#There's still a word haunting me but I just might say fuck it and leave it in the OG Yakama

[thinkinonsense]

for more logan angst, would you consider doing a "one year later" or something like that follow-up to dbf!logan and the i love you fight?

i miss you, i'm sorry-dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader

part one

456 days after

everyday your words haunted logan. he could picture you with tears in your eyes so clearly. he still went down to your fathers bar; needing something to cope. you left shortly after the fight, using the money you had saved up from working at the bar to get an apartment a couple towns over. there needed to be distance between you and logan but it seemed that no where was far enough.

logan knew every tiny detail about your life since you left. your father shows him pictures of how you decorated your apartment and tells him about the new boyfriend you've got. he should be happy; you got out before logan could get you hurt. instead, he's been drinking himself to sleep most night. your favorite bra and sleeping shorts still sat in his bedroom dresser, untouched but they still smelled like you.

"she comes home next week." your father says, pouring logan another glass of whiskey. "her mom and i are throwing her a small welcome home party, you should come by."

as if logan wouldn't feel more like a dick, he had also drove you away from your parents. always coming up with an excuse for why you can't come visit.

"i'm not sure–"

logan was cut off by your father again.

"c'mon, bud. i don't wanna be the only guy there." he jokes, excited to see you but just maybe not your friends that your mom invited.

"uh, sure." logan sighs, taking another swig from the glass. he desperately hoped that your father would forget or that logan could come up with some excuse.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

your thumbs drum anxiously at the steering wheel as you drive down your old street. the nerves were finally hitting, too late to turn back like you had many times before. all of your friends cars sat in the driveway, you can't cancel on them again.

logan could smell you before you even got out of your car. he's down in the basement with your dad and a few of the guys from the bar. his mind was anywhere except present as he focused solely on you.

"that should be her, fellas." your dad smiles, getting up to greet you upstairs with the others. "i'll be back."

logan finished his beer and wondered if he should sneak out or fake some emergency. was he even ready to you again? how would you react?

"hey, logan? could you come help bring in some bags?" your father yells down the stairs.

"logan?" your voice was shaking at the mention of the man who shattered your heart.

this isn't the time to be crying. just get through dinner and then you can drive home; tell them you can't stay the night. fuck, what were you going to do?

"welcome home, sweetheart." logan mumbles with a slight nod, walking past you and out the door.

it was hard to mask your anger. one of your friends pours you a glass of wine and brings you to the living room, away from logan. your dad and him bring in your suitcases and sit them in your old bedroom. all of it felt like when you step off a roller coaster; dizzy, slightly confused, wanting to go again.

at the table, your mom asks about your new boyfriend. logan couldn't stand you going on and on about how great this guy was. so great that he's too busy to come home with you.

"so, do you think he's 'the one'?" one of your friends asks.

"um... i'm not sure." you shrug, catching logan's eye. "but i know he loves me and that's all that matters."

you might as well shot logan in the chest with that one.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

one too many glasses of wine and two beers later, almost everyone was starting to clear out. everyone except for logan. he's not sure why he didn't leave sooner. perhaps it was your presence that made him stay. even if you were pissed at him still, you were still here, still near him.

"i'm gonna go get more beer from the garage." you tell your friends, stumbling a little to your feet.

the truth was that you needed some air. too consumed by logan's heated gaze. you made it down the porch steps before you heard the screen door open and close.

"i don't need any help." you call out over your shoulder.

the foot steps sounded much closer by the time you flicked on the light switch.

"don't you think you've had enough to drink tonight?" logan asks, shutting the garage door behind him.

"i can drink however much i want." you slur slightly. "i am an adult after all ."

"i know, you're an adult."

"are you sure? because wasn't it just a little over a year ago that you were still treating me like a child?"

"if you don't want to be seen as a child, then don't act like one."

"fuck you, logan." you hiss, slamming the fridge door.

"oh sure, it's fuck me for sayin' the truth." logan rolls his eyes.

"it's fuck you for breaking my heart."

"do you think that you didn't break my heart by leaving?"

"i left because you told me to go!" you cried, finally letting the tears flow. "i said i loved you and you got scared like a little kid."

"i got scared because you shouldn't love someone as fucked up as me." he snaps, voice becoming strained.

"did you serious think i didn't know?"

logan looks at you stunned. how did you...?

"you talk in your sleep. it wasn't hard to piece together after that." you answer with sigh. "your mutation doesn't scare me."

there's a moment of silence between the two of you. logan steps forward, touching a lock of your hair; vanilla body wash flooding his senses. he's missed you so much.

"your stuff is still in my drawers." logan whispers. you know what he means; he's never been good with expressing his emotions but you always could tell what he meant. "want ya' to come home, sweetheart."

logan's rough palm moves up to cup the side of your face. your torn between shoving him away or pulling him closer. without a second thought, you nuzzle into his touch. old habits die hard.

"i can't." you tell him.

"yes, you can–"

"no. you don't love me, lo."

"i do, i want to be with you." logan begs, fighting off his tears.

"you love when i'm in bed with you or when we listen to records and do cross word puzzles together, but you are not in love with me." you tell him, lightly removing his hand from your face. "i can't be with someone who hides from me, someone who can't even say out loud that they love me. i'm sorry, logan."

you grab the case of beer and walk past him one last time. it was hell to leave him there but even logan knew he deserved it. he wasn't worthy of your love then and he defintely wasn't worthy of it now. you dodged the bullet that would leave him here to bleed out.

[kennedybaby]

HAUNTING ~ JASON P. TODD. 18+

Summary: Maybe blocking Jason isn't such a great idea.

Contents: dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), fingering in the alleyway, fucking in the alleyway hence risky sex slash teeny tiny bit of exhibitionism, rough sex, size difference, unhealthy relationship.

Pairing: Jason P. Todd X Female! Reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Author note: an anon implied that they want a part two of the drabble i made abt ex! jason. it is here... and it's valentine's day special. sorry for dropping bangers and leaving for another 2 months. will do it again. enjoy!

🖥️ MAIN MENU. PART ONE.

I know if I’m haunting you,

you must be haunting me.

You told yourself this was going to be the last time. The morning after Jason had left, you were already blocking his number and changing the lock to your front door the next day. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity that helps you realized that maybe… maybe this things going on between you and him wasn’t exactly healthy. Maybe it’s a good idea to ignore the calls you’ve been getting from ‘unknown’ caller knowing full well it was him.

You think it’s a little cute when he went as far as to text you from Dick’s number.

He thinks you’re a brat.

Besides, who cares if what him and you had going on wasn’t healthy? You didn’t have to blocked him.

Whatever, what’s done is done. “He’s going to stop reaching out eventually.” you told yourself only to see him leaning against his bike, waiting for you in one of the alleyway you always passes after your night shift a week after blocking him. The red helmet slightly glints in the dark when the streetlight hits, “come here,” he murmurs, head tilts slightly to the side. There’s a battered bouquet of red roses in his hand, the veins on his forearm pokes out from how tight he gripped the bouquet to the point that the stems are crushed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, princess. Come get your flowers.” Jason adds, his other hand reached up to removed his helmet as he placed it on the seat of his bike.

”I don’t want to.” A small huff left your lips.

”Just do it, goddamnit [Y/N].”

Old habits die hard.

Your shoulders drops in defeat as you dragged your feet to him, you can’t help it. As much as you want to keep up the ‘I’ve-totally-moved-on’ acts, you just can’t. So here you are, not even five minutes in and Jason already had his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips naturally finding their way to yours the second you had your head slightly tilts up. “Blocked my number, huh? What, you think you’re so mature, huh?” He snorts, letting the bouquet falls from his hand to hold you tighter in his arms. “I didn’t block you…” You whined, standing on your tip toes to keep him quiet by smothering his lips with small pecks.

”Yeah right, that’s totally believable.” He scoffed in between the pecks you're giving him, his head tilts down to make it easier for you to reached in for more kisses. “Because my texts and calls totally got thru.” You can practically taste the sarcasm dripping from the way he talks to you. “I might have accidentally blocked you.” You pulled back slightly to watch as his face gradually sours. He stared back at you with an annoyed look, his brows furrowed before a low groan leaves his lips. “Face the wall.” He groaned, his fingers running thru his black locks before you reluctantly turn to face the wall, “We’re doing it right here?” You stuttered as you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your eyes quickly widened when he pressed himself against you. His bulge slightly rubs against your ass, his hands digs into your hips to keep you still. “Damn right we are.” He says, his breathing slightly staggered as he moves his hips slightly to get more friction against his clothed cock.

You leaned the back of your head, fingers latching onto his forearms as a support. “You’re so annoying, you know that, right?” He speak with a gruff, there’s creases on his forehead as Jason looked back at him. “How many times are you going to do this, huh? Acting like I don’t exist and blocking my number the second we had sex. I’m gettin’ real sick of it, [Y/N].” His hand reached up to grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him  as he grinds himself against the curves of your ass. “Fucking brat.” He adds, his thumb gently brushing over your lips. “My fucking brat.”

“I don’t know,” you breathes, your lips instinctively parting as Jason slips his thumb into your mouth. “…until you’re bored of me?.” You muffled out your words, eyes slowly turning cloudy from the having his cock brushing up against you. He scoffed at your reasoning, rolling his eyes before he pressed his thumb down your tongue.

”As if.” He mumbled, leaning down slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’re gonna block me again after this?” His eyes flickered to looked back at you. You stared at him for a solid minute with only the sound of his jeans and your skirt rubbing together can be heard before he removed his thumb off your tongue to let you speak. “No?” You stammers, mentally cursing yourself when he smirked at your answer. “Good girl.” He replied, his hand falls to the hem of your skirt.

”I missed you,” A soft whine left his lips as his fingers desperately reached down to rub your clit. Jason leaned against you to leave kisses on your neck and up to your jaw as his fingers pushes your panties aside. “You’re so wet already, baby.” He mutters, massaging the bundle of nerves in a circular motion. He slowly swipes his fingers between your folds as you leave trails of your wetness on his fingers. “Looks like this pretty little thing misses me too.” He chuckled when you whimpers at the feeling of his fingers being pushed inside of you. “I missed you too…” You whined, eyes shut tight as he pumps his digits deeper into your sopping cunt. The wetness between your legs sticks to your thighs and clings to his fingers, his teeth hungrily leaving marks on your neck. “Sorry for blocking you.” Your body shuddered in sheer bliss when his fingers curls with his calloused palm constantly brushing against your clit.

”Yeah? You’re sorry?” He asked, his voice growing breathy while his other hand clumsily undo his belt and zipper. A small frustrated groan leaves his throat before he pulls his fingers out of you causing you to pout and whine. “Oh, come on. Give me a second.” He laughed, turning you around but this time facing his bike. He moves your leg up on the seat before he kneel down behind you. “Fuck… Look at that.” He whispers, his warm breath fanned against your pussy before he desperately buried his face in between your thighs. “Jason!” You squeaked, toes curling upon feeling his tongue lapping on your clit with his fingers tightly gripping your thighs. His thick fingers leaving marks on your skin as you squirmed on his bike, causing him to land a spank on your cheek.

You whined. “What’s that for?” You looked back at him only to be met with his dazed eyes and his mouth still latching onto your pussy, drinking every liquid that drips out of you. For once in the span of an hour filled with nothing but his sarcasm, he was quiet. Except for the occasional groans and moans every time you pushes deeper against his nose. Your nails digs into the cushion of his seat as you whimpers when he slide his tongue into your entrance, prodding in and out of your entrance before he finally pulled back for some air.

”Jeez, Jay…” He looked up at you when you pouted, his cheeks and chin were coated with your juices before his eyes cast down to the way you wiggled your hips at him. “…keep going.” You bat your lashes at him, the excitement in your stomach stirs as he tugs his pants and boxer just low enough for his cock to springs out of the tight confinement before gently slapping against his stomach. His thumb keeping your panties aside and your entrance exposed to him, "Calm down, princess." He sighs before his teeth digs into his lower lip, it's been a hard week since he felt anything close to this. Sure, he settled on his fist for the first two days before he completely stopped when he realised that fucking his fist to the thought of you wasn't as good as fucking you.

He slowly moves his hips, managing to bury the tip of his cock inside of you as he lets out a choked moan. "Still feels good as ever." He moaned, head tilted back with his eyes closed. His cock twitches in you when small whines falls past your lips, sending vibrations down to him as the muscles tightening around his length. "Christ, you're still not used to me?" His breath were shaky before he looked down to you, admiring at the clear size difference between the two of you as you tried your best to take every inch of him.

"S'not my fault," You huffed, your legs slightly trembles underneath him. Jason shifts your position slightly, holding you by the waist with one hand while his other hand makes their way under your shirt to fondled with your tits. "Never said it was." He replied, pushing his cock deeper inside of you until he’s halfway in when he stopped, noticing the way you tensed up. “It’s okay, baby. Just a few more inches and the hard part’s over.” Your body shuddered from his whispers, his breath tickling the back of your neck before you quickly nods at his words. His hand reached to wiped the sweats off your forehead before his hips slowly moves, “Mhm, just like that… Just relax.” Jason coos, planting small kisses on your temples.

A whine break out of your sealed lips when he completely buried himself inside of you, filling every crevices off your pussy with his twitching cock. The curve of his length itches just the sweet spot to make you see stars, “Jason…” The sound of you calling his name temporarily distracts him from the way your pussy clamped him down. His fingers had its deadly grips on your hips as you stand on your tip toes just to slightly fuck yourself on his cock, “Yeah?” He croaked, replying back to you with a deeper tone as he glanced down to the way your ass softly slaps against his pelvis, “You’re adjusting?” He asked before you let a small ‘mhm’ left your lips.

“You’re just fucking yourself on me.”

“No, I’m not.” You lied with a crooked grin. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Just look at the damn wall. You’re gonna break that dainty little neck if you keep looking back at me like that.” He mumbled, moving his hips into you in a more quicker pace. “Hold onto my helmet. Drop it and I’m stopping.” He grabbed a fistful off your ass while you quickly grabbed the red helmet, hugging it to your chest. The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the dark alleyway, your shared moans and groans reverberates and bounces off the brick walls. He moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers pressing down on your clit as he moves it in sloppy, circular motion. His other hand holding on the handle of his bike, “Lift your ass up, baby.” He grunted, brow furrowing as his hips moves back and forth, every thrust felt like he’s sending you over the edge.

”I’m trying!” You said in a hushed tone, too breathless. You weren’t sure if your knees can take anymore before they buckled to the dirty ground. In an act of desperation, Jason lifts you up with his forearm under your stomach causing your legs to dangled off the ground before he continue shoving his fat cock into your dripping pussy. You let out a small gasp, he’s really doing it-- he’s quite literally carrying you like a doll. “Can’t even do the simplest thing.” He huffed, eyes closed with his the tip of his nose tickling the crook of your neck as your fingers clings to his helmet, not wanting to dropped it lest he stopped just for the sake of making you miserable.

Your eyes lazily gazes at the other end of the alleyway where anyone that decides to passed the alleyway can noticed the both of you. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought, minimizing your moans into small squeaks and whines. You glanced at Jason, hoping he doesn’t notice only for him to sharply thrust into you to elicit a loud moan out of you, green eyes narrowing down at you. “Don’t be quiet,” He whispered, his other hand reached to traced the curve of your spine with his thumb lightly. “Let me hear you.” He dragged his voice to sound slightly whiny just to tease you even further.

You hated how much you expected this from the get go.

