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ohtobeleah · 9 months

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California Fornication //

Three — ‘Start Pretending’

Summary: Bob Floyd finds you and Hangman in a compromising position. There’s a lot more than meets the eye as to why Rooster chose his wife over you. He just hasn’t told you.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Love Triangle x2. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin xF!reader. Question ing Morality. Angst. Abusive of power in a relationship. Domestic abuse. SMUT!

Word Count: 2.9k

Author Note: First upload after my wedding. Had this idea swimming around in my brain all week.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Siren!”

It was all too much for your brain to comprehend. The man you’d been dating, the man you had begun to see a future with, the man who made you forget about all the boys who came before, was married. Bradley Bradshaw was a married man.

“Y/n—“ Bradley called after you as you made your way back to your car. Of all the days you could have parked closer, today was the day you decided to park all the way in the back row of the lot. “Would you just stop for five seconds so I can explain!”

You couldn’t begin to explain the way you felt. Betrayed, heartbroken, angry, used. Nothing really did the trick when trying to find the right adjective that perfectly described the sick bottomless pit your stomach had become as you scurried back to your car with Rooster hot on your tail. “Y/n! Please just let me explain!” Bradley begged as he caught up to you. His boots were heavy on the ground as he gripped at your wrist—turning you back to face him as he pleaded with you. “Please, just listen.”

“You know when would have been a perfect time to explain your situation, Rooster?” You hissed as you ripped your wrist from his grasp. “At the bar! The night we met!” It was damn near impossible to believe that the fact Bradley was married had never been discussed or even be divulged to you. By anyone. “Right now? I don’t wanna know, because I’m about three seconds away from getting in my car and running you down!” It’s the anger in your voice that frightens Rooster the most before he’s standing there, watching you walk away.

“We’re getting a divorce!” He shouts after you, jogging to catch up to you as you keep putting one foot in front of the other. “I don’t know what she’s doing here baby, you have to believe me.” It sounds as sincere as he can make it sound. “I never wanted you to find out like this, please—“ You pause in your stride, trying your best to keep the tears that had formed in your lower lash line from streaming down your cheeks. It’s to no avail though—they fall freely before the man who’d stolen your heart. “I swear to you, she’s nothing to me anymore.” Bradley’s voice softens as he steps a little closer all the while you step back. Keeping your distance. “I was going to tell you about it all.” He admitted through tears of his own. “About her. But it still hurts to think about it and when I’m with you Siren?” Bradley paused to soak in the way your eyes mimicked his own heartbreak. “It doesn't hurt.”

“I need to get home—“ You needed time to process the earth shattering news. “Please just let me go home, Rooster, before I have an aneurysm.”

“It doesn't hurt when I’m with you!” Bradley needed you to hear him out, so he kept talking as you walked away. He watched you dump your duffel into the backseat of your car as he spoke. “I mean it Siren, I don’t love her, I’m with you now and if I’m being perfectly honest here I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Bradley blocked you from opening your driver's side door. He said not a single word as he pulled you into him for a desperate kiss. Full of passion and love. Your lips melted with his as you tried to will yourself to be strong. But the tears kept falling.

“I need you to hear me out about this alright?” He whispered as he let your forehead rest against yours. “I promise I had every intention of telling you the truth. I told everyone not to so that I could tell you myself—I just didn’t know how and before I knew it we were official and the longer I waited the more scared I got about losing you.”

“You really mean it when you say you were getting a divorce?” You asked through wet lashes. Not sure of what to believe.

“I do.” Bradley confirmed before he was once again pulling you in for a kiss so passion filled it took the breath right out of your lungs. “I don’t settle for women who sleep with my best friend.”

“She cheated on you?” Your heart broke for the man who was currently blocking your driver's door as his arms draped over your shoulders.

“Walked in on them in the middle of it too.” You could see the memory playing out across Roosters eyes before he shook the memory from his mind. “I can’t go back to her, not when I’ve got you. So please, stay, hear me out Siren.” You let Bradley’s plea linger in the atmosphere around you before you reached up to kiss him once more for good measure.

“If you really want me to listen and you really want to lay all this out on the table—I’ll be at the Hard Deck tonight for two for one night at seven o’clock .” You explained. “I’ll book a table on the dining side, and I’ll listen.”

“I’ll be there.” Bradley smiled against your neck as he drew you in for a hug. “I’ll tell Katie to leave, I’ll tell her it’s over, completely, and I’ll be there.” Bradley Bradshaw had said that his marriage was over with enough conviction in his voice that he actually had you believing it. But as it turned out? You ended up sitting alone in a booth at the Hard Deck for two hours. And when Bradley did eventually show? He came hand in hand with his wife.

“She looks so heartbroken.” Phoenix whispered to Bob as they watched you stand from the now empty booth they’d seen you sitting alone at for the past two hours. They’d tried their best to sit with you, but you insisted you were fine.

You’d seen Bradley walk in, and within a millisecond your heart shattered into a million pieces. It was all the explanation you needed, seeing Rooster with his wife. Things were over between you. He’d chosen her. Why? Why her?

“We should—“

“We should really stay out of whatever mess this is Nix.” Bob sighed as he watched you push past the crowd and exit from the same door Rooster and his estranged wife had just come through. “Something tells me this is gonna get messy and I can’t afford to be picking and choosing sides when I entrust my life to you guys for work.”

“He’s an idiot—“ Phoenix shook her head as she took a sip of her beer, eyeing off the woman who’d destroyed her own marriage and a friendship that she once thought was unbreakable. “For going back to her.”

“Love makes you do crazy things—“ Bob replied as he caught Rooster looking around the Hard Deck while Katie spoke with Fanboy. He was looking for you. “Crazy, stupid things.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Oh my god—!” Jake Seresin couldn’t have been buried any deeper inside you if he tried. “Fucking hell you’re so tight.” He moaned into the juncture of your neck as he bucked his hips into you. The two of you had switched positions—you were now the one sitting on the bathroom countertop with your legs wrapped around Jake's waist. “Why’d Bradshaw let you go huh? Tightest little pussy I’ve ever been up in.” It felt so wrong but oh so right at the same time—like you were made for him and only him.

“Did you say that to Rooster's wife too?” You teased as Jake sucked perfect pressure against your pulse point. The two of you could be compromised by anyone at any moment. The unisex bathroom the pair of you were in was one of two.

“Oh you’ve got a mean streak don’t you?” Jake smirked as his hand moved from your hip to your throat. Applying a little pressure. “And no, his dirty little mistress is a better fuck.” It sent shivers down your exposed spine. “Wanna get outta here? Come back to mine?”

“Not until you finish what you started here first.” You could feel it coming, swirling around your core, the build up of pressure so intense it was damn near electric. “I’m so close—“

“Oh don’t you worry a pretty little hair on that head of yours, Siren.” Jake snarled as he picked up and pace and pulled your hair back just enough to expose your neck for him to mark up. “I’m gonna get you exactly where you wanna go.” He was so cocky, so sure of himself it was almost infuriating. “Touch yourself for me.” But yet here you were, doing exactly as you were told as Jake fucked deep into you with everything he had. Throbbing inside your velvet walls. “That’s it Siren, look at you.” He teased as you moaned and whimpered for more. “Tell me what you want—“

“I wanna cum!” You cried as Jake chuckled with a devilish smirk that made your core ignite with lust and need. “Please—“

“I ain’t stopping you darlin.” Jake kissed your lips harshly to stop the drool that was nearly dripping out of you. “You wanna cum all over my dick then go ahead and do it, I’m sure Rooster won’t mind.” Oh but he would mind, that you both knew. Which is what made this all the more exhilarating. “Or maybe he’ll try to kill me.”

“Oh fuck!!” You were so close, your high was right there. “Jake! Fuck yes I’m gonna cum—“ He was right behind you, fucking into your until he was nearly seeing stars. “Don’t stop!”

“Ohhh god I’m right with you—“ Through a mix of moans and grunts and a need to get each other off, neither you nor Jake heard the knob of the bathroom door creek open to reveal an unsuspecting Robert Floyd. He stood there dumbfounded and shocked to no end, watching as your eyes rolled into the back of your head as it hit the mirror behind you. Your chest was perky and exposed. Jake's face was buried in your chest and he hooked his arms around the small of your waist and spilled his load inside you. Stilling with a grunt of pure ecstasy as he came with you. “Fuck.”

“Are you kidding me?” Bob thought he was speechless, but as it turned out he had a thing or two to say. Jake turned his head in the direction of where Bob's voice had come from as he entered the bathroom and locked the door behind himself. “Are you certifiably insane!?”

“What can I say Floyd.” Jake smirked as he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his jeans. You hopped down on the counter, leaking with Jake's load, searching for your clothes behind him. Completely mortified that Bob had seen you so exposed. “Bradshaw has an exquisite taste in women.”

“I really did feel bad for you, you know.” Bob did his best to ignore Jake's comment as he turned his attention to where you were getting dressed. “We all did, because we should have told you.” He tried to hold his tongue as he bit the inside of his cheeks. But it was coming out regardless. Bob needed to say it. “But you know what Jake did and yet here you are, so don’t come crawling to anybody for sympathy when Rooster finds out about this.”

“Last time I checked Bob—“ Jake puffed his chest a little as he took a step closer to where Bob stood. “Roosters happily married, so Siren here is free to fuck whoever she damn pleases.” Jake reminded the usually meek WSO. “But if you wanna be the one to tell Bradley about this then by all means, have at it.” Jake paused as the two men came face to face, toe to toe. “But make sure you’re ready to duck the second you taddle, he puts his weight behind those punches, and I don’t think those weak ass glasses would withstand a shot like that.”

“Jake—“ You broke the tension with a gentle hand to the small of Jake's waist. “Let’s just get out of here yeah?” You reminded him softly as Bob held his stare. Disappointed beyond belief that you would go anywhere near Jake Seresin. “Let’s just go.”

“Don’t let Penny hear you disrespect a lady like that.” Jake smirked to himself as he fixed his shirt. “She might just make you pay for a round.” Jake reached for your hand as he opened the Bathroom door. “Good to see you again Bob.” It wasn’t long after Jake had the final word that he was pulling you out of the bathroom, past the rest of the Daggers who didn’t know what to think seeing the two of you rush out of the Hard Deck together and out into the carpark.

“You didn’t have to stand up for me like that, you know.” You broke to silence as Jake opened up the passenger side door of his Ford F150, offering you a hand up that you so graciously accepted. “I can look after myself.”

“It’s nothing—“ Jake insisted as he leaned in to kiss you, soaking up the fact all eyes were on the pair of you through the window. From Phoenix to Coyote who all knew this was going to end as badly as it did the last time. “Us dirty mistresses gotta stick together.”

You hardly knew this man yet he was so endearing. The thought of getting to know Jake made you crave his attention all that much more. But you knew what this was—a fling, a rebound, a wrong turn if you will. Because Jake loved Katie and you were still pretty positive that you loved Bradley.

“To the dirty mistress' clubhouse.” You smiled as Jake beamed at you. “Hope you have a nice bedroom.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“No no no no I don’t think you understand what I’m saying to you Kate.” Bradley hissed as he paced back and forth in his living room. His handles fell to his hips in frustration and he burnt track marks into his carpet. “It’s over, we’re done, I don’t love you enough to want to put the work in!” It was all falling on deaf ears, Bradley’s pleas, his feelings. “I can’t be with someone who broke my heart the way you did.” All Bradley had ever wanted was what his parents had.

“You want to file for divorce Rooster, that’s fine.” Katie Beadshaw had another name before she met Rooster. Her maiden name was Katherine Ferguson. To those in uniform ‘Ferguson’ carried a title like no other and right now, it was Katie’s only okay to keep her husband in a marriage she ruined. “But just take a look at these first.” Katie pulled a handful of papers from her purse. They held a weight like no other. A power Bradley couldn’t fight.

“What are these?” Rooster snatched the slightly crumpled papers from his wife’s hand. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw what they were. “You’re kidding right? You can’t be serious! This is insane!!”

“Signed by daddy dearest himself.” Katie smirked as she stepped closer to Bradley, just so she could walk her fingers up his heaving chest. “I’m sure Siren would be thrilled to be presented with dishonorable discharge papers signed by the chief of Navy himself.” Bradley never thought the woman he married could be so cold, so cruel, so dangerous. “But hey, go ahead and divorce me, because I’d love to watch her world burn down to the ground and take you for every cent you’re worth.” Katie snickered all the while Bradley tore the papers up. “S’okay, they weren’t the real ones honey.”

“You vicious little bitch.” Bradley spat as he stepped away and ran his hand frustratedly through his sandy locks. “What do you want from me! You slept with my best friend! You broke my fucking heart Kate and now you’re blackmailing the me!? Threatening the girl who actually gives enough of a shit about me? For what huh?” Rooster felt like he couldn’t breathe, he was meant ro be with you at the Hard Deck, explaining everything—how exactly was he supposed to explain this.

“I want you back.” Katie cooed and all Bradley did was scoff. “You aren’t going to tell her about any of this either.” He followed through. “Because if you do I’ll make sure her career ends before she even knows what it’s like to be loved by you.”

“I DON'T LOVE YOU!” Bradley shouted, he couldn’t have been more clear if he tried to be before Katie’s open palm made a stinging connection against his cheek. He stood there in shock, never once had Bradley ever hit a woman but fuck this would definitely be the closest he’d gotten.

“Well you better start pretending!” Katie hissed. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” Within a second of her fit of rage and need for utter control, Katie was smiling, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to the same cheek she’d just slapped.

“Dinner at the Hard Deck baby, my treat.” Not sure what to do, Bradley nodded silently as he swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. Realising that he’d just found himself in a webb his wife had spun to keep him, and realising soon after that he’d just lost the best thing that has ever happened to him.

You.

Because there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d ever forgive him, or believe him now.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

#california fornication #bradley bradshaw #Jake Seresin #maverick top gun #top gun fanfic #top gun x reader #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #Bradley bradshaw x f!reader #jake seresin smut #bradley bradshaw angst

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no-luscinia-no-amore · 5 months

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ok time for mad gomens headcanons meta brain dump because I just watched episode 6 in its entirety for the second time since July (I was saving it for when I needed Big Feels I guess?)

And look, there's some fun parallel stuff going on: Crowley bopping around with angels while Aziraphale is dealing with demons, Crowley being the one to say the feelings words (mmph, kinda) when Aziraphale has been groping him all season, Aziraphale being the one who leaves after what it is a gross understatement to call a row. But these flippy floppies all keep leading me to not be as sad this watchthrough, partly because I've been soaking in metas on here for nearly 4 months! So here's what I got.

+ No nightingales! The nightingale singing doesn't just mean that they love each other. It represents when they are safe, after 1941 (headcanon!) and after the nopocalypse. Crowley is pointing out danger, that Heaven is listening. The nightingale sings for them when they've successfully dodged celestial and infernal meddling which puts their relationship at risk, with each other and with Earth, and the silence is pointed out because Crowley needs Aziraphale to really really understand that this is possibly irrecoverable danger, not that his heart is being broken.

+ By the time Aziraphale is saying dickish things like "you're the bad guys" and "second in command" the tone has shifted from Crowley being scared, irritated and shocked to something much weirder and harder to read

It's not just hurt, and he's not as hurt as he should be, and it's not because he's about to, mmmf, propose. He's processing. Aziraphale's begging him to understand something and is so obviously panicked. We all noticed his hands and his posture, you think Crowley who's been staring at him for 4523 years* just missed that this isn't Aziraphale being a featherbrain traumaball? Nothing lasts forever, and this precious peaceful fragile existence has, in fact, shattered. Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever you were right.

