as I was about to come greet you, you got all flustered and left him, almost stumbling to the ground." You hit yourself mentally, damn you made a fool out of yourself in front your crush, this day cannot get any worse. "I went up to Nishinoya to ask him where you went, and he told me you came here to practice. But before coming here I had to pick up something to show it to you. So close your eyes please." Sceptical about all this, you still closed your eyes, trying to calm down your excitement, Tanaka wanted to show you something!! You felt something a bit heavy being placed in your extended hands, and hear Tanaka telling you to open you eyes.

Looking down, you're faced with a box of chocolates and tiny teddy bear to match. You look up to the boy in front of you, questioning him with your eyes, trying to hide your blush. "This is a gift I picked out for Kiyoko-San. I wanted to see if she'll like it or not. So I thought showing it to you first and getting your opinion would be better, before I do something stupid."

"Oh." "You don't like it?" asking you with a hurt look in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn't quite place your finger on. "No no nothing like that. I think it's actually really sweet that you got this for Kiyoko. I'm sure she'll really love it. I was just surprised that's all! Don't worry!" He sighs, relief washing over him. "I also think that this gift paired with what I had in mind for a confession would be perfect. Since Kiyoko stays until the end of practice, you could ask her to wait up for you when you're done. You get her the gift. You look sweetly into her eyes, and say 'I really like you, and it's been a while since I do. I guess you might have noticed before, but now I wanted to say it more seriously. So please accept my gift. I would also be really happy if you returned my feelings.' And I guess that's about it, you should be ready for a confe-"

You stop in the middle of your sentence, because Ryūnosuke was standing really close to you, seriousness radiating from him. He gently raises his hand, and wipes under your eyes. You did not notice you were crying. Embarrassed, you give him back his gift, and worked quickly at wiping those tears away. "Ah I must have felt emotional and happy for you. I'm glad I gave you my idea, even if you don't use it in the end, I was happy to help. Do tell me what happens after that confession. I'll wait up after your practice to know all the details! I have to go now. See you soon!"

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You spilled all those words out, wanting to get away from him, in fear that your tears will flow down even faster. You left him without letting him speak. You just had to get away. Your cheek still tingles where he touched you to get rid of that singular tear. His hand felt so warm and you just wanted to snuggle, close your eyes and enjoy that closeness. But no you couldn't do that, he'll soon be someone else's boyfriend, and you just couldn't do that. You were running, as fast as you can. Your vision was blurry. You were crying again. You had to stop.

Seeing a nearby school building where no one actually comes here, you lean up on one of its walls, and just break down. Sliding down, you sit on the grass, and start sobbing. You hear the bell ringing calling student back to their classroom, but you couldn't care less. Your heart was aching and breaking, because you loved someone who doesn't love you back. Your body was shaking. You wanted to hit yourself for falling for someone you knew could never be yours. After a few minutes of crying your eyes out, you slowly calm yourself, still sniffling with the occasional hiccup.

You look up to the bright blue sky , and decided to tread back to your classroom, not caring if you were late. After a quick bathroom break to wash your face, you walk slowly back to your shared classroom with your crush and his teammate. Keeping your head down, you open the classroom door, and you can feel the stares on you. Apologizing for being late, the teacher lets you in with a warning and you promise to not be late again. You go to sit down at your designated window seat, and start staring at the field and nature outside, filtering out the words your teacher was saying. While staring outside, you failed to notice one particular boy who keeps on glancing at you, worried about you, with his heart aching and thumping loudly in his ears because of you.

Classes are finally over, but you stayed seated, wanting to copy down the notes you missed. You saw a shadow blocking your light, so you look up and see Nishinoya next to you. "Oh! Hi Noya. What brings you here? You need something? Don't you have practice?" "I just wanted to make sure you were okay Y/N. You never come late to your classes. And when Tanaka told me what happened, I was even more worried than him. Well no that's not true, he was scared shitless about where you were and why you were late. And when you came in late, with puffy and a downcast expression on your face, I knew you were crying. Want to tell me why?" You never knew Nishinoya was this observant. Feeling shy, you grab one strand of your hair while trying to explain yourself. "I just fell down while running back to class, and I hurt myself, so I cried like an idiot, and took some time to wash off the dirt in the bathroom. You don't have to worry about me!" Mustering a sad smile, you can see that he wasn't convinced by your fake story, but decided not to pressure you into telling him. "Well I'm glad you're better. But now come on! We have to go to practice!" You knew you couldn't argue with him, so you just quickly picked up your things and followed him out towards the gym.