Blocking him was never an option, Jason has a knack when it comes to keeping you tied to him. One command from him and you’d rushed back into his arms like a puppy, hopelessly lingering around him. “Feels so good…” You whispered back, lashes thick with salty tears as wanton moans spills out of your swollen lips. You hated the fact that the both of you knows this. You’re not even sure if the both of you were even exes at some point. The feeling of the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot sends you shivering despite being half dressed, it doesn’t help how godly his cock is. The delicious curve that sends you whining for more, the noticeable vein on the side of his length, the way his balls slaps against your clit, the thickness of it-- all of it drives you insane, fills your body with nothing but carnal desires.

“Outside? Inside?” He asked in between his groans, strands of his black locks sticks to his forehead as his jaw clenches. You know it’s near when his movement grow sloppy and inconsistent, his eyes darkened with sheer lust and the muscles on his bicep flexes. “Fuck, don’t just gimme puppy eyes, princess. Answer me.” He said with gritted teeth, purposely moving his hips rougher into you as you cried out of pleasure. “Out, out, out…” Your babbles almost went incoherent when you choked on your own moans while you blinks away the tears that welled at the corned of your eyes. He nods his head, burying his face into your shoulder as his arm around your waist tightens.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He curses, his head spinning and leaving him dizzy. Jason wanted to stay inside of you badly, the warmth of your cunt wrapping snugly around him screams nothing but heaven. And the fact that you’re already cumming on his cock before he even gets to pulled out? God, you’re just torturing him at this point. He pulled out of you right before he finishes, wet and sticky seeds shooting on your back and staining your skirt as he winces when the cold air hits his cock. “Oh my god.” His chuckle were airy, skin were slightly flushed from the lovemaking. Jason cradled you in his arms, turning you around to face him before placing you on top of his bike.

”You okay?” He asked, softly massaging your inner thighs. His forehead presses against yours, his gaze softened at the sight of you looking back at him with tired eyes. “Yep.” Your answer were short as you steadied your breathing, your arms wrapped around his neck to pulled him closer while Jason fixes your clothes.

”Wanna go rest at my place?”

The both of you stared at each other for a solid minute. You give him a small nod.

“That’s my girl.”

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR MODIFY ANY OF MY WORKS. ©️ KENNEDYBABY.

[mcflymemes]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 5

WC: 1766, Masterpost CW: discussions of death, vague mentions of child trafficking and rape

Danny leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He breathed in slowly through his nose, counting. He couldn’t let loose. They didn’t know. John said they didn’t know and Danny trusted John. Not with everything, he knew too much to trust John with everything, but he trusted John with this. The other wouldn’t have done this if he had known.

The gloved hand on his shoulder shifted, sliding to wrap around the back of Danny’s neck and give a little squeeze. It should have felt suffocating. It was grounding. Danny could already feel himself settling and responding to resonate back with Red Hood.

That was dangerous to have that resonance.

“Pomp,” John said. His shoes squeaked as he leaned forward. “Talk to me, Pomp, what did I miss?”

That right there was one of the reasons Danny trusted John, he would step up when he fucked up.

Danny sighed and opened his eyes. “He’s— he was a halfa, John.”

John paled. The color drained out of his face and left him a splotchy grey. His voice was strangled as he insisted, “Halfas are just a myth.”

“Rare, very rare, but not a myth. Think about it John. You said that the Red Hood from before was alive, but you know I’m right, the one here is a protector spirit. He died, John.”

“Red Hood is still alive, he has a heart beat,” Superman insisted.

“I’m still not talking to you,” Danny hissed, not taking his eyes off John. “Constantine. He was a halfa. I don’t know what they are anymore. This one is more ghost than human. I assume that the other one is more human than ghost. But put them back together and they would be perfectly balanced and you’ve been keeping them apart.”

John slumped back, rubbing at his face. “Bloody fucking hell…”

“The other half has been unwell, hasn’t he? Maybe just fatigued, but I bet he’s in pain too. His focus keeps wandering maybe. He’s listless.” Danny finally glanced away from John and over to the trio. Batman was, as always, almost impossible to read, but Danny felt sure Batman was tense. He might even be worried.

He wasn’t even looking at Danny but instead at Red Hood, who Danny was sure was avoiding Batman’s gaze. Even still, Red Hood’s fingers were trembling against the back Danny’s neck.

Danny reached up and took the gloved hand, hooking their fingers together.

“Constantine,” Batman growled, but the word sounded broken, under the bite.

John glanced from Batman to Danny and back again. “If Nightingale says that Red Hood is, was, a halfa, then he was. Nightingale’s the psychopomp, the dead is his realm more than any living I’ve ever met and, hell, more than most people who are dead.”

“And what is a halfa?” Wonder Woman asked, still the calm voice of reason.

“Rare,” Danny bit back, showing his teeth. He made himself take a breath and regulate his tone. “Someone who is half living, half ghost. They are a balance between life and death. If no one knew that Red Hood was part ghost, there’s a chance he wasn’t fully formed before, but I can assure you he’s a protector spirit now, no matter if he’s still alive. It’s also likely why the spell did this. There were already two halves to split. The human who was the living and the ghost who was the death.”

Wonder leaned forward in her seat. “You seem certain that the other half is sick.”

“They have to be— it’s a part of themselves that was ripped out and that leaves a wound. I suspect that because the other one must have more of the human side, he’s suffering more of the human affects of the separation while Red Hood is suffering more of the ghostly affects.”

“And your recommendation?” Wonder Woman asked.

“They need to be together. They need to be together and the place where they’re together needs to be Red Hood’s haunt.”

“His haunt?”

“Likely where he resided before. Or it would be where he patrolled if those are different areas. It would be somewhere emotionally important to him no mater what. As I’ve said, he’s a protector spirit so it should be obvious where his haunt is considering his role as a vigilante.”

“Crime Alley,” Red Hood rasped from behind Danny. his fingers squeezed tighter around Danny’s for a moment.

Danny’s arm was getting sore holding itself up like that, but he wasn’t going to take the comfort away from Red Hood or even deprive himself of that grounding point. It would be too easy for him to lose his temper here and really give the Justice League something to be afraid of.

“Crime Alley then,” he said. He had no reason to doubt what Red Hood was said. A ghost knew their own haunt. “We have to get him back to Crime Alley and they need to be together. I assume you have a place there?”

“No,” Batman said, though he didn’t shift. Wonder Woman placed her hand on his arm again.

“We’re concerned about there being a reaction of some sort should they meet,” she explained. “Constantine said that it might be possible.”

Constantine grumbled under his breath and ducked his head with a little shrug.

“If we didn’t know what was going on, sure, that’s a fair enough worry, but we do and I’m telling you that they need to be together until either they’re back together as one or until they fully settle into two separate people.”

“No.” It was Superman who protested this time.

“You don’t have a choice if you don’t want to torture and kill one or both of them,” Danny said, resisting the urge to bare his fangs at the boy scout again. “They need to go to Crime Alley.”

“He’s dangerous. If he is just the Red Hood half of the personality, which you’ve basically confirmed—“

“I have not. I’ve explained how they were physically split. It has affected how their split in motivation only because motivation is what a ghost is, but I would have to speak with both of them to learn how they are mentally and emotionally split.”

Superman just frowned in a disappointed uncle sort of way, as Danny talked and then continued on like Danny hadn’t even said anything. “Then he’s even more dangerous. We cannot simply let someone like Red Hood go. We have to think about everyone’s safety in this matter, especially civilians.”

“I thought you weren’t killers?” Danny threw back at them, saccharine sweet in his delivery.

It made Superman’s frown deepen, though Wonder Woman actually looked a bit amused.

“We aren’t,” the Big Blue said.

“If you try and keep him here you are. I’m telling you right here and right now that if you do not let him go back to Crime Alley then you are signing his death warrant. You might try to claim that he died in jail, but you’ll still be the cause of it. But that’s how you kill, isn’t it?”

“Nightingale,” John warned under his breath, twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch Danny, maybe to hold him back.

“No, really, it is, isn’t it? You want to to pretend that you don’t kill, that you’re better than whatever Red Hood has done, but are you really? At least he’s Honest about it. Red,” Danny said, tugging at the other’s hand so that he had to move up to stand more beside him. Danny looked up at the mask, looked through it. “You’ve killed.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they wouldn���t stop. They never stopped. Now that they’re dead, they’ve stopped.”

“Who?”

“Poisoning drug dealers. Rapists. Abusers. Child traffickers. People who threatened my….” Red Hood reared back slightly as if surprised by what his cut off words were going to be.

“Your haunt. Your people. Those under your watch and protection,” Danny said. “See, he’s honest about it. Were all of those deaths in the right? I don’t know. But I’m not sad a rapist is dead. I’m not sad children didn’t get trafficked. Those are the sort of people we’re supposed to be against, isn’t it? Well, us small heroes. You fight bigger names these days, don’t you, Superman?”

“Alright then,” John said, standing suddenly. Red Hood twisted to put himself further between the occult detective and Danny.

Danny patted Red Hood’s arm gently. “It’s okay, John’s trying to protect me. He thinks I’m putting my foot in my mouth and making enemies. And maybe I am. But I’m not going to sit by and watch this hypocrisy. You don’t kill. That’s a damn lie.”

“We don’t.”

“You’ve checked up on ever criminal then?”

“What?” Superman asked, thrown by the sudden question.

“Every criminal you’ve fought, every mugger and back robber and goon, you’ve followed up to see how they’re doing the next day, month, year?”

Superman had that lemon sucking twist to his face again. “No?”

“So you don’t really know, do you, how many criminals walked away from you only to die of brain hemorrhaging later because you punched them into a wall. Or how many died from a complication to their lungs or spine or heart because Black Canary ruptured something with her wail or Flash fucked from contact with the Speedforce. It’s not that you haven’t killed, it’s just that you don’t know how many you’ve killed. It’s impossible to act on the scale that you do and not have killed,” Danny said with certainty.

“Nightingale, I believe you’ve made your point,” Wonder Woman said, still calm, still patient. She was different from the others. She has killed, Danny knew that; she was an Amazon. He remembered his stories from Pandora.

“Have I?” Danny asked. He let go of Red Hood as he stood to lean over onto the table. Danny could feel that snarl building up in his throat again now. The other reached out to touch him again right away. The snarl calmed a little, only a little. “Because what about when Superman has used a building as a barrier to smack an enemy into? No one was ever hurt there? No grannie ever slipped and fell as the building shook and never got up again? At least that would be an accident then, unlike punching someone to death, but don’t pretend your hands aren’t red. Don’t pretend—”

The hiss of the door opening cut Danny off.

The room feel silent.

Danny could see all the heroes tense.

From behind him a voice spoke up, “Well, aren’t you all dramatic.”

--- AN: The mysterious stranger is right! They are all dramatic. Danny was about ready to go for Superman's throat-- literally and just not figuratively. Hope you enjoyed how this all played out! I know people were waiting for Danny to let loose some. Fatigue is hitting me hard right now, so glad to have gotten this out!

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, you can instead subscribe to the masterpost!

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”

She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

[idiswhadidis]

only you

mafia-bf jungwon x fem.doctor reader

sypnosis jungwon got hurt and you‘re the only one he wants - genre fluff, angst - warnings blood, needle, stabbing wound, cursing - wc 0,8k

a/n. hey there i posted earlier than i expected wohoo have fun reading <3

knocking onto his door rather harshly, annoyed and concerned written on your face

15 minutes ago you got a call from his personal assistant telling you he got himself injured during a mission and wouldn’t let any doctor help him if it’s not you

and here you are, not so patiently waiting for him to open the god for saken door

„i swear to god Jungwon if you don‘t open the door i will not come again to treat your ass ever again.“

not hearing any response or movements you get anxious he might be actually bad injured and fell unconscious

fishing out the keys you got from him in cases for these from your back pocket, feeling absolutely stressed

as you step slowly into the room you see the light shining through the door from the bathroom

walking to it and knocking on it, not hearing a response once again

„when i step in and i see you not unconscious i will smack you for not answering me even once mark my words“

you turn the knob and the first thing you see is a topless Jungwon right infront of a sink full with tissues tainted with blood

„fucking shit“ you speed walk up to him and take a look at him, seeing him drenched in sweat his bangs sticking onto his skin and his breathing a bit unsteady

„took you long enough“ he says the audacity

„what the fuck happened“ you say full with panic, him taking his hand off from his adomen

„got a bit traced by a knife?“

„traced?! - you mean stabbed“ taking as many tissues as you can and pressing your hand onto the wound trying to stop the bledding as best as you can making him squeeze his eyes shut and lean onto the sink for support

„love, don‘t be so harsh god damn“ glaring at him „you‘re so stupid you are bad injured but you didn’t let your doctors treat you? are you kidding me you could have passed out before i got here and it could have gotten more complicated“

looking up at him you see him smiling at you, „i love to see you care for me“

smacking his arm and pressing onto his wound a bit more had him throw his head back

„fuck okay sorry“

„try to lay down slowly so i can treat your ass“

„always so nice to me“ he says with a pained voice as he try’s to lay down

taking your hands off his wound you take a better look at it seeing that it‘s not that deep so it didn’t damage any organs

opening your bag full of medical stuff preparing to stitch him up, handing him a towel to bite on

„you know the drill i will numb the area but you still gonna feel pain“

you hear him snuck in a breath every time the needle goes through it „just 3 more times okay hang on and don’t close your eyes or i will haunt you“

making him chuckle silently

putting a bandage on it and done.

you take a deep breath brushing your hair back and looking at Jungwon who’s already looking at you with gratitude-

„i will definitely get more wrinkles from all the stress.. - you’re pretty dirty shall i help you wash up?“

nodding at you, and helping him getting freshen up.

you wait outside for him to change into different clothes and prepare the bed

hearing the bathroom door swung open you turn around seeing him in sweatpants and a tanktop

„thank you love“

„no problem just promise me to let your doctors do their thing when its gonna happen again which i hope the fuck not but still..“

„can‘t promise“

„jungwon-

„i wouldn’t trust any other doctor besides my lovely girlfriend who is a doctor herself“

turning back around, a slight pinkish taint on your cheeks feeling a bit flustered „you‘re annoying“ you mutter

you feel arms wrapping around your waist pressing you to his chest his face on your neck tracing it with his nose and leaving butterfly kisses along it, making you melt into his arms

„i’m sorry for making you worry princess, i didn’t thought the mission would escalate like that, and you know you‘re the only person i want to see after such disaster“

„it’s okay and i know, i mean it wasn’t the first time but i for sure hope the last- turning around and giving him a stern look

„-got the person who stabbed you atleast his punishment?“

„the next second after he did that, don’t think about it“

leaning a bit down and tucking your hair behind your ear, whispering against your lips „i love you“ making you peck hip lips muttering a i love you back.

„well can we now got to bed, your assistant woke me up in the middle of a dream“ you turn around ready to jump into the cozy duvet

him smacking your butt „i for sure hope it was about me"

[sixosix]

( ? ) wanderer proves that he can fluster you. 640 words

“—and, well, you haven’t failed me before. i know i can trust you with this.”

you grin, holding his gift closer to your chest like it’s your newborn. “tighnari, you flatter me. look, i’m blushing.” tighnari doesn’t bother pointing out that you aren’t at all.

“as if anything could fluster you,” tighnari laughs lightly. he must be referencing all the moments you were shameless with being playful with all of them, doubling down when they try to do the same. (it never works when they try—you’re relentless.)