By the time Aziraphale says "I need you" with such raw fear and hunger, he's not yet sure Crowley was 1. picking up what he's putting down and 2. he's begging for help, begging for some sign or certainty that Crowley isn't saying "hey, rude, fuck you, I'm gonna storm out because this is a really unusual hurtful fight but I'll swing by in a couple days with some eclairs". He gets that certainty moments later in the form of...

+ BIG DAMN KISS

which says "I need you too" and "I'm scared this danger is too much and I'll never get to do this" and "oh fuck Angel be safe please" and "GODDAMNIT GODDAMNIT how do these bastards always wiggle in on EVERYTHING" and "I WAS RIGHT about being nervous"

and I absolutely do not believe that the alveolar sound after "I..." was just Michael Sheen failing to form a fricative**. Aziraphale received the message of "this is dangerous, this is public, and I don't care, I love you enough to kiss you goodbye (?) in front of God (and Muriel!) you bloody stupid brave Angel" and almost responds. But now they're both in the mode of communication like spies again, after 4 years of starting to communicate like...humans. Lovers? Now it's "you're the bad guys" (so the Metayuck won't let me stay here with you) or "In Heaven!!" (because this bookshop is compromised and now nowhere in Earth is safe) so not only would it absolutely not help*** if Aziraphale broke down and was like "DO IT AGAIN I LOVE YOU" it would break whatever weird undercurrent is going on in their communication. So he says the Heaven approved thing that's always in his vocal queue when he's feeling a bit emotional, and Crowley's "Don't Bother" just scans at this point like exhaustion, yes, but not grief. It's "well fuck, let's get on with the rest of this goddamn circus then."

+ I agree that Crowley looks disassociated and absolutely broken and exhausted by the time he puts his glasses on before kissin' time. He hadn't figured it all out yet and thought it was this stupid fucking argument again only way worse and Aziraphale is in stupid danger and their separation will probably be hundreds of years long****. He rushed back because it all completely clicked.

+ and then he waits, knowing Aziraphale is going bonkers, watching the Metafuck come back in, seeing Aziraphale see him through the window, crossing the street, at the elevator. He's not waiting to see if he changes his mind, he's watching his husband march away to war but can't even wave his handkerchief*****

+ and the Bentley, who let Aziraphale turn her yellow and was generally receptive to his desires, lets him play the song through her anyway, Aziraphale saying "This time Crowley, I have the plan. It'll be ok, we can be safe again. I love you."

*since Job

**try to accidentally replace all those Fs with Ls. You are at an advantage since you weren't just kissed by David Tennant, but Michael is at other advantages which I'll cede to him.

***help them get out of the Situation. It would definitely help them make out.

****or, he was with all of us emotionally and it felt for a second like it could be eeeeternityyyyy

***** Aziraphale is the handkerchief waver in the relationship anyway

#good omens meta #gos2 #the kiss #crowley loves aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #the bentley ships #i'm actually a little annoyed bc got an eye thing going on so i was trying to cry but wrote this instead oops

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jarviscockerssecrethusband · 20 days

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Steve started going to the gym the day after Eddie dumped him.

Technically, the two events were unrelated. Eddie avoided the gym like the plague so it wasn’t like Steve was going out of his way to meet him and they had a 30% membership discount the month of April, so really he was just taking advantage of a good deal.

Honestly, Steve worked out when he was stressed and he really needed that adrenaline hit to stop himself from crawling into the fridge and never coming out again.

He’d gotten up at 6AM, made sure that he looked semi presentable to be out in public and was just settling onto the running machine when the sound of Metallica started blasting from the Pilates room just opposite the regular gym.

After Steve recovered from his almost panic attack thinking that Eddie was actually getting fit, and the confusion at the instructor using fucking Metallica for 6AM Pilates, Steve decided in a bored, sad, slightly horny way, to check out the class.

Well, the instructor definitely wasn’t Eddie.

Eddie didn’t have those muscles.

Eddie didn’t have bleach blonde hair.

Eddie didn’t have a fucking tongue piercing.

Steve quickly decided he was in way over his head and frantically started to back away from the door but it was too late. The guy had already seen him and was gesturing him over.

Fucking shit.

The instructor was called Billy. Which was fun. He’d just moved to Hawkins from Los Angeles (why???????) and he was always up for new students so why didn’t Steve give it a go, he promised the Metallica was just a joke since it never failed to wake everyone up.

Steve was not a Pilates guy. That was all he learned from the hour long session. Well, that and when Billy’s tongue flicked out and did a little corkscrew, he looked like he’d be really good at eating- no Steve. Bad thoughts. No rebound.

Billy clapped a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder on the way out and Steve swore he started developing a semi.

This was not going to work.

He did what he always did when considering bad horny decisions and called Carol. The conversation was short and to the point.

“Babe didn’t Munson dump you literally like yesterday?”

She was popping her gum across the line. It was infuriating. Steve took a deep breath before responding.

“Well yeah but-“

Carol cut him off. She had a habit of doing that.

“Yeah but nothing babe.” Her voice trailed out of his phone like cigarette smoke, dancing across his room. “Either you let me key his dumbass weed van or you give up any dreams you’ve ever had about bouncing on blondie muscleface’s dick. Kay babe?”

Then she hung up.

Steve decided to go to Pilates class every day for the following two weeks. It kind of grew on him. Heather, the assistant instructor was bitchy and fun in a way he liked and her long acrylics reminded him of Carol. He made a mental note to himself to introduce her to Robin.

Things on the Billy side of things had not improved however. They’d gotten significantly worse. He was getting boners in public like a teenager, couldn’t speak in full sentences and his heart started doing that gooey mushy thing, especially when Billy told him he’d done a good job.

It’s a rebound not a crush had become his new mantra. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly true.

It was definitely a crush. A big one. Even bigger than the ones he’d had on Jonathan or Nancy or Eddie. And it was a problem.

He didn’t do a Clueless and start wearing revealing athletics wear or anything but he did start flirting just a little. To test out if what he thought had been completely made up in his brain or if something was actually happening.

Billy consistently responded with innuendos so intense, they would make Tommy ask him to cool it.

Ok. So Billy seemed to like him back. All Steve needed to do was ask him to dinner or something. No biggie.

He walked into next Mondays class with a mission which was immediately shattered by Billy wearing a signed Corroded Coffin t shirt. And Corroded Coffin was still small as shit, if Billy had it signed, he was friends with Eddie no doubt.

Running out of the class may not have been the most dignified option but it was the only one his dumbass brain could think of at the time.

He ran all the way back to his apartment onto his bed then cried. After half an hour he decided to check his phone only to be faced with a text from a number Steve must have just thought he’d blocked.

Eddie 💖🖤☺️

Can we talk?

Steve messaged back telling him to go away but five seconds later relented and said sure.

The phone started ringing immediately.

“Hey Steve. Why’d you run out of Billy’s Pilates class?”

Steve wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both. He decided to keep his tone on the cooler side of polite.

“Did he tell you about that?”

There was a long silence for about five minutes before Eddie answered.

“Look Steve……….I know I wasn’t a gentleman when I dumped you. I shouldn’t have just run from the restaurant. That was a dick move. But I really do like Jason and I know for a fact Billy likes you. And you deserve each other. Really.”

Steve sniffled but didn’t answer

“Friends again?” Eddie’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Friends.”

Billy looked slightly frantic the next Pilates class. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a hat with a food stain on it somehow. His face visibly relaxed when he saw Steve.

Billy wasn’t a rebound. He was kind and friendly and opened the door to people who were struggling to get out. His hair was a stupid 80s mullet in 2024, his tattoos were atrocious and Steve thought it might be too soon to say it but he was pretty sure he was in love with him.

Dinner was a good start though, Steve thought as Billy laced their fingers together after the class. Dinner was good.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet

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soft-mafia · 7 months

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The Other Woman

warnings: angst, fem reader, not proofread

a/n: I remember getting a request about something similar to this, but it included smut— my brain went a different direction when writing this.

Y/n leaned her head over the railing of the ship, the sounds of the waves crashing against the side, and the quiet noises of the night were the only things comforting her. She gripped the railing, squeezing her eyes shut as she let out a shaky break. Tears filled her waterline.

She recounted the rollercoaster of emotions she had felt today. Fearing that her boyfriend had died, his only remains being his body parts without feet, hands and a head; sobbing all alone while Cabaji and Mohji were already fighting over who would replace him.

When Buggy finally came back alive— he brought somebody with him. Whatever her name was, Alveera? Y/n didn’t care about what her name was. But she was everything Y/n wished she was. Taller, prettier, confident, thinner, strong, she was even a well established pirate. Y/n let out a choked cry, a tear slipping down her cheek.

What was he doing with her? Who was she? Y/n feared the worst, so avoided speaking to Buggy at all costs. When he ran over to hug her once he got all of his parts back, she didn’t return the embrace, she held in her tears and avoided looking at him, she just rushed back onto the ship and hid in the crows nest.

“Y/n!!!!” Buggy shouted gleefully, his heart full as he ran over to his girlfriend, wrapping his strong arms around her in a firm embrace, “Oh I missed you the most!! I missed the smell of your hair!!” He took a big whiff of the top of Y/n’s head, he then pulled back a bit to look down at her, hands holding her shoulders, “Did you see my moves back there? I did that all for you, baby!” Buggy grinned, feeling proud of himself as he remembered the way he effortlessly defeated that cannibal tribe trying to eat his crew..

Buggy’s eyes widened slightly when Y/n didn’t say a word. She pulled away and hurried off back onto the Big Top.

She didn’t even.. look at him. Not even a kiss on the cheek.

Y/n’s sudden cold shoulder left Buggy confused.. why was she so moody all of a sudden? He imagined she’d be the most ecstatic that he survived.

Right now, everybody was celebrating on the lower deck, happy that their beloved Captain was alive. However, Y/n felt like she was loosing her boyfriend as soon as she got him back, she much rather preferred the pain of Buggy dying over the pain of being replaced by somebody taller, older and more beautiful.

She wanted off of the boat, and out of Buggy’s life forever.

Y/n lifted her head when she suddenly heard footsteps from behind her. Buggy was there, he had been wondering why Y/n was ignoring him, why she wasn’t on her proper place on his lap while they were partying downstairs. “Hey.. What’s got you so down in the dumps? C’mon and join us! I can get Cabaji to make you one of those fruity drinks that you like!”

“I wanna go back to [hometown].” Y/n said quickly. Her words made Buggy raise his brows.

“Why? Do you need something?” He grunted as he stepped closer, Y/n turned her head away and looked back over the railing. Buggy was so cute, it felt like knives were being stabbed through her heart.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.” Y/n choked out, “I wanna go home, I don’t wanna be with you anymore.” Tears rolled down Y/n’s cheeks as she spoke in a rushed tone, feeling her heart shatter.

Buggy’s eyes widened, “Huh- HUH?!” He yelled, feeling shocked, but at the same time he felt anger rise up inside of him; anger fueled by hurt, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

“DON’T YELL AT ME, BUGGY!!” Y/n shouted back at Buggy, looking at him with teary eyes, tears rolling down her face. Buggy drew back, eyes wide as he looked at Y/n, “A-Ah-..” he tried to find what words to say after seeing her tears. He walked closer to her, “What’s wrong..?”

Y/n turned her head away, tears rolling down her cheeks, “I don’t wanna be with you anymore, Buggy.” She repeated.

“Was it something I said?! Is it because of my breath?!”

“No, Buggy.” Y/n choked, trembling. Buggy walked over to Y/n and tried to put his arm around her, she flinched and moved away immediately, she felt like she would die if Buggy touched her. Y/n hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut tightly to prevent more tears from slipping. Buggy struggled to find the right words to say, “Y/n- I can’t-… I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong..!” Buggy let out a forced, strained chuckle under his breath, feeling his heart wrench inside of him, “Please, talk to me baby.” Buggy reached out to try and put a hand on Y/n’s waist, to which she moved away again.

Y/n didn’t want Buggy to touch her.. she didn’t want him to touch her knowing that he was probably going to be touching that other woman the same way he always touched her.. the simple thought of that made Y/n choke into a sob.

“Just take me home, Buggy.” Y/n breathed out through her sobs.

“WHY?!” Buggy growled, his voice cracking subtly, “Are you saying you want to break up with me?! What did I do?! Why won’t you let me touch you?! Y/n, please-!!”

“Why did you bring that woman here?! Who is she?! Why was she with you?!” Y/n turned to face Buggy completely, mascara running down her cheeks. Buggy was sweating, despite the cold night breeze. He then chuckled softly, letting out a relieved breath, “Aww, baby. Don’t get so worked up about her. She saved my life! And we are after the same person so.. I kind of owe her an alliance.”

Y/n shook her head, no.. no she couldn’t believe that. That woman was beautiful, there was no way Buggy wasn’t cheating on her, or planning to cheat. Even if he wasn’t planning on it, it would happen eventually; Buggy falling for that lady was inevitable and Y/n didn’t want to stick around to see that happen, “Do you think I’m stupid? Why would you lie to me?!” She cried out.

Buggy furrowed his brows, “Wha- I’M NOT LYING!! Why do you think I’m lying to you?!”

“Because she’s gorgeous!! Do you expect me to believe that you bringing her here is just some ‘alliance’?!” Y/n wiped her tears just to make way for more, “At least break up with me before you decide to bring another girl on board!!”

“IT WOULDN’T MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE IF SHE WAS A MAN!!” Buggy shouted, growling, he was angry.. he wasn’t going to let Y/n leave him over something as stupid as this.. “What did you expect me to do?! Let myself die because she’s a conventionally attractive woman?! Did you want me to be like ‘Oh sorry ma’am, even though I’m stranded in the middle of the sea with just my head, hands and feet, I can’t let you save me because my girlfriend is insecure! Please leave me to die!’”

“I’M NOT INSECURE!!” Y/n shouted, bawling yet again, she turned away and leaned over the side of the railing, letting her tears fall into the ocean.

“YOU’RE BEING INSECURE RIGHT NOW!! WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO BE INSECURE ABOUT!!” Buggy yelled back at Y/n, his tone making her cry even more.

He’s yelling at me.. he called me insecure. Does he really think I’m insecure? Maybe that’s why.. that lady is so confident, she always talks about how perfect she is, how beautiful she is. Y/n gripped the railing, She could take anybody’s man and not feel sorry at all because she’s too perfect to be bothered.

“You’re overreacting, babe! Come downstairs! Just- give it a chance? I promise this situation is not as bad as you think.”

“I wanna go home, Buggy.” Y/n croaked, sniffling and crying. She felt worthless, defeated, unloveable. Her heart was shattered into a million pieces. How could she ever hold a dime to that other woman? Why was this happening to her? Why didn’t Buggy love her anymore?

Y/n cried some more, feeling absolutely shattered. Buggy stood there with his mouth open, his chest felt tight, it felt like it was on fire.. “Y/n.. Y/n, I-..” he swallowed, clenching his jaw to keep himself from crying, “Ok. I’ll tell the navigator.” He spoke quietly, his voice husky and heartbroken.

Buggy’s bed was cold that night, Y/n wasn’t there with him. His heart hurt, he felt alone as he gripped the bottle of booze in his hand. He growled and slapped a hand over his eyes, “Dammit.” He hissed quietly, his breath was hot and whisky flavored. His long blue hair was sprawled out around him. He sighed, taking his hand away to look out of the window. Maybe Y/n just needs some rest.. I’ll talk to her about this in the morning, she’s just not thinking straight, that’s all. His jaw was clenched tightly, it was kind of painful, Y/n can’t just.. leave me. She can’t leave, she won’t.. I’ll talk to her it’ll be fine.

“C’MON BABY!!” Buggy screamed up at Y/n, who was hiding out in the crows nest, “YOU’RE STILL UPSET?! Please just come down and talk to me!!”

