#THIS IS SO BAD AND YOU HAVE ALL MY APOLOGIES
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❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞
ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.
wc. 6.5k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.
an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3
the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .
as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”
“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.
“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”
the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.
as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.
he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.
he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.
god, he was handsome.
gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”
you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,
you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”
“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.
his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”
and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,
your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.
thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.
alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”
“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.
right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.
with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.
gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.
“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”
your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.
the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.
every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.
“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.
he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.
the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.
ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,
not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .
you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.
“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”
and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.
“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.
your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”
“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”
you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.
with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”
a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.
as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.
“c’mere, sweetheart..”
out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.
throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it.
his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.
he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache.
“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”
“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”
“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside.
sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”
“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses.
playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”
“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”
stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”
“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.
gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”
“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”
you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”
he was so cocky, yet you were so needy.
as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust.
“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.
you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”
you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”
“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”
you start off realllll slow,
sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..
your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.
as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.
he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features.
gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”
“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear. his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”
his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.
breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”
“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.
his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.
as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”
“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”
as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”
“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.
with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”
“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”
“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”
“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”
you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.
his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”
“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”
“but—”
“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”
and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.
“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers.
not just any passenger though,
gojo satoru.
he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”
with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”
“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”
“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.”
panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”
“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”
“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”
you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.
“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”
“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.
“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”
“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”
“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .
and then— his phone rings.
you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”
still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”
in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.
“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.
a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.
he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”
“what—?”
with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.
you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”
you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.
you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”
right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.
“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”
“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”
gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”
he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.
zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”
#★vegasbaby.#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#jjk fic#smut#jjk x reader smut#cw sex mention
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off the beaten path
pairing: patrick zweig x reader
summary: what could go wrong with a non-refundable honeymoon and a broken engagement?
warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no sex scenes), exes to lovers, idiots to lovers angst, fluff, there was only one bed MULTIPLE times, jealousy!! (like a lot), slow burn, no use of y/n, so much use of the word fuck, a little toxicity, some facts about landmarks are inaccurate for the plot, lots of arguing and making up, miscommunication, seasickness, patrick & reader kinda have no social awareness, a lot of hotels and buses, alcohol, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
word count: 18.4k
author’s note: this was so much longer than i expected it to be, but i loved writing it so so much and i'm gonna be sad to see this pairing go! also, a special thank you to the tour website whose itinerary i used for their trip. i hope you enjoy!
JFK AIRPORT
You scrolled endlessly on your phone as you sat at your gate, trying your hardest to fight off the combination of sleepiness and anxiety that had been slowly creeping up on you for the past hour.
You should be happy—excited to spend the next month of your life traveling throughout Europe on the trip that you had dreamt about since you were a child. Instead, you were filled with dread at the prospect of your quickly approaching trip, leaving your leg bouncing and your eyes flitting between the device in your hands and the entrance of the gate, anxiously anticipating the arrival of a man that you really really did not want to see.
Once it was announced that first class was boarding, you quickly hopped out of your uncomfortable seat, hoping that if you boarded quick enough, you might be able to miss your unwanted companion. As you stood in line, you tried your best to be casual about your endlessly swiveling head and wondered if it was too late to simply call the whole thing off.
Boarding had gone smoothly enough, and as you settled into your seat, you still hadn’t seen any sign of your former fiancé. For a second, a spark of hope lit up in you. Maybe you’d get to experience Europe without that pest in your ear after all. Maybe you could even arrange a friend to come fly out and be with you for a few days, or find someone to have a romantic summer fling with.
But just as soon as your hope arrived, it departed with the sound of a familiar voice walking down the aisle and directly towards you.
“They wouldn’t let me switch my seat.”
You couldn’t believe that those were the choice of words the man you’d intended to spend the rest of your life with had decided to start with. After months of radio silence. No apologies, no awkward small talk, no sugar-coated words about your situation, just a complaint about the conditions the two of you would be in for the next eight hours. Classic Patrick.
“That’s too bad,” you replied, already annoyed by his presence. You had underestimated how much of a challenge this trip was going to be, solely based on the speed at which your negative feelings had come to the surface.
“Yeah, no shit,” he muttered under his own breath, putting some luggage into the overhead bin above your seats.
“You’re the one who insisted we still go,” you argued, not wanting him to get the last word—even if his last words were meant to be a snarky comment to himself more than anything else.
“The hotels, tours, and all the other tickets were non-refundable!” he argued right back to you.
“So?” you shot back like a petulant child.
“So I didn’t want to waste your money.”
“Oh, how considerate,” you scoffed sarcastically before beginning once more. “You’re rich! You don’t even have to be here!”
“Just because my family is comfortable doesn’t mean I want to waste my money.”
You openly rolled your eyes at his words. Comfortable was the understatement of the century. “So you didn’t actually want to waste my money. You didn’t want to waste your own.”
“Why can’t it be both?” he asked, sounding exasperated by your line of thinking. You hated when he did that. You kind of hated most things he did now. Maybe you just hated him.
“I never said it can’t be both, I just think you should stop trying to act like you’re so charitable for doing me a favor. As if our relationship wasn’t filled with me doing you favors.”
“Do you really want to be having this conversation right now?” he asked.
“Sorry, you’re right. We have the next thirty-five days to talk about it.”
The two of you sighed in a synchronized breath at the mention of the amount of time you had to spend together. You hated that the two of you were still in rhythm after everything you’d been through. Or maybe you just hated Patrick.
“Who plans a thirty-five day honeymoon anyway?” he huffed.
“Us, apparently. I mean, you were all for it, what? A few months ago?”
“Only because you wanted it.
“Oh, how could I forget. The ever-charitable Patrick Zweig. Taking a month-long break from hitting balls to be with me. I’m forever in your debt,” you mocked with a dramatic hand to your forehead. “At this rate, you’re gonna send me a list of all of the nice things you’ve ever done for me. What do you want me to say? Thank you for doing the bare minimum as a boyfriend?”
“Fiancé,” he corrected you, earning a very nasty side eye from you in the process of doing so.
You were beginning to get dirty looks from your fellow first class passengers, which temporarily shut the both of you up. It was never a good idea to piss off people on a plane. You didn’t want to end up on the no-fly list just because you couldn’t bite your tongue around your ex.
“Remember when you said we could still be friends after this?” Patrick spoke once more after your moment of silence.
“Of course I remember, but you stopped that from happening when you…” your voice trailed off as you made eye contact with a very displeased looking middle aged woman “Whatever. Let’s just… try to get through this flight. And try not to make any more of a scene.”
“Fine,” he replied, shrugging in your peripheral vision.
“Fine,” you said back, not wanting him to have the last word.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you think you win every argument just because you said the last thing.”
“I’m not doing that,” you lied. “You think you know me so well.”
A familiar agitated smile broke out on his face, something that you unfortunately missed seeing. “I do know you well, though. I see right through you.”
“You actually don’t, though.”
“I do,” he insisted, the smirk creeping onto his face telling you that he knew you were actively proving his point.
“Not really,” you dismissed and attempted to casually pull the headphones that were currently sitting on your neck up to cover your ears. You were always grateful to have noise-canceling headphones when you were traveling, but they were coming particularly in handy for you to win this argument. You tried to hide your self-satisfied smirk as you pressed play on your phone, but you could instantly tell that you were failing.
When you looked back up, Patrick was clearly saying words to you that you weren’t able to hear. Knowing him, he was probably saying something along the lines of, “Real mature.”
The truth was that he wanted the last word more than you did–which made it particularly rewarding when you gestured to your headphones before throwing your hands out in a shrug to indicate to him that you couldn’t hear him.
Your vacation was already off to a chaotic start. You couldn’t help but fear what the next thirty-five days would be like.
BARCELONA, SPAIN
Despite the flight only being eight hours long, you were absolutely exhausted by the time that you checked into your hotel room. So exhausted that you failed to remember to request to switch rooms to one with two beds rather than one.
This predicament only came to the forefront of your mind once you and Patrick had already swiped into the room, suitcases lying on the floor and one king-sized mattress presented in front of you.
“Should I go back down to the front desk?” he asked as he looked from you to the bed.
“I’m too tired to get a new room,” you replied. You could handle one night next to your ex. You’d slept in a bed together for years. Granted, during those years you were also sleeping together, but this wasn’t all that different.
“Fine. Don’t complain if I hog blankets, then.”
“Fine,” you replied. “Just stay on your side of the bed.”
You shucked your backpack from your shoulders and walked over to what was typically the side of the bed where you slept when the two of you had been a couple. Not wasting any time to get ready for bed, you began to take off your clothes and search for your pajamas. Once you glanced over your shoulder, you were quite displeased to find Patrick rather openly ogling at you.
“Stop looking at me,” you demanded.
“What? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He said with a smirk.
“You’re such a creep,” you muttered, throwing on an old shirt and crawling into bed.
As you laid in bed and texted your friends and family that you’d arrived at your hotel safely, you took a peek of your own at your former partner as he got ready for bed. He seemed to be going with his classic bedtime attire of just boxers. Bold move.
Your eyes were momentarily stuck on his abs and enticing happy trail. You’d planned your trip during Patrick’s off season while he was training for his upcoming season, so you were pleasantly unsurprised that he was in such good shape. Your breath caught for a second as you thought about the rest of him, and you desperately tried to repress the low, fiery feeling rising in your stomach.
“And I’m the creep?” he asked with a laugh, pulling you away from your objectification as he got into bed next to you.
“Yeah,” you replied, as if you hadn’t just given him the same treatment he’d given you.
“Well… like what you see?”
You scoffed at his audacity, though you did like what you saw. “I’m not fucking you. Goodnight.”
You hit the light on your nightstand and you swore you heard a quiet sound of disappointment come from Patrick. Bastard.
You turned your back to him and closed your eyes, finding that sleep took you under surprisingly easily.
When you woke up in the morning, you were greeted by a far too familiar feeling. Despite your request for Patrick to stay on his side of the bed, the slow, steady breaths being breathed into your ear and the solid wall of body behind you indicated that he had not only traveled into your space over the course of the night, but was actively spooning you.
You were shocked to find that you didn’t necessarily mind it. Yes, you were mad at Patrick for everything that had gone down between you, and because he was such a pain in the ass, but you also hadn’t realized just how much you missed being held. Particularly, how much you missed being held by him.
The more alert you became, the more you realized that you couldn’t really move. Despite that, you found that you didn’t really want to move. Sure, you were beginning to get uncomfortably hot, and yes, you could feel Patrick’s morning wood pressing against your ass, but none of it was particularly unpleasant.
Part of you wondered if your trip would go differently than you expected. Regardless of how you acted towards one another, you clearly both missed each other.
Your shrill phone alarm suddenly went off, startling Patrick awake behind you.
“Mmm, fuck, sorry,” he sleepily slurred as he rolled away from you. You turned over to look at his tired face, eyes still lidded and speckled face looking far softer than you remembered.
Out of the blue, he opened his eyes, catching you in the act of looking at him with barely-concealed affection. Before he could make some sort of snarky comment, he shot out of bed, adjusted his boxers, and made an urgent beeline towards the bathroom. All of which would’ve been far funnier if his actions hadn’t been disrupted by the loud message ping of his cellphone.
You weighed out your options. You were curious about what was waiting for him on his phone, but you weren’t sure that you’d have time to properly snoop. As if the universe was listening to your thoughts, the sound of the shower began, telling you that you had all the time that you needed to do some adequate investigation.
You wondered who was texting Patrick so early in the morning. Knowing him, it was probably his mother, checking in to make sure he made it to his destination safely. You were sure that whatever message she left would also be inquiring about you. She’d always had a bit of a soft spot for you, especially compared to some of the other people that Patrick had brought home. That, of course, was an observation shared to you from Patrick, so you couldn’t be sure how much of it was flattery compared to truth.
Regardless, her fondness for you had carried into the end of your relationship, with her occasionally messaging or calling you to make sure that you were still doing well, and more importantly, to check in on the status of your relationship.
Much like you and your friends, she’d been holding out hope that your relationship may repair itself. With you and Patrick being as passionate as the two of you were, you were no strangers to seemingly serious arguments that resolved themselves in a matter of days. While calling off a wedding was far more drastic than any of your other disputes had been, after being together for years, it was hard to imagine a world where the two of you weren’t a couple.
But his call never came. You didn’t hear an apology or explanation or even an excuse from Patrick—just a suggestion of when you should pick up the items you’d left at his place.
You hated to admit it, but there was a naïve part of you that was still holding out hope that this trip would be exactly what you needed to reconcile. And maybe that naïeve part of you was less delusional than you might’ve originally thought. Surely cuddling into the morning and Patrick’s poorly hidden morning wood were signs that this vacation was already going in the right direction. Maybe being in such close proximity was exactly the push you needed to get your relationship back on track.
After a halfhearted internal debate, you grabbed his phone from the night stand on his side of the bed. Attempting the passcode he’d been using while you were together—the digits of your birthday—you were pleased to find that the password hadn’t changed and that you were granted access into his phone. What you weren’t expecting to see was Tinder on the homepage of his cracked device.
You paused for a moment and attempted to reason with yourself. Your former fiancé probably didn’t even use the app. He’d likely been pressured by his rebound-obsessed friends to download it, and hadn’t even opened the app since setting up his profile. Besides, you didn’t get on his phone to see what new apps he’d downloaded, you were snooping to see what his mom had to say about you.
When you opened his messages app, your mouth promptly fell open in shock. Patrick had always been loyal to you—at least to your knowledge—while the two of you were together. Seeing him be so openly flirtatious and suggestive with an attractive woman that you hadn’t ever heard of was more than jarring.
Your stomach churned as you scrolled through the conversation, flirty messages and images from both sides that left little to the imagination disturbing you in a way that you hadn’t ever realized was possible.
In the midst of your distraught state, you nearly missed the background noise of the shower coming to a halt, informing you that your time snooping had come to an end.
You set his phone back down where you’d found it and desperately tried to push down the bile in your throat that was tasting more and more like jealousy and anger by the second.
You knew it was irrational for you to be feeling this way, considering that the two of you had been broken up for a few months. Nothing legally or morally tied the two of you together anymore, but that didn’t make you feel any less unsettled by what you’d just seen.
It was just that… you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fully move on from Patrick. He’d been part of your life for so long, and the way things ended had been so abrupt that it almost didn’t feel real. Even if you did move on, it was going to take you more than three months to do so. It wasn’t fair that Patrick’s name seemed to pop up every week in your therapy sessions, while he was sending pictures of himself in gray sweatpants to random hot women.
You wanted to shrink into the mattress and never come back up. You wanted to yell at Patrick the moment he stepped out of the bathroom. You wanted to turn on your side and wail dramatically, at least until all of your big feelings felt a little smaller.
But you were in Europe on vacation. You were on vacation, damnit, and you weren’t going to let one mildly disturbing text thread ruin your entire experience. Better yet, if Patrick was already moving on, there was no reason that you shouldn’t do the same.
You told yourself this as you rolled out of bed and dug in your suitcase, pulling out a sundress that had driven Patrick wild in the past. While you may have packed it with less than realistic expectations, your goal was far more grounded now.
Both of you could play this game.
You stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed after a shower of your own and instantly registered the almost cartoonish look he was giving you. You guessed that some things never changed, even when the two of you had decided to actively pursue other people.
“The tour guide said to meet in the lobby soon, so I’m gonna head down,” you explained, not giving him a second look as you began to search for your purse.
“The tour doesn’t start for another half hour?” he replied, sitting up from where he was laying on the bed.
“Well I wanna socialize with the people we’re gonna be traveling through Europe with,” you said a little snappily, still a little perturbed about what you’d found on his phone earlier. You conveniently left out the fact that you wanted to scope out any potential summer flings.
“I’ll come with you,” he insisted.
“You really don’t have to. Remember, this isn’t actually a honeymoon,” you slipped on some comfortable shoes and headed to the door. “I’ll see you around.”
You were probably being far more rude than you really needed to be, but your anger had only intensified as you showered and put on makeup. At this point, you were fully pissed—even if you didn’t have the right to be.