“oh yeah?” the grin you’re wearing shifts into something more sly. “wanna try and prove that wrong?”

he makes a face, almost haunted. “i’m not asking for a death wish.”

you snort, finally looking up from where you’ve been tending to tighnari’s gift—a potted plant with a species of flower you aren’t quite familiar with. “general watchleader, why would that be a death wish?”

tighnari clears his throat, his smile twitching into something more irked upon the nickname you gave, yet his eyes are elsewhere. somewhere over your shoulder. “speaking of,” he mumbles. before you can turn to follow his gaze, tighnari speaks up again, “cyno and collei might be looking for me. i’ll see you around, okay?”

“oh, um—” startled by his sudden urge to leave, you manage a quick wave with one hand, “—okay, bye, tighnari!”

your hands grow tired quickly, so you bend down to place his gift carefully by your feet. the leaves look as if they have curled toward you.

you turn around to see what tighnari was staring at earlier and nearly jolt out of your skin upon seeing wanderer a foot away from your back. if puppets could breathe, you would have heard it.

“what the— fuck, why do you make no noise? don’t you know how creepy that is?”

wanderer does not care in the slightest, and it shows on his expression: blinking, unaffected. surprisingly, he gives no snarky reply to that. just keeps staring.

“hello? malfunctioned in there?” you wave a hand in front of his face.

he catches your wrist, using it to pull you closer to him until your chests are almost touching.

you gape, alarmed by the sudden proximity. “have you gone mad?” he keeps silent, still, only moving closer and closer. you take a step back; he takes two steps forward.

before you know it, your back is against a tree, your hand pinned next to your head, and the other being wanderer’s own hand. your breath hitches, aware of how this must be looking to bypassers.

to make matters worse, he breathes. it’s intentional—one he rarely does unless he’s overheated or he’s just doing it for his amusement, like what he’s doing now. you feel it on your face, a sharp sensation bolting down your spine.

��hey, you— you’re really—” inwardly, you curse yourself for stammering, but you’re too weak to sharp eyes and cold, artificial skin, “w-what are you…”

finally, he makes a noise after closely watching your face. it’s a self-satisfied one, accompanied by a smug grin.

and finally, finally, he frees you from his hold, never faltering from his pleased expression.

“you— what the hell? what was that about?” you’re pretty sure that the rainforest has gotten exceptionally hot today; you feel its effects on your face.

“don’t worry about it,” wanderer says airily. so he can still speak, after all. “you said that it was going to be quick; what a bold-faced lie. are you done dilly-dallying with your friends?”

“are you going to explain?!”

you watch as he whirls around wordlessly as if that was his answer. and then he keeps walking, and walking, and—

he’s actually leaving and expecting you to follow after him.

you feel the urge to throw the pot at his head. “i have to take this back home, asshole!”

“leave it, then!” he yells back.

looked at the 3.8 scara art again and my fingers did this on their own idk what happened either SJDJSJJ

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 7/12/23 (i'm late to this)

prompt: black eye

pairing/character(s): steddie

this is part 2, read part 1 here

-

"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."

Eddie's words bring about a lopsided smile to Steve's face, and then his eyes drift back to being closed. He doesn't look like he's asleep, but he's definitely not all there. Distantly, Eddie wonders what good shit they've got Steve on for him to not be sobbing in pain at every movement right now. His black eye is.. difficult to look at.

Once again, Eddie wonders what the fuck happened in the past forty eight hours. He turns to Buckley.

"What happened?" He asks, and Robin narrows her eyes and looks ready to attempt to interrogate him again, so he's quick to continue, "I- I know you have questions, but for now can you just accept that I'm here because I care about him?"

He hopes she ignores the way he's still absently rubbing his thumb in a back-and-forth motion over Steve's arm. Hopes that for now she can dismiss the casual intimacy, and not question why Eddie's one of Steve's emergency contacts. Not while Steve lacks the therewithal to make a decision about coming out or not.

Still looking suspicious, she nods once, and casts a glance to the other side of the room, where the two younger kids are sat together. Eddie follows her gaze to see the young girl is asleep, head resting on Dustin's arm, and Dustin has his eyes resolutely on the door, like he's waiting for a monster to burst through it. He doesn't look fully there.

"We were just finishing the closing duties at work and," Robin starts, and then pauses like she's going over the details in her head, "and there was a late shipment we had to put away in the freezers, but then a fire broke out and we got trapped."

Buckley is a lot of things, but a good liar isn't one of them. Even if she was a good liar, Eddie knows things that make that one sound implausible. Steve hasn't been missing for just one night. It's been two nights. What the fuck happened before the fire? And that's not even considering the logistics of Steve's injuries and how they happened.

"Don't bullshit me." Eddie says quietly, looking down at Steve again, "That makes no sense and you know it. Are you seriously telling me a fire give Steve a black eye and a concussion? These kids just happened to be there?"

His words have Robin looking incredibly nervous, and Dustin straightens a little where he's sat, looking to be actively listening for the first time since Eddie entered the room.

"You have to shut up, man. I don't know who you are, but it. Was. Just. A. Fire." Dustin says, eyes determined, but scared.

"I'm Eddie." Eddie pauses, considering a new possibility that frightens him even more than Steve's injuries, "Did you guys.. Did you get threatened? Whoever did this," he gestures at Steve's face, "are they making you stay quiet? I can help you. I know people."

Dustin sighs and goes back to watching the door, the frightened look in his eyes becoming something haunted. Robin bites her lip, and Steve cracks open his good eye to look at Eddie, tears welling up.

"They w're- Eds, you gotta j'st- leave it be." He tells him, and a tear slips out and down his face, no doubt causing the scratches on his face to sting.

"Stevie. Please. Who hurt you?" Eddie whispers, tears blurring his vision now as he truly takes in his boyfriend. He feels helpless, and he can't even provide comfort the way he wants to because it might not be safe. He doesn't know Robin, not truly. And he doesn't know the kids at all.

Steve makes the decision for him, lifting one shaking, weak hand to clumsily wipe away a tear that's escaped.

"'s okay, Teddy. L've you." He says, and Eddie hates himself a bit. Because Steve's trying to comfort him while he's laying in a hospital bed. Eddie raises his hand to cover Steve's where it still rests on his cheek, supporting and holding it there.

"I love you too." He whispers back after a harsh sniffle, and hears Robin beside him making a noise of understanding.

"Oh, you're his- right." She mumbles to herself, shooting Steve a look to which he gives her a slight smile of confirmation. Eddie raises his eyebrows at the implication. Steve had come out to her?

"Yeah. And if you have a problem with it, well. Like I said, I know people." He tells her, putting on his best bitchy smile as he slowly puts Steve's hand back to rest on the bed. He ignores Steve's noise of complaint to keep eye contact with Robin. He hopes he's being intimidating.

"No need for all that. I know Dorothy too." Robin replies, and Eddie just nods. Feels a bit of the fear inside him deflate.

And then Dustin asks a question, and the little girl at his side rouses from her sleep.

"Who the fuck's Dorothy?"

"Mutual friend." Robin answers, tone clipped.

"Okay. I don't know what I've just woken up to. Who's this wannabe-goth nerd?" The little girl asks, voice full of sass as she raises an eyebrow at Eddie.

How she went from dead asleep to awake-enough-to-roast-him in five seconds, Eddie doesn't know. He narrows his eyes at the insult anyway.

"Eddie Munson. Metalhead extraordinaire, for your information. And you? What's an eight year old doing here?"

"Erica Sinclair. And I'm eleven, you long haired freak."

Eddie gapes at her, and distantly hears Steve giggle. For now, cautiously, he thinks that maybe things will be okay. Eventually.

-

some people asked to be tagged or replied about wanting a part two so i'm tagging: @djohawke @imyelenasexual @y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman @starxlark @f1inl3ey

[f4riedimples]

i bet you can do a katniss x fem reader smut

haunted

pairings: Katniss Everdeen x fem!reader

warnings:public!sex,degrading,fingering,dom!katniss,sub!reader,strap on,slight!daddy kink

word count:1803

“I know that I’m onto you, I’m onto you.”

“Hey baby.” Katniss said a bit coldly as her voice rasped. It wasn’t her attention to be rude, that was just her sometimes.

“hey! So are peeta and haymitch still coming over tonight?” You asked hopeful. You hadn’t seen haymitch in so long and honestly thought you never would again.

you both also noticed peeta had started to improve months after the rebellion which gave you hope.

“Definitely. I’d make sure of it if they tried to get out.” Before you know it you felt a small kiss on your forehead causing you to smile sweetly.

as Katniss started to walk away you came up behind her and started to lean up and kiss her neck a bit. This caused her to tense a bit In surprise and satisfaction.

your kisses were innocent but as you kissed her jaw you realized that this was doing more for her then wholesome affection.

you gave her a kiss on her sweet spot and almost innocently did everything become a blur before you were pinned up against the wall.

you felt her roughly kiss you which you quickly reciprocated. It felt good knowing how (hard she can fuck you) much she cared and love you.

you lightly push her away just for a tease but just as she was about to go back in the doorbell rang.

you gave a small pout as Katniss glared. You weren’t too upset but katniss definitely was. It was understandable though.

you went to the door and opened it to reveal haymitch. You immediately hugged him and almost let tears of joy fall. Before you can even pull away Katniss is hugging him as well.

once you both pull away, haymitch gives a genuine smile. “Well hello, sweethearts. I guess you too are glad to see me.”

you smile at the once mocking name turned into a genuine one of endearment.

“of course we did.” Katniss says softly with a happy smile.

as the night goes on of course peeta also comes with a a cake in hand. He looks like he’s genuinely starting to be happy again.

just like his old self.

the night is spent with a nice dinner and dessert, reminiscing on the past and thinking of the future, how far you’ve all come and how hard you all fought.

it all paid off.

eventually you and Katniss are sat on the couch as peeta and haymitch take a comfortable seat on the floor in front of you both. They seem too in bliss with their current conversation.

as you listen you suddenly feel a hand creeping up your leg. You rub your legs together to make sure you’re not just imagining things before turning your head to Katniss.

She seems to be looking at the two in front of you but you can tell she might have a serious gaze or smirk on her face.

she’s playfully arrogant but Also serious. Especially when she feels cheated. This wouldn’t be a look or facade just to make you quiver.

she felt like you were only trying to tease her already. Only trying to tease her and get away with it.

before you can try to focus on whatever haymitch and peeta are talking about you feel Katniss slip in her hand just on the waistband of your panties.

You feel her teasing you before slipping two fingers in. She’s already curling her fingers wanting to hit that spot.

you try to look at Katniss begging for pity but she isn’t even paying attention to you. You can’t believe it. You also can’t believe the way you’re struggling to hold back the softest moans already.

you’re too scared to close your eyes. Too scared that if you do it for a split second you’ll hear laughter or gasp. Or silence. Maybe a yell or words of question. Something.

suddenly you feel Katniss swiftly remove her hand sharply leaving you with an empty feeling. Now you feel a mix of emotions. On one hand you don’t wanna get caught but on the other now you’re craving Katniss.

you’re surprised You didn’t let out a gasp though. You almost drown thinking that Katniss is gonna stop and had just teased you.

you thought that.

your mind started to come back to the conversation before you feel something rubbing against your clothed clit. Damn her!, is all you can think.

You knew what she was planning to do. But you didn’t stop her. You wanted it. It was fucking wrong and selfish, respect lacking and greedy.

but you didn’t care. You needed this. No matter how shameful it was.

you start to feel Katniss move your panties to the side as she teases your entrance with strap on. You feel Katniss suddenly rubbing it back and forth against your clit firmly causing your eyes to widen, for you to purse you lips to not moan.

it felt so good. The pleasure was gone but before you could complain it was back but even better. Somewhere better.

you feel Katniss slowly and gently sliding the strap-on into you as she holds the side of your waist for leverage and assistance.

she wants to to immediately bottom out but she knows it’s not the best idea. As she listens to the conversation she slowly starts moving in and out. You can’t deny how good it feels.

you don’t know why but the fact that you guys are doing this in secret is turning you on even more. She grips your waist more firmly as she thrust in a little stronger.

she picks up the pace a tiny bit so it’s not teasing but so it’s also soft. As you let her do this you guys hear some noise outside of the house and realize that’s it’s probably some lost animals just rummaging around.

but thankfully this extra noise causes more noise and even for haymitch and peeta to laugh and talk more.

usually you would think they would turn around to try and include you and Katniss in conversation, only to be shocked or suspicious at how quiet you’re both being with the look on your face.

but thankfully they don’t.

and with this extra noise Katniss uses this as an advantage to pick up the pace a tiny bit more. It’s a little fast now but it’s not causing too much noise that could be picked up.

you immediately clasp your hand over your mouth softly trying to hold it all in. You look to the corner of your eye as Katniss leans right in your ear and speaks.

“Are you a slut? Or maybe a whore? Either way you’re acting like one getting fucked in front of your best friends.” You almost threw your head back because even though her words worried you they also turned you on.

“Answer the damn question.” Katniss hissed in your ear as she continued to fuck you. You tried to shake your head no as you looked at her with the most pathetic eyes.

but obviously it didn’t seem that way. She didn’t believe a word you said. “You are a slut. You’re my slut. You’re just letting me do this to you with no shame.”

she speed her movements in the slightest making sure not to bounce into couch. She didn’t want you to even try to let out the words you were going to.

Katniss took a peak under the covers just enough to see how wet the strap on was. She slowed down a bit to tease. “Poor little thing letting daddy use her.” A part of you just wanted to Katniss to shut up or at least you tried to convict yourself that.

her words were so dirty but sounded so good coming from her. “You like the feeling of my cock in you?” At this point you were wondering how good of a whisper Katniss was.

You know there’s noise coming from what feels like everywhere but how aren’t they hearing this? Suddenly you see Katniss moving her legs so they’re still on the couch. Before you know it she slowly slides all the way in and from anyone who doesn’t move the cover it just looks like you two are spooning.

You feel Katniss firmly grab your hand and take it away before starting small thrust. Small thrust that eventually get a tiny bit longer and harder.

“maybe if i remove the cover and spread your legs for me then our friends will know just how much of a whore you are. It would be a normal thing for you right?” Katniss mocks.

this is stupid. Immature. But so fucking good. “You like it when I fill you up this way. That’s why you aren’t complaining.” This is really starting to take you over the edge now.

you try not to let out a small whimper. You try so hard. Your breath picks up in the slightest as Katniss doesn’t let up. She reaches her hand under the cover and spreads your legs.

not only is she going deeper but now she’s able to rub your clit. You try to whisper back but you know it’s gonna be breathy and too loud.

all you can mouth is “fuck.”

you see Katniss gulp softly as she starts to cum. She grips the top of the couch with one hand and grips your hip with the other as she starts to go as fast as she can without making noises.

after she cums you’re right behind her. Katniss gives your neck some kisses and a small lick.

this was the real punishment. Fucking your like this in front over everyone.

Your legs almost tremble as you cum. You let out a small whimper that’s thankfully covered by the sound of haymitch and peeta letting out loud laughter. You can’t help it anymore.

you turn to Katniss and give her a lustful kiss not caring if you get caught in the aftermath. At first you wanted to walk away after this act in front of your friends but it made you feel too many things.

you wipe your brow to make sure you’re not sweating and you’re thankful to realize your skin just heated up a bit.

you look at Katniss and wait. She slowly pulls out almost causing you to moan. Just as you were fixing your bottoms it seemed as though the night was over.

you almost wanted to believe they know. It feels impossible but they seem so unaware. Katniss looks calm as ever so you immediately try to make sure you look the same.

Katniss tucked her toy away, you got up and went out of the living room with slight jelly legs.