Y/n was curled up, miserable and still crying. She had slept in the crow’s nest all night. She figured that Buggy could’ve just gotten that woman to sleep with him instead, for all she knew was that Buggy completely replaced her in his heart and that he was just trying to reason with her so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

But Y/n was already hurting, she was hurting so much. They were already on route to head back to her home town, it wouldn’t be long before Y/n could leave and Buggy could be happy with Alvida.. completely forgetting about Y/n.

Buggy growled, beginning to get frustrated, he stomped his foot and crossed his arms, “Y/N!! As your boyfriend, I DEMAND that you come down THIS INSTANT and talk to me!!!” He yelled in a commanding, booming tone. Y/n still didn’t budge.

“OH COME ON!! AT LEAST SAY SOMETHING!!!”

“FINE!! Be that way!!” Buggy grumbled and stomped off back to his quarters, his long blue hair that came out the sides of his hat swished gracefully as he turned. He was probably going to get his 5th drink of the morning.

Buggy had his arms wrapped around Y/n from behind as she stood on the dock, “Please baby..” he sobbed, holding her tightly, “Please, please.. please don’t leave. Don’t do this to me baby.” His voice cracked, he had never cried this hard before. Actually.. he never cried like this— at all. He didn’t care that all of his crew members were leaning over the side of the boat, looking at the soap opera that was happening below them.

Buggy thought that they could work this out, that he could’ve spoken to her at least, he didn’t think she was serious when she spoke about leaving, he didn’t even know what would happen if he let her leave; what was he going to do?! Who was going to sit on his lap?! Who was going to nag him about how many drinks he had in one hour, or complain about how messy the room was?! “Baby please, baby.. baby.” He repeated, saying “baby” as if it was a magic word, a prayer that would make Y/n stay. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, smearing his makeup, “Please don’t do this to me!! Don’t leave me..” he sounded desperate, he felt sick to his stomach both from the heartache, and how much he had been drinking earlier.

Buggy’s tight hold on her, combined with his begs and pleads being muffled into her shoulder made Y/n’s eyes water, her heart was being torn apart, why was he doing this?! She knew that he wanted the other woman, why was he doing this to her?! Was this a sick, twisted joke? Was he taunting her? “Buggy.. please let go of me..” Y/n said as she tried to walk back into town, but Buggy clung onto her like a vice grip.

“I don’t want to!!! Y/n!!” Buggy sobbed.

Y/n bit her bottom lip, a tear slipped down her cheek, If I stay.. he’ll leave me. She kept telling herself, I’ll be so alone, I’ll have to watch her take my place. More tears spilled from Y/n’s eyes, “Buggy, please stop.” She whispered as if Buggy had seriously injured her, like she was in physical pain.

Y/n took another step forward and made Buggy fall to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her legs and cried harder, “Y/N DON’T DO THIS TO ME!!” He sobbed heavily, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!” She had never heard this kind of tone from him.. he was sobbing, completely broken.

Y/n slipped out from Buggy’s arms, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks yet again, “Buggy, stop. Buggy please stop, I have to go Buggy, I can’t stay.” Y/n shook her head, crying and refusing to look at Buggy as he got on all fours.

He cried hard, praying to whoever would listen to please don’t let Y/n leave. Don’t take Y/n away from him over something so stupid.

Buggy screamed as Y/n began running away, “Y/N!!!!!” He didn’t have the strength to move, he felt so sick— he didn’t feel like this before, he felt queasy, his head was pounding. None of this felt real, Buggy didn’t want to comprehend what was happening, “Y/N!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME!!!! YOU BITCH!!” He shouted, instantly regretting that. It made it heart hurt even more.

“BABY!! PLEASE COME BACK!! COME BACK!!”

Cabaji hopped down onto the dock and kneeled down beside Buggy, placing a hand on his back, “Just- give her time, captain..”

Buggy’s head hung low, droplets of tears fell onto the wood underneath him, “What am I going to do?!”

#one piece #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy headcanons #buggy imagines #buggy angst #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla #opla buggy #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines

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wormswurld · 3 months

Text

rewatched saltburn for the 5th time today so here are my rewatch thoughts! 🌟

- opening shot ollie is smoking a cigarette meaning that after all these years of felix being dead he still holds onto the habit felix bestowed upon him: smoking. (there will always be traces of felix catton throughout ollie’s life…)

- ollie saying how exhausted felix was cuz of how often he was chased and adored by ppl is literally just him projecting & being annoyed that felix wasn’t his from the beginning

- “but was i “in love” with him?” yes. yes you were. yes you are. yes.

- ollie looking like such a fucking nerd when arriving at oxford. like boy if you don’t take THAT DAMN SCARF OFF i swear to god

- ollie looks so good with glasses ughhhhhhh

- the way ollie says “meryside” 🤤

- i will never get over farleigh’s voice like it’s so perfect

- as much as i hate michael gavey i will always quote his “NFI me and you…not fucking invited” line

- ollie is rizzing the shit out of felix with his blue eyes during the bike scene and i’ll always respect him for that

- the way farleigh says “jägerbombs!” is so satisfying

- i love ollie’s slutty little chain he wears

- felix amica. felix amica. felix amica. felix amica. felix amica. felix amica.

- ollie & felix look so happy dancing together 😭

- felix having his hand on ollie’s thigh as he does eenie meanie makes my brain short circuit

- “was it awful?” my god felix really is like elspeth

- this modern love playing as ollie finds felix at the pub surrounded by all his friends and the lyrics that play are “what are you holding out for? what’s always in the way?” UGH.

- felix being the first person ollie sees when he comes out of the exams 😭😭😭

- felix could have so kissed ollie during the bridge confession scene

- duncan scaring the shit out of ollie when he first arrives at saltburn makes me laugh so much i love him

- the way the sunlight accentuates felix’s torso through his linen shirt makes my head spin

- felix definitely made ollie & him share a bathroom on purpose

- “darling you’re kind about everyone” NO HE IS NOT. FELIX IS NOT KIND.

- pamela’s jewelry is to die for

- “so i hope you didn’t pack anything scandalous” DO YOU WANT HIM TO FELIX?????

- ollie giving venetia his blanket under the guise of “oh you must be cold here’s this” is so funny because i know he did that on purpose due to him knowing how venetia feels about him

- i love how emerald made ollie having a big dick canon lmao

- all of them watching the ring is so cute

- ollie sleeping as him and felix lounge by the pool together 😭

- ollie eye fucking felix as he sucks on an ice pop is so real

- LOOOVE farleigh’s “dump him” shirt

- felix giggling as he has ollie on his knees drinking wine is so cute

- the way ollie inhales shakily as he watches felix get off is so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

- i absolutely love how eager ollie is when he licks felix’s cum from the drain like ohhhhhhhhhh…..

- also ollie softly moaning as he does it my god sedate me

- i will never get over how ollie practically puts his whole fist in venetia’s mouth + smears the blood all over her mouth and chest

- farleigh playing fuck, chuck, or marry with the kings is literally just an opportunity for him to tell oliver he would fuck him + to also read ollie as an insecure parasite that only lives for getting what he wants & obviously ollie picks up on it

- ollie crying after felix scolds him about lying is so sad my god that boy was heartbroken

- farleigh telling ollie “try harder next time baby” is so hot FUCK

- the transition from ollie blowing out his candles to the song lonliness is probably one of the best transitions in media ever

- “i just need you to understand how much i fucking love you” MY HEART IS BREAKING.

- felix would so have kissed ollie in the maze if he wasn’t shoved away

- elspeth’s sob when she finds felix dead is one of the most earth shattering things i’ve ever heard especially accompanied with the swell of the orchestra it is absolutely gut wrenching

- the grave scene is so beautifully shot it makes me cry poor ollie just wanted to be close to his felix one more time

- seeing ollie dance naked around the house is just so freeing and !!!!!!

thats all my silly little commentary, thank you for reading my word vomit 🤗

#saltburn #saltburn posting #oliver quick #felix catton #cattonquick #felix x oliver #lgbtqia #wormswurld posts 🌟

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quinloki · 5 months

Text

Random ass Eustass Kid one shot.

College AU I guess.

Reader just got dumped, no pronouns used. Kid calls ‘em Mouse because I love it when Kid calls the reader Mouse so you’re probably going to see that in Every Single Kid Fic I Ever Write.

SFW, comfort

Cheesy

“You alright?”

The gruff familiar voice crashes over you like rain, and you dry your tears hastily before glancing up at him. You can’t feign contact long though, and look away.

“Yeah.” You say, with a defeated huff.

There’s a pause, and it’s almost awkward. You’ve never known Kid to suffer awkwardness.

“You sure?” He prompts, sitting down beside you. There was no shaking him now, but you weren’t sure you wanted you to.

“Yeah.” You say a little more energetically. “I’ll make it.”

Kid snorts, looking around a little before he rummages in his pack and pulls out a candy bar and a soda. “Anything you want me to deal with?”

You laugh, a sharp barked sound, taking the offered snacks without arguing. You know what kind of help Kid’s good at, and it’s not diplomatic, that’s for fucking sure.

“Nah. It won’t fix it.” You admit, wiping a tear that’s pricked the side of your eye for a different reason.

“Might make ya’ feel better.” He offers, pulling out another soda and opening it for himself.

You smile, the concern is appreciated at least. “It… won’t. Is what it is, I just need to move on.”

“… it woulda made me feel better.” He grouses, and you look over to see his ears are pink.

You look away at the implication and busy yourself with the candy bar for a few long moments. It’s comfortable around him, always has been. He’s just too loud, too proud, too dangerous for you.

It wouldn’t work.

At least that had been what you told yourself when you’d turned him down, picking a different guy to date a few months ago. Kid had warned there wouldn’t be another chance, he wasn’t someone who waited around for a pretty piece of ass. It had almost been a fight between you two, the first real one you maybe ever had.

“I… thought you were gonna move on.” You murmur quietly.

The silence stretched on for long enough you figured that was the end of the conversation. Eustass Kid wasn’t going to dent his pride for someone, no matter who they were. One of the guys maybe, someone who’d been in his life for decades. You could see him pushing aside his pride for Killer or Heat or Wire, if he had no other choice.

Still, it was nice to have someone around while you shrugged off the pieces of a failed relationship. Besides, you wouldn’t risk treating Kid like some rebound.

You shift a little, trying to find the words to say farewell for now, but Kid gets up. A heavy hand ruffles your hoodie against your hair, pushing your head down as you grumble at him.

“When you’re ready to give some flaky loser another shot, Mouse, let me know first.” He says, in a voice that’s trying to sound flippant.

“You’re not a flaky loser,” you retort, scrambling to your feet. “I don’t want you to say that about-!”

Kid turns on his heel suddenly facing you, hand wrapped in your hoodie as he pulls you into a rough kiss.

The action shatters your brain, so sudden and desperate and needy you don’t know what to do but sink into him. The kiss breaks and his eyes are locked on yours, a crooked grin on his face.

“Not how I meant that, Mouse.” He hums, in a voice soft and sure and devastatingly sweet to your ears.

He lets you go, turning and walking away. “Think it over. I’m not stupid enough to let you go if you’re dumb enough to pick me.”

#quin muses #reader insert #x reader #eustass kid #one shots #one piece fanfiction #I typed this on my phone when I couldn’t stand working and needed a break #so please excuse any missed words or typos.

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

Note

gojo’s younger sister with nanami pls

Your wish is my command. Planned this for sooo long and now I finally have an excuse to write it down haha. Please let me know if you like it <3

Nanami and Gojo's little sister meeting again years after their ugly breakup

Pairing: Nanami x Gojo's sister

Word Count: 3,5k

Synopsis: It's been some hell of years since Nanami left Gojo's younger sister for another woman. But when her big brother invites her to Jujutsu HIgh again, things start to unveil...

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, just got a new laptop so there might be some spelling mistakes (sorry about that)

As usual, I'm always thankful for comments, likes and reblogs. Thank you for your support <3

„Why me?“, Nanami growls, looking up from the paper in his hands.

“Because I’m absolutely not in the mood to listen to her gossip. Also, you’re her favorite. Sometimes I even think she loves you more than me…”

“Satoru, I’m not the babysitter for your little sister.”

“Come on Namani, I bet she’s happy to see you again! You guys got along so well!”

The imagines of your last meet-up crowd into his head and inevitably make Nanami grimace.

“The emphasis is on ‘got’. You know exactly what happened last time. What makes you think she wants to see me after all of this?”, Nanami questions in annoyance.

Deep down, he knows exactly that Gojo just wants to mess with him. It’s been years since he dumped you. Years in which you never saw each other again. Satoru mentioned that you are travelling somewhere in japan and driving out curses there quite successfully. You’ve always been a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer. It seems to run in the family – as well as your bratty behavior and good looks.

“That was years ago, I bet her sparrow brain has long since forgotten who you even are. Please pick her up”, Gojo purrs and rubs his head against Nanami’s shoulder.

Nanami signs in defeat. Does he have any choice at all? Hopefully you know about it and there is no nasty surprise…

-later at the airport-

Your bag falls to the ground with a rattle.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here, Sir”, you cry out, eyes covered in sunglasses.

“Your brother said to pick you up from the airport and that you know”, Nanami explains briefly, like it would somehow help curb your upcoming anger.

“That shithead. I just shouldn’t have come at all. Urgh, fine. Just don’t talk to me, idiot”, you snap back and angrily throw your bag in the trunk of the car.

Kento is the last person you want to see and Satoru knows that. Why is he sending him here? He could have moved his lazy ass to pick you up himself. After all, it was him who invited you to his academy in order to help him out.

You demonstratively sit in the back seat and cross your arms in front of your chest, not gifting him a single look. Kento was the first man to ever break your heart – extensively. And you will probably never be able to forgive him for that.

“That should not be a problem”, Nanami mutters to himself and starts the car.

Your eyes pierce through the back of his head. What did he just say?

“Like you’ve got a reason to be mad at me”, you hiss.

“May I remind you that you didn’t even give me the chance to work things out? You just packed your things and left”, Nanami comments dryly and starts the car.

“Like it was ever your intention to fix it.”

“Good that you know better what I thought than me”, he barks back, unusual aroused.

God, you’re still as annoying as back then. Always having the last word, you always think you know better, your overconfidence. It drives him insane. But you still look as good as you did then, like you haven’t aged a second. The only thing that catches is eyes are your now fuller curves and the fact that you cut your hair a little shorter. Well, you are a woman now, all grown up in your twenties.

“You left me completely shattered, asshole. I had no choice but to go. You made me lose faith in love and relationships forever”, you mutter, gaze wandering around the trees outside.

The thought alone runs shivers down your spine. Kento was your first and last love. You never believed a man would upset you like that, even though Satoru is your bigger brother. It hurt like hell for several years. Seeing him now, with his hair styled in a delicious undercut and the sharp lines of his jaw makes your heart ache in agony all over again.

“I sincerely apologize for that. It was never my intention to hurt you like that, (y/n)”, Nanami replies with a soft voice, completely startled by your confession.

He knew you had some rough years. Sometimes he just couldn’t hold back and had to ask Satoru how you were. But hearing from your own mouth how much he hurt you makes his heart sink in his chest.

“Whatever. Leave me alone and focus on driving.”

-at Jujutsu High-

“(y/n), there you are! You have no idea how much I missed you!”, Satoru shouts across the athletic field that separates you both.

Your whole body shakes in anger. That fucking asshole, the cheeky grin on his stupid face says it all. That was pure intention to get on your nerves. Satoru is probably the worst big brother you could wish for.

“I will beat your ass in front of your students, shithead!”, you yell at him and stomp across the square at a frightening speed.

“Who is that?”, Yuji questions and squints his eyes in order to see you better.