You made small talk with the people you met in the lobby as they began to filter into the room, and tried your absolute best to dispel the anger that was flowing through your veins. That proved harder than you anticipated, as Patrick was one of the last people to join you all in the lobby, and for the life of you, you couldn’t stop imagining him sitting in your shared hotel room and sexting his mystery girl.
Luckily, you couldn’t dwell on that ugly thought for too long, as your tour began soon after. Your friendly guide took your group around the city, explaining rather riveting information about the landmarks you visited and the city itself.
After being dismissed for a quick break, you found yourself sitting on a bench and chatting with a man in your group. He wasn’t really your type, but he was extremely conventionally attractive, and from the peripheral glances you caught of Patrick, you could tell that he wasn’t exactly pleased with what was going on.
While making him jealous, or annoyed, or whatever it was that he was feeling, wasn’t your expressed goal, it did feel nice to give him a taste of his own medicine. What felt less nice was glancing over and catching him typing on his phone furiously. You could only imagine whose boobs were on the other end of the line.
Reacting out of a bit of desperation and frustration, you began to play things up. You leaned over more to show off more cleavage, laughed a little harder at jokes that weren’t all that funny, and set a scandalous hand on his arm. You were determined to have that vacation fling now, and you were going to get it by any means necessary.
You laid it on thick for the rest of the afternoon, sitting next to him during lunch and flirting casually with him as your group walked through Park Güell.
You wondered if he noticed you throwing glances in Patrick’s direction after every interaction. You hoped that he didn’t.
It felt good to be getting even with Patrick—but not as good as you expected it to feel. The realization sunk in as a portion of your group visited a bar that was apparently very popular with the locals. Or at least, that’s what a very handsome man purred into your ear after sitting down next to you at the bar.
You’d been keeping an eye on Patrick as he socialized with a couple that he’d been talking to for the majority of your day, but you almost instantly lost track of him as you became consumed with this handsome stranger.
Everything happened in a bit of a blur—one moment you’d been nursing a Marianito, and the next you were holding the hand of a man whose name you couldn’t remember as he led you to his apartment.
By the time you’d left his apartment, you were nothing short of a mess. You were pretty sure that the only way you could’ve been more obvious about what had just happened to you was if you had the words “JUST HAD SEX” written across your forehead—and with the way the people in your hotel elevator were looking at you, you couldn’t be completely sure that those words weren’t on your face.
You made it back to your room safely, quietly opening the door and doing your best not to make too much noise, since at this hour, Patrick was surely asleep.
It did feel weird to be going back to his bed less than an hour after you’d been with another man, but you couldn’t necessarily say you felt bad. Patrick had started it, and you simply finished it off. If he didn’t have any issues with seeing other people, there was no reason for you to have an issue with it either.
Your efforts to be quiet had proved themselves to be for naught, as Patrick was very clearly wide awake, sitting up in bed and already looking at you disapprovingly.
You weren’t sure what possessed you to speak, rather than ignoring his presence and heading straight to the shower, but your mouth was open before you could stop yourself.
“Were you just gonna wait here until I got back, like I’m a kid who just snuck out or something?” you asked in disbelief, partially annoyed because of his action, but more ashamed to have been caught in such a state. It couldn’t have been more obvious to Patrick what you’d just done, considering that he’d seen you in a similar state hundreds of times.
“Baby, we are on a whole different, unfamiliar continent,” his tone was condescending and cold and it made you want to crawl out of your skin. “Why wouldn’t I wait to make sure you got back safely?”
“Don’t call me pet names. And I would’ve been fine. We were just at the bar,” you lied. Going to the apartment of a random man you just met probably wasn’t your brightest idea, but you made it out alive, and that was what mattered.
“Huh. The bar?” he smirked at you in a way that screamed that he was pissed, without really having to say a word.
“Yes, I- what does it matter to you anyway?” you hoped that the question would be enough to get you out of the situation. If you were going to argue, you at least wanted to argue after you were showered and in pajamas.
“What does it matter to me if you fucked someone else?” he asked, sounding like he was in complete disbelief.
“Yeah, Patrick. Why does it matter if I fucked someone else? We’re not together anymore. Did you forget? I mean, it seemed pretty obvious to you when you stopped speaking to me completely a few months ago.”
“Please, enlighten me. What did I have to speak to you about?”
“I don’t know! Maybe an ‘are you okay?’ would’ve been nice. Or something. Anything, really. We were together for six fucking years and you just dropped me like I was dirt!”
“I…” he trailed off, catching you by surprise. He almost always had a quick clever response that managed to piss you off in a way no one else ever could, so seeing him not knowing what to say next caught you off guard. “If our relationship meant that much to you, why were you all over that guy? I mean, seriously. I’ve never seen anything so desperate. You were practically rubbing yourself on him in the park like a bitch in heat.”
Contempt dripped from his words. You had never been so enraged.
“Are you joking?” you laughed out of sheer anger. “Patrick, you started it! How many Tinder girls have you seen since we broke up? And don’t you dare fucking lie to me. I saw everything you’ve been sending to Amelia. Amelia, I’m so lonely. Amelia, I’m so horny. Amelia, I love you so much,” you mocked.
“You went through my phone?” he asked in disbelief, not even bothering to address the rest of your statement. “Fuck. You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m unbelievable? How long did it even take you before we split for you to start seeing other people? I mean, knowing you, you were probably just waiting for the day we broke up to go get your dick wet.”
“That’s not true, and you know it,” for a second, he looked genuinely wounded—something you were only able to recognize after years of being in a relationship with the man. You didn’t like that you were actively hurting him, but he’d been inflicting pain on you from the moment you broke up.
“Fine,” you conceded on that front, knowing that he was right. It wasn’t completely true. If you hadn’t gone through his phone, you never would’ve guessed that he had already moved on. “But you’ve still been seeing other people.”
“We’ve been broken up for months now,” he replied, as if that was supposed to make things any better or more reasonable.
“Then why do you care so much about me having sex with someone else? It’s fine when you do it, but suddenly it’s an issue for me?”
Patrick’s face immediately paled. “You really fucked him?”
“Well, yeah,” you paused. “Well, not who you’re thinking of.”
“You fucked someone else?!” The hurt and disbelief buried under his words made your stomach churn. “You were flirting with that other douchebag all day, I don’t-“
“You’re acting like I’m some whore for reacting to something that you did first!” you cut him off.
“And you’re acting like I wanted to get rid of you this whole time!” he shot back out at you.
“Clearly you fucking did,” you hissed.
“Fuck you,” he huffed.
“Fuck you,” you shot right back. “I’m leaving.”
“Good,” Patrick replied with a shrug as if he didn’t care, although you were very sure that he cared. “Go run back to your little fuck buddy.”
“Yeah, maybe I will,” you replied as you gathered your items back into your suitcase. “He was better than you, by the way.”
“Yeah, I bet,” he said snarkily as he watched you pack up your items. Luckily, you didn’t have much to pack up and were already heading towards the door.
“He had a bigger dick, too,” you said as you swung open the hotel room door, fully satisfied with a lie that you knew would bother Patrick.
While leaving your hotel room seemed like a wonderful idea in the moment, as you went down the elevator, you started to realize that you really did not have many options for where you’d sleep that night.
You figured your best bet was the hotel lobby. Maybe you could pretend to be someone who’d drank too much and passed out on the first floor before you made it up to your room. You sat down in a comfortable looking chair and grabbed your keycard—in case anyone asked you to verify who you were—then set a floppy hat on your head to cover your face from the bright hotel lobby lights while you attempted to sleep.
Sleep was already going to be difficult to accomplish, thanks to the argument that you were certainly going to be ruminating on for days to come. That was only made more difficult by the uncomfortable seating and position you’d found yourself in. Somehow, you managed to fall asleep, being woken up by a hotel employee and a friend you’d made from your tour group.
“Long night, huh?” she asked you with a playful smirk.
“Mm, something like that,” you mumbled sleepily.
“Well, you can sleep on the coach. It just got here, so we’ll have the best pick of seats. C’mon,” she extended her hand out to you and you gladly took it, in desperate need of something grounding.
You dozed off on the coach once you’d gotten settled, headphones securely on your ears and sunglasses covering your closed eyes. You were vaguely aware of people boarding the vehicle around you, but didn’t pay much mind to anything. Eventually, you heard the faint sound of someone taking attendance of the people on the bus, followed by the commotion of someone getting on the bus late.
Something compelled you to open up your eyes, and when you did, you were displeased to find that Patrick was the source of all of the drama. Likely thing for him to be. He scrambled down the aisle, looking desperately for empty seats. To your own horror, you realized that the seat next to you was vacant, and perhaps the only vacant seat on the entire coach.
As if your minds were connected, you watched Patrick face that very same dilemma as he eventually decided to sit down in the only empty seat, right next to you.
Neither of you said anything at first, not addressing your blowout argument the previous night, or your awkward current situation.
“You look like shit,” Patrick finally said as the bus took off.
“Thanks,” you replied, mentally preparing yourself for a continuation of the argument you’d had just a few hours ago. It was only a matter of time before he brought up your promiscuity or started blatantly texting his Tinderella.
But none of that ever came. In fact, he just looked a little sad. It was weird to see Patrick so openly defeated. He was always one to put on a smirk or a challenging smile when you argued, letting the façade fall once he was alone, or once the two of you finally discussed what the issue was like adults.
You weren’t sure that you liked it. You preferred annoying asshole Patrick to sad, moping Patrick.
“You look like shit, too,” you added. “Which is crazy, since you had access to a shower and I didn’t.”
“And whose fault is that?” he asked, looking at you with the slightest hint of that devious smile. You had to fight the slightest inkling of a smile on your own face.
You felt ridiculous knowing that your mood was still being influenced by your former partner. Even when he was insulting you. Even after he’d spent the night arguing with you. Even after you’d slept with someone else. Even after the two of you had a messy split.
You still loved him.
“Yours, mostly,” you shrugged and put your headphones back on.
PARIS, FRANCE
Despite your brief conversation on the bus, you and Patrick didn’t speak to each other for the entirety of your commute. Although you clearly cared about him, it didn’t change the fact that he had upset and hurt you deeply. And even as upset as you were, you knew that you’d hurt him just as badly.
You had a particular dread for what awaited you in France, knowing that this part of the tour was very couples-activity heavy. When you’d scheduled your trip, this aspect of the tour felt like a major selling point. The two of you always seemed to be falling more in love with each other, and having a candlelit dinner by the Eiffel Tower felt like an exciting way to kick off your marriage.
Now, you just felt like an idiot.
The two of you did your absolute best to avoid getting paired up with each other for all of the activities that you could. You found yourself spending most of your time with a solo traveler who was close in age to you. She made a surprisingly fun companion to your cheese and wine taste test, popping cubes of fragrant cheese into your mouth and making a competition out of who could detect the most accurate notes in your wine.
While you found luck in your first few activities, you weren’t so lucky when it came to an evening ride of the Roue de Paris. Whether it was fate or just bad luck, after the pair in front of you had dipped out of line for reasons unknown to you, you had the shocking realization that Patrick had been in between them the whole time. So much for meeting new people on the massive ferris wheel.
You tried to look busy so he wouldn’t notice that you noticed, and did your best to think of some sort of game plan. Although you’d essentially been giving each other the silent treatment in the hours leading up to this moment, you’d caught Patrick looking at you multiple times throughout the day—something you only noticed because you’d been looking at him as well.
After a moment, the two of you were let into an empty passenger car. Sitting across from one another, it was hard to ignore the very obvious elephants in the room, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.
At first, you simply looked out the window, not saying a single word as the ferris wheel began to move.
“You should put that safety belt on, just in case,” Patrick commented from his side of the car, pulling his eyes away from the window to look at you.
“I doubt anything will happen,” you shrugged. “It’s fine.”
He eyed you suspiciously for a moment, before leaning over and strapping you in anyway. Your breath caught in your throat, his simple action putting you into serious psychological pain. It wasn’t lost on you how much Patrick liked to take care of you. It was far more obvious when the two of you were dating, with him covering the bills for dates and doing your laundry for you. It had been so ironic to you at the time, how a man who could barely take care of himself always went out of his way to make sure that you were going to be okay.
Now, his small act of kindness just made your stomach turn. But it wasn’t like you could express any of those feelings.
“Thanks,” was all that you managed before looking out of the window once more.
An awkward, heavy silence filled the passenger car once more as the ride began to take the two of you higher.
“The view is so beautiful,” you commented, unable to remain silent anymore and hoping that your words were neutral enough not to stir any pots.
“Yeah, it’s really nice,” his gaze remained fixed out the window, before he looked at you once more as if there were words on the tip of his tongue.
“I honestly don’t know how we managed to get in line in time to see the sunset,” you continued with your boring, neutral small talk.
“I’m glad we did. This is the perfect spot to watch it.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, continuing to look out the window instead of at the man across from you. “It’s so pretty tonight, too.”
“It is,” he agreed.
The two of you sat in silence again, only the sound of a soft whirring filling your ears. Then suddenly, all at once, the whirring stopped—and so did your passenger car.
“Are we stuck?” you asked, looking out nervously at the very tall height that the two of you were currently definitely stuck at.
“We can’t be. It’ll probably start back up in a second.”
It didn’t start back up in a second. In fact, after a series of announcements in French, an announcement in English suddenly declared that it would be at least an hour before the ride could be fixed.
At the sound of the announcement, both you and Patrick sighed aloud, still synchronized even after everything you’d been through.
“Maybe this is a sign,” Patrick piped up.
“What are you talking about?” you laughed at him, hoping desperately that this didn’t mean that he wanted to continue arguing with you. You genuinely did not have it in you to do so again. You also didn’t have it in you to sleep in another hotel lobby.
“Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day,” he confessed.
“Is that why you were staring at me all day?” you teased, a weak, slightly hopeful smile creeping onto your face.
“I was looking at you because I could feel you staring at me,” he clarified, as if he was setting the record straight. “I don’t want things to be like this between us anymore.”
“Yeah?” you asked, the pit of nerves in your stomach tightening at wherever he was going with his spiel. The anticipation of his words alone made you nauseous.
“So I think that we should talk about last night,” he suggested.
That was exactly what you didn’t want to hear him say. You had barely processed the argument yourself, let alone think about anything else that you had to say to Patrick that didn’t involve trying to hurt him as much as he hurt you.
“We don’t have to. It’s fine. The past is in the past,” you dismissed.
“It’s not fine, though. Not really,” he countered, all earnestness. You didn’t detect any harshness to his words or any blood in the water that indicated to you that he wanted to do anything more than have an honest conversation with you. “I was so out of line. I can’t- I don’t want you to think that I really believe the things I said about you.”
“Patrick, please…” you trailed off, hoping that he would understand that you didn’t really want to talk about this. Though, you were relieved to learn that he’d only said those things out of the heat of the moment.
“No,” he stood his ground. “We need to talk about this if we ever want our relationship to improve.”
“Fine,” you gave in. “But you start, so I can collect my thoughts.”
“Of course,” he leaned forward so he could get a better look at you, and you were immediately drawn into some intense eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, and I really shouldn’t have let you leave our hotel room. That was really stupid of me. I worried about you for the rest of the night and spent the morning looking for you.”
This was surprising information to you. While you did find it to be a bit of a dick move that Patrick would just let you leave like that after lecturing you about being unsafe in a new country, you hadn’t realized that he’d been late to boarding the coach because he’d been searching for you. You could only imagine the sick feeling he had as he realized he couldn’t find you anywhere.
“I’m sorry for what I said, too. Insulting you for trying to move on was really unfair of me. I was just… hurt, I guess. When I don’t even have the right to be.”
“You do, a little. We were together for a really long time, so it’s gonna feel weird that we’re starting to see other people,” you shrugged. “That was an excellent apology, that I accept, by the way.”
“Thank you. I really got a chance to practice my apology skills with the last woman I was with,” he explained. You tried to repress the feeling of jealousy that was already bubbling up in your stomach at the mention of another woman.
“Yeah?” you asked, hoping that he didn’t notice the brief twitch of your eye.
“Yeah. She’s super opinionated and outspoken, so we would butt heads a lot. But that was always something I really liked about her. That, and her magnificent ass.”