Katniss said her goodbyes and good nights to your friends as if nothing happened.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

HAN LUE HEADCANONS PT. 2

pairing: han lue x waitress!reader

words: 5.2k

warnings: smut

notes: there's something about that gif that drives me crazy

PT. 1 PT.3

-han goes with you to get your drivers license. it's funny because in the small waiting room there's a bunch of high school students and then there's you, a twenty something year old woman without a license.

-when you walk out after the practical exam he sees your grimace. han has no trouble believing you failed, until your lips stretch into a wide smile and you pull out the plastic identification from behind your back.

-han sighs in relief, kissing your cheek and muttering an 'i knew you could do it.' if he can teach you how to drive he can teach anyone to drive.

-han adores you but he rarely lets you drive his 1997 Mazda RX-7 FD. you're not stupid you know you're a terrible driver, i mean you barely passed the exam. getting your license changes nothing, you still take the bus and train whenever han is not the one driving you. like he said, it's only for emergencies.

-han decide to race one day and begs for you to come with him in the car. you're scared shitless but agree, trusting han wouldn't let anything happen to you. you make a deal that if he wins, he gets a prize. best believe that man won for you.

-the prize? you getting the nipple piercings he suggested. you had to admit that they looked sexy on other people and you like making han happy. not that he wouldn't be if you didn't get them. he'd love you just the same.

-you researched a good piercing parlor and made the reservation. han went with you for moral support and to hold your hand. he didn't mind the piercer was male or that he got to see you topless because at the end of the day you were all his.

-you laid back on the piercing chair. your chest was heaving as you internally panicked. you wanted this but the possible pain you might feel scared you. the piercer marked your nipples, had you look in the mirror to confirm that's the placement you wanted, and had you lie back on the chair again.

han held your hand and kissed your head, "look at me, baby."

he distracted you as the piercer prepped the needle, it was better if you didn't even see the long needle.

"you can't break up with me for a year, han," you half joke out of panic. you say that because it can take up to a year for it to heal completely.

"i wasn't planning on letting you go anytime soon," he says with a half smile.

the piercer gave you a heads up he was going to start. you squeezed hans hand and squeezed your eyes shut. unintentionally you held your breath, bracing yourself for the needle piercing your skin.

"baby, breathe," han tells you, using his other hand so touch your cheek and make you react. you nod, eyes still closed and take a few breaths. "good girl."

the pain stings momentarily, decreasing in intensity in waves till it's only a dull ache. with hans assistance on preventing you from fainting, both nipples are done in no time.

the piercer leaves the room so can inspect them and make sure they're what you asked for. you stand to look at yourself in the full length mirror, han behind you, looking at you through the mirror.

they looked great, you both thought so. han comes up behind you, kissing your cheek and whispering in your ear, "worth it?"

"so far," you respond with a smile.

-han can't take his eyes away from your tits from then on. often asking you to show him. whenever you wore a shirt without a bra around the house he'd go a little feral as the studs from the piercings poked through the thin fabric.

-han has trouble falling asleep, it's one of the reasons his sleep schedule is so fucked. he's lived through a lot of crazy shit in his life and has lost people along the way. those moments tend to haunt him when he's about to sleep.

-it's gotten better ever since you started sleeping over at his apartment or viceversa. he distracts himself with you, touching your skin, rubbing soothing circles on it, the smell of your shampoo as he hugs you to his chest. having you beside him distracts him enough to fall asleep, though those thoughts resurface in his dreams.

-the memory of gisele sacrificing her life for his is one of the things that keeps han up. gisele never did anything she didn't want to do, letting go of him to protect him was her choice. it doesn't mean it hurt han any less. he is the one who has to live without her.

-gisele was one of the few women han has ever loved. she was the first woman that made him want to settle down, possibly even have a family if she wanted.

-han came to tokyo as a promise he made to himself, he'd been postponing it for long enough. he thought he'd visit along with gisele, but that was not possible any longer.

-for a time han believed he was meant to be alone, so he fell into the life of a bachelor. similar to who he was before gisele. he flirted with girls and slept around with them, accepting his fate. until he met you.

-you swept him off his feet so easily. you were like a drug he became addicted to, and he'd know how that feels, considering his past nicotine addiction.

-if gisele hadn't died, he wouldn't have met you and he wouldn't have this amazing relationship. but if she hand't died he would still be with gisele, settling down in the same city. possibly equally as happy.

-both of those futures are ones he can get on board with, but han prefers not dwelling on it and accepting that things in life happen for a reason. han would find it impossible to chose between you or gisele.

-telling you about his past means telling you about gisele. you'd be in bed early in the morning not waking up but falling asleep. he'd tell you about how he met her, what charmed him about her, and their time traveling across the world. lastly, he'd tell you about her death.

-you would never dare say it out loud but in a way you're glad she did what she did because it got you han. you have a hard time imagining what your life would be like without him since he has weaved himself into it so effortlessly.

-you're intimidated by this woman. she's everything you're not. she was a secret spy who knew how to race and fight. she's the definition of badass. and here you are, a simple waitress, wanna be chef who barely knows how to drive.

-but that's the thing about han, he doesn't have a type. as long as you're a good person (according to his standards, which are very different to a normal persons) then you have an in. he loves you so goddamn much it scares him. he loves your kindness, the fiery-ness inside of you, your beauty, you personality. yes, you could be a better driver but that's what you got him for.

-he likes that you're not involved in a life of crime and that you avoid it at all costs. he loves that he's the only danger you've accepted in your life. because it means that you're safe. it means you won't fall off of a fucking plane.

-han's apartment is way more spacious than yours, because unlike you he can afford it. because of it you spend most of your time together in his home. not many people know where he lives. in fact, it might be just you.

-it happens naturally, you don't force yourself into his life. it's han's choice to keep you around and since he's the one that drives he leaves you no choice. instead of taking you to your apartment he drives to his instead. you now have a drawer full of your things in his apartment.

-one night before you head to work you're sitting on the bed, putting on your converse. han comes out of the shower, he was dropping you off and heading to the races. he stands in front of you as he checks his phone.

-he smells like your coconut and vanilla body wash. he just stands there, a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets falling from his hair down his chest and stomach. han is the most handsome man in the world in your eyes. his warm skin tone, his attentive eyes, and soft smiles.

-with a bite of your lip you tug on the towel, pulling him between your legs. he's invested on whatever's on his phone so he doesn't notice the mischievous look in your eyes.

-you lick a water droplet falling down his abdomen and proceed to leave open mouthed kisses all over his stomach, going lower and lower till the towel stops you.

-you don't appreciate his lack of attention so you playfully nip the taught skin of his tummy.

"ow," han complains, sending you a fake glare.

you shrug and say, "your baby needs attention."

"i think she just needs my cock," he responds, tilting his head. he throws the phone on the bed, and tilts your chin up to look at you, "is that right?"

-you nod your head and bite your lip, he lets go of your chin and signals you to go ahead. with a bright smile you undo the towel on his hips, letting it fall to the floor. you grab his cock with your soft hands and stick your tongue out to lick his length base to tip. you leave a cheeky kiss on his tip, spreading the bead of precum that formed on your pink lips.

-han watches you with hooded eyes, brushing your hair back to give him a better view. he ruts his hips when you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head. you hold onto his thighs as you hollow your cheeks around him.

-this is equally as pleasurable for you as it is for han. having his full attention on you makes you act up, it gets your panties wet.

-a quiet groan leaves him when you dip your tongue on his slit, swirling it around his mushroomed head afterwards.

-when you take him completely in your warm mouth your nose brushes against the dark patch of hair at his base. your tight throat forces han to buck his hips, wanting to go deeper. so much so tears accumulate on your lash line.

-taking control, han grabs a tighter hold of your hair and fucks into your mouth. he closes his eyes, throwing his head back in pleasure. this is what you wanted all along, to be used by him.

-his cock is hard and warm on your mouth. throbbing with each thrust into your pretty mouth. you can still smell the scent of your body wash along with the peculiar smell of sex, it's addicting.

-han looks down at you to make sure you're doing okay. you're already looking up at him, and the sight of you might make him cum alone.

-soon he feels the familiar tightening of his balls and his pace falters. "you're going to swallow my cum, baby?" he groans out. you hum around han and it throws him over the edge. one last time he pushes into your aching mouth and releases ropes of white down your throat.

-coming off his high he lets go of your now messy hair. as you pull off his cock, a stream of saliva connects the two of you. your under eyes and lashes are wet and your mouth and nose flushed, yet this is one of the most beautiful you've ever looked. teasingly you stick out your tongue showing han you swallowed it all.

-han is shameless so grabbing his discarded phone off the bed he snaps a picture of you, his cock in frame still. in the end, han catches your puffy lips in a wet kiss. the fact you just went down on him doesn't bother him in the least.

-with a quick glance at the clock you notice you're running late for work. despite the distraction, han gets you to work on time. nothing a speeding car can't fix.

-the first big fight between you and han is intense. the two of you never fight, you might argue about petty stuff but it's nothing serious. this time around is different.

-you have taken to going out with han to the club he owns on occasion. it's a time where you both have fun, drink, dance, flirt...all normal things.

-except one day you tell han you're not going because you had promised to go out with mindy. when mindy cancels, you decide to show up in han's club to surprise him. you knew he was there, seeing the orange mazda parked by the entrance.

-you go in, excited to spend time with him. you walk past the first area into the empty hallway and into the other room where han tends to hangout.

-you weave through the crowd of dancing people and spot him by the bar. you're about to call out to him when you notice two girls by his sides as he talks to a guy you don't know.

-you really try not to let it bother you but when one of the women starts whispering in his ear and you see him nodding to her words as she touches his chest, you loose it.

-tears burn your eyes, not out of sadness but out of frustration. is this what he does when you can't make it? good to know he finds a way to keep himself entertained.

-han sees you as you glare at him and turn to leave the stuffy place. at first he doesn't catch why you're glaring at him. he instantly follows you and only manages to catch up to you outside.

"baby, where are you going?"

"home," you spit angrily, continuing to walk, "have fun with your whores."

"what are you on about?" han asks, jogging to catch up to you.

you turn back on your heels and stare at him in disbelief, "what am i on about? i was excited to come here and spend time with you and instead i find you wrapped around two fake blondes whispering in your ear. its real reassuring to know you have company when i'm not around," you scream angrily, tears threatening to spill. you didn't want to cry, but your frustration couldn't be contained.

"baby, it's nothing, and nothing was going to happen," han reassures you, sighing in disbelief that you're angry about this.

"i have a hard time believing that," you scoff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him.

"why are you so jealous? i've never given you a reason to. hell, i spend all my time with you!" han argues, begging for you to look at him. he's getting angry as well at the fact you're acting so distrusting.

"god, han how do you want me to feel when i see you around them, huh? you want me to smile and let them be all over you? please, don't embarrass me that way," you exclaim, tears starting to roll down.

"i want you to understand that it's not what you think and that they are friends of mine. i love you, i would never even think of cheating on you," han says. he hates seeing you cry and he wants to go over to you and wipe your tears away but you're being unreasonable.

"and they probably don't know about me either, right? i know you like keeping your secrets," you sniff. it took sean and twinkie months to learn you even existed.

hans stays quiet, letting her know all she needs to. "right," you scoff. you wipe tear after tear away but they continue to fall. turning around you go out into the street to get a taxi.

"it's not because i don't want to. i do it to protect you," he says exasperated, "stop running away from the argument!" han calls out your name, something he rarely does. this is serious. "it's not fair."

"what isn't?" you ask, waiting for a taxi to make an appearance.

"that you don't trust me," han speaks from behind her, "i trust you completely, i don't question you when you go out with your friends."

"that's because i don't let random men all over me!" you yell again, refusing to apologize.

"they aren't random girls, they are friends. fuck, they even have boyfriends!" han screams back at you. it's the first time he raises his voice at you. he's equally as frustrated at you are.

-he doesn't even understand how the night ended up like this, screaming in the streets of tokyo. there's very few people that can make him blow up like that and he hates it.

"whatever, han," a taxi eventually pulls up and you get in it, leaving han behind.

-the next night han doesn't go over to the diner, but he does wait till you finish your shift, preferring to drive you home. the fight might've been bad but not bad enough where he'll let you go back to walking alone in the middle of the night. he still loves you after all.

-the drive is quiet and long, he's not speeding like he usually does. he's giving you time to speak or apologize but nothing comes so he plays along. the same cycle repeats for the following days, neither wants to apologize and neither wants to terminate the relationship.

-by the sixth day you're over it, you miss han, you miss his attention, his touches, his voice even. you admit you overreacted. you personally blame it on hormonal mood swings, because the following day you got your period.

-he picks you up as usual, without a word. you get into his car and try to think about what to say. you really hope you haven't ruined your relationship.

-han hears a sniffle and turns to see you trying to hold back tears.

"hey hey hey, are you okay? did something happen?" he asks softly, finding somewhere to park. he's worried something bad happened at work.

"i'm so stupid, han. please, i'm sorry," you cry, "the other night i just got so jealous. i do trust you. please, forgive me."

it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, han can breathe properly again. "baby, i'm sorry too. i never realized how you would feel seeing me like that with others even if they are just my friends."

"i missed you," you tell him, looking into his eyes.

"i missed you, more," he responds with a soft smile.

with a trembling bottom lip, you throw yourself over the middle console to hug him. he hugs you back just as tightly, kissing your head.

"lets go home," han says.

-you guys are an adventurous couple. you find ways to spice up your sex lives on the daily. han likes to tease you...a lot. if you were going to the club, or on a date, or just drive around he'd challenge you to try to cum before you arrive at your destination.

-you accept each and every time. proping one leg on the dash of hans car (you're the only one allowed) you lift your skirt or dress up your hips and slide a hand in between your legs.

-you moan and whine are you circle your clit and dip a finger into your pussy. meanwhile han races through the streets of tokyo to prevent you from reaching your peak.

"han, i need you," you moan over the sounds of your wet center. "hannie, please." to distract him even further you push away the straps of your dress, letting it fall down to your waist, revealing your chest.

-han only spares you a glance, his pants tightening instantly at your exposed state. you clearly knows his weakness. han presses harder on the pedal to go faster.

"han, baby, i'm so close," you release a high pitched moan. your movements quicken only for your hand to be stopped by your boyfriend.

-somewhere along the way you had closed your eyes. han won this time around, having arrived at your destination.

"maybe next time, baby," han smirks, fixing the top of your dress before anyone sees you, giving your boobs a little squeeze along the way.

you sigh in frustration, letting your foot fall from the dash and closing your legs in a more appropriate manner.

"i never win this game," you huff, opening the door of the humid car.

-because han is so laid back you like to act like a brat to mess with him. i'm talking bending down in front of him, showing him your underwear or lack there of, rubbing yourself against him while you dance, or whispering dirty things in his ear while he talks to his friends.

-he'd be cool, unbothered, trying his best to ignore you until you're left alone for a second. if you're walking in front of him he'd gently pull your hair, bringing your head back as he whispers in your ear, "keep acting like that and see what happens." then han would walk off, pulling you behind him as if he didn't just soak your panties.

-in time, takashi learns about you and meets you. it's a consequence of getting more involved in han's life. he low key likes you in a friendly way. you act laid back in a similar matter to han. most importantly you don't meddle with things that don't concern you, if he has to talk business with han you're the first one to stand up and go. you're just not interested, the less you know the better. if it were up to han he wouldn't let you go, preferring to have you by his side.

-whenever he goes around han's club takashi always says hello and even buys you drinks. he likes you because you're not a foreigner unlike sean or twinkie or even han.