“That’s Gojo’s little sister. Be careful, she looks pretty pissed off”, Panda whispers while all pairs of eyes are set on you and Nanami walking behind you at a safe distance.

“Come on, (y/n). Let’s talk abou-“

Satoru isn’t able to finish his sentence as you blow him away with a simple hand movement.

“Pretty stupid to piss off the only person who can breach your sphere”, you hiss through gritted teeth, more than ready to hit him again.

“Oh, how much I missed our little fights. How was your ride? Nanami is an excellent driver”, he keeps digging while dodging your unfocused punches.

“I thought you valued my feelings more.”

The hurt in your voice makes him stop your flying fists in track, you can feel his eyes staring at you behind his blindfold. He knew, of course, that the breakup hurt, but the pain that glitters in your eyes is unknown to him. And the tone of your voice…You were always so confident, so sure of yourself. At the moment, nothing seems to be left of it.

“I would never hurt you on purpose sister. After all these years, I thought you guys-“

“Shut up Satoru, I don’t wanna hear it”, you hiss back and wrench your arms free from his grasp.

“Hey Megumi, how have you been?”, you question over your shoulder.

“I’m alright. Nice that you’re here, you are definitely my favorite Gojo”, Megumi answers with a disparaging look towards Satoru.

“Well, the competition isn’t that big. Excuse me, I’ll bring my stuff in the house. See you later, kids.”

Without giving your brother another look, you stomp towards the sleeping wing, body still trembling in anger. Why is Satoru such a jerk? He knows full well that this breakup has left you completely shattered. It would have been absolutely avoidable to meet Kento here. Instead, he decided to get him to pick you up from the airport and ruin your trip right from start. You don’t want to see his stupid handsome face, the exhausted veil that covers his overworked eyes and his outrageously strong body. Damn, his new undercut really does look good.

“Here is your suitcase, (y/n). Have a nice stay.”

Nanami’s voice behind you makes your blood boil in an instant. Fuck, why can’t he just leave?

“Stop saying my name”, you bark at him while literally ripping open the door to the familiar guest dorm.

“Why can’t you act grown up for once? I’ve always appreciated you, this childish behavior doesn’t suit you at all”, Nanami replies dryly and loudly drops your bags on the floor at the corner of the room.

His words hit you like a wall. In the matter of seconds, he rips open all the wounds you desperately tried to heal over the last years. Has he forgotten what he did to you, why you act this way? Hot tears begin to burn in the corners of your eyes, your throat feels dangerously constricted. No, don’t cry. You’ve never been the type to whine a lot, especially in front of other people. Kento has never seen the tears he caused. Why now, after all these years?

“I gave you everything I had, Kento! I gave you my virginity, my whole fucking heart, you were everything for me this whole time! And after our very first night together you just left, after all the things we’ve been through. The things you threw at me…I will never forget the words you said. You claim you always appreciated me? That sounds like an insult. Don’t you dare to ever judge me again for treating you as badly as you treated be. How’s your girlfriend, huh? Was it worth it to dump me because of her? You fucking idiot, if you talk to me like that again I’ll blow your head off”, you scream into his face at the top of your lungs.

You can’t help but let your feelings out. Fuck, it feels good to finally tell him what you think, to tell him how you felt this whole time. He ripped your heart out of your chest when he informed you about ending things because he met another woman, just after fucking you for the first time. You felt miserably for years, never let another man touch you again. He has some nerves, standing in front of you and blaming you cowardly. Fuck your outburst and your tear-stained cheeks.

“If only you would listen to-“

“GET OUT. NOW”, you yell, whole body trembling in agony and rage.

“I think it’s time to go, Nanami”, Satoru’s unusual serious voice announces in the background.

“I hope that someday we can talk about what happened, (y/n).”

With that, he turns on his heels and leaves the room quietly. As soon as his frame is out of sight, your body gives in. You sink to the floor, hands covering your blood shot orbs while you urgently try to calm yourself down.

“I’m just not interested into you anymore, we should end things right here.”

“That night meant nothing to me.”

“Don’t ever call or text me again.”

You need to get him and his words out of your head, ban them out of your heart. But how do you forget all those nights you snuggled each other to sleep, his sweet words that followed you wherever you went, all those missions you accomplished together. What about the plans you made? What about the trust you gave him? Your shallow, rapid breath hanging dreadfully in the air. You just can’t forget.

“Come on, (y/n). Seeing you like this is killing me”, Satoru sits beside you and gently wraps his arm around his shoulder.

You want to yell at him, tear your body away from his touch, to slap his arm firmly. But you can’t. Your body refuses to move, completely consumed by the feelings you tried so hard to avoid.

“I think you two should talk. Of course I don’t know all the details, but I do know for sure that Nanami isn’t a bad guy. Whatever happened must have a good reason.”

“He left me for another girl, Satoru”, you breathe out.

“You may be the most annoying woman on this earth and I’ll never understand how well you two came along in the first place, but I’d cut off my hand if that’s true.”

“Better cut off your tongue, man…”

“I’m serious, (y/n)”, Satoru’s features are entirely stern, not even a spark of humor gleams in his eyes.

“Nanami may not be a great guy like me but he would have never cheated on you, let alone left you because of it. Talk to him, ask him about it. Must have been something else.”

He straightens himself up again, pouting your head just the way you hate it.

“And now get yourself together. I’ve got a very nice mission for you to go on.”

You stare at his back as he leaves the room, his words still hanging in the air. Satoru knows Kento since he joined Jujutsu High. If he is so sure about his friend…

No. You shake your head vehemently. Even Satoru doesn’t know everything. You would rather die than talk to Kento Nanami ever again.

-the mission-

“Huh, are you finished already? I thought we’d have a little more fun together…”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Your whole body is covered in bruises and your own blood while you stare at the creature in front of you. Who the hell is this guy? And why on earth is he so fucking strong? You are a grade 1 sorcerer, easily able to defeat most curses around. But this one? You stare at his scarred face, grimaced into a dumb grin.

This is something out of your league.

“Send someone here before I croak here, dumbass”, you hiss into your communicator just in time before he hits you again.

His attacks are merciless, almost impossible to block even though he doesn’t use a sphere.

Yet.

You wipe sweat and blood of your forehead. Who knows what this fucker is capable of.

“Ms. Gojo, we are here to help you!”

You can’t believe your ears. Who the hell is this guy waving at you like an idiot? And who the hell is walking next to him…

No. Not in the world. Let it be anyone but Kento Nanami. His blonde hair waves through the air while he forces himself onto the scar head, distracting him from your very own self before he hits you full force.

Nanami. What is he doing here? Thick anger crawls up your veins. Yes, you ask for help. But not from Nanami and some random jujutsu sorcerer.

“I thought Satoru would come here himself. This is nothing to joke around”, you bark at Kento.

Just as you want to turn away, a scorching pain radiates from your leg and takes your breath. Fuck, where does that come from?

“Oh, you’re injured!”

Your heart sinks into your chest, palms covered in nothing but your own blood and met by a giant gash in your thigh. When did this happen? This asshole has hit you so many times that you probably didn’t even notice it in your adrenaline rush.

This is bad. Very very bad. Even though he didn’t hit you critically, the amount of blood that runs down your leg is enough for you to know that you might bleed out if you won’t get any help.

“Are you alright?”

His tall frame lingers over you before you are able to stop him, kneeling down in front of you to take a look at your wound.

“Leave me alone-“

“This is serious. You might die, (y/n). I can’t afford to lose you.”

Like in trance you stare down at him, his words repeating themselves over and over in your head while your heart hammers against your chest.

“I can’t afford to lose you.”

“Why did you leave me, then?”

“Not now, (y/n). Yuji, stand your ground as long as possible. I need to escort (y/n) out of the curtain.”

“Gotcha!”

You slap his hands away, whole body trembling in…what? Anger, fear, agony? Maybe everything at once, you aren’t sure. His brown eyes dart towards you immediately.

“I’m trying to help you”, he comments dryly.

“This injury is nothing against the pain you caused me years ago.”

Your cruel words hit him like a wall. For a moment he can only stare at you, the way your striking blue orbs begin to glister and that look of distress on your beautiful face. No, you didn’t deserve what he did to you back then. You deserved so much better. But still…

“I did it for you.”

The words escape his mouth before he is able to stop himself.

“Oh, so traumatizing me was best for me? Wow, thank you so much for your help then. Maybe I should-“

“I saw what can happen. I saw what can happen when Yu died in front of my very own eyes. And I swore to myself to never let anything like that happen to you. I hoped you would quit being a jujutsu sorcerer, that hurting you enough would make you leave Jujutsu High for good, that you’d find a nice job. That you’d be safe.”

You stare at him through wet lashes, brain desperately trying to make sense out of his words. He can’t be serious, right? This can’t possibly be the reason why he left you.

But his eyes don’t lie. No, they never did.

“So you…you didn’t cheat on me?” you breathe out.

Fuck, you hate the way tears start to pool your eyes and how your whole body begins to tremble in emotion. All these years, all these horrible years you thought you meant nothing to Kento, that he ended your relationship because of another woman. All the things he said to you…They never left your head, always present in the following years.

You thought you weren’t good enough for him.

“I would have never cheated on you. But this was the only way to make you believe that I didn’t have any feelings for you.”

“Did you?”

You stare down at him, time standing still. All these wasted years of thinking you aren’t good enough. All these years you loved this man so much that you never let another man touch you. All these years of grieving his touch, of imagining him while touching yourself, of crying yourself to sleep instead of laying in his strong arms.

All this time. Can it really be fake?

“I never stopped loving you.”

Maybe it’s because of your blood loss or because your entire world turned upside down, but your knees give in, making you sink onto the floor if it wasn’t for Kento’s arms that catch you just in time.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

With fast steps he crosses the battlefield, eyes set on you from time to time. You still can’t believe it, everything seems like a dream that you’ve had multiple times before. He loves you. Nanami Kento just told you that he still loves you. After all these years of pretending he doesn’t care and breaking your heart.

“I wish you would have told me”, you mumble against his chest.

“I wish you would have told me the real reason. I would’ve understood, especially because I know how hard it was for you.”

“I realized how wrong this decision was. But every time we’ve met you were so distant, not even willing to talk a single word to me. I never had the chance to make up”, he explains briefly.

“You said you cheated on me”, you remind him weakly.

“I would have never cheated on you. Since you’ve been gone, I never touched another woman.”

You look up at him through wet lashes, the way his jawline is so tensed up that it might snap any minute. The urge to let your fingertips brush over his chest just like back then seems so unbearable all of the sudden. God, how much you loved caressing his soft skin, the scars that even then decorated his whole body. How does he look now? He definitely got older, aged like fine wine. You want to stop yourself from looking at him, from grieving his touch. After all he lied to you, he shattered your heart instead of just telling you the truth. Yes, he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness so easily for how he lied into your face this whole time. But still…

“Would you mind…Holding my hand?” you ask all of the sudden.

Nanami’s heart almost beats out of his chest, the way you look at him simply takes his breath away. He would have expected anything, but not this. No, this doesn’t suit your hot-tempered personality at all. Never in his life did he think that you would ask him to hold you hand after all the things he did to you, after he hurt you this badly. But who is he to resist your vibrant eyes, especially when you’re feeling unwell?

“Of course…” he stutters.

When his fingertips gently intertwine with yours, you feel as if he fired a firework inside you. God, how much you missed this. How much you missed him.

You allow your tired eyes to rest for a minute, whole body suddenly feelings so numb and light. Maybe all of this is just a dream and you’ll wake up any minute. But until then…

You want to hold his hand just like back then.

“But don’t think I’ll forgive you this easily”, you mutter weakly.

“This wouldn’t suit you at all”, he replies.

And for the first time in years, Kento Nanami is able to grin again. Because he finally confessed to the love of his life, because you’re laying here in his arm while holding his hand.

Everything will work out eventually.

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george-weasleys-girl · 7 months

Text

North Star Series

The Honeymoon

(NSFW) 18+only

Warnings: pure smut, a few curse words

~•~

Y/N clenched around her husband's cock, the vast array of food forgotten. She'd been teasing him for the better part of an hour, sliding up and down his dick at an excruciatingly slow pace until they both were trembling with need. George gazed at her through the heavy haze of pleasure surging through him. He was in heaven, and Y/N looked like an absolute angel, with her head thrown back and her moans mixing with his. The chair beneath them creaked as she quickened her pace. George ignored it. They were so close, his balls tightening in tandem with her pussy. "Cum with me, baby," he grunted, pressing his thumb to her clit.

"Fuck yes, George!" She cried out, pulsing around him just as his own ecstasy overtook him, groaning her name as he filled her to the brim.

Y/N fell forward onto him, both of them still shaking from the aftershocks when the chair gave way with a loud crack, dumping them into a heap on the floor, both of them laughing even as they still worked to find their breath.

"Hey, we've hit a new milestone in our relationship," George chuckled. "Breaking a piece of furniture while fucking each other's brains out." Then he pushed himself up and offered a hand to his wife. "I think this might be a sign that we should take a wee break before round two."

Y/N grinned and took his hand. "Agreed."

~•~

George kissed his way down Y/N's body. With a soft sigh, she spread her legs, welcoming his mouth. The scent of their mingled pleasure from earlier still lingered, and the image of her face, flush with ecstasy while she rode him, flickered across mind. All he wanted now was to see that look on her beautiful face again. He pushed the covers back so he could watch her every move and then proceeded to work his magic.

The cutest little gasp escaped her lips as his tongue probed inside her warmth. "Fuck, Georgie, that feels so good," she praised, letting her head fall back.

He grinned up at her. "Keep your eyes on me, darling," he said and took it up a notch, moving to kitten-lick her sensitive nub. She raised her hips up pressing her wet cunt against his face. He sucked on her clit, drawing the prettiest moans out of her as he slid two fingers inside her heat. Y/N clenched around him. "God, you're so fucking good at this," she gasped. The words went straight to his cock, droplets of precum wetting the sheets as he pressed his throbbing erection into the mattress, sending a tremor of pleasure down his spine.

George loved her like this. A quivering, moaning mess completely at his mercy. He knew what each curl of his fingers and each flick of his tongue would do to her. Every movement. Every sound. George knew them all by heart. And yet, knowing them didn't make it any less exhilarating or arousing. Quite the opposite, in fact. He thrust his hips slowly, reveling in the sensations that made him moan uncontrollably into her pussy.

"I'm so close, Georgie," Y/N panted, her legs shaking as the walls of her cunt pulsed around his fingers. His balls throbbed in response, and he could feel the pressure building. For a brief moment he considered replacing his fingers with his cock and cumming inside her, but before he could finish the thought it was too late. His whole body convulsed and wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through him as he spurted his release onto the silken bedsheets. Y/N followed close behind, toes curling with an earth-shattering moan that sent one last surge of ecstasy through George before he collapsed on her stomach.

"Wow... " Y/N sighed once she could form words again. "That was fucking amazing. I think I left the stratosphere for a few seconds."

George chuckled and kissed her belly. "I think I went with you."

Y/N looked down at him and grinned affectionately. "Did you...?"

"Yep," he returned her grin.

"Well, it wasn't the first time," she giggled.

"And it won't be the last either," he waggled his eyebrows.

~•~

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @ceehance @whotfskai

#george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #north star series #hp fandom #hp universe

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 22 days

Text

i like your panties

pairing: idol minho x fem reader

synopsis: you drunk text minho and accidentally send him something you shouldn’t

genre: idek- a little angsty? implied smut?

word count: ~1.3k

warnings: drinking.. is that all?

an: this was a request sent to my dms. obviously this is a fictional story, but i feel like i need to preface this one with that disclaimer because if this were real, our sweet minho would be in loads of trouble. 😅

masterlist • part 2

“another!” you shout, holding up your shot glass and clinking it against your friends’

you throw back the shot, scrunching up your face at the taste, before letting out a loud cheer and a giggle. you felt all fuzzy. warm and giddy. you needed this. after everything that happened with your ex, you needed a night out with your friends.