Finally, it occurred to you that he was talking about you. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, despite the fact that you were secretly very flattered by the way he was speaking about you. “Ew. Shut up,” you laughed.
“Well, if you’re done objectifying me, I would love to apologize to you too.”
“All done objectifying you. For now, at least. Go ahead.”
You were a little nervous about the words that were about to come out of your mouth. You just had so much to say, and you weren’t sure that it was all going to come out correctly.
“I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I genuinely did not mean what I said, I just got caught up in the moment. And I’m really sorry for going through your phone, because that’s seriously none of my business. It was such an unnecessary violation of trust, and I understand if you’re still pissed at me for that. And it was really ridiculous for me to overreact the way that I did over you seeing someone else, because again, it’s really not my business. I feel like I’m kinda the worst,” you confessed.
“You’re not the worst,” he countered.
“Fine, I guess. Maybe you just bring the worst out in me,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly.
“That sounds more accurate. We bring out the worst in each other.”
“Right. That’s why we’re such a good pair,” you paused, then corrected yourself. “Of friends.”
“Is that what we are now?”
“I never said we were good friends.”
“Frenemies?”
“Something like that,” you said, before the familiar whirring sound of the ferris wheel began once more.
“Huh. Who would’ve thought that the only thing the wheel needed to function was an apology to each other?”
“You’re so annoying,” you laughed and shook your head. “How are we gonna make it through the rest of this trip?”
LONDON, ENGLAND
Your final few days in France had been made far less awkward by your conversation on the ferris wheel. Deciding to fully embrace the couples activities the tour had reserved for you, the two of you were having a good time re-establishing your friendship.
Your trip to London had gone mostly without a hitch, with your group arriving in the city in the evening and immediately checking in to your hotel. At this point, you had given up on even attempting to get separate beds. It seemed like every morning now you woke up cuddling with Patrick, but you weren’t necessarily mad at the unintentional intimacy.
In some ways, your relationship was beginning to feel similar to how it felt before the two of you broke up. While you were sure that things wouldn’t be exactly the same—especially since you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room that was your breakup—it was nice to return to the comfort you’d found in your relationship with Patrick.
Like clockwork, the morning after your arrival in London, you woke up with Patrick pressed up against your back, nose buried in your hair. As he woke up, he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline out of what you were sure was just habit rather than genuine affection.
“Morning,” he greeted you groggily, rolling away from your side.
“Morning,” you replied, turning to face him. You ran a hand through his messy morning hair and looked at him fondly. It was taking far more self control than you had to not lean over and kiss him. “What time is it?” you asked, in part to distract yourself, but also because the digital clock was on his side of the bed.
“It’s…” he trailed off as he went to read the time. “Oh shit, we’re gonna be late.”
“What?” you asked, shooting up from your relaxed position.
“It’s 8:25,” he explained, already rolling out of bed.
In a rush, the two of you got dressed in record time, making it down to the lobby in the five minutes that you had to make it on time. You shared a high-five in the lobby, and tried your best not to dwell on how the simple action felt far more domestic than it needed to.
Your tour began not too long after that, getting your day off to a strong start. Your day of exploring London was by far your busiest. You were sure that you’d accumulated thousands of steps as you went between large museums, beautiful parks, and massive landmarks. By the time that you returned to your hotel room, you were pretty sure that your legs were mush.
You returned earlier than Patrick, who had gone out to a gastropub with a group of tourists in your group that he got along well with. You took this as an opportunity to have some alone time, taking a long and steaming hot shower, frolicking around the room in a soft hotel robe, and watching a movie while you waited for your room service to arrive.
After you’d thoroughly enjoyed your alone time, finishing off your room service and opting to scroll on your phone, the door cracked open and Patrick strolled in.
“Looks like you made yourself right at home,” he observed.
“I had to after today’s tour. So much walking,” you groaned.
“It wasn’t all that bad,” he shrugged, sitting down next to you in bed.
“Well, not all of us are professional athletes,” you laughed. “How was the pub?”
“Fun. It’d be better if you came.”
“I’m sorry, I was exhausted,” you sighed. “You could’ve stayed in with me and had a spa day.”
“We can have a spa day anywhere. We can have a spa day right now.”
“Mm, I’m all spa’d out. But the water pressure in the shower is excellent, so you should definitely check that out.”
“I will in a little bit,” he said. “Did you try out the actual spa here?”
“They were closed when I checked, which really sucks, since I was in desperate need of a massage.”
“Do you still want one?” Patrick asked.
“Yeah. I’ll probably try to stop by when they’re open tomorrow and get one.”
“No, I mean, do you want a massage now?” he added.
It had been a long time since Patrick had offered you a massage—or to put his hands on you in any capacity—but you remembered him being criminally talented at giving them. You also remembered his massages usually making for great foreplay that left your knees weak and your brain a pile of jelly, but that clearly wouldn’t be the case now, and you needed to get your head out of the gutter.
“I mean, sure. That would be nice,” you tried not to sound too excited, though the prospect of a massage from him sounded very, very nice.
While the prospect of a massage sounded nice, the actual massage was heavenly. You were sure that years of having personal trainers and physical therapists work knots out of his body had made him an expert at finding knots and kinks in your own, which was now leaving you sighing happily as he ran his hands over your back.
You tried your best to ignore the dull, fiery feeling growing in your lower stomach that was surely a result of experiencing a type of intimacy that you hadn’t in quite some time. As you let out an involuntary soft sound at a particular knot being rubbed out of your shoulder, you wondered if this massage was affecting him nearly as much as it was affecting you.
You promptly received an answer to this question when something hard and phallic brushed up against your leg. You turned your head to glance back at Patrick, and his face immediately grew red.
“Sorry. I can stop, if you want. It just happened because of the noises you’re making and- whatever. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Part of you felt a little satisfied knowing that you still had that type of impact on him. It gave you a tiny glimmer of hope to know that you were still, at the least, physically attracted to one another.
“It’s fine. I’ll shut up.”
“You don’t have to. I want this to be as relaxing as possible for you.”
“Well you’re doing a great job, if you couldn’t tell from all of the moaning and groaning on my end.”
You both somehow made it through the rest of the massage without spilling all over the bed, but as you melted into the bed, feeling every muscle in your body relaxed from your excellent massage, you couldn’t help but note the suspiciously long time Patrick was spending in the shower. And maybe it was just your imagination, but if you listened hard enough, you swore you could hear the sound of a soft chanting of your name coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
While part of you regretted not suggesting that the two of you help each other out with your mutual problems, you were pretty sure that it was for the best. You genuinely didn’t know where the two of you stood, as far as your relationship went. Hooking up would surely further complicate an already complicated situation, since you were pretty sure that ex-fiancés didn’t typically sleep together. But then again, ex-fiancés also didn’t usually go on a honeymoon despite not being together. Your complicated feelings on the matter only further proved to you that you made the right choice by not giving in to your baser desires.
By the time Patrick joined you in bed, you were already half asleep. Yet, even in your delirious state, you didn’t miss the way he came up behind you, pulling you into a loving embrace. It brought warmth to your chest to know that he couldn’t even wait for your automatic sleep routine to hold you, and that he felt the need to take matters into his own hands.
You were pretty sure that exes didn’t do that either.
AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS
You didn’t know what you expected from your first ferry ride, but being face deep in a barf bag while soothing circles were rubbed into your back was certainly not it.
Given that you weren’t a frequent rider of large vessels on bodies of water, you had no clue going into the ride that things would go so sideways so quickly for you. If anything, you thought you might have the opportunity to stare peacefully out into the water, or to force Patrick to take a few cute pictures of you. Unfortunately, you were currently doing neither of those things—and it didn’t seem like you’d be doing them any time soon.
You heaved once more, now almost totally sure that you had nothing left to give. Patrick continued to hold your hair out of your face with one hand and use his other to comfortingly rub your back, not at all fazed by your sickness. If you weren’t currently fighting off another wave of nausea and didn’t have the taste of bile lingering in your mouth, you probably could’ve kissed the man.
Once your brain finally told you the coast was clear, you leaned your head back and took several deep, gasping breaths of air.
“You alright, honey?” he asked you, and you didn’t even have the strength—physical or mental—to correct his use of a pet name.
“I could be better,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tilted your head back. “There’s medicine for this, right?”
“Yeah. Let me go see if I can find some.”
As you fought off a war of nausea and headache that was currently beating you on all fronts, you could faintly hear the sound of Patrick asking the people around you if they had any medicine for motion sickness. He eventually returned after what felt like a lifetime, but was probably more like a few minutes, carrying a bottle of Dramamine.
He helped you take the pill, putting it in your mouth then holding a bottle of water up to your lips to help you swallow it. The action felt oddly romantic, though it was more of a matter of practicality compared to anything else. You were clearly not in a stable enough space to get the pill down on your own, so his assistance wasn’t really anything for you to be over analyzing.
“Look at you, keeping that down,” he teased, running his hand up and down your arm. The motion was soothing, a bit of bodily comfort amongst a plethora of other awful physical pains you were experiencing. “You’re doing great.”
His soft caresses turned into a full-blown hug, with Patrick pulling you into a tight embrace. While the action itself was rather cute—especially since it seemed to be completely impulsive on his part—it instantly brought on a new wave of nausea.
“Pat?” you squeaked.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You’re sweet. But if we stay like this, I am going to be sick all over you.”
He pulled away from you with concern, careful not to move too quickly to set off another bout of sickness. While he let go of your body, he continued to hold your hand, as if he were attempting to ground you. With how anxious he was looking, he might’ve been trying to ground himself as well.
It was cute seeing him so worried about you. You tried your best not to read too much into it, and luckily, your slowly fading nausea was the perfect distraction from doing so.
“Thank you for the drugs. It was fun watching you scramble all around asking people for help. You’re such a good…” you paused, not really knowing what you were or what to say. “Ex.”
Now wasn’t exactly the ideal time to have the, ‘what are we?’ conversation, but Patrick didn’t seem to mind. And if he did mind, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it.
“Only the best for my ex.” Maybe you’d just been imaging it, but you swore you sensed a bit of hesitation on his end as he called you his ex. Admittedly, it would be significantly easier for both of you to be calling each other spouses, or even partners. But alas, you weren’t either of those things to each other anymore.
As if you’d read each other's minds, the two of you quickly moved on from that conversation.
After you’d arrived and gotten settled into Amsterdam, you set off to explore the city. When presented with a few options of things to do, Patrick insisted that the two of you go on a bike tour, much to your own chagrin. As much as you weren’t sure your legs could handle any more strenuous physical activity, you’d known that Patrick had wanted to take this bike tour since your trip was an actual honeymoon. Who were you to deny him of that?
As the two of you toured the very beautiful city, Patrick made sure to make a show out of his biking skills. While he was no professional cyclist, he certainly had the ego of one—which translated to him going a little too hard at times and nearly falling off of his bike more than once.
Each time he almost fell, you found yourself also almost falling, the onset of laughter at the ridiculous man riding next to you nearly being too much to handle. Without fail, every time the two of you did your almost falling, then break into a howling laughter routine, you were given dirty looks by your fellow tour mates. Unfortunately, that only made the situation funnier to you and Patrick.
By the time the tour had wrapped, it was clear that everyone was sick and tired of you. But at least this time, the people around you were sick of the girlish giggles Patrick pulled from you, rather than the rude words he provoked you into saying, like he’d done on the plane.
It was refreshing to be spending time with him like this. In the time that you’d been so upset about your break up, you forgot about just how good it felt to be around Patrick when your relationship was going well.
It was also nice to be spending some alone time with him, away from the rest of your tour group. As the two of you looked at strange knick-knacks in an antique store, you realized just how much you missed being alone with him. While it was nice that the two of you had made friends within your group, your dynamic as a duo was obviously something really special. Maybe that’s why the two of you had been together for so long.
You spent the majority of the afternoon doubled over in laughter, playfully teasing Patrick, or being on the receiving end of subtle, gentle touches. As you really began to think about it, this day of travel had been your favorite—by a long shot. It also happened to be the day that felt most like one from a honeymoon.
Although it had already been clear to you for some time that you still had feelings for Patrick, the day you had spent together had completely sealed the deal. Once Patrick had surprised you with a beautiful bouquet of flowers over dinner, you’d only been more sure that you were sick with love for your ex.
It was a small miracle that you’d rounded out the day without confessing your feelings, particularly since you ended the evening with a movie playing on the television of your hotel room that the two of you barely paid attention to, as Patrick held you and talked about some of the things you’d missed while the two of you were separated.
In the morning, you woke up to the soft sound of chatter, rather than your loud alarm clock or the sound of deep breaths in the shell of your ear.
From what you could faintly make out from the words and the lack of a warm body beside you, Patrick was on the phone with his mother. You wanted to feel bad for eavesdropping, especially since you’d just had an argument with Patrick over your snooping habit just over a week ago, but it was far too difficult not to listen in.
“I’m glad you liked the picture,” you made out from the muffled words behind the doorway. You were sure he was referencing the selfie the two of you took in front of Big Ben a few days ago. You also liked the photo a lot, with the two of you looking particularly good and particularly happy. You’d also taken a more baity photo of him kissing your cheek, specifically to send to his mother who he knew would be overjoyed to see you. While Patrick had explained the idea behind the picture as his mom simply wanting to see you, you knew the more accurate statement is that his mom wanted to see the two of you together.
After a beat, there was a soft chuckle. “No, we’re not back together. No mom, there’s no ‘yet.’ I know. I’m an idiot, I know- aren’t you supposed to take your child’s side? Well, I don’t know if you know this, but we never ended up getting married, so no, she’s not your daughter. How could she possibly be your favorite child! We just talked about this. I’m gonna hang up. I’m serious. Alright. Love you, bye.”
When Patrick returned, you were already sitting up in bed.
“Can you tell your mom I say hi next time?” you asked with a cheeky grin on your face, still coming off of the high that was the romantic outing you’d had the day prior.
“I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” he replied, getting back into bed beside you. “She probably wants to hear from you more than she wants to hear from me.”
You laughed and shook your head, not bothering to argue with his words since you both knew they were pretty accurate.
“I mean, I’m sure she’ll be inviting you to Thanksgiving and Christmas long after we’ve moved on with other people and have our own families.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You were sure of it. You thought you could genuinely feel the movement of your most vital organ slowly sinking into a pit of stomach acid.
You tried not to let your smile falter, considering that Patrick was looking right at you with a sweet look of his own plastered on his face. You wondered if this was some sort of test, to gauge how you felt after a day of rekindling the love the two of you thought had burnt out.
Or maybe, more realistically, he’d already come to accept the reality that you’d been stalling on accepting: your relationship was truly over. One fun day wouldn’t change the fact that your wedding had been called off, and that the two of you said things to each other that would alter the foundations of any solid relationship for years to come.
Your heart was such a traitor. She refused to accept the simple fact that Patrick wanted to move on, and that your relationship was a thing of the past. Maybe, if you couldn’t convince your heart to accept that truth, you might be able to force your brain to.
“And I’ll still be accepting that invitation, thank you very much,” you stated, trying to sound confident in your words. “In the meantime, let’s get ready before we miss this bus. You can tell me what your mom’s menu is gonna look like this year on our ride over.”
SOMEWHERE IN CENTRAL GERMANY
It was stupid for you to be torn up the way that you were over just a few simple words, but the more you thought about it, the worse you felt.
In reality, it wasn’t just what Patrick had said to you in the hotel room. It was the fact that he’d been actively trying to move on with other people since who knew when, and the way he seemed to frequently verbally reiterate the fact that your relationship was over. By holding out hope that you might somehow be able to repair your relationship, you were being much more naïve than you even realized.
You felt stupid. But you also felt confused, because as much as Patrick swore he was over you, and pursued other people, he was also far too comfortable acting like nothing had changed between you two. After all, he was the one flirting with you, and trying to attach himself at the hip to you as you traveled. He was the one who always managed to end up spooning you over the course of the night and woke up kissing whatever part of your body he was closest to. For god's sake, he’d just told you yesterday about how he’d searched high and low to find a bouquet of flowers that he thought you would genuinely like. And most damningly, you hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on his face when he found out that you had slept with someone else. That wasn’t the behavior of someone who was over their partner.