-surprisingly what makes you click with takashi is food recommendations. yes, the intimidating DK has great restaurant's to recommend.

-terrible news come when you find out the diner is closing. the entire staff was called in for a meeting during the day. you didn't think much of it, believing it would be a change of ownership as it's happened in the past.

-when the owner announces that they are closing from that day forward, you panic. this is your job without it you have no income. you take your time before you return to a sleeping han. you had to think and come up with a solution soon.

-back in the apartment you enter quietly knowing han is probably still asleep. you take off your shoes and trudge over to the bed, falling on it gently.

-you take in han as he sleeps peacefully, he likes to sleep on his stomach, hugging your waist, but if you're not there then a pillow will take your place, like now.

-for the most part he sleeps shirtless, because he gets hot at night. you begin tracing your fingers over his back softly, almost tickling him. han starts waking up because of your touch.

-you tell him all about the diner closing in whispers, feeling safe and calm in the confines of the bedroom. he listens quietly as you process your thought out loud. he lies back on the pillows with you pressed against his chest, tracing shapes with your fingers over his skin.

"what's the plan now?" han asks. his hand under your shirt, rubbing your back.

"find another job. tokyo is big, i'm bound to find something quickly," you shrug, pressing a kiss to his chest. it's been a long afternoon of nothing. just resting in bed and spending time with han.

"what about your dream?" he wonders.

"which one?" you giggle, knowing you talk a lot of hopes and dreams.

"becoming a chef, opening up a restaurant..." han reminds you, glancing at your face.

"it's a dream, hannie. i can barely afford my apartment right now, i can't open a restaurant," you say disappointed. owning a restaurant will never be possible for you.

"you have me, let me help you," han hums casually as if he just offered to buy you a drink at a bar.

"i can't ask that of you, han. it's too much money," you instantly refuse, propping yourself up to stare at your boyfriend.

"i want to help you, baby. i've tasted your cooking and it's one of the best things i've tried in my life. i believe in your dream," han mentions, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"i don't know," you say unsure, tilting your head as you overthink things. you don't want han to believe you're with him for his money.

"see it this way. i'll be your investor, when the time comes you'll buy me out," he offers an alternative, knowing that otherwise you wouldn't agree.

"are you sure?" you ask once again.

"i am," he nods, pecking your pouty lips.

"i don't deserve you," you say as a smile breaks out from your lips.

-you get to work quickly on the restaurant of your dreams because time is money and you're serious about this. this is not another project you can start and leave half way through.

-you end up buying out the space the diner used to be at. since the owner knows you, he didn't totally screw you over.

-having the space and working with architects and designers for the interior of it. you're left to work on the menu. you don't want it to be one menu for the next three years, you want it to change with the seasons and the produce that's available at those times. you want it all to be as fresh as possible.

-han takes the back seat on the whole restaurant thing, trusting you know what you're doing. he opens up an account for the restaurant where you can dip in for whatever you need.

-with the restaurant under renovation you spend your time in the kitchen, working on the menu for the opening. han would be generous enough to help you with the dishes and being a taste tester. he hates to admit he’s gained a few pounds but you love it.

-with the sudden change in your schedule you're actually sleeping at night and working during the day. but you and han make it work despite your different sleep schedules.

-han is the type of boyfriend to kiss your head whenever he has to leave and you're asleep. he does the same when he comes back late at night and cuddles up to you. just a quick peck on your forehead.

-you like when he does it, since it lets you know he's back home safe and sound. you always lift up the sheets so he can het closer to your body and spoon you.

-han gets you a pair of very expensive Opyum YSL high heels for your birthday. it's a very indulgent present, because he got them to feed into his kink of fucking you with heels on.

-one year and half into your relationship han asks you to move in with him. you barely spend time at yours anyway, if you do go there it's to do laundry. you agree but not before you have a long conversation as to what this relationship means to the two of you.

"hannie, i need to know. where do you see this relationship going?" han means the world to you and you see a future with him. you'd love to get married and have kids in the next ten years. you know you haven't been very long with him but it's something that's better to discuss now.

han takes a minute to respond as he gathers his thoughts but his answer is confident, "i don't care where it goes as long as i'm with you." whatever you want he will give you. a big wedding, small wedding, eloping, live together.

-you smile at his answer and continue to talk about your future together. you learn he wants children, two of them to be precise. in the past he didn't want any, yet as he grew older and some of his friends had children of their own he realized it wouldn't be a bad thing at all.

-han isn't one to listen to a ton of music, he doesn't have a preference either. unlike some people he likes listening to his thoughts. you on the other hand always have music blasting. since you two live together han is somewhat forced to listen to whatever you are listening to. as long as it makes you happy he endures it.

-han starts memorizing and vibing to your music in no time. often times you'll find him singing under his breath. if you leave an album in his car he might even listen to it. out of all the music you listen to he likes girl groups the most and will even go to concerts with you.

-han doesn't smoke cigarettes anymore, he hasn't in a long time but he has indulged in smoking weed on occasion. one calm night you're home, watching tv and han asks if you mind. you don't as long as he shares.

-you were asthmatic as a child and try not to be around smokers much but you'd lie if you hadn't tried smoking both weed and cigarettes in your college years.

-weed is highly illegal in japan, but han has contacts so buying it was a piece of cake. he rolls it himself, impressing you with his abilities. you sit on his lap as you pass the joint between the two of you.

-han blows rings into the air, making you giggle. some things he can't forget like the silly tricks or the burn in his lungs. you cough for the first few puff's and he thinks you're cute.

-you forgot weed made you horny so an hour and a half later you find yourself straddling han’s lap, kissing him. the taste of weed on both your tongues. you roll your hips against him, your panties soaked, getting his pants wet.

-han gets lazy when he's high so he lets you do as you please. getting it up is not a problem. discarding your underwear and undoing hans pants you ride his hard cock slowly. you relish having him deep inside of you.

-you throw your head back in pleasure and he lifts your t shirt to take one nipple into his mouth, playing with the metal bar adorning it. getting the piercing made you so much more sensitive to nipple stimulation.

-han watches you. your face scrunched in pleasure as you grind your hips against him. he lives for the show, your sweat shining pretty under the lights.

-you're on the shorter side so han is always taking things down from the cabinets for you. he lets you struggle first though seeing your as your skirt rising up, exposing your body to his eyes. han could keep his stuff on the lower shelves but he likes to feel needed by you.

-just as he is observant with others han reads you like a book. he knows what you’re feeling before you figure it out yourself, including what you feel in bed. he knows when you’re gonna cum before you do. your body gives him all the indication he needs.

pt.3

im also accepting requests!

if you’d like me to tag you let me know!

y’all don’t know how much i love this gif. i'm an idiot that thinks he’s so fucking cool. the flipping of the bag is nothing out of this world and here i am, swooning over it.

[mysticficti0n]

hiyaaa I love the Colby fic and I was wondering if you could do a short one of like y/n gong through a break up but she doesn't tell him or sam (and could Kat be in it- they're all roomates sorta thing) and she doesn't rlly come out her room and they get worried until Colby goes up and she breaks and he comforts her- like fluffy stuff plz

omg yes this sounds so cutie so ofcc!!! I don't know if its great as I'm very tired but I hope you guys enjoy, It feels good to be writing for someone new but I do still love Tokio Hotel !! I did a very quick proof read but if I missed anything sorry !!

Broken Heart

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

warnings- ColbyBrockxFem/Reader, swearing, fluff, comfort, best friends, care, reader is cheated on

words- 1.7k

Y/n's POV

"I don't understand why you're so angry Y/n?" Justin looked to me, my eyes narrowed "she was just a fri-"

"Shut the fuck up! you keep saying she was a friend but friends don't fuck each other" I screamed- it was killing me, my boyfriend of 6 years cheating on me with his 'friend', his friend who is his phone had hearts next to her name, every message had a 'xxx' at the end, winky faces and peaches shared until one day...today, I go to his apartment 5 minuets from mine to see him in bed, his hands laying on the red-heads hips

"I-it's just a miss understanding Y/n please!" he begged but I couldn't forgive him- not for this "look let me apologise and we can re-start"

"yeah after 6 whole years? good idea Justin let me just forget everything huh?" I yelled, his eyes dropped he knew I wasn't going to take it "just leave"

"no- Y/n I can make it up to you" he pleaded again and again, hands reaching for mine but I pulled away, backing from him

"get the fuck out of my house Justin" my voice was low "go through the fucking door and don't come back- get out" I watched him give me one more look and he left, leaving me with the haunting memories of him with someone else, those 6 years down the drain. The pain settled in quicker then expected, my chest heaved up and down as I sobbed into my pillow as I stared into the images of me and him dotted around my room, the light from the day slowly faded leaving me in darkness, only figures in my room kept me company, my face ached, my whole body did, especially my head so I decided to sleep, sleep would keep me safe, sleep was quiet, sleep was calm.

Kat's POV

Me, Sam and Colby walked into the house, it was silent, no music or tv playing which was unusual if Y/n and Justin were in "think they went out or something I mean its 9- might be like their date night?" Sam spoke putting his keys onto the kitchen island

"Maybe... I'll check up stairs" I smiled quickly leaving the two to find Y/n, I got to her door and pushed it open to see her room pitch black, not any of her candles lit, or lamp on "Y/n?" I whispered and a body shifted under the covers "Y/n, you okay?" I spoke coming in a little more to her room

"fine, just tired" she hummed turning over facing away from me in the doorway

"oh okay- where's Justin?" I asked, most days he's in the house, I mean he was meant to move in with us in a few weeks

"I dunno" she answered in a yawn, I oh'ed, the mood didn't feel right but I decided to leave her in peace, I closed the door and made my way into mine and Sam's room, he was sat on the bed flicking through his phone until he saw me walk in

"she okay?" he asked

"think so- said she is and she's tired" he nodded looking back to his phone "Justin isn't here though" his gaze flicked back up to which I just nodded

"he basically lives here, why wouldn't he be here? and its a Saturday night and ever since they got together he was here every weekend" I shrugged climbing in bed next to the blonde, resting my head on him

"who knows"

The night went by, and the three of us were up in the kitchen, the clock read '12:48pm' and Y/n was still In her room, still in silence, I told Colby what I had told Sam and he seemed just as confused, we decided to order some dinner, just something small and ordered Y/n some too, I was sure something had happened but... maybe I was thinking to much into it

"foods here" Sam spoke bring it in, Colby was half way up the stairs as he said he was going to go get his hoodie from his room "Colby grab Y/n" the other called getting a thumbs up by him

Colby's POV

I jumped up the rest of the stairs going to Y/n's room first, it was weird for her not to be up, she's always awake before me at least but the house was just missing her, I knocked twice before hearing a voice murmur a small 'come in' I pushed it open and saw her body curled in her coves, curtains pulled shut, and tissues thrown onto the floor "hey- you okay?" I asked coming over to the side of the bed where it was empty. Her eyes flickered open and looked up to me

"yeah- think I'm getting Ill" she hummed, sitting herself up, I looked to her face and saw her nose was red and eyes glossy "just a cold"

"hm yeah- we've got dinner down stairs, got you a burger and fries" I spoke as I watched her, she nodded pulling her sheets away and crawling out the side she walked past me and straight to the stairs, I followed forgetting my hoodie and just went to her side, I could see her clearly now, mascara around her eyes along with dark circles, her hair wet on one side, the usual dark lipstick she wore, smudged against her cheek

"hey Y/n" Kat smiled passing her a bag of food "feeling better?"

"no don't feel it- thanks for the food but I think I'll eat up stairs- don't wanna make you guys sick" she spoke, her voice sounding gravelly and tired

"Y/n we don't care, come sit on the couch with us- we can watch a film or something- we have yours and Justins favourite, Tita-" Sam went to continue until the girl beside me face dropped

"I don't wanna sit down here" was the last thing she snapped before hurrying away and her door slammed, I looked to the others who just stood stunned...

the week carried on, time passing by as it does and still no sight of Y/n, I was getting worried she's never like this, I sat alone down stairs as Kat and Sam had gone out somewhere and the only thing that went through my mind was her, I couldn't help the fact I was thinking of her, Y/n's never in her room if someones in the house or if she is in her room- someones with her

but why is she acting off- everything was so different, I couldn't help but be nosey, it was all in good intention of course, thats what I kept telling myself as I stood ear to the door of her room just listening; her voice mumbled incoherent words, small little cries leaving her every so often, my body relaxed a little to much and I ended up falling against the door "Colby?" her voice called 'fuck' I cursed to myself before pushing her door open again "were you fucking listening through my door?" her tone was angry, a cry halting in her throat

"Look I'm sorry but I'm worried about you" I said, I didn't want to keep it from her, I was worried, scared even "you didn't even eat your food" I spoke looking to the bag still sat scrunched on her desk "what happened?"

"I'm fine Colby okay? For days people keep fucking asking me if I'm okay and I fucking am" she ragged the sheet over her "just get the fuck out"

"Y/n you're not fucking fine- I've known you long enough to know this isn't how you act all the time" I didn't mean for my voice to raise at her but I was annoyed but not with her, she was going through something and didn't want to admit it "what happened" I said, my voice stern. The covers flipped from her body, her eyes welled with tears, face wet

"He fucking cheated on me- There better? you know now, my boyfriend of 6 years cheated on me because I'm not good enough for him and I can't think straight, I feel sick all the goddamn time and all I have every hour is 'you okay Y/n?' No I'm fucking not" her voice broke, the sobs that once heaved in her chest being released

"I'm sorry" I spoke, coming next to her bed, she looked up to me and her face snapped, pearls of tears slipping down her cheeks

"Why wasn't I good enough, Colbs?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow, her head buried in her hands. I couldn't bear to see her in such pain. Without thinking, my arms enveloped her fragile frame, pulling her close to my chest as I settled on the edge of her mattress.

"You're more than good enough, Y/n – I promise you that," I reassured her, my voice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions raging within her. Y/n's face found refuge in the curve of my neck, and I could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into my skin. It broke my heart to witness her suffering. "Did he do anything to hurt you?" I asked gently, my concern deepening as I held her tighter. She shook her head, her breath hitching between sobs.

"He... he just said she was a friend, but then I walked in on them having sex at his apartment," she confessed, the pain evident in every word. My fingers traced gentle patterns along her back, offering what little comfort I could. "I just don't understand why," she continued, her eyes red and swollen from the tears. I nodded, listening intently as she poured her heart out.

"He's just stupid, Y/n. You're nothing but perfect," I whispered, my hand tenderly cupping her jaw, guiding her to look into my eyes. "He's the one who's made the biggest mistake of his life by letting someone as amazing as you slip away."

She nodded, her tear-stained eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. In that moment, as I held her close, I vowed to be her pillar of support – a reminder that despite the pain, she was deserving of love and happiness. Together, we would navigate through the shadows, and I would do everything in my power to mend the shattered pieces of her heart.

"thanks Colby" Y/n smiled, hugging herself back into my chest

[momojedi]

Could I have #88 and #97 with Captain Rex, pretty please...??

JUST MARRIED PAIRING: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

#88 | “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…” #97 | “I want you and I know you want me too.”

GENRE: Fluff WARNING: none A/N: Since I got prompted #88 by an anon who asked for no one in particular, I mixed up your request with theirs. Thanks for requesting!

MASTERLIST | MOMOJEDI'S 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

"Mhi solus tome,

Mhi solus dar’tome.

Mhi me’dinui an,

Mhi ba’juri verde."