“so tell us everything.” your friend slurred at you from across the table. “what happened with you two?”

normally that question would sting, would feel like a stab in the gut, but you were so drunk that the question only made you giggle.

“he was mad that i like stray kids.” you told them. the table erupted into laughter.

“he dumped you because you like a kpop group?” your friend laughed.

you sloppily nodded. “yeah. he didn’t like that i had them on bubble. he saw a message from Lee Know pop up on my phone and he-“ hiccup “he freaked.”

another round of laughter made its way around the table. “what a loser.” one of your friends said.

“yeah. how insecure can he be?” another added.

“honestly, Lee Know would never treat you that way.” another joked, causing the laughter to grow louder.

ding

“speak of the devil.” you said, looking down at your phone.

“what? does he want you back now? is it him apologizing?”

you shook your head no. “no, i blocked his number. it’s Lee Know.” you giggled, turning your phone to show them his bubble message. it was just an extreme close up of his food and the message ‘맞춰봐 (take a guess)’ soon followed. you typed out your response to him, like he would ever see it, but instead of guessing what food he was eating, you typed out your phone number and the words ‘text me’ with a heart emoji. and before your drunken brain could become aware of the possible consequences to that action, you hit send. locking your phone, you shoved it back in your pocket.

“another shot!” your friend yelled to the bartender.

•

your keys clattered to the floor, jingling loudly in the hallway. “shit” you mumbled. carefully bending over to pick them up, swaying on your feet. you tried yet again, for the fourth time, to shove the key in the lock. by some miracle you managed to do it this time, unlocking the door and practically falling into your apartment. you drunkenly kicked off your shoes and stumbled to your room, falling on your bed.

you lay there, wanting your clothes off, but the room is kind of spinning. you manage to kick your pants off, and somehow you unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side.

now that you’re alone again, and the apartment is so quiet, you notice his absence. his stuff is all gone, his side of the bed empty. the bandaid that the alcohol and your friends managed to put on your wound has lost all of its stick and slowly falls to the ground. your world shatters again, your heart splintering. you think maybe you should unblock his number and call him to apologize. tell him that you’ll cancel your bubble subscription.. and you can put your Leebit in the closet or something. your eyes well up with tears. instead of shoving him in the closet, you pull Leebit closer to your chest and scrunch your eyes shut tight, fighting the urge to sob.

ding

your eyes fly open, your arm grasping around for your phone. you find it on the floor, in the pocket of your discarded pants. you bring the phone to your face, reading the notification.

—private number: hello?

it was your ex. it had to be. he got a new number to text you from because you blocked his old one. but why was it private? your drunken mind couldn’t find the will to care about that question, instead opting to sloppily type out a reply that was almost illegible.

“helo in soo sorry.” you typed.

—private number: why are you sorry? why are your texts so sloppy? have you been drinking?

“yup. k went out woth some friends. i miss you.” you replied.

—private number: are you home safe now? did you eat? drink some water.

you smiled at his message. how sweet. he never sent messages like that before. never seemed to care that much about you before. he must miss you too. you sat up, slipping your shirt off and throwing it on the floor to join your pants and bra. you were nude except for some lace panties. you managed to snap a couple of pictures. scrolling through them, past all the blurry ones, you decide on one and text it to him.

*attached image* “i made ut home safer, see? come over. 😘” you sent. minutes passed with no response. you were starting to get anxious, thinking maybe you should send another picture, maybe he didn’t get the message. but before you can do so, your phone dings again.

—private number: woah woah woah. i’m not sure if i should be seeing that.

you were starting to sober up now, worry twisting in your gut.

“what do you mean? you’ve seen it a million times. you don’t like it now?” you reply.

—private number: i have definitely never seen that before. how old are you? should i be worried? maybe this was a bad idea.

you were so confused. what is he talking about?

—private number: of course this was a bad idea. chan hyung told me not to text a number sent to me on bubble.

it was like a lightbulb went off over your head. just like in the cartoons, it clicked on and buzzed softly. you remembered the message you sent to minho on bubble when you were at the bar. drunk you is very brave apparently. what are the odds that he would have seen that message though? and the odds are even smaller that he would actually text you. this can’t be happening. you’re passed out drunk and this is all some elaborate drunken nightmare your brain is conjuring up. and you sent nudes. you almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of it all. did you send Lee Min-Ho nudes?

“Lee Know?” you texted, feeling silly.

—private number: before i answer that question, answer mine.

“i’m 27.” you replied.

—private number: thank god. you can’t just send stuff like that. are you trying to ruin my career? i thought you liked me.

“is this really Lee Know? no way.”

—private number: i assure you, it is.

“prove it.” you say. “send a picture to your bubble right now.”

after a couple moments your phone sounds off with a ding. a bubble message appears and when you click on it, you find a photo of a very annoyed looking Minho.

—private number: proof enough?

your heart dropped to your stomach, which was filled with butterflies but at the same time you thought you may throw up.

“OH MY GOD.” send. “IM SO SORRY.” send. “I PROMISE I DIDNT KNKW IT WAS TOU. I THOUGHT IT WAS MY EX. DONT LOOK .” send.

—private number: ㅋㅋ you’re cute.

“oh my god. i am so so so sorry. i promise i did not send that to you on purpose. i would never put you in that situation. please forgive me.” you rambled.

—private number: ㅋㅋ this is so funny. its okay.

“it is definitely NOT okay.” you argue.

—private number: i didn’t mind the picture. in fact, i may have another look. if that’s okay with you.

what? what did he just say? you read the text again and again. yup. this was definitely an alcohol induced dream.

—private number: i like your panties.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids lee minho #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know x y/n #lee know skz #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know stray kids

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bloodfreak-boyking · 4 months

Text

i literally can't stop thinking about shifter!dean so i curse thee with a brain dump ficlet. cw for non-con groping & kissing

---

"See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends, you could have a life," the shifter said, Dean's stolen face barely visible in the dim sewer light. His eyes flicked between Sam's, hurt and something unidentifiable swimming in them. "Me?" He leaned in closer, the space between them growing hot and humid. Sam could feel the shifter's breath on his cheek. "I know I'm a freak."

Sam scowled, glaring the creature down. "What the hell are you talking about?" Dean was a lot of things; a nerd, a jerk, disgustingly charming, but not a freak. That title was reserved for Sam.

A grin twitched across the shifter's lips. "Oh, you don't know, do you?" it said, amusement thick in his voice.

Sam knew he should ignore it, this impulse to get insight into his brother's mind, his thoughts and feelings that he kept held so closely to his chest. The thing would probably lie anyway. But Sam was never good at resisting temptation. "Know what?"

Not-Dean was suddenly straddling Sam's thighs, a lascivious smile on his face. Sam instinctively tried to move away, but the rope kept him from doing much more than squirming under the creature's weight. A low chuckle rumbled in its chest. "Dean here?" It shoved its hand between them, roughly palming Sam through worn denim. Sam tried to stifle a gasp, only half succeeding. "He wants you. Hell, he's wanted you since he was seventeen."

Sam felt frozen, shock making his limbs feel numb. Or maybe that was the rope cutting off his circulation, he couldn't really spare the brain power to tell. "Wh-what? No, you...you're lying."

The shifter leaned in closer, nipping at Sam's earlobe. "Oh, the things he wants to do to you." He ground his hips down against Sam's lap forcefully. "His sweet little Sammy."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam registered Not-Dean was hard. Another sharp bite, this time to the hinge of his jaw, had him letting out a startled yelp.

The shifter groaned against his skin. "God what he would give to hear you make noises like that." It grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair, yanking down on it hard. Sam, in an attempt to stifle a loud cry, let a pitiful whimper slip past his lips instead. The creature's eyelids fluttered shut. "Fuck, yeah, just like that."

Warm, plush lips were suddenly on him, sliding against his stock-still ones. Before his brain could send the message of no bad no, his own lips were moving. The shifter growled and pulled his head back further, drawing a gasp out of Sam and giving himself an opening to lick deep into Sam's mouth. A soft moan escaped Sam. What could he say? The thing could kiss. Dean could kiss.

It was like a bucket of ice water was dumped on him. He twisted his head away, forcibly breaking the kiss. His heart was hammering in his chest and his stomach flipped and the worst part was, Sam couldn't tell if it was disgust or...

The shifter slowly stood, still trying to catch its breath. It reached down and grabbed one of their duffel bags, swinging it over his shoulder. "Well, it's been great, y'know, shattering your worldview and all," he looked Sam up and down once more, predatory, "but I've got a hot date with lovely little Becky."

...

"Well that's 'cause you're a freak," Dean, the real Dean, teased from behind the wheel as Saint Louis disappeared behind them.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, thanks," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Well I'm a freak too. I'm right there with you, all the way."

"Yeah, I know you are." Sam looked down at his hands, twisting them nervously in his lap. The shifter's words bounced around his brain: He wants you. He shifted in his seat and bit his lip, the next part of the memory playing involuntarily.

Dean shot him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Dean...um..." Sam readjusted in his seat again, the Impala suddenly feeling claustrophobically small. "Well, I, uh-"

"C'mon Sammy, spit it out."

"The...the, uh, shifter. It...well it...there's something..."

Dean shot him an annoyed glare "Sam," he admonished.

"Do you want me?" Sam blurted out, his face blooming scarlet and his skin too hot.

Dean's grip tightened on the wheel. A muscle in his jaw ticked. "What?" His voice was too calm, too measured.

"The shifter, it said you wanted me. It...it kissed me. Do...do you want me that way, Dean?"

Dean was clenching his teeth so hard that Sam could've sworn he heard his jaw creaking. His knuckles were white on the wheel and his face, where Sam expected to see fiery red skin, angry or embarrassed, was drained of all color. Dean didn't respond or even look at Sam, just turned up the radio so loud that neither could hear themselves think.

Sam's stomach was in knots again, and this time, it was worse: he knew it wasn't disgust.

#spn #wincest #shifter!dean #1x6 skin #ficlet #cw noncon kissing #cw noncon groping

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ghoststyles · 9 months

Text

Fairway to Heaven Part 8

8K.... 🤠👍

______________________________________________________________

Harry prides himself on his ability to keep his composure. He has to as a boss, a mentor, a partner. But in this moment, he feels out of his mind. His love, his reason for being some days, wants nothing to do with him while he’s an entire ocean away.

While he’s over the moon about meeting Oliver and mending burned bridges with Camille, he’s ready to fly home. He has two more weeks in France. Time he can spend changing Briar’s mind.

He reaches for his phone to reply to Camille.

Everything is alright now. I’ll be at the pitch shortly.

Ok. See you soon.

Harry inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth in hopes of putting on his brave face. Parents have to do this all the time, he thinks. He didn’t think he’d need it, but he packed his Xanax anyway. With shaky hands, he pulls the container of pills from his toiletries, not even taking a swig of water to wash it down.

Barely able to look in the mirror, he lifts his head painfully to find his eyes puffy and swollen, and his chest red from the panic rash that formed. His mind is reeling from Briar’s sudden flip on him and his heart hasn’t stopped hammering in his chest.

Walking over to the dresser, he stumbles on the edge of his suitcase. He angrily shoves it with his foot before pulling a pair of jeans and a light sweater from the drawer. He dumps his rings out of their cinched pouch onto a towel on the table, staring at each of them before putting on his usual suspects. The ruby ring he and Briar picked out together on a whim sends a shiver down his spine.

They’d just eaten lunch, and were wandering aimlessly down the street of a nearby town when Briar spotted a pawn and thrift shop. The smell of mothballs and incense overwhelmed their senses, but Briar pulled them further in, slowly analyzing the unique pieces. She hovered over a jewelry case when she pointed to the square ruby stone and metal band.

“You need one,” she reached for his left hand, lifting up his pointer finger. “For this one. It’s empty.”

“Y’think?” He smiled at her, staring at her lips.

“Yeah,” she poked her tongue in her cheek while lifting his hand to rest on the hollow of her neck. “‘d feel good right here.”

Harry’s jaw locked before rolling his eyes, “Not now, Birdie.”

The sound of the street below breaks Harry from his train of thought. He’d better go if he wants to make it to Oliver’s game on time. He calls his Uber, but not before sending Briar a text.

🦊: Please don’t do this, love. Get some sleep and call me when you wake up. I’ll talk all night if we have to. I love you.

Not expecting an answer, he shoves his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes, but his nervous system is shutting down on him. He wants to pop into the shop and buy some, but the gruff driver arrives minutes later, waving Harry in the car.

He lays his head against the window and shuts his eyes. The panic is slowly starting to leave his body as the pill works its magic. He watches happy couples stroll the city of love as he’s the most miserable he’s ever felt. Even more so than when Camille left him.

Harry knows she’s probably stewing with emotions, but he stops himself from blowing up her phone.

Briar is on her bathroom floor staring up at the ceiling after heaving into the toilet for an hour. It’s not food poisoning. She’s not drunk. She’s worried she’s made the worse decision of her life.

Her heart is shattered, her brain is screaming at her, and her gut feels right. Her gut is rarely wrong; but her heart is begging it to be.

It’s now close to 3AM, and there’s a slim chance of Briar getting any sleep. Part of her wants to call Harry, but she knows he promised to go to Oliver’s game. He’s probably suffering enough.

Briar knows she’s being unfair. If years of therapy taught her anything, she’s overly self-aware. Her phone buzzes, so she looks down to find Harry’s text. Her bottom lip immediately starts to quiver, trying to hold back tears.

Even though she hurt him, he’s still level-headed and sweet to her. He probably thinks she’s having one of her moments of intense feelings and needs time to calm down. It’s the scorpio moon in her; brash, intense and passionate. Gus is hovering over her as the sweat dripping from her forehead subsides. She’s grateful for his company. He seems to always sense when she’s down and is there to lick her salty tears from her cheeks.

Grabbing her phone that skidded across the floor, she dials Caroline's number. It rings and rings, so she hangs up and tries again a few moments later.

“Briar? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Caroline’s strained, sleepy voice rings through the phone.

When Briar doesn’t respond right away, Caroline knows what happened.

“Babe,” she says softly. “Did you do something?”

“Caro,” Briar says, a mix of a sob and a whine. “I talked to him on the phone and I blew up at him. I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Okay, okay. Breathe. What happened?”

“I,” Briar starts. “I told him this isn’t working. That I don’t see where I fit in all of this. He has a kid, Caro. He has to figure out how to be a dad before I can figure out how to be a step-mom. A wife,” she wails. “But I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut until he gets back.”

“I-yeah,” Caroline exhales. “But we’re well past that, so, let’s make a plan. Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no, it’s too late. I’ll come to you.”

“Okay, be careful. I’ll see you soon.”

Briar hangs up the phone and immediately calls for an Uber. She opts to stay in her pajamas, slipping on her Ugg boots and throwing one of Harry’s hats on. It’s his hat from when he went to the Master’s tournament. He was walking on air that entire week, documenting his trip and calling her from the iconic pay-phones on the course since no cell phones are allowed.

A tear sneaks out of the corner of her eye, and she doesn’t bother wiping it. By some grace of god, she secures a driver. She watches the headlights appear through the fog, and hops into the white SUV.

“For Harry?” the driver asks.

Her ride is on his account again.

She nods before slamming her head on the rest behind her, grateful the driver doesn’t seem talkative. She looks down on her phone, fully expecting another text from Harry.

🦊: Baby, where are you going?? Please call me. It’s so late.