To say you were receiving mixed messages was a complete understatement. You couldn’t understand how it was possible that the man who was currently leaning against you very affectionately, despite being on a cramped bus, was also totally over you and wanted to move on.
You didn’t know what you wanted to do about the situation, but you were sure that you couldn’t keep going like this.
Your bus stopped somewhere in Germany for the evening, letting you all out to have dinner and do some light sightseeing before regrouping in the morning and heading to Prague. Somehow, that translated to going to a bar to try out German beer for you, Patrick, and a few of the friends you’d made while traveling.
After a brief intermission of checking into your hotel room, your small group met up in the lobby, then set off to find a bar.
Drinking while you were feeling a little upset probably wasn’t your brightest idea. The speed and volume at which you were consuming alcohol was a little concerning, but not nearly as concerning as how much Patrick was drinking. Eventually, even in your drunken state, you realized that you should probably slow down—if nothing else, to take care of him.
But the two of you continued on, going from bar to bar, getting drunk at a level that probably would’ve been acceptable when you were younger, but was certainly going to take a major toll on you now.
Forgetting about the repercussions of the future, you two were having a great time. Despite you being out with a group, it felt a little bit like the two of you were in your own little bubble. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter as the two of you took shots and danced together. Not the people around you, not the fact that you had to be up early the next morning to make it onto your coach, not even the fact that Patrick had implied that the two of you would move on and have families with other people only a few days ago.
By the time that the rest of your group had called it quits, explaining that they wanted to be up and functional in time for your ride the next morning, you and Patrick were still in your own little world. It was only after you’d shared a few drunk cigarettes that the two of you decided that the fun should end, and that it was time to head back to your hotel.
Unfortunately for you, midway through your trek back home, your drinking buddy had given up on walking, leaving you tasked with literally dragging him all the way back to your hotel. While a sober version of yourself would’ve been annoyed by the inconvenience, all you could really think about was how nice it was to have his body so close to yours.
After a tumultuous journey back, the two of you finally made it back to your hotel room. You had only been in the room for a matter of seconds before Patrick collapsed onto the bed and let out a loud sigh of relief, followed by an even louder yawn, as if he was the one who had just carried you down the road.
It was annoyingly endearing.
You had half the mind to at least get somewhat ready before getting into bed, shedding your outermost layer of clothing before joining Patrick in bed.
“Thank you,” he said to you once you laid down next to him.
“Mhm,” you hummed, your head still pleasantly buzzing from the alcohol. “But I’m never doing that again.”
“Aww, why? We had so much fun,” he practically whined. “I always have so much fun when we’re together.”
“I had fun, but you’re so heavy. You’d never guess it. All those muscles,” in the midst of your complaining, you reached over to grab his bicep to demonstrate his point.
He laughed, which made you laugh, though you didn’t exactly know what you were laughing at. Then, out of the blue, he randomly said your name in a very serious tone.
“Can you help me with something?” he asked, sounding very genuine and giving you a look that you couldn’t quite place in your drunken state.
“Anything,” you replied earnestly and meant it. You would probably do literally anything that he asked you to do at that moment. Move a mountain? You’d start pushing. Marry him? You’d wake up an officiant and come up with vows on the spot. Help him hide a body? You were sure you could find a shovel somewhere.
“Can you help me get my shoes off?” he lifted a foot as he spoke to demonstrate his point, a little pout on his lips. You were a little disappointed that he hadn’t asked you for anything else, but you also weren’t quite sure what it was that you wanted him to ask you for.
You groaned playfully, a long and drawn out sound that you hoped would communicate that you were exhausted after dragging him through the city and comfortable where you were laying. Still, you leaned over and untied his shoes before gently slipping them off. When you looked back up at Patrick, his pants were newly half undone and halfway off, but it looked as if he had given up fully taking his pants off.
“Need help with that too?” you asked, though you were already working on slipping the article of clothing off of his legs.
Though you tried to push the thought out of your mind, you couldn’t help but recall a similar night the two of you shared several years ago. Your relationship was still relatively new, but you were already very obviously in love. So in love that you’d gone out of your way to set up a surprise party to celebrate a particularly successful tennis match, decorating your apartment with photos of him with trophies and other tennis paraphernalia and inviting as many of his close friends that you could track down. Still riding the high of winning and his all-consuming adoration of you, Patrick had partied a little too hard, leaving you in charge of tucking him in at the end of the night.
After bringing him a glass of water, the man snuggled into your sheets and slurred out a comment about how they smelled like you. You felt your cheeks warm as he continued on in a disjointed ramble, talking about how much he appreciated you and how no one had ever gone out of their way to make him feel like that before. He ended his monologue with a request for you to help him take his clothes off, and you happily obliged. It was tender and far more intimate than you’d expected, and ended in a drawn out kiss that left you giggling as you told Patrick that he tasted like Smirnoff Ice.
Even as inebriated as you currently were, the nostalgia made you feel a little dizzy.
By the time you’d finished helping him get his pants off, Patrick had clearly given up on getting his shirt off, too. Once again, you moved your hands up his body and helped him out with the piece of fabric.
“Look at that. All ready for bed,” you commented, setting a hand on his bare chest. The small action made your heart soar, and you promptly decided that it was probably better for you to avoid touching him altogether.
“My watch?” Patrick asked, lifting his wrist up to show you the accessory.
“You can take your watch off yourself,” you replied, leaning back into bed and finally laying down.
“Fine.”
“Night, Patty,” you said, reaching over to turn out the bedside lamp.
“Wait,” he paused pensively, as if he was digging deep in the recesses of his mind to conjure up what he was about to say. “A kiss?”
“Patrick!” you gasped, sounding far more scandalized by the proposition than you actually were. Of course you would give him a kiss, you just weren’t sure you were ready to open up that can of worms, especially after you’d had a minor crisis at the realization that he genuinely wanted to move on.
“No goodnight kiss? C’mon. Fully commit to tucking me in,” Patrick insisted, as if it was the most logical thing ever. As if either of you had the self control to not let something as simple as a kiss spiral out of control.
“Fine,” you sighed before pressing a gentle peck to his forehead, figuring that was the safest place to do so. A forehead kiss was about as platonic as it got with you. “Sweet dreams.”
“Thank you,” he said, rather sweetly as his eyes shut. “Love you.”
Those words instantly gave you pause, causing you to suddenly feel very alert and very sober.
“Sorry, what did you just say?”
“I said I love you?” Patrick repeated, looking at you with confusion. “What?”
“Nothing,” though it was very much not nothing. In fact, if his confession was true, it would change everything. “Go to bed.”
“Wait, what?” Patrick grabbed your arm, looking very worried in the low light of the room. “You’re mad. You’re mad that I love you?”
You didn’t even know how you were supposed to react to that admission. While it had been exactly what you’d been dying to hear from him for months, it only further complicated your already very complicated situation.
“I’m not mad, I’m… I’m just tired. Let’s go to sleep, okay?”
Your explanation seemed to placate Patrick enough to let it go and go to sleep. He shuffled around to get comfortable behind you, before pulling you in to hold you as he’d done for the entirety of the trip. Except, tonight, it didn’t feel quite right. The mixture of his frequent rejections of you, paired with his casual confession that he still loved you made your head spin.
The following morning, you woke up with a pounding in your head and a gross taste in your mouth—only one of which, you could fully attribute to the drinking you’d done last night. You clumsily reached for your phone, and found yourself pleasantly surprised to find an announcement about the delay of the next bus you would be getting on.
You got out of bed with a grunt, your entire body aching with the reminder of having to drag Patrick through the city last night. Somehow, the sore muscles didn’t hurt nearly as much compared to the memory of being told that Patrick still loved you.
You slowly paced back and forth around your hotel room, desperately trying to organize your racing thoughts. Did Patrick actually mean what he said last night? Or had been caught up in the heat of the moment? If anything, the latter seemed more likely, since he’d been very obviously trying to distance himself from you. But had he really been distancing himself from you, or just talking about distancing himself from you? If his care for you on the ferry had been any indication of how he really felt about you, it was possible that his drunken words were more honest than you were trying to convince yourself that they were.
Finally, you decided to stop annoying the person staying in the room under you with your increasingly frantic pacing, and to go outside to walk. Some fresh air would be good for you anyway.
“Where’re you going?” a muffled voice, heavy with sleep asked. You paused the tying of your shoes to look over at the bed, where Patrick was currently squinting at you.
“I’m just going for a walk,” you told him. “Go back to sleep. The coach is coming late.”
“Wait for me. I’ll come with you.”
That was probably the last thing you needed or wanted. After all, the whole purpose of your walk was to help you sort out your thoughts about Patrick. To say he wasn’t a welcome addition to your trip was an understatement.
“Okay,” you said anyway, against your better judgment. It seemed like you hadn’t been using much of your judgment at all on this trip. What was one more poor decision on top of a series of poor decisions?
You watched him get ready from where you were sitting, quietly impressed with his ability to get up and be functional despite surely being just as hungover—if not more—than you. He also seemed wholly unaffected by the conversation you’d had last night, which was something that you certainly couldn’t say for yourself.
With sunglasses perched on your nose and the weight of your entire relationship placed on your shoulders, the two of you headed out into the city, walking on the same sidewalks that you’d practically carried Patrick down the previous night.
“Last night was fun,” Patrick commented, making small talk with you as you began to head down the street.
“Some parts,” you agreed, hoping that he’d recall you grunting as you lugged him down the street, rather than your shock when he told you that he still loved you.
“I honestly don’t remember most of the night,” Patrick said with a chuckle that almost sounded a little forced. You couldn’t be sure if he was being honest or searching for a cop out for the things he’d told you before you went to sleep, but you weren’t sure that it really mattered.
“Unfortunately, I do,” you replied.
“Oh no. I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain.”
“You were like, slightly above average in terms of being a pain. Nothing I’m not used to.” You figured that maybe you could banter your way out of this situation. Perhaps if you just pretended that everything was okay, things would magically become okay.
But that didn’t feel alright. In fact, it wasn’t alright. If you ever wanted to improve your relationship with Patrick, you had to stop beating around the bush with him. You were both adults. You’d been together for years, yet you felt like you wasted far too much time not being straightforward with your thoughts and feelings. If there was going to be a next time for the two of you, you wanted things to be different.
“You did say something kinda interesting last night, though.” While it had been easy to talk up a big game in your head, you immediately regretted the words that came out of your mouth. Regardless, it was too late for you to back out.
Patrick laughed nervously before asking, “what?”
“You just… you kinda told me you still have feelings for me, or whatever. I just think, maybe we should talk about it. Or at least talk about us.”
The man next to you paled at your words. Your regret for bringing the topic up immediately grew exponentially.
“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” Patrick said, though he was lying through his teeth and both of you knew it. You wanted to approach this topic with civility and an open mind, but his blatant lie was making that a rather difficult task.
“Are you kidding? We’ve been tip-toeing around it this entire trip.”
“We’re broken up. You called off our wedding. I don’t think it gets any more straightforward than that,” he dismissed with a gross simplification of the state of your relationship.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. And even if it was, all I said was that I didn't think I was ready to get married. You put the final nail in the coffin when you told me you fell out of love with me. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to interpret you not being in love with me anymore when you still act the way that you act with me.”
You could tell the direction this conversation was going, your discussion quickly veering into argument territory as Patrick began to invade your space as he always did when you argued.
“And how exactly do I act with you?” he challenged, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were talking about.
“Do you want me to give you a list or something?” you asked, his anger becoming contagious.
“Sure, why not,” he said drily.
“Fine. Let’s start with the cuddling, then. Please enlighten me, do you know any exes who spoon regularly? I mean, I certainly don’t. I don’t even touch my friends like that. So I don’t know what that really makes us. Or maybe how jealous you got when you saw me with someone else. I really can’t think of any sort of platonic explanation for that, and trust me, I’ve tried. And while we’re at it, I guess I should mention those showers. I respect the hell out of your faith in the thickness of these hotel walls, but I actually can hear you moaning my name while you’re in there. I’m honestly a little flattered, but I’m mostly confused.”
“Like you’re not doing the same,” Patrick scoffed. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was masking his true feelings with hostility, and though you wanted to engage in an actual conversation with him, you weren’t sure you would be able to take the high road in this conversation.
“Sure, but I’m not the one in denial of what’s going on here!”
“I’m not in denial. Have you ever considered that maybe I want to move on?”
“Do you, though?” you asked, pausing on the sidewalk.
“Clearly, I do,” he stopped right along with you, now really getting in your face.
“Clearly,” you repeated with a laugh. “Maybe you should start acting like it.”
“Maybe you should stop clinging to the past.”
His piercing gaze was unwavering as he waited to read your reaction. You knew how he liked to play this game, looking for an indication of any sort of weakness from you. You refused to give him that, though his words cut deep.
“Okay,” you said calmly, though you were very much not feeling calm on the inside. “Well, thanks for letting me know how you really feel. Or how you think you feel. I don’t really know anymore. And I don’t think you know either.”
PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC
If you had known that telling Patrick that he drunkenly confessed to loving you would’ve broken the already very delicate relationship the two of you had built back up, you never would’ve said anything at all. As it turned out, having some of Patrick was better than not having him at all.
The contempt he now felt for you had become so strong that he didn’t even seem to be able to look at you. He sat next to a different person on the bus to Prague, not even sparing you a glance. When you arrived at the hotel, he made it a point to ask for separate rooms—something the two of you hadn’t done the entirety of your trip. As your tour began, he seemed to make a strong effort to separate himself from you, standing in the back of your group when you were in the front and vice versa.
Usually, even after your worst arguments, you’d been able to find the time to talk out your feelings, but now it seemed like Patrick couldn’t even find it in himself to give you that.
You wanted to be mad at Patrick too. You were mad at him. But you missed him more than you were angry with him, and you yearned to be with him, no matter how crazy his constant antics drove you.
Part of you felt frustrated that your relationship had become so cyclical since your breakup. You weren’t sure you could handle another cycle of fighting to the point of real anger, then making up with your relationship still a little more strained than it was in the past. You just wanted Patrick. Why did things have to be any more complicated than that?
You desperately clung on to any bits of hope that your relationship might persist, coming out of this argument altered, but still existing. You snuck peeks at Patrick while you toured a beautiful castle and tried to bite your tongue until you stopped thinking of how badly you wanted to grab him and joke about his home looking like that castle. You wondered if he wanted to put your initials on a lock and put it on a bridge as much as you did. You wished you could ask him if he missed the warm body in bed beside him the way you did.
But every time you looked at him, he was pointedly not looking at you. As your group paused on the bridge to allow couples the time to make their own locks, Patrick didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You were sure that even if he did miss you in bed, or wherever else, he would never tell you about it.
You didn’t want it to be over—but you couldn’t keep clinging to hope that it wasn’t.
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND
Getting to view the breathtaking scenery of the Swiss Alps as you sat on a cable car had been a dream of yours for years. What wasn’t included in that dream was dodging the glare of your ex-fiancé as the two of you sat in silence on that very gondola.
Unluckily for the two of you, you were stuck together for the afternoon. Private skiing lessons in the Swiss Alps sounded like a great, even romantic, idea while you were planning the trip, but it was far from romantic now.
The two of you stood on opposite sides of your instructor, the tension between you so thick that in the midst of his safety spiel, he paused to ask if everything was okay between you. After a stilted reply of yes, your instructor looked at you both skeptically before carrying on.
Seeing as Patrick was an athlete who spent his childhood school breaks in Aspen, he was pretty decent at skiing already. Far better than you, a novice who was moving a little bit like a giraffe standing on its feet for the first time.
While it wasn’t your first time skiing—that had been on a family vacation you’d tagged along on with the Zweigs—you certainly were not experienced enough to be keeping up with Patrick, who had the experience and the ego to give even your instructor a run for his money.
It was entertaining to watch him in his element, his competitive side coming out despite the fact there was no competition anywhere to be found. He was significantly faster than you wherever you went, and skied with a confidence that you doubted you would ever be able to exhibit. In the past, this behavior may have been slightly endearing to you, but right now, it was mostly a little annoying.