Intense concentration furrows my brow as I massage my temples, striving to translate the unfamiliar words. "For fuck's sake," I mutter, frustration punctuating each syllable as I kick a nearby pebble with surprising strength, eliciting a muffled groan and the metallic clang of beskar as it ricochets off a distant helmet.

Two weeks may not seem long, especially when operating undercover among a terrorist faction whilst the galaxy is engulfed in war. It would probably be advisable to keep a cool head and avoid making a big deal out of insignificant subjects—such as unfamiliar phrases. However, when those words escape the lips of your longtime crush, delivered with an unexpected fervor while locking passionate eyes with you in a language foreign to your ears...

Well, needless to say, I've devoted more time to overthinking it than I care to admit.

When General Skywalker tasked us with shadowing Death Watch until the Jedi Council reached more intel, I hadn't given it much thought... admittedly, he hadn't specified that by "us" he didn't mean Ahsoka and me, as usual, but rather the captain of the 501st and myself—the very someone I've harboured feelings for since the day we met.

Nevertheless, I maintained my composure, played my part, and stayed under the radar, much like Rex, until Death Watch proposed an elaborate ceremony—a ceremony whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone understand its significance. Before any suspicion could arise, Rex quickly agreed in my place, and now here I am, entangled in some eerie ritual with a military captain whose gaze seemed entranced, so intense was his focus.

"If I had my datapad right now...," I hiss under my breath, casting blame on whoever decided I should leave my sole translation device behind. Likely Skywalker.

The crunch of gravel under heavy boots interrupts my daydreaming. I spin around sharply, only to find the very man haunting my mind approaching. "I figured I'd find you here," Rex hums as he settles beside me. "Yeah," I reply with a dry laugh, brushing the dust off my hands. "Sorry, I suppose I just needed... alone time. After everything yesterday, you know?" Rex's eyes widen almost comically, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Oh... yeah."

The ensuing silence gnaws at my nerves, prompting me to pop the question after another agonising five minutes. "Hey, about that... what did those words mean, anyway?" "I'm not sure what you're referring to," Rex responds, avoiding my gaze. I gulp. He can't have forgotten, can he? "Come on, Rex... It seemed significant." After a moment's hesitation, Rex sighs, running a hand over his buzzcut before raising his head to face me, though still evading it. "I..." "Yes?" "Alright, fine. [Name], don't panic, but... we might have accidentally... gotten married."

...

"WHAT?"

"Shh!" Rex quiets me with a gentle hand over my mouth, his eyes darting cautiously around us before he releases me. I shake my head slowly, puzzled. "Sorry, but what?" "The, um, the words... they were Mandalorian wedding vows," he admits, his tone tinged with uncertainty. I can't help but laugh. Married? Us? "You're joking." "Unfortunately not," he replies, a slight smile tugging at his lips, before his expression shifts to sheepishness as he rubs the back of his neck. "Though I do believe you'd make an excellent partner." Suppressing a chuckle, I ignore the warmth creeping into my cheeks.

"Actually, I realized we needed a distraction when I overheard some members gossiping behind our backs. They were growing suspicious, so I thought perhaps they'd relax if we participated in some traditions." Rex sighs, examining a pebble he's picked up. I shoot him a hopeful sidelong glance before quickly looking away, feeling my heart quicken.

Force, this man is captivating.

Silence envelops us once more as we both drift deeper into our own thoughts. When I sense the gravel shifting under his weight, I raise an eyebrow. "It wouldn't bother me, you know?" A lump forms in my throat, causing a series of coughs to escape at his words. "Wh-what?" "Being with you." Suddenly, his warm yet weighty hand finds mine. Sweat prickles at my heated skin as I keep my gaze fixed ahead.

"R-rex, are you suggesting...?" "[Name]," he interrupts, turning to face me. Before I can evade his gaze, he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his eyes. I run my tongue over my dry lips, which his gaze is now fixated on. "I want you. And I know you want me, too." His proximity sends shivers down my spine as goosebumps ripple over my arms and back. His newfound confidence is palpable. "I've noticed the way you look at me, how you stare. I know, [name]," he murmurs against my lips, "what do you think?"

I flush, gripping his wrist as I lock eyes with his warm gaze. "I think you're right." Rex chuckles deeply, resonating like a rumble in his chest. "Good." And before I realize it, his lips meet mine,

Time seems to slip away as I surrender completely to the kiss. Eventually, Rex pulls back, leaving me breathless, and flashes me a mischievous grin.

“So, about that wedding night…”

[zegrasdrysdale]

also if your not uber uber busy could YOU PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE write a fic based off of one of these songs (feel free to do all of them my queen but NO PRESSURE) I also don't mind who the fic is with use who ever you feel would go best with it :)

Before you Go - Lewis Capaldi

It's Not Over - Daughtry

Goodbyes - post Malone

Circles - Post Malone

I hate you, I love you - Gnash

Mr Brightside - The Killers

Scars to your beautiful - Alessia Cara

Thank you I might request more but again no pressure

[ it’s not over ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie and his girlfriend broke up right before he was traded to Philly. when Jamie comes back to pack up the rest of his things, she tries to fight for them since she doesn’t believe it’s over for them

warning(s) : angst galore ! a few uses of Y/N

author’s note : giving me free range to write this abt whoever was probably not the best idea, especially when i like writing jamie angst 😈

fic inspired by :

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I was blown away What could I say? It all seemed to make sense You've taken away everything And I can't deal with that I try to see the good in life But good things in life are hard to find

The NHL season ended without a word from Jamie since the day he got traded to the Flyers in January. Nearly four months passed after he was traded and she never got so much as a text message from her former boyfriend of nearly two years.

They shared a whirlwind of a relationship where they met, said they loved each other, and moved into an Anaheim apartment down the street from Trevor all within a year.

She truly loved him, and she truly messed up before he left for the trip to Nashville that he never came back from.

She knew there were rumors going around Anaheim about Jamie's trade, and Jamie blocked them out every time he heard even a whisper about him getting traded out of Anaheim. He didn't want to hear the reality. When she tried to get him to see that, he walked out the door for the trip after they got into a fight. He packed a bag and spent the night at Trevor's.

Now that the season is over, she expects him to come back to finish packing whatever he didn't grab over the All Star break in February. She couldn't just leave the apartment. She couldn't leave all of the memories behind so easily, especially since she still loves him.

Trevor texts her the day after the season ends and tells her that Jamie is coming in soon to grab the last of his things. Jamie couldn't even let her know that he's coming by. She spends that night curled up in their bed.

We'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

The following morning, she's up early and thinks about what she can do to fix what's broken between them over a cup of coffee. She has no idea if he's mad at what she said or mad at the fact that he did get traded out of Anaheim.

Maybe she shouldn't have said anything about the trade before it happened. Maybe he wouldn't be about to move out the last few boxes he packed in February if she let him process his future trade on his own.

She fucked up, but maybe she can fix it. It's not over until they both think it's over, and she doesn't think it's over with them. She'll try to do it right this time. She'll be supportive of him instead of trying to get him to see reality. That's where she messed up because Jamie was probably trying to cope with the fact that he wasn't wanted in Anaheim anymore by the team that put their faith in him and drafted him 6th a few years ago.

All she wanted to do was prepare him for the possibility of being traded across the country, and she was met with radio silence since he walked out that door.

He walked out that door with her heart and took it across the country with him. She has to try to fix what's broken. She's not ready to say goodbye to him. She's not ready for him to become a memory or a ghost that haunts her dreams.

The sound of a key in the door grabs her attention immediately. She was leaning on the kitchen island and stands straight up when the door opens. She leaves the cup of coffee on the counter because she is afraid that she's going to drop it when she sees who's walking into the apartment.

She bites her lip so she doesn't say anything when Jamie walks into the apartment for the first time with her there since the fight a bunch of months ago. It feels like a lifetime ago when he walked out the door.

He freezes when he sees her in the kitchen. Their eyes meet and she has to hold back tears.

Jamie looks so much happier and healthier than the last time she saw him in person. The bags under his eyes have gotten lighter. He is practically glowing.

He was working so hard while he was playing for Anaheim because he felt like he had something to prove. He felt like he needed to prove that he belonged here. Philly wanted him so he probably was able to relax.

"Hi," she finally breathes out when the silence gets to be too much for her. "You look, um ... you look good."

"Thanks," he replies, voice quiet. "Are the boxes still in the bedroom?"

She nods quietly and Jamie makes a quick escape down the hallway. She rests her elbows on the counter and puts her face in his hands to hide any emotions that Jamie could see when he comes back out into the living room.

Her throat closes up and tears prick her eyes. She had no idea that seeing him again would cause her to have this reaction. Seeing Jamie will always probably make her have some kind of reaction.

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

When he comes back into the living room, Jamie is carrying one of the six boxes that are left. That's probably the biggest box so he has to carry it by itself. The other boxes are light so they can be carried two or three at a time.

That means she's running out of time to talk to him before he walks out of her life completely.

She walks back to the bedroom where his remaining boxes sit in the corner. She sits on the bed so she can catch him when he walks back into the room. With a quick wipe of her cheeks to dry them, she settles on the mattress with her legs crosses and waits for Jamie to come back.

There are footsteps in the hallway and Jamie appears in the doorway a second later. He pauses mid-step when he sees her sitting on the bed they used to share.

"Can we talk?" she asks as her entire body shakes with anxiety and nervousness. "Please?"

Jamie walks over to the corner and piles two of the boxes on top of one another. "I don't have time," he tells her as he picks up the pair of boxes. "Trevor is waiting for me outside to take me and my stuff to the airport for my flight to Toronto."

She frowns as he walks out the door with his things, but she quickly throws on a pair of slides and follows him. "Jamie, please," she begs. "I don't want to let you leave without saying what I have to say. I don't want you to get on that flight without talking to me first."

He gets on the elevator and she jumps on with him. He presses the button to go to the first floor and the doors shut. "(Y/N)," he sighs. "I can't do this again. I don't want to do this again."

"I want to fight for us, Jamie," she says anyway as the elevator keeps descending to the first floor. "I'm not letting you just walk away so easily again. It was a mistake the first time letting you walk away. Especially because you didn't come back."

The doors open and Jamie walks out. She follows him out the front door. Trevor's car sits next to the curb, and he leans against it. "There is a reason I didn't come back," he comments as he throws the boxes in the trunk of the car. Then he looks at her. "I was traded, remember? I bet you do because you kept reminding me that I was going to be traded."

His words cause her to freeze as he walks away. She looks at Trevor, who just points in Jamie's direction. "Go," he tells her. "He's just being hard to get."

She runs after him as he approaches the elevator. The doors open and she once again joins him in the small room.

"I should've been a good girlfriend and be there for you to help you cope with the possibility of being traded," she says to Jamie. "I shouldn't have kept telling you to face reality. I didn't understand how you were feeling, but I do now. I wasn't there for you and was making it harder for you. I'm sorry."

The two walk back into the privacy of their apartment because it's still technically Jamie's apartment too. Once the door shuts, Jamie spins and faces her.

"You made it seem like you were excited to move to wherever it was I got traded to," Jamie snaps. "Meanwhile, I was leaving behind the life that I had made for myself over the past four years. I was leaving the best teammates behind, I was leaving my best friends behind. I pushed myself so hard once those rumors started that I hurt myself trying to prove that I belonged here. I hurt myself trying to prove that I had a spot on the Ducks, and they still traded me anyway. There's a reason I didn't want to face that reality and it's because I was leaving everything behind. Then there was you who seemed like you didn't care what you were leaving behind."

"Because I was ready to move across the country to be with you!" she shouts at him. Her voice is strained as she chokes back tears. "I didn't want to leave everything behind, but I was ready to start a life with you wherever you ended up, then you walked out that door and never came back. You ignored every single text and call I made. You never gave me the chance to explain myself, and now here we are."

He walks back into the bedroom to grab the last three boxes. "I didn't want to hear your excuses," he says as she follows him. "I didn't want to listen to how excited you were to start the next chapter of our lives or whatever while I was struggling to walk away from Anaheim. Sorry if I needed a second."

As he stacks the last boxes on top of each other, she says, "I would've given you as much time as you needed, Jamie. All you had to do was talk to me. Instead, you ignored me." She pauses as Jamie lifts up the boxes. "If I could do the last few months over again, I would. If I could be there for you then I would. I'd support you through anything. I did support you. I watched every single Flyers game you played in and I had to resist the urge to call you when you got hurt a few weeks after the trade. I had to ask Trevor how you were even though he was hurt too because I wasn't sure if you'd answer and I was worried you'd hurt your shoulder like you did last year. I cheered for every point you got and I loved you from 2,700 miles away while you were ignoring me."

Tears form and fall down her cheeks as she tells Jamie what been happening with her since he left. She's angry, but she loves him so much that she's willing to be angry at him for a second while they talk for the first time in months.

She's willing to be angry at him for this one moment.

Jamie puts the boxes on the ground and looks at her. "You still loved me and supported me even though I was ignoring you?" he asks like he doesn't believe her. She nods and wipes away her own tears while she looks at Jamie. "I didn't know-"

"You wouldn't have known because you refused to talk to me," she interrupts as she rubs her face. "I'm sure you didn't bother asking Z how I was either because he didn't tell me if you did ask."

"I asked him not to tell you."

"What?"

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I did ask how you were doing, but I told Trevor not to tell you I was asking because I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to you yet," Jamie explains. "He didn't tell me that you still loved me and were supporting everything I did in Philly."

"Still love," she corrects. "Still support. I always will because I thought for years that it was going to be the two of us til the end. When you walked through that door a little bit ago, I was getting ready to fight for us. I didn't think it was actually over between us, but you tell me if it's over or if we can start over."

Jamie stays quiet, and the only reason she doesn't immediately tell him to leave is because she can see that he's genuinely thinking about her words.

I've taken all I could take And I cannot wait We're wasting too much time Being strong, holding on Can't let it bring us down My life with you means everything So I won't give up that easily

His phone buzzes and he takes it out of the pocket of his shorts. He looks back up at her and says, "I have to-"

"Go?" she interrupts again. "Then go, but know that I'm not done fighting for us and our lives together."

"(Y/N)," Jamie sighs. "I have to go tell Trevor that I'm staying." Her eyes widen. "It's not over between us. I don't want it to ever be over between us, so if you'll let me, I'd like to start over. Redo the last few months or so with you."

All of the tension leaves her body and she nearly falls to the floor. She lets out the biggest sigh of relief, and also the loudest sob that echoes off the walls of the bedroom. She covers her face and cries into her hands.

A pair of arms wrap around her shoulders and she smells Jamie's familiar cologne on his body as it engulfs her. "We'll do it right this time," he assures her. "I promise.

I'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? 'Cause it's all misunderstood Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

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MASTERLIST

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[spdrvyn]

second chance headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel breaks up with you out of concern for your safety, he tries to reassure himself that he did the right thing but he can't help how he yearns for your presence, your warmth, you every single day. how does he deal with it? do you two get back together?

THIS FIC CONTAINS: angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. somewhat suggestive content. pathetic miguel (for my enjoyment and yours). spider-person reader. slightly possessive miguel.

NOTES: i have nothing to say. i was possessed while i wrote this. STREAM PROMISE BY LAUFEY IT POWERED ME THROUGH THIS POST FR!!! also this is kinda long lol

× there is one leading factor as to why i think miguel would break up with you. being that he's so scared of getting comfortable, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, and get overly-attached. × he's grateful for you, he always will be but how long would that last before you'd be snatched from his careful grasp? even if your fates aligned, he was scared of even being open. that the moment he let you know of his deepest insecurities, you'd go running. × keeping a distance was just a habit that was hard to let go off, he did show he loved you but not in the ways that you needed or craved. pure physical affection wasn't enough, the tiniest gestures weren't enough, it wasn't enough. he knew that.