1 missed call from 🦊

1 missed FaceTime from 🦊

🦊: We don’t have to even talk or figure anything out, I just need to know what you’re doing. It’s so late and I’m worried.

1 missed call from 🦊

Her phone is burning in her hand from Harry blowing it up. Now she feels guilty from taking his time away from Oliver. Switching apps, she zooms into the map to find her ETA. 8 minutes.

🦊: Please. Just tell me if you’re safe.

🐥: I’m going to Caroline’s.

🦊: Okay. I love you. So much. Don’t give up on me.

🦊: Please.

Briar shoves the phone into the waistband of her pajama pants. Spotting the familiar entrance to Caroline’s neighborhood, she unlocks her seatbelt so she can bolt as soon as the car stops.

He slowly pulls up to the driveway, so Briar flies out of the car, mumbling thank you to the driver.

Caroline is standing at her garage door, awaiting her arrival. Her face is sad as she gnaws on her lower lip. Briar collapses into her arms when they finally meet. Caroline pets at her hair, waiting until she calms down before speaking again.

“C’mon, let’s get inside.”

Harry is ghostly pale sitting on the sideline of his son’s football game. The squeals and laughter from the children should be giving him that warm and fuzzy feeling, but he can’t help but feel like he’s going to vomit. He’s been discretely texting and calling Briar while trying to watch the kids play.

Camille senses his energy and quietly leans into him.

“What’s going on?”

Harry is startled, not expecting her to ask that.

“Um, I, uh,” he sputters. “My girlfriend. Just a rough patch is all.”

Camille nods, her jaw shifting a little, “I thought so. Been together long?”

“Mm, since May, I guess. Met her at Wynnewood, actually,” he says quietly, picking at his nails.

She looks at him quizzically, “Still going there? I thought for sure you’d swear it off forever.”

Harry laughs ironically, “Some of us have to deal with issues instead of running away from them.”

Her eyebrows raise at the jab, but she nods her head.

“If you need to leave and take care of it, you can come over for dinner later. Theo is making lamb,” she offers.

Harry nods appreciatively, standing up. He gets Oliver’s attention as he runs to the group for a drink of water. He waves at him, an enthusiastic smile overtaking his face.

“Bye, Oliver. I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“D’accord, Papa!”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat, a lump quickly forming. He looks back at Camille, a small smile donning her face that matches his, before turning to leave the pitch.

He jogs toward the metro. Looking down at his phone to pull up the map, he sees another Uber charge to his card. Puzzled, he does the math to determine the time in America.

It’s well past 3AM and Briar is going somewhere? His stomach drops, so he sends her a series of texts, tries calling and FaceTiming. Running a hand through his hair, he decides to whistle for a Taxi instead.

The driver gets him to his hotel in record time, so he throws 20 euro through the plexiglass. He ascends up the 4 flights of stairs, his asthma raging every step he takes. Being an entire ocean away, he’s not even sure what he can do right now beside continue to call her.

He sits down on the bed, his knee anxiously bouncing as he waits for her to pick up. Not expecting her to answer, he’s shocked when he hears a strained voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Briar, baby, what’s going on?”

“I came to,” she hiccups. “I’m at Caroline’s.”

Harry frowns, unsure what this means. He’s not going to have this conversation with Caroline present.

“Okay. D-do you want to talk? I just want to understand what’s going on, lovie.”

“It’s late here,” she replies. She shuffles into Caroline’s bathroom. Her foot is asleep from where they sat on the floor trying to reel in Briar’s thoughts and emotions.

“I know, but, baby, I can’t let you hang up this phone. Please tell daddy what’s going on.”

“Fucking stop, Harry!” she starts to cry again.

Harry couldn’t be more confused.

“What do you mean?” he says softly, his heart sinking.

“This is too much. You need to learn how to be a dad, Harry. Separate from me. I can’t be a part of this when there’s so much to figure out,” she sniffles quietly.

“Briar, our day to day isn’t going to change,” he reasons. “I haven’t talked to Camille yet, but I can most likely take frequent trips and even have Oliver stay with us in the U.S for a little at a time.”

“Harry. You need to put your son first.”

His jaw drops, having no idea what she’s talking about. What the fuck is he doing in Paris if he’s not putting his son first?

“I love you so much. But, I had the parent who didn’t put their kids first. And it sucked. It still hurts me to this day,” Briar chokes out. “I’m stepping away so you can be the best dad to Oliver. So he doesn’t have a memory of his dad choosing some woman who was sort of there in his life.”

Harry feels like he’s been sucker punched. He pictured Harry, Briar, Oliver and Gus spending summers together; the dog chasing the boy around the yard, and Harry and Briar cuddled by the fire watching.

He still hasn’t answered. He knows what she means; who wants to take on raising someone’s child at 24? Her family issues continue to rear their heads in different areas of her life.

“Bri—,” Harry starts, but fails. “I hear you, sweetheart. But, I don’t know how to convince you that this is a mistake. Thought we were forever? Are you not my forever?”

Briar clenches her jaw and shakes her head violently. Her head will go right through the dry wall if this continues.

“I want to be. I want to be so fucking bad,” she heaves. “But I can’t right now.”

Tears start flowing down his face. He places his right hand over his heart to make sure he’s still alive. He’d marry her the minute he touches the tarmac if it meant that she’d stay on the phone with him right now.

“Please,” he’s desperate now. “Briar, please. We’ll grow through this together. Do you trust me?”

She’s silent. She does trust him; it’s herself she doesn't trust. She had to be the glue for her brothers. She can’t be the glue in Harry and Oliver’s relationship.

“Take the time and focus on him, Harry.”

“Can I see you? When I’m back?”

“No,” she says sadly. “I’m gonna pick up my stuff at the house.”

“And that’s it?” he replies, almost angrily.

“Yes, that's it. What’s meant to happen will happen.”

Fuck fate! Harry puts his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

“I’m hanging up now, Harry,” she says softly.

“Briar—,” Harry says as the line disconnects. He grips the phone so tightly he could almost snap it.

Harry places his elbows on his knees to regulate his breathing. Labored, depleted pants are escaping his chest, so he shuffles his Spotify to relax. The app immediately plays Secret Language by the Shivers, a song Briar and Harry have spent countless nights dancing to while making dinner, or making out to by the fire pit. Bile bubbles to the top of his throat as it plays.

Until we meet again.

Under some street light in some foreign town.

And then you'll take my hand,

And look at me as if to say, "Are you still down?"

Briar depletes her body of all water and oxygen by the time she’s done crying. Caroline gave up on getting any sleep, so she put on John Tucker Must Die to lighten the mood.

Her eyes are bloodshot, cheeks sticky and stained with tears, jaw aching from the constant pressure. Caroline didn’t hear any of Briar and Harry’s conversation, but she pieced the situation together between Briar’s wails and hiccups.

Caroline sees both sides; a young girl so hopelessly in love, but held back by her deep-rooted family issues; not ready to raise a child. And a guy who was dealt an unfair hand and is trying to pick up the pieces. She feels for them, she really does.

It’s admirable, Briar’s approach. Removing herself from the equation allows for Harry to focus on being a father for the first time, having missed out on the first seven years of Oliver’s life.

The girls agree on giving Harry time and space to be a dad. Briar can focus on grad school and even date around if she wants. To witness two people who are good to one another and protect each others’ peace be driven apart by circumstances beyond their own makes her heart hurt.

Caroline pulls Briar in for a hug, gently petting her hair until they both finally fall asleep.

The hours drag on the more Harry stares at the blank wall in his hotel room. The sun has come and gone, and he feels like a hollow shell of a person. He’s due at Camille and Theo’s for dinner in just under an hour, but he can’t bring himself to move. His eyes are sore from crying and his stomach is still in knots.

He drudges to the bathroom to strip and jump in the shower. The scorching water runs down his back as he extends his neck to stare at the ceiling. He takes a series of deep breaths, the duration increasing of each one. It’s not until he’s gasping for air that he shuts the water off.

Tying a towel around his waist, Harry grabs his phone to make a rash decision. He dials the number, walking over to the window.

“Hey, boss!” Madison says happily. “What are you doing calling me on your leave of absence?”

“Gotta keep you on your toes. Niall been treating you well?”

The two exchange pleasantries for a few minutes, until Harry changes the subject.

“Listen, ah,” Harry starts. “Can you do me a favor? Two, actually. One, can you change my flight home and send me to Manchester next week instead? Might pop home for a minute. I’ll leave Paris a few days early.”

At this point, his heart is racing.

“Second. Can you head over to my place and change the codes for all of my exterior doors? Today? Like, as soon as possible. You can make the front door my mum’s birthday.”

“Uh, sure. Should I ask why?”

“Uhm,” he stumbles. “‘D rather not get into it.”

“Okay. Anything else you need?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Mads. I appreciate all of your help organizing everything.”

“Anytime. Talk to you soon.”

The call ends, and Harry feels like a piece of shit. Did he really just send his assistant to keep Briar’s belongings hostage at his house? Yeah.

He needs to buy himself time and hold on to contact with her. Is it manipulative? Yes. Does he give a shit right now? No. He’s an ocean away and his entire future is slipping from his grasp.

After Ubering home at 8AM, Briar tends to Gus and takes another run to clear her head. She runs to the same coffee shop from the week before.

“Hey, Briar,” Spencer smiles, approaching the counter to take her order. “You done that take home mid-term?”

She pops her AirPod out of her ear before shaking her head, “No, I’ve been so busy I haven’t even looked at it yet.”

“Ah, well, if you need any help, let me know. I’d be happy to review it with you,” he winks.

A nervous shiver shoots up her spine, “Uhm, yeah, thanks. I-I’ll let you know, for sure. Can I have an iced green tea? With a little sweetener and a lemon?”

“You got it,” He smiles again, turning on his heels to make the drink. He hands it to her a few minutes later before going to help another customer. This time, he took her money. She waves before popping her AirPod in and resuming her walk.

She decides to bite the bullet and go to Harry’s for her stuff before she loses the courage. The water from her shower is scorching hot, but she prays it’ll wash away the ramifications from the night before. Her neck aches from throwing a tantrum throughout Caroline’s room.

Briar scurries out the door in her favorite sweats and her hair tied in a knot on her head.

Pulling up to his house brings another round of tears to her eyes, so she lightly throws her head against the back of her seat. A deep breath escapes her nostrils, and she’s immediately reminded of Harry. She misses when he’d make her do box breathing; inhale for four seconds, hold for four, exhale for four and hold for four. She gasps for air before her eyes are met with an unfamiliar car in the driveway.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she jumps out of her Jeep before approaching the front door. Waking up the key pad, she punches in the code.

1206 - June 12th - His childhood cat, Dusty’s, birthday. She rolls her eyes. The month comes first in America, dingus.

Without acknowledging the red light that flashes twice, her body slams into the door. Confused, she jiggles the handle. Nothing. Entering the passcode again, she’s met with another flashing red light.

Backing away from the door, she looks back at the unfamiliar car. Does he suddenly have a house sitter since she opted to stay at her apartment instead of here?

Shaking it off, Briar walks to the side door that leads to a mudroom. This time, the code is 2307 - July 23rd - The day he moved to America.

Again, she’s met with the angry red light.

“What the fuck?”

As a last-ditch effort, she tries the back porch door. Again, she enters the code.

0102 - February 1st - Harry’s birthday.

The door is locked. That motherfucker!

She pounds at the door, screaming, “Hey! Open the door!”

A familiar face pops in view through the glass with a concerned look on her face. Madison.

“Briar? Hey!”

“Uh, hey, Madison. What’re you doing here?”

“Harry asked me to do a few favors for him. He asked me to change his locks for some reason. Did he not text you the new codes?”

Anger boils in Briar’s chest. Her puzzled look makes Madison speak up again.

“I’m guessing no. I can write them down for you,” she smiles, reaching into her purse for her notepad and pen.

“No, he didn’t. We broke up, actually, so,” Briar says quietly.

Madison gasps, her face contorting into a look of pity.

“Briar! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. That’s such a shame,” she lends a soft touch on Briar’s shoulder. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be gentle with him.”

Briar nods, inhaling heavily through her splayed nostrils.

“Here, I’ll let you in now. Is your stuff inside? Is that what you came to get?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Briar bites her lip, looking down.

Madison punches the new code in and invites her inside. She lets Briar go ahead, before saying goodbye and shutting the door.

Briar stands in the entryway staring at the eerily still house. It doesn’t sound the same without Harry puttering about, playing music or loudly watching the Packers.

She laughs at her thought before remembering how angry she is at him. Pulling out her phone, she furiously dials his number.

It rings several times before it’s picked up. The person on the other end is silent.

“You’re a real fucking prick, you know that?” Briar seethes into the phone. “Don’t even give it 2 hours before you’re changing your fucking locks and keeping me from getting my shit?”

Harry winces, pulling his phone away from his ear. Camille and Theo can hear the tone of Briar’s voice through the speaker, causing them to look at Harry questioningly. Harry just finished reading a story to Oliver and tucking him in.

When he imagined being a dad when he was younger, bed time was a big part of his day dreams. Some of his fondest memories are times he was cuddled up to his mom and sister, listening to them read Shel Silverstein poems to him as he drifted to sleep.

He excuses himself from where Camille and Theo are sitting on their sofa.

“Briar, listen —,” Harry tries, ducking through the window door to their balcony. They all enjoyed a nice dinner, starting to talk about a co-parenting plan moving forward.

“No, I won’t fucking listen! Madison was just here and told me you made her change the locks. Do you know how much of a fucking idiot I just looked like?”

“I didn’t think you’d go over right away. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you,” He lies. He knew she would.

“So, you’re just going to manipulate me into staying in touch with you? What’s next? Are you going to abduct Gus from his doggie daycare?”

He has to hold himself back from smirking. Now she’s just putting ideas in his head.

“Birdie, I’m not evil,” He reasons. “I just wanted to up my security while I’m gone.”

“You are SO fucking full of shit. You knew I’d go MIA and you’re trying to Stockholm syndrome me.”

“That’s not how that wo—,” he replies but is interrupted from her frustrated groan and scream.

“FUCK YOU, H. Don’t fucking contact me again,” Briar spits at him. “Ever.”

“Birdie, please, let’s just talk!” Harry yells before she hangs up on him again.

Her vision is blurred by the fat tears forming in her eyes, fingers shaking as her thumb hovers over the block button on Harry’s contact. She closes her eyes as she presses the button, her stomach dropping to her feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants sadly as she sits in his hallway, her head in her hands.

Harry’s face scrunches up as he leans against the railing of the balcony. He watches the happy people on the street below pass by, his heart thumping out of his chest.

He ducks through the window again to find Camille in the kitchen, flipping through a magazine. Her eyes meet his, waiting for him to speak.

Harry runs a hand through his hair before finally saying, “I changed my flight. Have some things to take care of,” he says solemnly.

“D’accord. Let’s get a plan in place before you go, then.”

He nods before joining her at the table.

Harry and Camille discuss a loose plan. Oliver will live with Camille and Theo, and visit Harry twice a year for a month. Harry will visit Oliver for a few weeks at a time throughout the year. She feels comfortable with Harry’s ability to take care of him, but for their first trip, she’d like to be close by.

Harry is relieved. They hug, and a hopeful feeling washes over him. For his last day, they make plans for Harry to take Oliver to the museums for the day before they say their goodbyes.

He leaves their apartment, his hands in his pockets. His heart hurts for many different reasons; searing pain over Briar, but swelling with love and adoration for Oliver. On the metro home, he spends time putting important school dates for Oliver in his calendar. He’s even started to block time off in his work calendar to be able to check in with him several times a week.

Shuffling back to his hotel, he stops by a pharmacy to grab a pack of cigarettes. Just one, he thinks. For the culture. He leans against the entrance of his hotel, lighting the stick with a match. He winces at the heat on his finger tips, waving his fingers in the air.