You and your instructor stood above Patrick, watching him effortlessly glide down the mountain in front of you. If you weren’t so agitated, you might actually have been impressed. As if your instructor was actively reading your mind, he leaned over to say something to you.
“I think he’s trying to impress you,” he said quietly, though the subject of your conversation was an entire slope away.
You nearly choked on your own saliva at the observation. “No way.”
“What do you mean no way?” he laughed. “Trust me, I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve seen it all. Couples, crushes, friends, coworkers. I know posturing when I see it.”
“Trust me, he could care less.”
He looked at you with a doubting squint. “Why don’t we go down there and ask him?”
“Absolutely not,” you laughed. The thought of asking Patrick anything after the interactions you’d had seemed absolutely ridiculous. At this point, you wouldn’t even ask him what time it was.
“Sorry. Let me rephrase that. That was me telling you that it’s time for you to go down the slope.”
You looked downhill at where you needed to go, noting that it was far steeper than what you’d been practicing on leading up to this point. You had been looking for an excuse to stall going down it, but now that your instructor had said something about that, you couldn’t not go.
After taking a deep breath, you began to go down. Gaining a bit of speed, you also found yourself growing slightly more confident, closing your eyes and feeling the cold air press against your body. While you were enjoying your speed at first, it was quickly growing out of hand, and you began to panic as you realized just how fast you were going. Desperately trying to pull your skis into a V shape to slow down, you were horrified at the realization that you were far too late, and actively heading towards a cluster of trees. You didn’t know what to do other than to accept your fate, and everything had happened so fast anyway that you found yourself tumbling into a tree, a searing pain on your ankle and tailbone as you laid out on the rocky ground.
Everything felt like it was moving slowly and quickly at the same time. One second, you were alone in the snow, and the next, Patrick and your ski instructor were hovering over you, goggles on their foreheads as they looked at you with concern.
“Are you okay?” you were finally able to make out once the slight ringing in your ears had ceased.
“Did you see how hard she crashed? Of course she isn’t fucking okay,” Patrick’s voice huffed, though slightly muffled from your helmet covering your ears.
“My ankle,” you said, as if that gave them enough context. You wondered if they could see the tears beginning to pool under your goggles. The pair looked at your limb, though with your snowsuit covering it, they really couldn’t see much.
“Can you walk?” your instructor asked you.
“I haven’t tried, but I’m gonna go with no.”
“We’re gonna have someone check you out. Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon,” your ski instructor told you. You blinked a few times and mustered all the strength you could to nod.
The longer you sat, the more you began to realize how badly everything hurt. From your head down to your surely swollen ankle, you weren’t feeling too hot. You closed your eyes, suddenly feeling very exhausted. Maybe a quick little nap was exactly what you needed to feel a little better.
“Hey, don’t do that. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell, so you might have a concussion.”
“I don’t, I’m just tired,” you explained, though you didn’t know for a fact that it was true. In fact, with the pounding in your head, you more likely than not had a mild concussion.
“Well, you kinda have to stay awake,” Patrick told you, though he surely knew it was easier said than done. You were surprised when you felt his gloved hand take yours and squeezed your hand softly. “Hey, why don’t you tell us a story?” he suggested, clearly just trying to keep you awake.
“Do you wanna hear the story about how he proposed to me?” you asked the instructor. You weren’t sure why that was the first thing to pop into your head, but it was a long enough story to keep you awake until help arrived. You wished your goggles were slightly less tinted, so you could at least see the scandalized expression Patrick was probably making. You loved when you made him react like that, since the roles were usually reversed.
“Well, yeah. Of course,” your instructor responded with a hint of a laugh. “You guys are engaged?” he directed towards Patrick.
“This is our honeymoon,” you replied before Patrick had an opportunity to respond. You wished you could see the confused look that your instructor was surely making.
“So what happened?”
“When he proposed?” you asked to clarify.
“...Sure.”
“Well, for a little context, Patrick here is a professional tennis player. He’s really good too. So given my athletic ability, as you got to see today, I never really played with him. Like, he would always ask me to just play a fun, quick little round and I would always tell him no. Mostly because I knew he would crush me. I did play a little bit back in the day, but I was nowhere near his level. I mostly preferred to be on the sideline while we dated. I mean, I came to every single one of his games. I’m pretty sure my office introduced remote work to us because of me, since I was traveling all the time to see him.
“Anyway, one day, after a day of buttering me up, and I mean, he was really laying it on thick. I don’t know how I didn’t think something was up,” you laughed as you recalled the day, how Patrick had scheduled a nail appointment for you, then wined and dined you during a very romantic midday picnic. “But he asked me to play a little bit of tennis with him. I think I just thought he spent the day buttering me up so that I would play tennis with him, not that I would agree to marry him, but I digress.
“We get to the tennis court and Patrick’s nervous like I’ve never seen him. He was a little jittery all day, but this was a different beast. Looking back, I really don’t understand why. He should’ve known I was going to say yes. Anyway, we’re playing, and somehow I win, even though I’m extremely rusty and have absolutely awful form. Obviously I knew Patrick threw the match for me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna gloat at him.
“So I’m doing my victory spiel and I walk over to his side of the court, where he’s digging in his bag. He’s so quiet, which should’ve been a sign that something was up, and I’m thinking he’s about to pull out more tennis balls and tell me we’re doing a rematch, so he can really crush me. Instead, he pulls out a box and gets down on one knee. He gives me a speech about how he didn’t care if he never won another game of tennis in his life, because as long as we were together, he was a winner. It was really sweet. Obviously I said yes.”
You finally looked over at Patrick, though you couldn’t perfectly read his expression through the darkened lens of your goggles. You wondered if he felt any of the same feelings that were currently simmering in your own chest. Though, you didn’t get to stew too long, as help arrived just as your story came to a close.
You were taken to an infirmary and given a series of tests, some to see the state of your head and other to see how the rest of your body was doing. Surprisingly, you made it out without too much serious damage. Your ankle was sprained, but nothing that would make it take too long to heal. You had a concussion, which surprised you, given your ability to recall so many details earlier in the day, but it was a very mild one. At least you’d made it back into your hotel in one piece.
You really just wanted to relax for the rest of the evening, and you had plans to do exactly that, when there was suddenly a soft rapping at your door.
You got up, and with help from the crutches you were provided, you hobbled to the door and opened it. On the other side was Patrick, who you were both surprised and unsurprised to see.
“Hey. I got your room number from the front desk,” Patrick told you. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Sure, but I’m probably going to sleep soon,” with some effort, you sidestepped the doorway to let him in.
“Do you need anything? Want anything?” he asked as he made himself at home in your room, evaluating what you already had.
“I’m good, I think.”
“How’re you feeling? They wouldn’t let me see you at the infirmary.”
“I’ve been better,” you shrugged, sitting down on the foot of your bed to take some pressure off of your aching ankle.
“I bet. Are you icing that?” he asked, gesturing to your most obvious injury.
“I haven’t been able to make it out to the ice machine,” you confessed, though the doctor had suggested ice for the inflammation.
“Let me go grab some for you,” he said before disappearing out into the hallway. Once he left, you laid back in bed, letting out a sigh of relief at how much better being flat felt.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like being taken care of this way. It seemed like no matter how bad things got between the two of you, you would always care for one another in some capacity. You wondered what had gone through Patrick’s mind when he saw you hurt yourself. You wondered if that changed anything in the way he felt about you.
He knocked on the door once more to tell you he was back, though the door was already unlocked.
“If there’s anything else you need, I mean anything at all, just call me. I’m just down the hall from you,” he told you as he bagged up the ice he retrieved.
He sat down on the foot of the bed, where you’d previously been sitting, and tenderly set the bag of ice on your ankle, clearly not wanting to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He looked at you a little sadly before standing back up, not wanting to linger in your presence too long.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he explained, already turning to head towards the door.
“Thanks, Patrick,” you paused, looking for any other words you had for him. “Good night.”
“Night.”
SOMEWHERE IN ITALY
The next few days in Switzerland had been extremely boring. Due to doctor’s orders, you mainly stayed in bed, avoiding screens by reading books, and looking out the window to view the mountains that you were currently missing.
Although you had to miss a lot of the fun your tour was going on, like a cheese and chocolate tour, you somehow still received an anonymous delivery of cheeses and chocolates—though, you were pretty sure you knew who was responsible for that.
Patrick didn’t seem like he wanted to overstep any boundaries, which you respected, though you really could’ve used some company whose ear you could talk off. Hell, you’d even take another nasty argument over the resounding silence of your room.
Luckily for you, by the time your group was traveling once again, you were starting to feel slightly better, concussion and ankle-wise. Though, your head was starting to hurt from listening to a person at the front of the bus go on about how much they needed the bus to pull over somewhere.
After a period of incessant complaining from someone on your bus, the vehicle finally came to a stop at a small rest stop in the middle of the Italian countryside.
Not willing to pass up an opportunity to stretch your legs, you got off at the stop, briefly stopping inside the building to look at what they had to offer before stepping behind the building, watching the wind blow through the overgrown weeds.
Your attempt at enjoying the quiet, idyllic countryside was disturbed when you were joined by a smoking companion.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said.
Before you could stop it, a sad smile appeared on your face. The two of you hadn’t spoken since your brief conversation in your hotel room, despite the mystery snack deliveries and the promise of coming if you called.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he said plainly.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” you dismissed.
“You’ve spent the last few days all alone in a room with a concussion.”
“It’s mild.”
“You fucked up your ankle.”
“It’s healing. It’s not all that bad.”
“Well, I’ve been worried anyway,” he passed you his partially smoked cigarette and you took a drag from it, though you were sure that was one of the things you shouldn’t be doing with a concussion.
“Thanks, I guess.” you said. “So is this just a wellness check, or…?”
“No, well, yes. Obviously I was worried about you physically, but I also was wondering about how you were in general.”
It was strange to see him clumsily mince his words, given how bold he usually was.
“Oh? What changed between here and Germany?”
“What changed? What changed was that I watched you almost die.”
You laughed aloud at his over dramatization of the event. “Patrick, I did not almost die.”
“How would I have known that? I just saw you flying downhill out of control and crashing and it terrified me. I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.”
You weren’t sure how you were supposed to interpret his words, especially after the wild ride you’d been on throughout the trip. You weren’t sure you could handle another emotional bait and switch.
“Pat, maybe we should talk about this later. The bus is probably taking off soon.”
“No,” he stopped you with a hand on your arm, calling you back with a desperation you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I don’t want to waste another second without you.”
“Okay,” you said, though you weren’t sure that you should buy into it yet. “Go ahead, then.”
“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you or don’t want to be with you,” he confessed, which genuinely took you by surprise. With the way he’d been dodging your attempts at building a connection, you certainly didn’t think he’d tell you something like that.
“Then why have you been pretending?” you asked, hoping that your somewhat harsh words didn’t betray your genuine curiosity behind his behavior.
“I don’t know,” he said. It was a terrible, unsatisfying answer. One that didn’t explain a single reason behind his behavior. “I guess I just can’t wrap my head around the idea that anyone would want to keep me around long-term.”
You looked at him with shock in your eyes, your mouth slightly agape at the confession. You couldn’t imagine Patrick, overconfident, bold, and self-assured, who you’d been dating for years, not feeling secure in your relationship–to the point where he’d been actively trying to push you away out of anticipating how you’d feel about him.
“When you told me you weren’t ready to be with me, it just confirmed everything I’d been worried about—that one day you would wake up next to me and realize that I wasn’t the guy you wanted. I guess it just happened sooner than I anticipated.”
You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “If you felt like that, then why’d you tell me you weren’t in love with me anymore?”
“I thought if you were gonna leave me anyway, I might as well beat you to the punch.”
You were giving it your all to keep it together at this point, feeling slightly vindicated to know that Patrick was lying about no longer loving you, but mostly devastated that your whole relationship had been uprooted over an assumption that Patrick had made about you.
“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you looked out into the grass, then back at Patrick. “I wish you’d stop assuming that you know what I want all the time.”
“Hey you two, last call for the coach,” your tour guide suddenly interrupted, looking very obviously annoyed that the two of you were holding the bus up.
“Sorry. We’ll head back now,” you apologized to the guide. “We’ll continue this conversation later?” you directed towards Patrick.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
VENICE, ITALY
Putting a hold on your conversation probably wasn’t the wisest idea you’d ever had, considering that your next few days in Italy were set to be your busiest this far.
Between gondola rides on different boats and exploring historic palaces, the two of you didn’t have much time to stop and have as serious of a talk as you wanted to have. Even if you did somehow manage to pick up where you’d left off, there were so many people around you that it didn’t even feel worth it.
Luckily for you, your hotel had a private beach attached to it, and as you spent your evening by the beach, watching the sun go down, you were pleased to find that you were joined by familiar company.
At first, Patrick didn’t say anything as he sat down on the same chair next to you. The two of you enjoyed the serene sunset and privacy that the beach afforded you in silence, though you were sure that things wouldn’t stay that way for long.
“I love you, you know?” he finally piped up, breaking the silence with a very bold declaration.
You looked at him calmly, though you weren’t feeling very calm on the inside. You’d been waiting to hear those words from him from the moment that the two of you broke up. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to it now, though the confession was better late than never.
“I love you too. I never stopped,” you told him simply, as if the realization that you were stuck on him hadn’t been haunting you for months now.
“I never did, either. It was cruel of me to ever tell you that I did.”
You nodded in agreement, wondering if Patrick would ever understand the full extent of the damage his words had done to you. “It was, but I understand where you were coming from. If I had known that you didn’t think I was going to stick around, I would’ve gone about what I did differently,” you began to explain. “I think it came across as me not wanting to marry you at all. Of course I wanted to marry you. There was just so much else going on in my life then that the timing didn’t feel right.”
“But the timing might be right someday?” Patrick asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.
“The timing will be right someday. Maybe sooner than either of us know,” you shot him a wink, then broke into a grin as he pulled you into a firm, loving embrace.
ATHENS, GREECE
The rest of your time in Italy mainly consisted of making up for lost time, with the two of you partaking in far more PDA than what was ever necessary and thoroughly documenting your time abroad together as a couple.
Thanks to your injury, you were slightly slower than the rest of your group. But that certainly didn’t stop Patrick from lagging along with you, letting you lean on him for support when you needed it and pausing to sit and take breaks with you whenever you noticed that walking was taking too much of a toll on you.
It was nice to be back with him, to not have to feel stupid for feeling what you felt or feel the pressure of knowing that you should probably be trying to move on. The only unfortunate part was how little time the two of you had left on vacation, with you heading home after spending a few days in Athens. If only the two of you had been upfront about your feelings earlier, then you could’ve been having as great of a time as you were having now during your entire trip.
The two of you briefly floated the idea of having somewhat of a shotgun wedding, but scrapped it after realizing that you would prefer to have your family and friends there to celebrate with you. After all, many of them had been on the emotional rollercoaster that was your relationship right along with you.
For the time being, the two of you were perfectly content with being together, and knowing that neither of you had any intentions of leaving.
Somehow, that made your last few days of vacation feel infinitely better.
ATHENS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
You scrolled endlessly on your phone, sending out a few messages to friends and family to let them know that you were heading back home. While you typically felt a few nerves before boarding a plane anywhere, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of excitement, both at the thought of being able to go back home and sleep in your own bed, and at the potential your newly reformed relationship had.
Your scrolling was interrupted by Patrick’s presence, carrying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in his hands with a slightly goofy look on his face.
“Sorry for taking so long. I think everyone and their mother wanted coffee today,” he explained as he sat down, passing you your items as he got comfortable next to you.
“No worries. I’m just glad you were running late to grab us breakfast, instead of trying to switch our seats like last time.”
The two of you shared a laugh before Patrick said, “That feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It basically was,” you dismissed.
Once it was announced that your group was boarding, the two of you stood up quickly, attempting to gather your bearings before getting on the plane.
“‘Till next time, Europe,” you bid the country goodbye as the two of you made your way to the line.
“Should we come back to Europe? I was thinking our next honeymoon should be somewhere else. Maybe Bali.”
“Oooh, Bali sounds nice. I think anywhere warm and with a beach is good,” you explained, though you really didn’t care where you went, as long as Patrick was there by your side.