Getting to the gym, you stop by the bench under the window and seat yourself, while Noya changes his shoes and enters the gym. As you're sitting down, trying to be comfortable, the libero player comes back out and starts looking from left to right, and when he sees you, he comes up to you. "What are you doing still out there? Come on in!" "But but I always stay out here so I don't distract you and I also study a bit!" "None of that! Come on. The whole team wants to finally meet you properly!"

You take your bag, change your shoes, and come in, shyly standing behind Noya. As you enter, all eyes turn to you, and you can feel yourself blushing like crazy. "Nice to meet you all, I'm Y/N. Sorry for the intrusion during your volleyball practice." "No intrusion at all. We were waiting for you to join us!" You turn and see that it was Coach Ukai that just spoke to you. Beaming to finally be able to speak to the famous coach of the boys volleyball team, you couldn't contain your excitement, and gave him a big hug, and realise way too late that everyone was looking at you.

With firetruck-red cheeks, you let go of the coach and scratch your neck, looking sheepish. When the initial shock wears off, you hear the coach's laugh and you feel him patting you on the head. "I like you already. You recognize talent when you see it." Smiling, you nod at his words. You go sit down on one chair and take out your books to study a bit. But you see yourself glancing every once and a while towards a certain player wanting to see him practice. Whenever he spikes a ball really well, your heart swells, but that quickly dies down when you see him looking at Kiyoko to view her reaction.

With an aching heart, you go back to your solving of mathematical equations. The end of practice soon comes around. You gather your supplies while saying good bye to the other players, having enjoyed watching them practice. Nishinoya comes up to you, and you both exit the gym quickly, cause you knew what's going to happen soon. You take your time putting on your shoes, telling Noya to leave before you so he won't be late.

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Being alone, you wait up, sitting down on a bench. To your surprise Kiyoko exits the gym soon after you and wears her shoes, preparing to go home. You go up to her and ask: "Wait. Where are you going? Where's Tanaka-San?" "Oh. He's inside, he told me to call you in when I got out." Confused, you wave her good bye and enter the gym again. It was all empty, except for the boy you liked standing in the middle of the court.

"Tanaka? What are you doing? And why didn't say anything to Kiyoko? She was right there! Did she reject you before you got the chance to give her your gift?" You're met with silence. You come closer to him, touching his shoulder gently. He turns around, and just engulfs you in a hug. Shocked, you slowly hug him back. You felt him relax when you wrapped your arms around him. "What's wrong? Did Kiyoko let you down? Tell me." You couldn't stand him not talking to you. You stop your questions when you hear him mumbling.

"What is it? I can't hear you properly." "It was never about Kiyoko-San. Sure she's pretty and cute, but she's nowhere close to you. When you didn't come to class, I was freaking out. Asking myself if it was my fault you came in late. And when I saw your puffy eyes and sad expression, my heart broke. I never want to see you like that. I know now what I asked of you was really unfair, but I wanted to know the best way for me to confess my feelings to you, but I ended up hurting you and making you cry. I'm such an idiot to make you go through all that. Please forgive me, I couldn't forgive myself for causing you so much pain. I like you so much. I can even say that I fell in love with you. I love you."

You were at a loss for words. While Ryū was squeezing you in his arms, the same words kept repeating in your head.

It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you. It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you. It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you. It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you.

You slowly get out of the hug, looking up at Ryū's face. Hopeful look in your eyes. "Do you really love me?" "Yes. I love you so much Y/N. Ever since I noticed you coming to watch us practice, I found myself seeking you out, whether in class, or for your help in a fake matter, that I regret doing so much. I started loving everything about you." Blushing like crazy, you buried your head in his chest. Slightly laughing, he wraps his arms around you in a loose hug.

You muster up your courage, stand on your tiptoes, and whisper in his ear. "I love you too, Ryū." Not being able to contain his excitement, he picks you up and twirls you around, laughing and being so happy that you love him back. When he puts you down, you grab his cheeks gently and bring him down to face you. You kiss him sweetly, humming when he kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"So.." Tanaka asks still encircling you with his arms. "Does that mean we're officially a couple?" Lightly hitting him in the arm, "Of course we are you dummy." "Yes! Everyone will definitely be jealous of this hot couple. They can only dream of being like us." Laughing together at his adorableness, you stay in each other's arms, content with everything in your lives, and that you finally found each other.

Nishinoya was definitely there during the whole exchange, knowing from the beginning how you both felt about each other. He's the best third-wheel you'll ever encounter. He'll definitely brag about you two and how he helped bringing you both together, even though he didn't really do that much to help. But you still love him both, he's definitely a great friend. You'll never tell him that, but you also tell people that it was him that brought you both together.

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Yay! My fanfic about Tanaka is finally up! I hope you enjoy reading it!

The next one is the longest I've written until now and it's with Tsukishima Kei!