He inhales, letting the smoke swirl around his lungs, the heat burning his throat slightly. Coughing, a few more tears escape his eyes. He won’t last long with his asthma, but he feels the dopamine hit his brain.

He flicks the butt to the ground before heading inside. The doorman looks at him sympathetically before pressing his floor on the elevator. He pulls out his wallet to open the door with his key card.

The room is messy how he’d left it — clothes thrown about and the pillows indented from his fits of anger. He even spots the open bottle of tequila from the few swigs he took before Oliver’s game. Father of the year.

Before giving up and going to bed, he sends one text to Briar.

🦊: I’ll be here when you’re ready. It’ll always be you.

The message delivers in a green bubble.

It’s been 24 hours since Briar blocked Harry. She calls in reinforcements to help her gather her stuff. 3 of her 4 brothers arrived to Harry’s — begrudgingly, but willing to help her carry things. She frantically searched the house for their more damning items; plugs, whips, chains, ropes, gags, what have you, and hid them deep in Harry’s closet.

Her adrenaline from not sleeping and getting completely drained emotionally is taking over, so she’s suddenly energized to get this done. They grab Gus’s items and a few workout supplies she leaves in his gym. Suddenly, the space becomes more sterile and boring as her items are removed.

She buys them all pizza as a peace offering, so they spend one final evening at Harry’s. The boys avoid the elephant in the room, and opt to listen to Callum’s crazy stories from his friend’s bachelor party.

When they leave, they each hug her for a little longer. She’s grateful for their company since she’ll probably fall apart before bed again.

She stares at the house before sadly pulling away, not daring to look behind her in the mirror.

All the while, watchful eyes couldn’t stop watching this unfold through the security cameras.

He doesn’t know why he watched. If it weren’t for the annoying ping sound, he’d forget he can even view his security cameras from his phone.

Harry’s eyes were glued to the screen as he watched his girl stand on his driveway, staring sadly at his house. His number is blocked — he’s sure of it. So, he opts to be the eye in the sky instead of finding a way to contact her in some obscure way, like messaging her through her cable provider. That’s too toxic, even for him.

He had an amazing day with Oliver at the museums and going all over Paris to do his favorite things. It’s fun to tour a city in the eyes of a child. Then, they had a teary goodbye as he boarded the plane to England.

“Au revoir, Papa. Je t’aime,” Oliver sniffles.

“I love you too, buddy. I had so much fun with you,” Harry rubs his back. He kisses Oliver on the forehead before reaching to hug Camille.

“Thank you, Harry. This is a good thing,” she smiles at him. “Good luck with everything. We’ll talk soon about travel plans.”

Harry nods, waving one more time at Oliver. He walks to the gate, quickly losing sight of his boy. Now, he’s sat watching a live stream of his girl packing her shit and leaving. She even brought in her brothers to get out of there quicker.

He angrily shoves his phone in his pocket before covering his eyes with his arm. The airport is buzzing around him, and he’s just thankful this flight home is quick. He’s excited to see his family; it’s been about a year and a half since he was in England, due to travel restrictions from the pandemic.

Unable to be alone with his thoughts, he pulls his phone back out to open his photo app. He flips through photos of himself and Oliver, Oliver and Pierre the cat, and even one of Camille and him that Oliver took. He smiles at each of them, feeling the happiness radiate off his boy’s dimpled smile.

As he scrolls, he moves further back in time. Pictures of Gus, Harry and Briar cuddled in bed, her bare body in various positions start popping up. He lowers his brightness so TSA isn’t called on him. His heart lurches at his chest when he finds a photo of their pinkies intertwined.

He snaps his eyes shut as tears blur his eyes again, so he jumps when he hears his flight number called. He’s flying coach, since it’s only an hour long flight. He stands once group 4 is called.

A woman with a small baby is ahead of him, so he offers to lift her suitcase into the overhead compartment of their row. She smiles at him gratefully as she situates into her seat.

Harry is nestled in his window seat when he shoots his mum a quick text that he’s boarded. He’s done it for every flight he’s ever gotten on.

He bunches up his DAMN. hoodie and rests it between his head and the window. His over-ear headphones are on, but he’s not listening to any music. All his liked songs on Spotify are from Briar controlling the music in the car. He’d risk playing a song they both love and end up bawling his eyes out.

The plane starts to taxi, so Harry finally presses shuffle. It’s that goddamn song again

It’s a one chance in a lifetime, sort of thing.

It’s the kind of love sent from above.

Harry takes a deep breath before frantically pausing the song and shoving everything in his bag. The woman from earlier spots his minor outburst, so she gives him a concerned, tight-lipped look. He looks away, slightly embarrassed.

They still have 30 minutes left on the flight, so Harry pulls out his moleskin notebook. He hasn’t journaled since he got kicked out of graduated from therapy. He’s scared to flip to previous pages; unsure what he’ll find.

Next thing he knows, the words are pouring onto the paper.

He’s not going to give it to her, or anything. He’s just trying to channel all of his anger and heartbreak in one direction so he doesn’t lose his mind. A small chuckle escapes Harry when he realizes this is now the second time he’s running home after heartbreak, the last one happening almost 9 years ago.

It probably makes him seem soft, but he can’t bring himself to care. He wants to be surrounded by people he loves, and maybe even a little doted on. His mom and step-dad are nearing 70, so he really should be the one caring for them.

He’s excited to see his niece and tell her all about her new cousin. She begs for a sibling all the time, so maybe this will fill the gap for her.

He doodles on the page, making sure to initial the bottom. He mindlessly draws a bluebird and a jar of honey. Just a few minutes later, the cabin lights flash, signaling their descent into Manchester. His sister and niece are picking him up, so he’s sure to have a laugh the minute he sees them.

When Harry exits the plane, he stretches his long limbs, loosening his joints and hips. He’s exhausted both physically and emotionally, so he can’t wait to pass out in the guest room.

From the top of the escalator he spots Gemma and Hattie, along with a sign he can’t quite make out. As he gets closer, he sees what the sign his beaming niece is holding.

Welcome home, Uncle Harry!

His heart bursts in his chest, so he starts to step down on the escalator to get to them faster.

“Uncle Harry!”

“Hattie!” he yells as he lifts her in the air. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too!”

“Hey, stranger,” Gemma says, pulling him in for a hug.

“Hey Gem,” Harry kisses her cheek. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem. Why the last minute need to come home?”

“We’ll talk about it,” he diverts her attention as he hands Hattie his small bag for her to carry.

“Nooo! It’s too heavy,” Hattie whines.

“Where’re your muscles?” He laughs grabbing the bag back.

The three of them head to the car listening to Hattie spew every moment leading up to getting him at the airport.

Harry sits up front, resting his eyes. Gemma hasn’t said much, but she’s dying to know why Harry is home. They drive back to the house, Hattie humming some song by Jojo Siwa, whom Harry has no clue who that is to begin with.

Gemma drops Harry off at their mum’s before heading back to their own house. He promises to see them the next day at breakfast. He blows a kiss to Hattie before unloading his bags from the trunk.

His mum comes to the door as soon as she heard the trunk close. She waves to Gemma and Hattie before meeting him on the path.

“Hi, mum.”

“Hi, baby. So happy to see you,” she gushes as she pulls him in for a long hug. “I just put some tea on, if you want to go put your bags away.”

“Okay,” he says softly. He already feels like he could fall apart.

His room has been transformed into many things over the years; a yoga room, a pottery studio, and even a sauna. But, now it’s back to being a spare bedroom. He opens the wardrobe to find items from his past. Football trophies, drawings from school, and a dozen stuffed animals. His chest constricts as he looks at a small stuffed dog that Briar would probably love.

He shakes the thought and closes the door. Not bothering to unpack, he heads back out to the sitting room. His mum smiles at him, patting the seat beside her. Harry says nothing as he fixes his tea; one sugar and a dash of cream.

He clears his throat, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

Anne flashes him a tight lipped smile, “I’ll never turn down a visit with my youngest pup. It’s been far too long, anyway.”

Harry nods, taking a small sip, only to sputter from the searing temperature of the tea.

“Just, um, going through a rough patch,” he grips the back of his neck and scratches the nape. “Was seeing a girl, and she encouraged me to make amends with Camille.”

Anne’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “So, does that mean you’ve met…”

“Yep. Yeah, I did. He’s great, mum. And Camille seems to really have changed. She and Theo are married with another baby.”

Anne has a visceral reaction to this, but says nothing.

“The girl —Briar— is 24, and, obviously, I think getting involved in something like this is daunting. But, I really thought she was the one,” he coughs. “Is the one.”

She leans in closer and rests her chin on her palm, “So, what’s going on then? Did she get cold feet?”

“I think so. Called the other day and everything just blew up. She wants me to take time to learn how to be a good father to Oliver.”

She hums, stirring her tea around.

“I get it. She’s a bit young to possibly become a step-mum. But, it’s not like he’d live with you full-time.”

“That’s what I said, but she’s not having it. Pretty sure I’m blocked on everything.”

Harry omits telling his mother about keeping Briar’s belongings hostage in order to buy himself time.

“It’s a tough situation, baby. I see both sides. Maybe just take this time apart and get into a good routine with Oliver and Camille, and then go from there.”

Harry rubs his eyes, tears threatening to fall at any minute. He can’t help but feel like it’s just not in the cards to be happy. Any sliver of happiness has been fleeting, raising his anxiety levels as the years go on.

“I’m just so tired of being unhappy,” a small sob escapes him. He’s trying to breathe to stop it from happening, but he just erupts into harder, shakier tears.

Anne pulls him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He feels stupid. He’s reminded of the times he cried this hard; when his cat, Dusty, died, or when he was caught smoking weed for the first time, and, of course, the weeks after Camille left.

He remains like that for almost a half hour; Anne’s grip never loosening. Once his breathing slows and the shivering stops, he moves to rest his forehead on his folded arms on the table.

“You can stay here as long as you need to, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Bear,” Patrick’s cheery voice rings over the phone.

Briar is laid up in her bed, curtains drawn, not a peek of sunlight coming through. It’s been 6 days since she blocked Harry. It’s like one of her limbs is missing.

That’s the thing about routine; when it’s disrupted, it can be impossible to go back to normal. She’s been operating on autopilot, and is due for a breakdown soon.

“Hi,” Briar squeaks.

“It’s been a while. Haven’t heard from you or seen you at Wynnewood. Why are you hiding?”

Briar scowls to herself. He knows her too well.

She coughs in order to buy herself some time, or an excuse. “Just been feeling burnt out lately. Busy with school. Everything’s fine, Uncle Patrick.”

He hums, but she can tell he isn’t buying it. After years of going head to head with him, he knows how to play offense.

“We’re having some people over on Saturday. All the boys will be there, too. Bring Harry if he’s around.”

Briar inhales sharply at the sound of his name.

“Mhm, okay. I’ll let you know,” she mumbles. Seconds later, her eyes shoot open. “Wait. Aren’t they all out visiting mom?”

“They got back on Monday. You haven’t talked to any of them?”

Guilt bubbles to the surface. “No, I just helped Cormac book his flight. But, that was a few weeks ago.”

“Bri,” Patrick replies pointedly. “What’s going on?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her voice cracking a little, “Nothing. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Honey, I know you’re not telling me the truth. What is it? Is it your mom?”

Briar can barely breathe. “Yes, I’m still upset about her leaving,” she lies.

“You gotta tell me about that stuff, Briar. We’re all here to help you. Have you told Harry the whole story?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles. “He knows what he needs to know.”

“Okay. Please don’t bottle things up. It’s not good for you.”

Suddenly, Briar is 15 again, drinking for the first time and sneaking out to meet boys. Her aunt and uncle almost sent her away, but instead opted for more intense therapy, which helped.

“I know. Thank you. I love you,” she says quietly.

“Love you too, Bear. See you Saturday. Harry owes me a six pack from our bet the last time we played.”

She chokes out a fake chuckle and hangs up, throwing her phone across the room to her “everything chair” that gets covered in clothes and junk every week.

Even though it’s nearing 8 PM on a Wednesday, she’s feeling reckless. She immediately grabs her phone again, and begins typing. Her heart is beating faster than it has in weeks.

B: Hey, Spencer. It’s Briar. Want to meet up and review the take-home exam?

Harry is staying in Manchester for a few weeks. His leave of absence is over, so he had Madison ship him his laptop and order new monitors. He’s staying at Gemma’s in their guest house. It’s a little more secluded, and he can get some work done in peace.

He’s gotten into a good routine over the past few weeks; His mornings are spent working out, playing with Hattie, and visiting his old stomping grounds before returning home to work east coast hours.

Niall is starting to get suspicious. As far as he knew, Harry’s time with Oliver went well. Harry is oddly cold in their meetings, and can barely meet Niall’s eye in their weekly one on one meetings. He hasn’t mentioned Briar’s name once.

Harry is surprisingly in good spirits. His mum, his sister, his niece and his old mates have been taking his mind off things. This time around, heartbreak is effecting him in a completely different way.

Maybe because he knows it’s not over. He just has to play his hand right. He’s trying to avoid groveling, or smothering her.

So, like a lion laying low in the grass, he’ll wait her out.

Talking to Spencer is easy. Effortless. Not that talking to Harry wasn’t, but it’s different. He understands her meme references, they make connections about the games they played as kids and the tv shows they watched.

He’s extremely kind, and doesn’t give her any sort of ick right off the bat. Their study session started out as a tutoring session, which soon turned to Briar finessing his answers from him. Not that she couldn’t do it on her own; she’s just seeking attention.

She’s well aware of what she’s doing. It’s been just over a month since she and Harry broke up. Well, since she ended it. It’s infuriating that he hasn’t tried to contact her. Was he even in love with her in the first place?

Spencer and Briar meet up regularly, and he’s even started to get day passes to Wynnewood so he can see her. Briar is back to work like normal, not answering any prying questions from Cam or any of the friends she’s come to make there. They look at her with raised eyebrows, but don’t dare to say anything.

Spencer and Briar have kissed, which sent her into a tizzy when she got home the night it happened. Spencer messaged her the next night to ask her out to dinner at a nice Italian place he loves. He called an Uber for her, so the destination was unknown, until she pulls up to a familiar place. La Campagna. Harry’s favorite restaurant.

Panic seeps through every pore in her body. Not wanting to alarm the driver, she takes a deep breath before forcing her body to move.

Her hands are shaking, but she pulls open the door to reveal the quaint interior. There are only a few seatings each night, so the whole place is intimate. She spots Spencer in the back corner, so she softly smiles at the hostess before walking over.

He stands to pull out her chair, and compliments her dress. Upon sitting, Briar downs the glass of water at her seat. Spencer is startled, but doesn’t comment on it. They start to chit chat, debrief from their day and discuss their assignments for the week. It’s nice conversation, but it doesn’t light each of her nerve endings on fire like it does with Harry.

After a while and a lot more wine than she planned on drinking, she excused herself to the bathroom. Scurrying past the tables, she finds the small single bathroom in the back hallway. She’s about to push open the door when she spots a picture hanging on the wall.

A picture of Harry. And the chef, Massimo, who Harry befriended years ago. This photo is clearly not recent; his face a little softer, and his hips holding onto the puppy fat. He looks to be about 25.

His suit is striking; bright pink with only a white tank top underneath. The two are smiling brightly, Massimo leaning over his shoulder. Despite how many times she’s been here, she’s never once noticed this picture.

Her panic comes back as she forces her way through the door. She can hardly flip the lock and turn on the light before a sob escapes her. She bends her knees, folding her body in on itself. Covering her face with her hands, she tries not to smudge her eye make up.