#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig fic#art donaldson x reader#challengers#challengers fanfic#josh o'connor x reader
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Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.
Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.
Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.
He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.
He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.
"You are awake" said the man.
His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.
A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.
This is no man; this is a Merrow!
Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.
When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.
The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.
Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow on the shore. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.
and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.
"Speak" The merrow demanded
"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.
"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Back to my ship."
"You will attack me."
"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."
The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.
"All men lie."
"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.
While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.
While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.
The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.
"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."
"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.
Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.
Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.
It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.
Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.
"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.
The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.
"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."
The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.
Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.
He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.
Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.
"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.
The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.
"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."
How long had Steve been unconscious?
"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.
The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.
"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.
Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."
The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.
"You don't remember?" it asked
Steve shook his head.
"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.
Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.
"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.
The merrow shook its head.
"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."
Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!
But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.
"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.
Rude.
"My head hurts"
The creature cocked its head to one side.
"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"
"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"
Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.
"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.
"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.
The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.
Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.
Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.
Steve flinched away from the splash.
"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.
Steve held both his hands closer to his body.
"Why?"
The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.
Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.
And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.
The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.
It was seaweed.
"Wh-"
"Eat it."
Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.
"Raw?!"
"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."
Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.
"Is it medicinal in some way?"
"It is food."
"Ah."
The merrow starred at him expectingly.
Steve starred right back.
"I'm not going to eat this."
"Then your head will continue to ache."
"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."
"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."
Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.
"So you can drown me?"
The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.
"So I can heal you"
He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.
The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.
The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.
He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.
He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.
"You had a bump on your head."
"Had?"
"I rid you of it."
Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.
He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.
"Thank you." He said.
The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.
He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.
It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.
Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.
Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.
"So you will not run away." it explained.
"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."
"I cannot take that chance."
"How long will you keep me here then?"
The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.
"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.
"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.
The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.
"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."
"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.
"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.
"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"
The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.
It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.
"What is your name?" the merrow asked.
"What?" Steve replied
"What is your name?"
"Is this some kind of trick?"
"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.
Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?
"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.
"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."
"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."
"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.
"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.
The creature rolled its eyes again.
"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"
Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?
"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"
"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"
"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.
The creature quickly disappeared into the water.
Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.
Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.
He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.
The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.
Steve smiled.
"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked
"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"
.....
Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.
He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.
He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.
Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.
It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.
"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.
Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.
"I'm drying them."
"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."
Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.
"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked
The merrow eyed him oddly.
"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.
"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."
The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!
"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.
So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.
"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.
Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.
Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.
"Do you have a name?"
The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.
"I was called Edward once."
"Once?"
"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.
"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.
"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.
Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.
"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."
Edward raised his eyebrows at that.
"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."
Steve breathed out a small laugh.
"I wasn't lying."
"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.
It doesn't believe him, not entirely.
No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.
When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.
It frowned at him.
"You are sharing with me?"
"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.
It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.
"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.
"The bladder you had around your belt?"
Steve nodded.
"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.
"How long was I unconscious?"
The merrow frowned at his food.
"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."
That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.
"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.
"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."
Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.
"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.
Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.
When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.
"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.
Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.
"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.
"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.
"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.
"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.
It is a strange and confusing creature.
Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.
#steddie#merman!eddie#pirate!steve#mermay 2024#steddie fic#i know im playing fast and loose with the mythology#but in my defense the mythology is pretty sparse#I started writing this in april and it was supposed to be mabey a couple hundred words#now it's over 3000#steve harrington#eddie munson#really getting this in at the nick of time
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Idk what this is, but enjoy ig
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"You're such a stupid fucking slut. You'd let anyone fuck this juicy pussy, wouldn't you?"
You didn't know who this was, just that the voice sounded familiar. Female, someone close to you, someone you know very well, someone you hang out with on the regualr. All those details, but still no conclusion.
You knew you liked the way they fucked you from the back though.
"My darling, such soft skin you have. Makes me feel like I have ruin it for you," she chuckled, "how do you think," she paused and brought a sharp knife to your throat, "this would feel carving into your supple skin? Cutting you open until you bleed out. I'd definitely rather use this instead of a pen to write on you."
"Oh, my god," you breathed.
"Yeah? That sound nice to you?"
You moaned as you pressed for her name, "who- are you? Why are you doing this- ah"
"Honey, you know me. It honestly pains me that you don't recognize my voice."
That's true, the voice was familiar, but fuck you couldn't for the life of you figure out who this person was. I mean, you could probably guess if it weren't for the huge cock filling you all the way up and brushing over your g-spot with every thrust.
"You know me. Tell me my name and you'll get to cum. Come on, baby."
You wailed pathetically at her command, honestly too muddled to obey anything and anyone. "No, please let me cum! I don' know your name, but p-please let me cum. You feel t'good!"
"That's not fucking happening."
She grabbed you by your hair and pushed your head into the pillow under you, pulling her cock out suddenly causing an empty feeling wash over you and pull a muffled whimper out from your throat. Your whines filled her ears before a shrill scream did, the scream being a result of slaps the rained fire on your bottom.
"Who am I?" She growled in your ear.
And when you wailed out a pitiful "I dont know" followed by a cut-off apology, the woman only intensified her onslaught upon your already-beaten ass.
"Wrong answer, baby."
She repositioned her body and pushed her cock inside your sopping pussy again, fucking you with a vigour that didnt seem to be there before. "Tell me who I am, Y/N."
When you gave no answer, only squeaking and moaning into the pillow, soaking it with your drool and tears of frustration, she spoke again, "I'll give you three clues, and if by the last one you still don't know who I am, well, I guess we'll be here all night, and trust me that won't be fun for you."
The woman turned you over and used her hand to cover your eyes, pressing down on your tear-stained and drool-covered face to continue her thrusts without fail.
"Listen up, baby, here comes the first clue. You've known me your whole life." The sounds that followed were moans and whimpers, then a disappointed click of the woman's tongue, "Still nothing? I guess that was my bad. That was kinda shallow."
"Please, please," you sobbed as your core avhed for release, your orgasm teetering between snapping and holding together.
"Alright then, second clue. I've called you beautiful more than once." When you whimpered, she chuckled, "Oops, was that too shallow again, honey? Too fucking bad."
"I'm gonna fucking cum. Would you like that? My cum filling you pretty pussy up?"
"God, yes. Please fill me up. Dump you cum into me. Can I cum too? Wan' cum with you, please."
"D you know who I am now?" You whimpered, "Thought so- oh. I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming."
With one final thrust, the woman came inside you, ropes of cum shoot deep inside your womb, no doubt ensuring pregnancy. The sensation made you shiver, it almost being enough to unravel the coil in your tummy, but you held strong, fearing what could cum if you cum without permission.
"Gods, that felt good," the woman panted. "Last chance, honey. Who am I?" She asked continuing to fuck you like she hadn't just dumped a month's worth of cum.
"Last clue, make it worth it, darling. You have a secret crush on me."
Your heart dripped the same time your orgasm tore through uncontrollably. You screamed her name out as you came, your hands finding home in the woman's biceps.
"Wanda! Wanda! Wanda!"
The both of you panted, Wanda's hands moving off of your eyes. Her smirking face revealed to you, her soft gaze finding your blissed out one. Her fingers carded through your hair as the two of you stayed locked in a sultry haze.
"Good girl, baby. You did so well for me."
------------------
So, yeah....
#noncon?#idk how to tag this#mcu#marvel#avengers#wanda maximoff#lgbtq#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut
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Trafalgar Law + going down on him for the first time
pt 2 to this post
☁︎ Once again, I have hardly written smut before, this is only my second one so I apologize if it's bad
☁︎ pairing: Law x gn!reader (afab reader if you include pt 1, but no mention of gender here)
☁︎ wc: 1.7k
☁︎ cw: 18+ mdni, shy reader, oral (character receiving), praise, Law gets kinda silly at the end, no plot, all smut
You slept soundly through the night, only waking once. It was just enough to cuddle yourself closer to Law before drifting away again. When morning came, you surprisingly awoke before your boyfriend. When you stirred, he tightened his arms around your waist in his sleep, holding you closer. The hard-on that he ignored last night had disappeared while the two of you slept, but you could feel it again, pressing against your lower back. You suddenly felt much warmer, the desire to return his favor from last night returning. Sneakily, you shifted your hips just slightly to press against him further, creating just a little friction as you rubbed your butt against him.
His arms tightened around you again as he let out a muffled, “Mmhf. . .” his hips jutting forward against you.
You couldn’t help your sly smile, turning in Law’s arms to face him. Your movement woke him a little, his golden eyes cracking open sleepily.
”Morning,” you said softly, giving him a kiss that was just as soft.
”Morning,” he mumbled against your lips. His voice was thick with sleep, deeper and more gravelly than usual. Sexy.
”I was thinking. . .” You trailed your hands over his chest, still bare from the night before.
“Mmm?” His eyes were closed again.
”I’d like to return the favor from last night, if that’s okay with you.”
”Mmm. . .” The corners of his lips lifted in a sleepy smile, his eyes cracking open once more. He lifted his hand to curl under your chin. “That does sound like an appealing way to start my day,” his thumb brushed against your lower lip, “seeing those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
His words had you flustered and blushing, making you turn your face away from him in your shyness. His hand still on your chin, he guided you back to him with a low chuckle, meeting you with a slow, deep kiss.
It didn’t take long before the kiss became heated, hands exploring each other’s bodies and biting at each other's lips in hunger. When Law pulled your leg up to wrap around his hip, you took the opportunity to push him onto his back, straddling him. He let out another muffled groan as you ground into him, fervently grasping at your hips. The sound was music to your ears, and suddenly you were almost impatient to have him come undone at your touch. You angled your head to kiss his neck, and his head tilted to give you more room. You relished the subtle gasps and breathy sighs that left him as you nipped at him, pulling a deep groan from his throat when you bit more harshly. While you focused your mouth on his neck, your hand slowly trailed downward, down his inked chest, along his abdomen, until your fingers brushed against his v-line, just barely exposed by the waistband of the sweatpants he wore, low on his hips.
Those gray sweatpants had you under a spell. He had worn them around you before, on a few occasions. Each time, you salivated over him, trying not to be too obvious about it. If it wasn’t for your timid nature, you might have gotten on your knees for him in those sweatpants sooner.
None of that timidness was present now as you asked, “Have I ever told you how much I like these pants on you?” You lightly traced over his collarbone with the tip of your tongue, delaying his response.
”Haahh. . . You didn’t have to. Your staring isn’t as subtle as you think.” Hearing the teasing in his voice, you retaliated by biting down on his shoulder hard. The bite earned you a hiss from him, followed by a moan of, “Shiiiit. . .” You soothed over the bite with a caress of your tongue, then pulled away just enough to blow a soft gust of cool air over it, sending a shiver down Law’s spine and making him loose a shaky breath.
You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at his reactions, and attempted to hide your face in his neck.
“Something wrong?” he asked breathlessly.
With a slight shake of your head, you hummed a ‘no’, then pressed a kiss against his throat. You ghosted the tips of your fingers over the tent in his pants, interrupting him as he spoke. “You—“ he gasped softly, “you sure?”
“Mm-hmmm. . .” you hummed, now gently pressing your palm against his clothed erection. A low groan now left his lips as his hips bucked into your touch, head falling back. Feeling how hard he was, and hearing the delicious sounds he made, you were once again eager to have him in your mouth.
Your hands went to the waistband of his pants once more, hooking your fingers around it and tugging them down just enough for Law’s cock to spring free of the confines. You pulled away to look at him. He watched you eagerly, golden eyes lidded, chest heaving. His leaking tip rested against stomach, and you were almost surprised that he was even bigger than you thought. So the legends about skinny emo boys were true. You tried not to be intimidated by his size, knowing you would take what you could to please him.
Timidly, you wrapped a hand around his shaft, giving him a few gentle strokes. Law’s eyes fluttered closed, a deep, pleased sigh leaving him. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued to stroke him, giving a gentle squeeze. He let out a low moan, eyes opening again, looking at you almost pleadingly. You willingly obliged him, lowering your face to him. You let him go momentarily, and looked him in the eyes as you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock, making a show of flicking your tongue at the tip.
“Fuck. . .” he breathed. He continued to watch you as you copied the action once, twice more, then slowly swirled your tongue around his tip. Law’s low moans and breathy sighs continued, offering further encouragement. You took his tip into your mouth, giving it a gentle suck, then swirled your tongue around it once more, running your tongue over the slit, licking him like he was your favorite treat. You gradually took more and more of him into your mouth, taking as much as you knew you could manage.
Law’s fingers weaved into your hair, his hand resting at the back of your head. He didn’t push, just stroked his fingers through your hair, allowing you to please him as you wanted. “Look at me,” he breathed. You obeyed, still bobbing your head as your doe eyes took him in. His cheeks were flushed, mouth hanging open as he breathed heavily. “Fuck,” he moaned, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “You look so pretty like that. . . So good for me. . .”
His praises lit a fire in you, suddenly making you even more eager to please him. You took more of him, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat. Your head bobbed faster, a hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunted. “Just like that.”
Tears pricked in your eyes, but you didn’t care. You willingly choked and gagged on him, eager to get him to his release.
“So fucking pretty,” he gasped between moans. His continuing praises made you whimper. “Ngh, fuck. . . Don’t stop, ‘m gonna cum. . .”
Deep moans left him as he found his release, fisting the sheets at his sides. You continued to suck him off as his seed spilled into your mouth, milking his cock for all he had to offer. The bobbing of your head slowed with the frequency of his moans, until you finally pulled off of him. You sat up, giving him a timid look as you wiped the back of your hand over your mouth. He watched you through lidded eyes, chest heaving, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his lovely face. His eyes widened by a fraction when he saw your throat bob, swallowing his seed.
He asked, “How can you look so shy and innocent even when you’re swallowing my cum?”
“Sh-shut up.”
Suddenly, he sat upright, wrapping his arms around you before flopping down again, pulling you onto his chest and making you let out a surprised squeal. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your temple. You hid your flushed face in his neck, grumbling in protest. Law only chuckled, not bothering to argue. He nuzzled his face into your hair, a hand stroking it idly as the other rested on your lower back.
The two of you laid like that for a while, holding each other in peaceful, comfortable silence. You would have gladly laid with him for much longer, but a glance at the clock on the bedside table convinced you that it was time to get out of bed.
“I think it’s time to get up,” you mused. “We have things to do, Captain.”
It was his turn to object, tightening his grip on you and grumbling, “You can have the day off.”
You laughed lightly. “As nice as that sounds, I think that’s favoritism. The others won’t be happy.”
He pulled back to look at you, his face suddenly very serious. “Actually, I think you’re very sick. You should stay in bed today.” Unable to keep the facade for long, his face broke into a wicked grin. “I might have to conduct a full-body examination on you.”
Although you were unable to stop the blush that made its way back to your face, you smiled, rolling your eyes at him as you attempted to roll off of him. However, his grip on you was sure, not allowing you to move even an inch.
“See, you’re even burning up. I think you need to take the day off.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his playfulness, a side of him he didn’t show often. “I wasn’t that good, was I?” you teased.
“You were. In fact . . .” he brushed his thumb against your bottom lip, as he had earlier, “. . . I don’t think I’ve had enough of you yet.
The hungry look in his eye was enough to convince you to stay in bed a little much longer.
#one piece#op#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law op#trafalgar law one piece#trafalgar law#trafalgar d law#trafalgar law smut#traflagar law#trafalgar law fic#trafalgar law fanfiction#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar law cute#trafalgar one piece#one piece fan fic#one piece smut
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Aita for making my partner feel bad about sex?
NSFW Warning for this one, tl;dr at bottom. Sent in May 26th, 2024, goat to locate later
🐐
I (23FtM) have been with my partner “Jake” (25M) for about seven months now. We met at work, were friends for a while, and decided to start dating after we realized we had feelings for each other
Please let me say that Jake is a good boyfriend. He takes me out, we share big purchases, our families get along, and he’s always been super supportive of me in the ways he can be. I would also like to say that I haven’t medically transitioned yet and very much do NOT pass as a man. Despite this, he’s never misgendered me and he’s always been really good about making me feel masculine.