× which lead to the demise of your relationship, it was so utterly painful to watch his words sink in and the tears starting to breach from your waterline. he couldn't bring himself to hug you because how could he be so kind after doing something like that? × he couldn't be vulnerable, he had to be strong. keeping his emotions in check even as you said that you understood and if this is what made him happy then you'd go through with it, that you respected his wishes like the kind soul that you were and soon left. leaving him with an air of regret and yearning. × work isn't easier for him either, and that's normally the first thing on his list of suppressing his emotions. how hard he tried to conceal his shame whenever you two just happened to pass by each other in the halls of the headquarters. × you could see it too, let it not be said that you were oblivious. you had picked up on when miguel was trying to tamp down his feelings during the time of your previous relationship, and it was clear he was still trying to do it now. × if you were being completely honest with yourself, you tried doing the same since miguel was so insistent on shutting himself out, you might as well give it a shot. right? well, not really. each and every time you thought about him and no matter how hard you tried, it would spill out through sobs and long rants to your friends (to their misfortune). × you've learned to be more non-chalant about the break up, acknowledging that you couldn't really do anything about it. however, it didn't stop your heart from beating at a hundred miles an hour whenever you were within an arm's length from miguel. being alone with him certainly didn't make it better.

His voice rung in your head like a chant. Meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later. It's like he was haunting you, the sound of your own footsteps not even making it to your ears as you trudged closer and closer to his chambers.

Were you scared? Yes. Absolutely fucking terrified. However, it's not because you feared he was going to scold or yell at you, but because you've haven't been alone with him for a while.

Yes, one-on-one office meetings did happen from time to time but it's been days since your last one with him, and you certainly weren't expecting it to come so soon.

It felt darker than usual when you walked in, the platform that he normally stands on now lowered to it's fullest. You were well familiarized with his lab and it's layout, a lot has changed.

The brewing stations that he was so stern about cleaning now scattered, some stray vials even shattered on the floor. There were papers everywhere, unreadable from the dimness of the room but even from your viewpoint you could see how illegible his handwriting was when he was scribbling down on them.

Before you could observe his workspace any further, he steps down from his platform. Your eyes immediately flickering up, it unsettled you so much. Everything about this was unsettling. His eyes, you knew how to study his expression, a talent you gained from being the only person that Miguel really tolerated, but now? He was completely unreadable, like you didn't recognize him anymore.

Your gaze trails down to his chest, where it rosed and fell a lot faster than it usually did. He seemed erratic almost, you remembered when he'd come home to you in that kind of state and most of the time it would normally end in the bedroom.

Since you don't want to be caught staring at his pecs, you clear your throat and fight to make eye contact with him. "Sorry, what did you need me here for?"

Miguel looks as if he's lost in a trance for a moment, boring his eyes into yours until he snaps out of it and turns his head away - breaking the very uncomfortable exchange of eye contact.

"You got hurt during your last operation." His voice sounded hoarse, more so than usual at least. You really wondered what the hell Miguel was doing before you got in here, you were aware that he took some sort of drug to stabilize his DNA, maybe he hasn't taken his shots yet? You're too scared to ask.

"A lot of people got hurt," You begun to explain, crossing your arms and digging your fingers into your arms as to prevent yourself from stuttering. "I got a gash on my arm, but I went to the infirmary and got it fixed up so it's fine. I'm fine."

There goes that silence. That grating unbearable silence that forces you to hear every pin drop, every whir of a machine, and every distant laugh of yet another obnoxious Spider-person. Everything went quiet which made every other noise so fucking deafening, it irked you.

You wanted him to say something, to do something, to even just breathe a little louder because you knew the moment that he'd make even just a single nose that he'd get your attention right away.

Seems like you prayed a little too hard. He puts a hand on your shoulder and it sends shocks straight to your palpitating heart, he leans in close. Not close enough to have alarms blaring in your head, but he was very close.

"But you got hurt too. That's—" Suddenly, his head drops down and he stares at the floor for a few moments. You get a good view of his messy, dark brown curls before he looks back up again, before letting go of your shoulder. "Nevermind. Get out."

There goes the moment, as per usual. You huff a sigh of relief? Disappointment? You weren't quite sure, processing the emotions you just felt was a job for later, you had more pressing matters to attend to right now.

"Right, I'm sorry." You had no idea what you were apologizing for either, but it felt like you should be sorry.

× little did you know that that wouldn't be the last time you'd say sorry to miguel. you didn't consider yourself to be the most apologetic person, but with most things, miguel seemed to have unlocked that part of you as well.

× sometimes it would be over the smallest, most obscure encounters. like brushing fingers whenever you two reach for the same item in the cafeteria, whenever he drops a pen and you both try to pick it up at the same time.

× it's not like it got any better than that. whenever miguel wanted to meet up with you, this time not about you getting injured during operations (although if you did, it would consume most of the conversation) but even about the most mundane things, the meeting would end with an overwhelming silence that you'd have to break with the same pathetic "i'm sorry".

× miguel didn't know either, he thought he did but lyla has reassured him that it's just the overthinking talking and that he was worrying over it too much. even then, he still felt like it was his fault that you constantly had to apologize to him for reasons unknown. it was so pitiful, he couldn't stand seeing you like that. he'd rather die.

× this bad habit of yours didn't help either of you. every time you apologized to him, every time you looked at him, every time you spoke to him, every time you breathed in his direction, that pit of want in his stomach only continued to grow and that impulsive thought at the back of his head that tells him to just relent and beg for you back continued to grow louder and louder.

× no matter where he went, he'd be reminded of you. you were like a sticker he couldn't peel off, a tattoo that would never fade. he'd find bits and pieces of you in his home, around the city. whether it would be him scrolling past the channels late at night and coming across your favorite show, standing in front of the television in a daze as the memories come back to him before turning it off.

× or your smell would count as well. when he'd be going patrolling through the citys in the day and come across a perfume shop, it's like he has to physically restrain himself from barging inside geared in his suit just because he could smell your scent from the inside. he simply couldn't take it anymore, it's like his senses were going haywire.

× he needed you. he was going to fix this.

Miguel had never looked in the mirror more times in his life than now.

"Come on, Miguel. I'm sure you look fine! See? Look at that cute face," Lyla cooed in mock affection as Miguel scowled at her through the reflection of the mirror. "Not so cute anymore."

He ignored her comments, running his hand through his thick hair in a poor attempt in trying to getit to fall down in a more 'attractive' way (according to Lyla's fashion articles) but it just didn't seem to work. That's the downside of having consistently styled hair, Miguel huffs and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Do I have everything?" He looks back up as Lyla flickers over to his kitchen counter, scanning the items on it through her careful gaze and heart-shaped sunglasses. Once she's done, she gives him a small thumbs-up. "Donuts and flowers are still here like they were fifteen minutes ago, Miguel."

He hated the fact that he kept checking his presents were going to disappear if he looked away for too long or stopped paying attention, he wasn't going to let his gifts for you slip out of his fingers this time. Not on his watch. Not toda—

"These flowers will wilt if you don't hurry up."

"Fine, fine. Stop rushing me."

With a few clicks of his watch, that same blinding portal opened up in front of him as he hesitantly walked into it. He clutched the flowers and donuts in an iron grip, trying to make sure no flowers flew out of the bouquet and all twelve donuts were still contained in the box.

He stood in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, doors lining up on each side. The nerves were starting to creep up on him, very clear from the way that the paper that wrapped the bouquet so nicely was now crumpled. He sighed, dejected.

"You're going to do fine, Miguel." Lyla interjected.

"You don't know that," He begins taking very, very small strides towards your apartment door which made Lyla's virtual eyeballs roll to the back of her head. "We both won't know for sure unless you try, besides I sense that I'll be going offline soon."

"You don't have intuition. You're an artificial intelligence."

"You're going to kiss your soon-to-be in five minutes lover with that mouth?" Miguel followed the routine of angrily swatting Lyla away even as he's about to show up to your door, about to pour his whole heart out to you, though it's inevitable. She'll find a way to be witty about something, he'll get mad and tell her to leave, before coming back to grovel. There's a bit of pattern in that, no?

All the anxiety that Miguel has been trying to push down to the dark crevices of his heart were all coming back to him as he raised a shaking finger to ring your doorbell, countless scenarios rushing through his head. What if this was the wrong door? What if you were sleeping and he rudely interrupted you? What if you weren't home? What if you were dead? Oh, he hated that thought.

The door to your apartment swung open to his surprise, and the fingers he had clasped around the flowers soon unclenched when he caught the sight of you.

You were wearing just a shirt, a really big shirt. Which only really meant that it belonged to him, he recalled letting you borrow his clothes if he ever accidentally tore through them in the 'heat' of the moment. Where you'd promise that you'd return it in a week or so, but it never made it's way back to him, and he has grown more than content with that prospect.

He could catch a whiff of your apartment. It reeked of instant ramen packets, and it seemed like you opened more than one. He could catch a peek at the rest of your space as well, it was dimly lit and the TV is paused. The bowl of ramen sat comfortably on the coffee table in front of the couch, there were also a lot of crumpled up tissues littered across the surface which made him assume you were literally just crying.

His suspicions were confirmed when he finally looked at your face. Eyes a little red, slighly puffy, and droplets of water hanging from your chin like you'd just washed your face. Your normally well-kept hair was a mess, and every detail of you in the moment made Miguel's heart drum loudly in his chest.

"Miguel," At last, you spoke. Voice raspier than he remembered it. "You— why are you here? If this is about work then my watch is in my bedroom, I'm sorry if I didn't answer your calls."

Yes, of course because him standing in your doorway with a wonderful bouquet of flowers and your favorite donuts definitely meant that he was here to talk about business. He shook his head, "No, I'm not here for work. Not at all."

He bestowed the gifts to you, and no matter how confused you are right now, you still gladly took them in your hands. The way that you looked up at him was an apology within itself, but you couldn't even manage to whisper the words out because what were you going to apologize for when he brought you all of this?

Oh, god. He was really going to do this, wasn't he?

"Mi sol," He got down on his knees. He got down on his knees, you wanted to gasp but it's like Miguel sucked the words straight out of your body. "I'm so sorry. I really am."

The hundreds of apologies that you dished out over the span of a few weeks could even compare how to raw Miguel's voice sounded right now. It felt so real, so true, and he's barely even said anything yet. You felt terrible that all you could really do in the moment was stare, eyes widened and expression dumbfounded.

"I broke your heart, I hurt you. You poured your heart out to me, talked about your feelings, put your trust in me, and I broke it. You don't have to believe me when I say this, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, but I was scared, fucking terrified at the thought of you leaving. You were just so perfect, so amazing on the inside and out, and I didn't want to lose that, lose you."

Miguel had no idea what was even coming out of his mouth right now, no rhyme or reason behind his words, but he didn't care. He wanted to turn off his mind for the moment, letting his heart speak for itself like he should have done eons ago.

"But," Shakily, he reached his hand out for yours. You quickly shifted the box of confectionaries to your other hand, letting him hold onto you like you were his lifeline. Like you are his lifeline. "Those are just my reasons, take them as you will. Please trust me when I say that I want to be a better lover, a better person for you. It's all you deserved, and it's all I want to give to you."

He peppers a few small kisses to your knuckles before continuing to speak, "Lo siento, cariño. I know that this is all might sound so— so idiotic, I'm not good with words. I took you for granted and discarded you, and for my ignorance, you can be mad at me for the rest of my life, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing you didn't receive any closure. Even if you don't forgive me, I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry. All the logic, all the facts, I'll put them aside for you. You are all that matters to me now."

The whole world went silent as Miguel squeezed his eyes shut, not even his super-human senses could pick up any background noise. You hadn't pulled your hand back yet so he continued to brush his thumb over your knuckes and veins, but he couldn't tell if it's because you were shocked or you were stunned from utter joy.

He feels his heart drop when he hears you whimper.

His eyes fly open, and he looks back up at you. Shit, you were crying again. You were crying again, and it was his fault. Although who was to say that you weren't already crying before he got here?

The hand he wrapped around yours tightened gently in a soothing gesture, but it only seemed to make you sob harder which increased his guilt. Was his apology that bad?

"You are such a liar," Shit. Maybe he should have dignified that suggestion from Lyla telling him to write this down first. "You can't just— just say all of that shit and then tell me you're bad with words."

Wait, what? Clear confusion was well written on his face from the way that his brows knitted together.

Your hand broke free from his grasp to move up his arm, his shoulder, before smoothing over his hair, tucking back the stray strands that have fallen on his face so that you can lean forward, and kiss his forehead. Even if the kiss was so small, it felt so heavenly.

Your kisses moved down to the bridge of his nose, then finally landing on his lips, the lips that you've only dreamt of kissing and now the past month of desire felt like it was slowly being satiated. Your eyes flutter close as you can feel Miguel stand up, his strong arms move to wrap around your waist, nearly lifting you off of the floor as the kiss deepens.

His hands wandered the expanse of your back, like he was trying to revise every inch of you, but you didn't blame him. Both of you needed this so much and so badly too. Every rub and soft groan spoke a hundred utterances of I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

He barely pulls back once the kiss ends, faces barely inches away from each other. You find yourself entranced in the delightful shade of red that his eyes are, you'd catch yourself bashfully staring at them before, but now? You were more than shameless about it.

"Let me inside," whispered Miguel, voice low and husky, only laced with want and need. You knew exactly what he needed. "Want to make it all up to you, please."

You couldn't do anything about it as you obliged, grabbing Miguel by the collar of his jacket, and tugging him inside your apartment. Not even a few steps in, he grabs the flowers and donuts from your grasp, sets them down on the coffee table, before pushing your body against the couch. You yelped a little, but he silenced it by capturing your lips in yet another searing kiss that you couldn't help but lean into.

All the physical affection that Miguel had given you last time didn't disappoint at all, but this just felt entirely different. His actions were saying just as much as his words, leaning his frame into yours and hungrily pressing you into the cushions.

You thought that he'd at least give you a second to breathe but he stole that from you once more as his lips travelled down, kissing along the outline of your jaw then moving down to your neck. His favorite spot, he remembered every single mark and bruise that he left on you, and he was going to make anew.

The familiar feeling of sharpness as his fangs nibbled at the flesh, you didn't even have to look down to see the marks forming and blooming in a lovely shade of red as he continued to bite.

It's not like you were any better than him though. Needy and pathetic whines that slipped out of your mouth, just a continuous string of please Miguel, need you, missed you so much, I want you so bad. It all only continued to spur him on, he murmured sweet nothings both in Spanish and English against your neck as his advances moved its way down your figure.

His rough, calloused hands had a firm grip on you, daring to slip under the hem of your shirt— no, his shirt. "Can't believe I let go of all of this," He rasped out. "Eres tan bueno conmigo, you're being so good. Letting me get a taste of you," He fed into his impulses, lifting your shirt up to expose most of your torso besides your chest.

Your nails dug into his back, free hand tangling in his locks as he continued to press more wet kisses onto your belly, then to your abdomen. As to tease you, he instead went to your thighs. His claws scraped against the plumpness of it before he took a big bite.

You keened, the hand that you had nuzzled in his hair tightened.

"Miguel, please—"

"I know, I know. Just wait a little longer, hm?"