Briar is not a discreet crier by any means. Her eyes get puffy, she bites her lip until it bleeds, and a rash forms on her chest when she’s in any kind of distress. It’ll be clear as day when she returns to the table.

Hesitantly, she rises to stand in front of the sink. She takes a stack of paper towels, dampening them so she can cool her body temperature. A sigh of relief washes over her when the cold water touches her skin.

Why did it have to be this fucking restaurant?! Balling up her fists, she gives herself a pep talk in the mirror, and takes several deep breaths to regulate her breathing. Using the same towels, she cleans up her under eye area, bringing her make up back to decent shape.

Briar unlocks the door, and confidently strides out of the bathroom, completely ignoring the photo on the wall. Spencer smiles when she comes into view.

“Hope you don’t mind, I ordered us another appetizer,” he smiles.

“Perfect,” Briar flips her hair over her shoulder, smiling at him softly. “Want to come back to mine after we finish here?”

________________________________________________________

@daphnesutton @pandeebearstyles @anxiouswaterss @gem1712 @stylesfever @awesomenavy @crazygirlinthisworld @butdaddyilovehim-hs @luxiorchive @alchemxx @narry-heart

DON'T KILL ME PLZZZZZ HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL WRITING TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE .

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles imagine #Harry styles smut #dom!harry #daddy!harry #agegapfic #Harry Styles golf #golfrry #one direction imagine #daddy!h #fth h #fairway to heaven #harry styles x oc

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honeybleed · 6 months

Note

hey babes!! first of all, I hope you’re having a good day 🫶🏾🤍 and thank you for always popping in my inbox with the BEST asks. I appreciate them sm. ik u mad at your husband right now but imma need me a lil sum for jeannie. Something real spicy and kinda drama filled cause I’m in a messy mood 🌚 I’ll leave the context up to you 🫶🏾

CHERRY YOU KILL MEEE 😭 COS TELL ME WHY I WAS JUST WAITING ON THIS FJSKSJSJ but anyways u already know, hope u having a good day too my sweets muah 🩵

content & warnings: female reader, black-coded reader, halloween (yes i know it’s november), jean & reader are seniors in college, exes, angst, alcohol consumption, jean an asshole at first sorry, toxic relationship since jean head of the sassy man apocalypse and tryna fight, lol dis lowkey selfship coded, no smut but suuuuper suggestive so mdni

word count: 2.8k

Jean sucks at the feelings talk.

That’s why when you were gonna head home for the summer break, you got a text saying you should see other people.

Violent thoughts overtook your brain as you dropped your box as you were packing to head back to your family’s place for the holidays.

And the snow globe he brought you shattered, glitter spilling across the wooden planks.

You were never the sort of person to chase after a man.

But being dogged out by somebody who was your first everything was probably the biggest blow you’d experienced in a while.

The entire summer was spent in your room, curtains shut as Radiohead droned on. Your parents and siblings were getting sick of you.

But bit by bit, you got there. Slowly rebuilding yourself. You weren’t completely whole again after Jean broke your heart.

You could say you glued yourself back together and put on a brave face when senior year began.

People talked — they always do. Seems like Jean had been having a whale of a time since he shot that stupid text. He’d got around, to say the least.

And you brushed it off.

That is until you were in the same vicinity as your asshole ex who couldn’t even give you the grace of breaking up with you face to face.

He was burning lasers into the back of your head as you weaved your way through the masses of crowds in the rowdy frat party.

They’re lame but you promised your friends you’d try since you were ghost all summer.

You were getting all kinds of stares and whistles. The bodysuit at the rushed attempt at Mileena was garnering attention, to say the least.

Greeting your friends, downing the gross alcohol juice concoction in the solo cup, you were actually enjoying yourself.

That is until he who shall not be named descended onto you like a bat out of hell, dragging you to the closet.

“Jean!” You hissed, ripping away from his grip on your wrist. “What the hell is your problem?!”

“Oh, I'm the one with the problem...?”

“Yeah! Stop giving me evils at every dude I dance with!”

“So you'd prefer to be kissing a few other schmucks?” He spat. He had a habit of clenching his jaw whenever he was mad and the nerve in his temple would throb.

“Maybe! I bet they wouldn’t dump me via text like YOU!” You barked at him. You were angry but you could already feel a lump in your throat.

That shut him up. You could practically see the humiliation washing over him.

“Well, I just couldn't deal with being stuck with your whiny bs every day, but I was too weak to just say it. So I broke up with you over text.” He fumed. “It was the biggest pussy move of my life. I should've just been honest right from the get-go, but I guess I was a coward. There. You happy now?”

He looked mortified. You blinked a few times, feeling your eyes sting.

“Oh God, please don’t cry, I never meant…” Jean stuttered as he put his hands on your shoulders. “No, don’t do this to me, baby…”

He paused. Freudian slip of the pet name.

“I…drove you away?”

This is so stupid. Cramped in a closet, crying. He hadn’t even told you why. He just told you he thought you should see other people.

“Listen, it was never about you, it was about us being wrong for each other. I just couldn't see it, but I guess I should've known. I was too selfish to notice how I was making you feel. I'm sorry, I've just been a complete jerk to you. I should have just told you sooner how I was feeling, but in the end it's no excuse for how I've treated you. You just didn't deserve any of it. You didn't do anything wrong, you didn't do anything wrong, okay?”

“Okay. But…we’re not together anymore. Why do care if I dance with other guys?!”

“It’s probably just some stupid male ego thing. I guess I just feel like if I'm not the centre of your life, then I've failed. It's my own insecurities coming back to haunt me.” He said lowly as he struggled to meet your eyes.

The explanation. It clicked. It made sense. Jean was a hothead who was always terrified of losing you. Despite your constant reassurance, he never believed you.

But as you slumped against the wall and clutched your head, all the heartbreak from the summer hitting you like a truck, the right answer just seemed so damn absurd.

He kneeled in front of you, cupping your cheeks.

“Don’t touch me.” You muttered despite you falling into his touch regardless.

“I'm sorry. God, I'm an idiot.” He sighed.

“No…I mean, yeah you’re an asshole for dumping me via text but I’m sorry I was driving you mad.” You groaned.

You knew you were a lot to deal with. You and Jean both jumped too fast into this relationship.

“You shouldn't be apologizing. You deserve someone better than me. Hell, I don't even know how you put up with me for so long.”

“Is that why? Is that why you dumped me, Jean?”

He smoothed the top of your head and kissed your forehead gently.

“Maybe. But there's more to it than that. I was too scared of being in a relationship, of committing. Being with you meant having an obligation, having to give you my time and attention. I just couldn't handle it. But if I'm being honest with myself, I know that was just an excuse. The truth is, I knew you were out of my league the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew I wasn't good enough for you.”

You felt anger overtake your senses as you balled up your fist and thumped his chest, hard.

“Ow! Hey! I'm telling you the truth, don't take it out on me! I never wanted to hurt you, ever! You deserved so much better than me.”

“That was not your call to make and you know it!” You cried out, furious at him.

“I know, I just couldn't see why. I was scared you'd leave me. So, I did what a selfish idiot would do, I left you first. I figured that I'd rip the band-aid so that I wouldn't have to feel so hurt when you walked out on me. So yeah, I know, I'm a complete jerk who threw away the most important person in his life.“

“You don’t get to say that bullshit. You don’t get to use that crappy excuse! You should’ve TOLD me how you felt! You asshole! You think anybody wants a text telling them to go see other people?!”

“Look, I said I was wrong Y/N! What the hell else do you want from me?!” Jean yelled. “What the hell do you see in me?”

You let out a pained noise as if the wind was almost knocked out of your chest.

“When you say shit like that, it breaks my heart!” You cried out.

“I'm sorry…I just think so little of myself. If I knew you could be happy with someone else, I couldn't be the selfish jackass who kept you tied down to the wreck of a man like me.”

“Can you stop saying bs like this? I love YOU, I wanna be with YOU! And I’m just me. I ain’t perfect.” You said, exasperatedly.

“No, but you're pretty damn close.” He said with a snort.

“Idiot.” You sighed as you leaned in to kiss him.

“Hurry the fuck UP IN THERE!” A voice yelled, banging on the door.

“Jesus!” You cried out, as your hand gripped your chest in shock.

“Oh, I think someone's just jealous he's missing out on all this.” Jean said with a cocky grin as he lifts you, presses you against the door and suck on your lower lip gently which makes you moan slightly.

“Ah fuck, they’re doing it!” A voice calls out.

“I’m not fucking you in a dingy closet.” Jean snickers as he leans to kiss your neck. “C’mon. Lemme take you home. Please?”

Those amber hues of his. You let out a sigh.

Did he deserve this? No. But did he have you wrapped around his finger? Absolutely. City girls down -500.

"Now...what in the hell are you supposed to be?" You questioned as the two of you headed out of the party, hand in hand.

"The Grim Reaper. Why, who do I look like?" He chuckled, arching a brow.

"Like...a guy in all black.." You snorted.

"That's not even a costume, dummy. Do you not see the scythe I have propped up against my shoulder? Now who are you supposed to be?"

"Guess." You said flatly as his eyes raked over the bodysuit and mask that you'd lowered to your chin.

"You're missing a key component." He scoffed.

"I just didn't wanna do the whole prosthetic jagged bloody teeth thing." You sighed. "Makeup is one thing. But prosthetics?"

"Well, the whole toothy thing would make it peak Halloween." He chuckled as he looked you up and down again. "I won't knock it though, you look good."

"Yeah...maybe next time you can be Johnny Cage." You grinned.

"Oh, don't tempt me with a good time. I bet you could pull off a mean Sonya Blade."

"You damn flirt.." You murmured as you shook your head. "That 613 will go on your card."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." He grinned as he kissed the top of your head. "You know I only had eyes on you in there."

"Explains why you dragged me into the closet to yell at me.."

"I didn't yell. I reprimanded you, and it was in private so no one heard."

"Cos you got mad at me dancing with another guy, huh? Gentle reminder, you're my ex. Ergo we have no business together."

"You're damn right I did, I don't want you dancing on some other schmo. And why were you doing it in the first place?"

"Cos I wanted to! And don't even play dumb you were having the time of your life with that chick."

"So? I wasn't grinding on her ass on the dance floor now was I? I was just talking. Jesus..."

"You probably would."

"I would not, goddamn it. And don't start again. Now that we're past that bullshit, how about that sleepover?"

"Sleepover? That's what we're calling it now?" You said with a wry laugh. "Promise you won't get disappointed when I bring out the chick flicks and nail polish instead of letting you fuck."

"Promise you won't be disappointed when we end up doing both." He grinned.

"Are you still rooming with Connie and Sasha?"

"Yup. I mean, we have separate bedrooms and all that of course. It's not like we're sleeping together. Why, you don't want me bunking with some other girl?” He asked.

"Oh please. You think I'm that jealous I'd be wary of Sasha of all people? She wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot barge pole."

"Touché. I'm an avid spokesperson against flatcest." He chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Baby, that's like one of the first rules of rooming. Sleeping with your flatmates always descends into disaster."

"Ah. I guess that makes sense." You responded. "Connie still a slob?"

"That man child? I'd be lying if I didn't say he's improved. Freshman year with his dirty boxers all over our floor nearly drove me to insanity." He said with a shudder as he reminisced.

"Have you drank?" You asked, curiously.

"A little... you?"

"A lot.." You responded. "Tasted disgusting though."

"Ah...that explains why you're so damn whiny. C'mere..." He said as he threw an arm around you, pulling you into his side.

"What else would you have gone as?"

"I thought a vampire. A little blood, a little bit of a vintage tux, some fangs, the usual stuff. But in the end, I figured I was hot enough to go as myself." He grinned. "What about you? What were you gonna be if you weren't Mileena?"

"Maybe Morticia Addams...so I could wear a 27-inch jet black buss down y'know.....grins. But I'd need my Gomez... and well...you're a giant.."

"Yeah, I'm too tall to be Gomez, you're right." He paused. "Here's an idea, what if you were Gomez and I were Morticia? I bet I can pull it off for you."

You blinked a few times at the absurdity of his suggestion.

"I could pull off the dress and makeup and all that stuff. Would you still go as Gomez if I promised I'd be Morticia?" He insisted causing you to throw your head back with laughter.

"What? I could totally do it. Look at this body, it practically screams Morticia Addams." He smiled as he flexed his muscles a few times. "I'll even wear the makeup. For you."

"I never would've thought you'd be interested in drag." You chortled.

"You think I don't have it in me to be a hot goth girl?" He teased, his voice dropped low. "And for you? I'd be interested in anything. So, you down?"

You couldn't turn him down. The glimmer in his eyes was making your heart race.

"Next Halloween. I'll be Gomez..." You said with a dazed smile.

"I'm holding you to that." He said with a satisfied grin.

"Did you just know we were gonna hook up?" You questioned as you followed after Jean into his bedroom. More annoyed at yourself than him, really.

He chuckled as he yanked off the cloak of his costume and hurled it over the armchair, revealing the black t-shirt and jeans he wore underneath.

"Yes." He said triumphantly. "I saw my gorgeous girl and I knew."

You sat on the edge of the bed. It'd only been a summer away, one season. But his body looked a bit different.

"Did you go somewhere hot?" You asked, referring to the tan.

"Yeah, went to Cali for two weeks." He said as he began to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his muscular physique. "You?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just wallowed in my room to OK Computer."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." Jean said with a wince. "Y/N, I'm sorry."

"I love how the idea of me wallowing to Radiohead is emitting that level of disgust from you."

"Yeah. I fucked up, huh baby?" He sighed as he kneeled again, between your knees. "Will you let me make it up to you?" He murmured as he unzipped the bodysuit and kissed along your shoulders and neck.

You nodded as your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-light kisses on your bare skin.

"I need to hear you say something, baby." Jean said lowly as he cupped your face in his large hand.

"Please..." You sighed, goosebumps all over your skin.

"Please what? Use your words, huh?" He said, making your brows furrow.

"Stop being annoying." You snapped.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just funny to get under your skin." He chuckled as he got up. You moved back until you hit the headboard and he hovered over you, with a grin.

"I hope you don't mind me taking my time." He said softly as he stroked your cheek.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he kissed your neck before finding your lips with his mouth and pulling you in close. His fingers digging into the plump flesh of your skin. Afraid he'd lose you again.

Your tongues intertwined as you embraced in a long, deep, intimate kiss that made you both moan.

"You missed me, huh?" You teased, when the two of you laid in the sheets, out of breath.

"You have no idea, Y/N." He whispered as he kissed the spot underneath your ear. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." You mumbled.

"You said you didn't see anybody during our break up, so what did you do...when you had needs? Huh?"

You wanted to roll your eyes. This was definitely Jean's insecurity all over again.

"Why do you wanna hear me talk about touching myself so bad, you perv?" You scolded.

"I'm just curious!" He pouted.

"That don't work with your grown ass." You snapped as you pushed his face away.

"Baby, please."

"Fine. Yes."

"To what?"

"Jean, now you're taking the piss." You barked.

"Please, please..." He whined as he nuzzled the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

"Fine! To the videos you used to send me!"

"That's wrong and you know it." He told you off but he clearly was proud of himself.

"Whatever. We made too many weird videos anyway." You snorted at the memory.

"Maybe we should film more, huh?" He grinned.

"Dunno, baby." You said as you stroked his cheek. "What if they got leaked around campus, huh?"

"Then I'd find out who leaked them and break their legs with a tire iron." He said with a chuckle as he kissed underneath your jawline.

"I forgot how unhinged you are." You sighed with a giggle.

author’s note: city girls down -500 dedicated to one of my fave fics hehe but if u reached dis far ty for reading 💓

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein angst #jean kirstein fluff #aot x reader #aot x black!reader #aot x black y/n #aot x female reader #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

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