So not long into our relationship, I disclosed to him that I have vaginismus (or whatever it’s called), and it means that I can’t really be on the receiving end of penetrative sex until I do some muscle therapy for my downstairs. Like it hurts when I try to insert anything into myself, always has since I was younger. No tampons, no fingers, especially no penises. Jake said this was fine and that he had confidence in his ability to make me feel good in other ways
Well… it’s been six months and I’ve never actually finished. He bought me a little rose toy to use, but he never grabs it while we’re intimate and when he does try to use it, he fumbles with it and decides not to use it and that me doing oral on him would just be easier. I can understand that for a quickie, we won’t have time to find what buttons to push that’ll make me finish, but most of the time we’re home alone, my roommates are out, and we’ve got all night.
And before anyone says anything: I have brought this up before. First time was what led him to buying the toy. It’s a good toy, I guess, but it does what my fingers would already do and he never takes the time to learn how to use it properly without hurting me. Second time I brought it up, he got really apologetic and asked me to use the toy while he touched himself next to me. I think that was the first time I finished in proximity to his body in our entire relationship. It didn’t feel good. Several friends pushed me to talk to him again, so I did.
I went to his place, Jake lives with his mom still, and I was trying to find a good place to talk to him, but he kept talking about work or his sisters or would turn on an anime that he knew I liked. The day ended with me giving him oral and then me going home. It almost seemed like he was going to reciprocate, but he hesitated and rolled off me. It really hurt my feelings, but I chickened out of telling him since he looked so happy to spend time with me.
Yesterday, he came over and I was finally able to squeeze in a joke about him being a “pillow princess” and his reaction was to get worked up and initiate sex to “prove” he wasn’t. It went the same as every other time - oral - him receiving, fumbling with toy, and then giving up. But he was smiling like he had done something revolutionary in our relationship and I just. Stared at him. He asked me what was wrong and I said hadn’t finished. He had a sad face now and said that there really wasn’t “much I can do while you’re, you know” while gesturing to my genitals.
I felt like crying, but I didn’t want to be the boyfriend who started crying over every little thing, so I just agreed with him and we cuddled until I drove him home. Before meeting Jake, sex was never a large part of any of my relationships. Half because I’m on the asexual spectrum, half because of my condition, so this would be my first serious sexual relationship. I love Jake, I love him so much, he was there for my when my mom passed away last year, and he was there for my college graduation.
On the drive back, he was really quiet so I asked him if he was alright. He said he was really hurt by my pillow Princess comment and asked me if I could take it back, that it made him feel like a bad boyfriend. I apologized for him feeling bad, but I didn’t outright take back what I said. He got out of my car still sad and I returned home feeling like k was gonna throw up.
So now I’m writing this to see if I fucked up. Maybe I should have been more assertive with my needs, maybe I should be more compromising so that everyone feels good. Idk.
TL;DR: I called my boyfriend a pillow Princess because he’s never made me finish during sex while I’m always serving him. He got upset and said I was calling him a bad boyfriend. Aita?
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unfamiliar l lando norris x reader
request/summary – reader getting overwhelmed (in a good way) at all the care and love lando shows her, despite how she's been treated her whole life
author's notes – this is just pure fluff, ive had no motivation lately so please send requests!! 🙏
Lando and I are at his parents’ house for dinner, and I’m helping his mum wash the dishes and clean up afterwards when I accidentally drop one of the glasses. The glass shatters everywhere, and I immediately panic. I start apologizing profusely since usually my family would get mad if I broke something. Lando froze as the glass dropped onto the floor, and he immediately processed the way I was apologizing out of habit. He wrapped his arms around me to calm me down, speaking to me softly, “hey, hey, hey… its alright, baby… are you okay?”
“Yeah but I dropped the glass and it fell everywhere and now you’re gonna have to clean it up and-“ I begin to ramble on nervously. He squeezed his arms around me lovingly to cut me off. “I know, my love, I know. I heard when you dropped it, but are you alright? Did you get cut anywhere by the broken glass?”
I stopped as I lifted my head up to look at him. “…You’re not mad?” I asked quietly. “No, of course not… it was an accident. The important thing is that you’re okay, and you’re not hurt,” he says softly as his hand rubs my back lovingly in the hug. I frown, my heart aching from the care and consideration he was showing towards me. “I’m alright,” I mumble.
The frown on your face made Lando’s heart drop for a second. He knew you never had a great relationship with your parents, but it was only at this moment that he realized you weren’t at all used to the love he was giving you. He didn’t like the thought of someone ever getting upset at his girl for a small accident like dropping a glass, and he knew of course that she wouldn’t have said anything back. He sighs. “As long as you’re okay, baby, that’s what matters…” he says softly.
“I did get just a small cut, though,” I say quietly as I turn over my hand to Lando. He instinctively ran his finger over the cut, figuring out how bad it was. It was a small cut, but he couldn’t help but worry. “Doesn’t look too bad… does it hurt much?” He asks with concern lacing his voice in each word. I shake my head no as I say, “just stings a tiny bit,” trying to downplay the injury.
Lando brought me upstairs, sitting me down on the bed in his childhood room. He washed off the cut and wrapped a bandage around it, tending to me with extreme care the whole time.
“How come you’re not mad?” I asked curiously. He smiles softly as he looks up at me, speaking in a soft and gentle tone to not worry me. “I’m not mad because it doesn’t make sense for me being mad. It was an accident. You shouldn’t be yelled at for accidentally dropping a glass. I was just worried if you were hurt or not, that’s the only thing I care about.”
I frown as I feel his words pull at my heartstrings. “I love you, thank you for treating me like this,” I say softly. I look down at him, still kneeling in front of me with my hand in his. “I love you too, baby, and I’m always going to treat you like this. I’d gladly rather take some pain from you, just to make sure you’re safe and happy. It’s really just not worth it getting mad over something like this, especially not getting mad at you,” he says with the utmost gentleness.
“It’s just so…. different to what I’m used to. I never know how to act when you give me all this love, Lan,” I say as I interlock our fingers. He gives a sympathetic smile. He hates how you were trying to process the amount of love he was giving you. He knew you had always been so used to people giving you a hard time over minor things, so much so that being shown love was so foreign to you. His heart aches as he thinks about how hero desperately wants to change all of that and love you in every way possible. “I know, my love. Just try your best, because I’m going to keep giving you a whole bunch of love,” he teases.
I sniffled as my eyes became glossy with tears. “I’m- I’m sorry. I just- I love you so much,” I muttered as I tried to hold back my tears. Lando immediately wiped away my tears with the pad of his thumb, his touch gentle and as light as a feather. He lets out a sigh. “I love you too. So much. And don’t ever apologize to me for showing your emotion, hmm?” He says as he brushes a hand through my hair.
I sniffle once more, the sobs forming at the back of my throat. “I just- you show me how you care about me so much. and I don’t know how to react to these things. I don’t know how to show you I love and care about you just as much,” I say with a frown.
Lando squeezes my hand. “That’s okay.. Just do whatever you’re comfortable with doing, you hear me? I know you’re not used to all of it, so all I really need is you being comfortable with me. That’s it,” he says softly as he places a kiss on the back of my hand. At his words, I hold my arms wide for a hug, as his hands wrap around my waist, my face burrowing in the crook of his neck. “I’ll help clean up the mess, I promise,” I mutter into his neck.
Lando pulls back ever so slightly from the hug so he can see my face. “You can if you want to. But baby, why do you feel the need to do all this? I mean, yeah I want the glass cleaned up, but my mum and I can do that ourselves while you can just relax?” He asks in confusion.
“i just- i dont know. it always feels like i need to compensate with doing work for others so that they don’t get mad at me and they still like me,” I murmur quietly. “Aaaaand see… there is the problem. You feel like you need to compensate and do work for others so that they don’t get mad and stay with you. But you don’t have to compensate for me… or my mum… the two of us would be perfectly happy with you just enjoying your time here and not dealing with the cleanup…” Lando says as he tilts my chin up ever so slightly so I look at him in the eyes.
“But how are you gonna love me if I don’t do things for you guys?” I ask with a frown.
“I love you for who you are as a person, baby. It's okay for you to do things for me for the sake of showing that you love me or whatnot... but you don't need to do extra things just to make me or my mom like you, or just to make sure I don't leave you. Does that make sense?” He says softly. I fidget with my fingers nervously at his words.
“Babe, what's wrong...?” He asks with a small sigh.
“It’s just all so unfamiliar…” I whisper quietly into his neck. Lando traces circles into the small of my back as he hears this, “mhm, I know it is… I’m just trying to make it less unfamiliar to you. It might take some time, but I’ll be here the whole time so you can get used to it.”
He pulled back from the hug as he held my hand again, still making sure that he was gentle. “I’m just scared it won’t ever be familiar to me,” I confess in a hushed whisper.
Lando immediately frowned at my words, as he felt his heart ache a little, “hey, don’t be scared of that… because I’m going to take care of you the whole time, yeah? I’m gonna make sure that it eventually will be familiar for you. That it’ll be normal for you.” He rubs his thumb over my hand, looking at me with loving eyes. “You’ll get used to this… to being treated this way… to the love… I promise.”
I nod. “Thank you for taking care of me,” I say every so softly. “No need to thank me, just the bare minimum for my girl, hmm?” He says as he pulls me in for a short kiss. And just for that one moment, he needed me to feel like there was nothing wrong with all the love he was giving me, that there was nothing else I ever deserved in the whole world.
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LOST IN A ROOM
“boy, what did I tell you? love makes you a dead fool.”
— #RAFAYEL: LOVE AND DEEP SPACE
— PAIRING, GENRE, WARNINGS: rafayel x gnc!reader, mainly fluff, with a bit of flirting and banter, implied nsfw things but nothing specifically stated, no warnings!!
— SYNOPSIS: after a work trip, you return to a pouty and dramatic rafayel. you attempt to make up for your absence by surprising him with a sudden visit. but end up… having a different way of catching up.
— WRITER’S NOTE: long time, no post. hiii besties, i found this in my google doc’s and decided to finish it. i haven’t been too inspired to write lately so my bad. i stole the title from a song by rome hero foxes. uhhmmm not proofread per usual. enjoy and take care of yourself, mwah mwah ♡
It had been a while since you were able to go to Rafayel’s studio. It wasn’t intentional, it had just been a busy week. A week that was quickly reaching two and he wasn’t shy to remind you almost constantly.
“Aren’t you my bodyguard? You’re supposed to be checking up on me too.”
You rolled your eyes, hearing his voice vacant your head again. To make up for your absence, you decided to surprise him with a visit. You quietly opened the door, trying your best to sneak through. It was hard to do since it was so silent, the only sound being a soft flutter of a curtain from an opened window. You searched each room, anticipating Rafayel, but was met with disappointment. It wasn’t until you reached his living room where you saw him. He was laid out on his couch, his breath slow and calm. You walked closer, making sure you stayed silent. Your hands hovered over him before caressing his face with your finger tips.
“Hm… you’re cute even when you’re sleeping.” You scoffed, brushing your hand down his face. You moved a stray hair from his face, taking another second just gazing at him. “I’ll let you get your rest.”
You let out a soft breath, going to turn towards the door. You didn’t even make it a step further before, Rafayel quickly grabs your wrist, pulling you back into the couch causing you to fall into his arms. He wraps them around you before gently placing his head into the crook of your neck.
“Y-You were awake?” You gasped, flipping your head towards him. His eyes were still closed, with the same calm expression as before.
“Mm... no need to be so loud.” He grumbled, pulling you even closer. You were basically just his plushie at this point. “Surprised you even remembered that I’m alive.” His eyes remained closed but now accompanied by a pout. Your hands moved towards his, now realizing they were placed on your waist.
“Rafayel… I was busy. I did tell you this time. And I came here to surprise you. Surely that counts for something.” You softly sighed, brushing your thumb across his hand.
“Hmph.” He continued to pout. “What are you going to do to make it up for me?”
“Was coming over not enough?”
“Not at all.” He whined, finally opening his eyes. “That’s your duty, a long awaited one at that.” You shake your head and let out a small laugh.
“Fine. What can I do to make it up to you then?”
“Prove that you're sorry.”
“And how do I do that? I already apologized to you.”
Rafayel huffed, before slightly shrugging. “That’s for you to figure out. It wouldn’t be genuine if I told you what to do, now would it?”
You stayed there in silence for a moment, contemplating on what to do. You managed to turn around to face him. Rafayel made a face at you but continued to look at you curiously.
“You’re such a baby, you know?” You laughed, reaching towards his face. You slowly leaned in to kiss him, but instead placing it on his cheek.
“Now you’re just mocking me.”
“You’re so dramatic, Raf. Do you want a kiss that badly?” You teased, half joking. He suddenly pulled you even closer. You were almost on top of him at this point. Your leg rested on the top of his thigh.
“I do. Is that so wrong?” He asked, sliding his hand underneath your chin to the back of your neck. Your words were caught in your throat, unaware of this side of him. “Can I kiss you, Miss bodyguard?”
Your words continued to be stuck, only able to nod continuously. Rafayel slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. You melted against his softness and the warmth coming from him. You came to after a second wrapping an arm around his neck. You were hungry for more. His kiss was too addicting, you would have gotten mad if you could think straight. The soft kiss evolved into desperation and need. You softly bit his lip, in hopes that he’d slightly part them. And he did. He knew your body language all too well just from the encounters with wanderers.
“Now who’s so dramatic?” He chuckled, pulling away. You pout, looking up at him. “Come on, don’t you wanna tell me about your trip?” Rafayel smirked, sitting up straight. Your brows slightly furrowed. You’d forgot how cocky he could act.
“That can wait… stop acting so unaffected. I can see how flushed your face is! We have… catching up to do.” You muttered, pulling him back towards you. He returned without a second thought. Chuckling on his way down seeing your sudden switch.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel lads#lads rafayel#lads x reader#lnd rafayel#lnd x reader#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace oneshot#lads rafayel oneshot#divider by cafekitsune
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ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.
because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.
and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.
anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!
i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else
i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through
and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .
but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (:
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𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇♡𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄⁰²
summary. he promises to take good care of your flower, because you remind him of a rose.
content. highschool au, fluff, slowburn, childhood friends to lovers, umemiya may seem ooc, little angst.
wordcount. ~2.81k
❨📁❩ ← previous. ❨🗂️❩ → masterlist. ❨📁❩ → next.
“YOU'RE back.”
As you heard steps coming you closer, your gaze went to the side and you saw the boy you met weeks ago. This time he looked a lot healthier. A lot better. A lot prettier. You stared at him dead into the eye before observing him little by little while laying your watering to the side. Now you stood upright, your body turned to his direction. He looked happier. And you looked somehow emptier.
"Of course!" his voice seemed to be full of enthusiasm. "I'm here to pick up my rose."
His blue eyes shone brighter than any stars in the nightsky. His calm smile resembled the quiet moon. And yet his demeanor was similar to the sun. His presence felt alive. You did say if he looked healthier the next time you met, you'd give him one of your precious pink roses as a gift. Your flowers are important to you, you were pretty greedy about giving them away. You mean, you didn't promised it.
But you still wanted to at least keep your word.
"You remembered."
"Like I'd forget."
Whenever he smiled, it seemed like the sun was blessing him itself. Was it because the sun liked his silly smile? If it did, you would fully understand. His smile was beautiful. Really beautiful. Your eyes went back to the flowers and searched for the roses. And suddenly you remembered something. You can't give a rose away. Right. There was a reason why you planted them at first place.
"Right." you mumbled. "They're not available right now."
"What." his smile was replaced with a confused face. "Why?"
"I only planted six buds." you started. "For my sister's sixth birthday. Because she said she wanted roses to her sixth birthday. She's going to be a big girl now."
"Oh."
Your eyes darted back to him. He looked disappointed. Really disappointed. You almost felt guilty. For saying something and not keeping your word. But your little sister was still your priority number one. "Sorry." you apologized briefly. And suddenly, a smile formed on his face. Why was he smiling? He was weird. For what did he smile so happily after getting disappointed that bad?
"It's fine." was his response.