With every peck, every coo, every single breath that he took, it all spoke the same meaning to you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

request rules here, masterlist here

[hannie-dul-set]

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DRINK BEYOND YOUR LIMITS (OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD?)

p — CHOI SOOBIN x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor, lovestruck! soobin being a little dummy. w — drinking, swearing. 1.2k words.

note — heavily based on the manhwa “daybreaking romance" (soob as dong saebyeok ifykyk 😩). won second place in the poll (wdym we've been dating for 2 months??) so here u go!

the last thing soobin remembers after blacking out last night is the look in your eyes that nearly pulls him back into sobriety.

nearly, because he still wakes up on his living room rug the next morning, a burn on his cheek, without the recall how the fuck he got home, without a hint of what happened in between the blurry moments of now and seeing you outside the bar last night. the icy breeze still feels raw on his skin. the conflict in your eyes as his consciousness slips is still vivid in his memory.

choi soobin has become one with the rug, unable to lift his head up in shame and horror, until he remembers he still has an afternoon class to attend and the possibility of having made a fool out of himself in front of his ongoing, unrequited first love while he was drunk off his rockers isn’t a viable excuse for an absence.

“did you get home safe last night?”

the scribbles in his head become even more tangled up when you greet him in the classroom with a pleasant smile. “i think my head is gonna split open,” you say, taking the seat next to him, and soobin is looking at you with wide, unblinking eyes. “what’s up?”

“why...why are you here…?” is his chosen question, not did i do something stupid last night? nor will you forgive me for blacking out in front of you last night? 

you reply by cocking your head. “am not allowed to sit here?”

“of— of course you are.” shit, you’re too cute, soobin thinks to himself all in the midst of racking his brain as to what the fuck did he do last night, and why the fuck did you decide to sit next to him when prior to last night, you two have only been close enough to exchange greetings in the hallways, return smiles during unexpected meetups at the campus cafe, and text each other when you’re assigned group work.

“so, where do you want to eat?”

“huh?” he blinks at you.

“what?” you look up at him after fixing your things, ready to leave the lecture room. “how about hangover soup? that sounds good, doesn’t it?”

choi soobin believes that there are still remnants of last night’s insobriety in his system because the back of your head looks fuzzy as you tug on his sleeve down the hallway, the voice you’re speaking with sounds far away and before he knows it, you’re having lunch with him. watching a  movie with him. riding the bus with him. taking photos with him. doing assignments with him for the next thirty days with the haunting unsettlement that the key to your sudden friendliness might have been lost along with his memories that night.

“maybe they feel bad for you,” yeonjun pitches after soobin finally confides about his overdue dilemma. “you know, you can get pretty emotional when you’re wasted. maybe you cried in front of them and they think it’s their fault so they’re trying to console you. why don’t you just come clean and admit you can’t remember?”

like a punch to the jaw, a memory flashes through a film reel— a cold, prickly breeze. streetlights illuminating the crack behind the restaurant. and your face blurred by cloudy tears and unmistakable sniffles from his own person. 

“oh my god.”

if being pathetic was a crime, choi soobin would’ve been locked up in jail ages ago.

the thing is, coming clean was soobin’s plan before everything spiraled into daily lunch meet-ups and nightly texts. at some point, he lost the timing to come clean and apologize, but you’re asking him if he’s free this weekend because you got for lotte world, so maybe you don’t find him annoying for pathetically crying his eyes put in front of you, right?

then again, maybe yeonjun was right. maybe you’re only doing all of this to make him feel better. but consolation usually doesn’t last for a month and a half (and his heart shouldn’t be fluttering when he watches you scream in delight, arms tossed in the air as you swing back and forth on the viking ride. soobin knows he’s a piece of shit for not having apologized yet. but you look so pretty smiling at him so often, so dazzling when you laugh at something he says, so breathtaking when you’re doing absolutely nothing that he’s tempted to live in eternal ignorance if it means loving you a little closer).

“soobin.” 

your voice hits like a reality check, two months since his drunken mistake. “i know you’ve been meaning to tell me something. you can just say it.”

and just like that, the dream he’s been living in is bound to dissolve into reality one day. his saliva feels like gasoline when he tries to swallow down the guilt, but it only bursts into flames and swallows him like an inevitable forest fire. “nevermind,” you sigh. “i know what you’re going to say anyway.”

soobin is so used to your daily smiles that his heart wrenches when you reveal somberness for the first time.

“you want to break up, right?”

but when the fire burns out, what remains are ashes of confusion.

“what?”

“it feels like nothing has changed before and after we started dating. you won’t even let me hold your hand! i’m sorry for not meeting your expectations. you don’t have to keep forcing yourself to be with me.”

“h—huh?” soobin blinks. “when— when did we start dating?”

you’re looking at him like he’s insane. “soobin, i confessed to you two months ago.”

then it hits him.

“don’t you remember?”

like sudden rainfall in the middle of summer.

a cold, prickly breeze. streetlights illuminating the crack behind the restaurant. you’re there in front of him, so pretty and lovely and cute and your words fly above his head because, “you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty. why are you so pretty?” and his knees start shaking when your laughter bursts carbonated bubbles in the air, putting his drunken rambles to a halt.

“soobin do you like me? because i like you. i don’t think i can settle with just hello’s and greetings. i just like you a lot,” your words settle in his ears, slowly, surely. “what about you?”

suddenly, his cheeks are wet.

“oh no— i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

“i like you so much i could cry right now.” he already is. he’s crying as much as he likes you. he’s crying out the feelings he’s been collecting for the past year and in the form of plump tears rolling down his blushing face and shaking hands holding onto yours so gently and earnestly because he’s afraid if he holds you too tight, you might disappear into thin air.

but it’s his memories that disappeared. choi soobin wants to tear his face off but even that wouldn’t be enough of a repentance.

“you can punch me if you want.”

he’s so in love with you that he remembers the color of the shirt you wore on his birthday last year, but he forgot the most important moment of all his twenty-two years of existence. the shirt was purple, like his arm after you took on his offer for violent retribution. it’s alright because he deserved it. it’s alright because you kissed right after. 

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DRINK BEYOND YOUR LIMITS (OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD?) © hannie-dul-set.

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 7

Summary: The seventh part to iFall for Harry

Letting the stranger in your phone go is a lot harder than you anticipated.

Surely a drunken phone call will help with that.

Word Count: 2k

What do you call an apology written in dots and dashes? 

Remorse Code.

…

I’m gonna assume you’re laughing. 

Like hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.

And while you attempt to keep from rolling on the floor…I want to say I’m sorry.

Again.

Because I am. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.

I know that was selfish. And sneaky. And I wasn’t trying to be. Not on purpose.

I just…I didn’t see any reason to change or ruin what we had.

And then we met. And I saw you. And everything and nothing made sense all at once.

And I thought I could explain.

I wanted to explain.

But I wasn’t sure how.

I guess I thought if we kept talking…the right answer would find me.

But it didn’t.

And then you left.

And I don’t know what to do.

I really don’t know what to do, Cheese Girl.

I miss you.

And I hope you talk to me soon.

You read every text as it comes in. You read, and you reread, and you try not to worsen the anxious pit deep in your stomach.

You didn’t expect this to be so hard. 

You don’t want this to be so fucking hard.

You met him. You met the stranger in your phone and for the most part, it was civil. 

You weren’t catfished. Hooray.

Not to mention, you met Harry Styles. Something that not everybody can say.

But you know better than to let it go any further than it already has. Because it can’t go any further. Your best option is to cut your losses and move on.

Leave this stranger behind.

Because that’s all he is. That’s all he’ll ever be.

A stranger.

You make peace with this thought and go about your life. You go to work, you go to yoga, you go to a bar with friends. You meet new people, and you try new recipes, and you start a new book.

You start a new chapter. Without him.

You try not to think about him. And for the most part, you don’t. He doesn’t reach out again and you assume he probably won’t ever. 

And you’re okay with that.

And then…you’ll hear his name. A friend will mention an outfit he wore at a recent concert or about rumors he’s working on his next album.

And that anxious coil in your stomach will return.

A part of you is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. To find out that this was all some sort of sick prank. For the moment cameras will be shoved into your face to capture your reaction to the news that you’ve been part of a James Corden skit. Or that he’ll be singing about the pathetic girl that had the nerve to believe him when he can do so much better.

But the thing you’re most afraid of…is the way you miss talking to him. The way you’ll pull up his name on your phone and type out a message…only to delete it before you get the nerve to send it.

The way you wish…you could go back to that diner and do it again.

It haunts you, this thought. This regret. More than it should. It eats away at all the work you’ve put in to leaving him behind. It follows you all day. Into the shower, into work, into the grocery store.

And it leads you directly to a bottle of wine.

You’re halfway through your third glass when you get the idea. When all common sense takes a flying leap out the window. And before your better judgment can kick in…you’ve opened up his contact information.

The ringing is loud. Maybe too loud and you grimace as you pull the phone away from your ear. You might be a little too drunk for this.

And then…the ringing stops.

And it all goes quiet.

Until—

“Hello?”

His voice is exactly like you remember. British. And deep. And just a bit raspy.

Perhaps if it were any other moment, you’d be tempted to feel nervous or flushed, but right now…you simply straighten up.

“Hello,” you repeat in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “It’s me. Cheese Girl.”

You think you hear him laugh. “Yeah, I know,” he says before pausing. “…hi.”

“Hi,” you echo before frowning and clearing your throat. “I just wanted to call and say…fuck you.”

A beat before he sighs. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” You begin to pace around your apartment, hoping that the movement will help the words flow a bit faster. “Yeah, because you…you are a complete and total asshole. Did you know that?”

“…I did.”

“Good.” You nod. “And do you know why you’re a complete and total asshole?”

Another brief pause. “Because I lied to you.”

“Eh. Wrong.” You come to a stop. “Because you made me like you.”

Silence.

You carry on. “You made me like you…and then you took it away,” you tell him. “You made me like a complete and total stranger that I’d never met. That I knew nothing about. Just from some puns and your sexy-ass voice. You made me like you. Like…really like you. And then you just…you took it away.”

More silence before he finally murmurs, “Are you drunk?”

Your frown deepens. “No…yes. Maybe—look, that’s not the point. Everything I said is still true.”

He sighs. And it’s heavy. “I…shit, look I…I didn’t take it away. Okay, in fact the last thing I wanted was to end this, but you were the one who said we couldn’t continue.”

“Because we can’t,” you remind him. “Hello. You’re you. You’re so famous, you can’t even walk through the street without people flocking to you.”

“So?”

“So…there’s no room for me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know.”

“How?”

“How?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“Because I just do,” you huff. “There’s only room for models, and famous people, and tours, and all the fucking money you’re probably making. But there’s no room for me.”

“I’d make room.”

The confident remark makes your head spin, and you blink down at the floor.

The call goes quiet for a good minute or two. You wonder if he’s still there, but something tells you…he is.

“You can’t…say stuff like that,” you finally whisper.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not fair. And it’s not true. You can’t possibly make a promise like that.”

“Says who?”

“Says…everyone.” You slump down onto the armrest of your sofa and stare at your lap. “And even if you could…you shouldn’t. You don’t even know me.”

“I want to.”

“You don’t,” you correct. “You don’t want to know me. I’m not…I’m just me. I’m not exactly worth getting to know.”

You hear him scoff. “Well…that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Your eyes narrow. “It’s true. I can’t give you what they can.”

“They who?”

“You know. The other people in your life.”

“What people?”

“The…people. The models and the mommy’s you’re so obsessed with.”

He snorts again. “Okay, well, that doesn’t even close to cover my type.”

“Oh, no? Tell that to literally every ex you’ve ever had.”

“Those weren’t all of my ex’s.”

“Please. Like you managed to date somebody that the press didn’t know about.”

“I have. Many times, actually.”

“Name one.”

“Well, that kind of defeats the whole purpose of dating them privately, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. But I’m not the press. And I’m not gonna tell.”

“Yeah? How do I know that?”

“Have I leaked anything yet?”

The call goes quiet again.

“No,” he admits after a minute. “And honestly...I was kind of disappointed when you didn’t.”

Your brows furrow. “What? Why?”

“Because it meant that you didn’t want anything from me,” he says softly. “It would have made sense if you’d just used this situation to…make some money or gain some publicity. It probably would have even been easier on me if that’s how it ended.”

You feel your heart sink.

“But…your silence meant that you didn’t care about that,” he continues. “It meant that I’d really hurt you. That this had been…real. That you’d rather cut me off altogether then make some sort of name for yourself.”

You swallow the odd lump in your throat as you slide down onto the couch cushions. “I never wanted to make money off of you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, somewhat sadly. “It just…would have been easier if you had.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you will yourself to remain calm. “Harry?”

“…yeah?”

You suck in a quiet breath.

“I miss you.”

You hear him sigh before there’s a bit of static.

He doesn’t answer right away, and you wish more than anything that you knew what he was thinking.

“I miss you, too,” he finally says, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so dejected. “I really fucking miss you, and I’m so sorry that I ruined us.”

“You didn’t,” you whisper, in a voice so small, you’ll be surprised if he hears you. “You were always who you said you were. I know that. But…you and I don’t exist in the same universe. And I don’t think we ever can.”

“Why?” His question is both hopeful and forlorn. “Why not? I have tons of friendships and relationships the world never sees. This wouldn’t have to be any different—we wouldn’t have to be any different. We could still be us.”

Suddenly, your throat burns from the tears you know are coming. “Harry…”

“What? No, stop. We just…come on. We’ve…we’ve met one time. Okay, this is only the start. We still have so much to learn—”

“Harry—”

“No. No, stop…stop doing that. Stop deciding we can’t have a friendship. You haven’t even tried—”

“I can’t try. I can’t…I can’t do this again—”

“Do what? We haven’t even done anything—”

“I can’t lose you again.”

You hate how quiet he gets.

“It was really fucking hard to leave you,” you admit, and there’s a slight rasp to your voice as you fight back tears. “It was so hard to realize that everything I wanted for us was just…gone. That you were gone. That this…weirdly wonderful period of my life was just…over.”

He doesn’t speak yet and you know it’s because he’s waiting for you to finish.

“And if I…if I let myself do this again…and I lose you again…I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“Then you won’t lose me,” he says, but your head shakes.

“You can’t promise that.”

A beat.

“I know,” he sighs before the sigh turns into a groan. “Fuck. I know, I…”

You wait, heart pounding.

You don’t know what you want him to say. You don’t know what he can say.

Maybe you just…wanted to hear his voice.

“Is this why you called me, then?” he asks. “Just to tell me you can’t talk to me?”

Yes. No. 

I don’t know.

“I called because…letting you go isn’t easy for me,” you say. “Even though it should be. Even though I still don’t know you. Because…I feel like I do. I feel like I know you and I feel like when you’re gone…there’s something…missing. And it hurts. And I hate it.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I feel it, too.”

You both fall silent.

The sound of his soft breaths is comforting.

It’s a sound you imagine you’ll remember the rest of your life.

“Let’s make a deal,” you say, stomach already churning at the thought. “We’re good at those.”

He offers a gentle chuckle. “Okay.”

“We stay on the phone for as long as we want tonight,” you explain. “But once we hang up…it’s over. For good. No more texts. No more late-night drunken calls. No regrets. We delete, we block…and we move on.”

He thinks about this. “Is that really what you want?”

“No.” Your eyes squeeze shut. “But it’s the only way I’ll be able to let you go.”

You hate that you can feel his disappointment.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Okay. Then I’m right here. Until you’re ready.”

You clutch the phone to your ear as a single tear rolls down your cheek.

So begins the end.

“Okay.”

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

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