"Aren't you disappointed?" you didn't understand.
"Yes, I am. But it's for your younger sister, isn't it? Tell her I said happy birthday." he smiled. "But I still want a rose. Can you plant new ones?"
"Sure." you nodded slowly. "And I'll tell her."
"How long does it take for a rose to bloom?" he asked.
"Maybe three years. If you're unlucky then four—"
"Three years?!"
You winced at his loud voice. He looked surprised, and a bit shocked. "Yeah. Didn't you know? I think I have some buds in my backpack." you reached out for your red backpack and rummaged through it. "Found them." with that you took out some buds and placed your backpack on the ground again. "However, they need to be set in water for a while." you studied the buds before looking at him again.
"Let me help you!"
"Uhm... Sure I guess."
The smell of freshly-brewed coffee reached your nose as you snapped out of your thoughts. You stared at Kotoha's attentive hand movements while she served the elderly lady her afternoon coffee. "Kotoha-chan's coffee is the best in the town. Thank you, sweetie." the lady gave your friend the calmest smile before turning back to mind her own business to read her newspaper.
"You're exaggerating." a chuckle, which sounded pleasant in your ears, left her lips.
She quickly made her way back behind the counter to continue her work. The silence was nice. Enjoyable. The thing you like the most in this dine-in restaurant. Pothos was your second favorite place of all time after all. You sat there all day if you had some thoughts lingering in your mind. You looked down. The warm cup of cacao in your hands left a trail of savory smoke in the air.
"You seem distracted."
"And you always notice."
"It's not difficult to notice, [name]." she chuckled again while drying the glass. "What's wrong? Wanna talk?"
You watched her as she placed the glass on the table, moving forward to the next one while also having an open ear for you. "Don't know actually..." you started. "Actually. I really seem to... be quiet. I always listen to people's stories and keep my mouth shut the whole time. I don't know what to say. But if I stay quiet all the time, I'll fade into the background and feel forgotten. What if—"
"You're wondering what if the people, I hold dear to my heart, forget about me, right?" she finished your sentence.
"...Mhm."
"You're overthinking, you know?" a smile found itself on her lips, lightening up the gloomy mood.
" 'think so?" you looked up to her.
"Sure you are. I mean, it does depends on the person honestly. But the most of them really love people who listen to them. And sometimes they also feel annoying, because they think they get on your nerves too." her round amber eyes met [e/c] ones. "Maybe you should just leave few comments to make sure they know you're listening." her smile reminded you of his smile.
And her words calmed your thoughts down. "Thank you, Kotoha-san. Your advices are really helpful." you showed your gratitude with a small smile on your lips. It's a rare sight. You smiling. Your mouth-ends moving up. You showing some positive emotions. A shame that her brother missed it. "You think Hajime would forget someone like me?"
"Nah." she shrugged her shoulders slightly, the smile drops at the mention of her 'brother'. "If it would happen... He probably would be insane to."
This time the answer didn't satisfied you. You did trust her. Of course you did. But something in your head denies it. Your eyes went to your cup of cacao again. It's getting cold. Your drink is getting cold. The feeling of warmth left your hands, letting them feel a bit cold even though it's spring. "—How about you ask him yourself?" this suggestion lets you flinch a little as you looked up to her.
"I'd never—"
"Mhm. Sure, yeah." she rolled her eyes with a grin.
Out of nowhere the door was slammed open, letting the little bell ring. Your head immediately turned to side, shocked at the sudden intrusion. But you calmed down again, as you saw an overly excited man stepped a foot into the restaurant. "Speak of the devil." the owner sighed at the very familiar person who finally looked up from the door. "And stop slamming the door, Ume."
"Ko-To-Ha!~"
His excitment could be seen kilometers away. You shook your head and you stared at the man who opened his arms. "I missed—" the moment his eyes were set on you, he froze mid sentence. There you sat comfortably, on the stool right infront of the counter. "[name]-chan." he called out your name as he began to literally sparkle. "[name]-chan!" he screamed happier than ever and ran forward.
How could he not?
"No hugs." you furrowed your eyebrows slightly and placed your palm against his chest to stop him from wrapping his arms around you.
"Oh, how I missed the both of you! How jealous I am! I also want to laugh and giggle with you two." he beamed.
"We literally saw us each other yesterday." Kotoha and you answered simultaneously.
"Ah Kotoha, you look as cute as ever! I think all types of hairstyles suit you! Don't get me started about you [name]-chan!—" he started to ramble, only for you to shut his voice out of your
You only sighed again as your eyes landed on his companion, standing behind him. Short grey hair which was straightened back. Piercing green eyes. And the furin uniform. Compared to Umemiya's uniform, the jacket was rather short. "Nice to see you again, [lastname]-san." the annoyed and tired face was replaced with a polite smile.
"I only can say the same, Hiragi-san." you nodded. "We didn't see each other for while."
He only chuckled and began to tell you how tiring the leader can be while you listened quietly. Hiragi Toma, one of the few 'delinquents' you accepted. Sure you despise violence and most delinquents, but you learned that violence isn't always bad. And furin uses it for good reasons for the last two years. Can they even be called delinquents? Umemiya Hajime, the man who changed the perspective of a whole damn town.
Umemiya Hajime, the man who showed you another world.
A smile formed on Umemiya's lips, while he was watching the two of you. "I'm glad they understand each other." he turned to Kotoha with the biggest smile. "[name] doesn't need many people by her side. She'd even do fine with only you. But I enjoy seeing her be comfortable around my friends!" he sat down on the stool next to you while staring at his sister doing an omurice for him to eat. "One day I'll show her the world I live in—"
"—By the way. [name]-san wondered if you would ever forget her. Silly question if you ask me. But she wasn't entirely sure if it was true." the burgundy-haired girl broke through your thoughts once again. "How about you answer her?"
Not only hiragi stopped talking, you also stopped in your tracks. You slowly turned to the mature girl with hurt in your eyes which was hard to recognize. Only people you know long enough would notice the change on your face. "Huh?" Umemiya slowed down with his rant as soon as his sister interrupted him. "[name] asked?" he turned to you, confusion visible to your eye.
But the confusion turned turned to a sad puppy face. "[name] after all these years you spent with me. You ask me such a question?" he looked betrayed. You sweatdropped at first, before nodding your head slowly. A sob escapes his lips which made you deadpann. "You really..." the playfulness wasn't present anymore in just seconds, while he was looking at you with a serious gaze, yet he smiled.
"Do you doubt me?"
"What if I do."
"I don't know, but you must to trust me if I say I'd never forget. Because I honestly would never forget you."
On the inside you were dying because of heat and you're really lucky they couldn't see it on the outside as you heard his every word. How could you even have distrust if the person you're talking about is Umemiya Hajime? You felt a bit ashamed. Your eyes wandered around his face to see his features. "I'd be crazy otherwise." he chuckled and watched how red your ears got.
"And you make me go crazy..." you avoided his gaze at all costs with an embarrassed sigh and stood up to take your leave. "I'm leaving."
With that you took out your purse and left the money for your half-drunken chocolate milk on the table next to the now cold cup. You quickly turned around and wanted to step out of Pothos, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing your wrist. "Please wait until I'm down with my omurice. I want to accompany you home." as soon as your head went to Umemiya again, you could see how he grinned.
"..."
"Promise I'll finish it fast." he tried to convince you. "And you can drink up your chocolate milk without wasting your money!"
At the end you stayed. To make your money worth it. For the drink. Not him.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
"Bye bye, Koto'-chan, Hiragi-san." you waved your goodbye.
"Get home safely, yeah?" Kotoha smiles at you.
"Take care of her." Hiragi looked at his leader who nodded with a grin.
"I will! But you both also need to take care, okay?"
With that he turned his back to him, just like you and walked by your side. Every time he feels your presence beside him, it excites him so much. The bubbly feeling in his chest is killing him. Every time your hand brushes against his, it makes him going crazy. He can't possibly smile any seconds longer, because it's hurting his cheeks. Even if those are only accidental touches.
Umemiya Hajime can't keep himself from staring at you. You look like a woman out of a gorgeous oil painting. Everytime you set a foot into the same room as him, his eyes are glued on you. And if you catch his staring, you get easily embarrassed. Your ears always turn red. Or sometimes even your cheeks. It's like you're wearing the most expensive blush. And the way you bat your eyelashes at him.
He is close to touch you, wrap his arms around you and shower you with all of his affection, but of course he'll try to hold himself back. He doesn't want to make you feel comfortable. He knows that physical touch isn't your thing. But why are you making this so hard? The only thing he can do right now, is staring at you. And even if he'd bump into a street lamp, it doesn't matter.
"We're there." you said. He can hear jow you're taking out your keys. Your eyes wandered to him as soon as you opened your apartment door.
"..."
"Quit gawking at me."
"Can't."
Now you're hesitating to continue. "Why?" it felt dry in your mouth. You're preparing for the worst.
"Too pretty."
Your wide eyes, full of confusion, shot up to see if he's just joking. Oh. Umemiya is not joking. He's smiling, yet you can see a slight desire. You can only see it if you look closely, because he's always so good in hiding things. He's actually a bit of a sly man if you're gonna be honest. "Snap out of it already." you sighed and got into your apartment, while turning to face his direction, but your gaze was on the floor.
"Get home... safely."
Is it possible for his smile to widen at your rather shy behaviour? The silence is getting louder and louder with every second passing, making you quite uncomfortable. Umemiya looks at your ears that were turning red in the moment. His finger twitched at that. His hand moved up and reached out for you. Only for you to look up because of the silent awkwardness.
The first thing you saw how his hand stopped, centimeters away from your cheek. You blinked. One time. Two times, three times, four times, five— Your cheeks fired up immediately as you grabbed his wrist. He was also observing your features as he kept his mouth shut. Since when was he so quiet? Since when was it this awkward for the both of you? Or was it only unpleasant for you?
"..."
"...May I.. touch your face?" his question makes you go redder.
"...Mhm." you nodded slowly, your hand stayed around his wrist but the grip was loose.
He smiles again. This time, the smile was softer than the usual ones. It was different from what ever you've gotten before. This smile reminds you of the one from yesterday. Has he ever gifted someone this kind of smile? You watched him as he tucked your [h/c] hair strands behind your ear before his hand brushed against your cheek softly. The warmth of his calloused palm was really nice.
Until he pulled back.
"...Wait." you stopped him.
And with that you ran into your room, leaving him to let him stand there like some idiot. Not a minute after, rushed steps were heard as he watched how you stopped infront of him while panting a little. In your hand was a pink rose. "Take this." you pushed the rose gently into his hand. "It's my favorite. And it's only three days old... If you take care of it really well, it'll live eleven days more."
"Promise, I'll take good care of the rose."
"That makes me happy... See you, Hajime."
His eyes widened as you gave him a smile and closed the door. It was a small one, almost unseen by him. Such lovely lips you have. Oh how Umemiya wished for you to smile more. You're alluring. If you would give him a brighter smile, he would definitely freak out. If only you knew that you're pretty like the rose. You leaned your head against the door with a completely red face. You couldn't hold it in anymore.
"How... embarrassing." you muttered and closed your eyes.
"She's divine like you, you know?" he whispered to the rose you gave him just minutes ago. "Sorry buddy, but..." he smiled happily and looked at the door.
"She's prettier than you."
- NAN0KA [ may 31st, 2024 ]
#wind breaker x reader#hajime umemiya x reader#umemiya hajime#umemiya hajime x reader#wind breaker#hajime umemiya#anime#manga
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summary: you're in a secret relationship with your brother's bestfriend.
a/n: HI! i was tagged to do #cali's namless challenge created by @the-californicationist to celebrate her reaching 500k on ao3! congrats cali and hopefully you all enjoy what i cooked up:)) (make sure you guess who you think it's about in the comments lmao) ALSO this is actually way longer that it's supposed to be, so i apologize. i just can't summarize to save my life!
if you want to particpate.. check out cali's blog linked above for the rules!
18+ Content
wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form!
NSFW WARNING
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Crossing Lines
Heavy gray clouds obscured the sky, the trees and bushes were bending and whipping in the wind, rain was pouring down, splashing off the pavement. You peered out of the car window, you were resting your head on, observing rain droplets that slid down the window, listening to weather forecasters talking about the massive storm to come. You carefully observed the droplets, delicately choosing the one you thought would win. Silently, you cheered your drop on, but, alas, it was too slow.
You heard your parents talking in the front seat about the graduation you were attending. A military graduation to celebrate the recruits, your brother included, hard work and dedication through basic training. An outstanding achievement indeed. But something you had been dreading.
It wasn't because you weren't proud of your brother—no, no. It was because his best friend would be in attendance to watch him graduate. It might not seem so bad, but you had been secretly with him for four months and counting without anyone knowing. Though you hadn't really talked to him in a little over a month since he'd been doing some "top secret work," he would say, and service was terrible where he was.
"We're here!" Your mom chimed from the front seat, absolving you from your thoughts. You open the car door to immediately be met with raindrops falling onto your skin, offering you some sort of comfort.
You follow your parents closely as you all walk into the venue. Large tables covered in red satin tablecloths and large flower decorations were among the first things you saw. It was honestly quite beautiful. Flags hung slightly over the large arched windows, still giving you a view of the pouring rain outside.
You followed your parents to a table with a white nameplate in the middle with your last name on it. Taking your seat, you noticed a group of people hovering over the door you came in through, each greeting whoever came in. You tried to move your head to look at the person who walked in, but all the people obscured your view.
You sat with your hands in your lap, playing with the ring on your middle finger. "He's here, honey!" Your dad announced to your mom. You turned your head to see him waving to your parents, walking towards them. You hadn't seen him for a while, but, God, could he get your pulse to quicken just as fast as the first time you'd met.
He reached them, and your mom gave him a hug. "Were all those people greeting you?" she laughed out, playfully hitting his arm. "What can I say? I'm kind of a big deal around here," he joked as your dad brought him in for a hug, too.
You slowly stood up. "Hi," you quietly said, suddenly feeling shy. He looked down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. "My, my, what do we have here? I can't believe you came." He chuckled, bringing his arms out to hug you. "It's my brother's graduation. Of course, I came." You laughed, wrapping your arms around him.
"Fuck. I missed your laugh." He quietly grunted near your ear before he let go. You felt hot goosebumps travel down your arm at the roughness of his voice. You heard a female voice call your boyfriend’s name behind you; you turned to see a pretty brunette waving her hand in the air. The sight made your stomach drop. He nodded to her. "Scuse' me." He politely said, gently touching your mom's arm.
He noticed your soured expression, which you didn't realize you were making. He let out a soft laugh before pulling out his phone, pointing to it to signal you to take your phone out. You quickly pulled out your phone as he walked away, typing on his.
Peabrain: She's the captain's daughter. You're the only woman for me. Got that?
Me: good because i thought i was going to have to kick someone's ass. mostly yours though.
Peabrain: Ouch, baby.
Peabrain: I would never do that to you. Your brother would fucking kill me if I did.
Me: i would fucking kill you if you did.
Peabrain: I know. My tough girl.
You felt yourself heat up at the sentiment. "Is everything okay, honey?" your dad questioned. You quickly looked up to meet his worried expression. "Huh? Oh, ya, just a little hot." You picked up one of the graduate pamphlets lying on the table and fanned your face with it, silently cursing your boyfriend for getting you all hot and bothered.
❀・。.。* ❀ *。.。·* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *。.
The ceremony had been going on for about an hour, and there was definitely at least one more hour left. Though your brother had already crossed the stage, you had to stay and wait for the other graduates to walk.
You noticed your boyfriend sitting beside some other military personnel in the front. God, he was so hot. His hair was slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times. He was in a tuxedo with a red tie, and his legs were spread pretty wide, giving you a nice view between his legs. You looked up at his face to see his eyes were focused on you, a cocky smirk on his lips. Your eyes widened as you shifted your attention to the graduates walking across the stage.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, so you discretely reached for it and looked at it under the table.
Peabrain: Meet me in the bathroom.
Me: ya right.
Peabrain: Bathroom. You, Me. Now.
Me: i'm not listening. blah blah blah.
Peabrain: I will drag you in here.
Me: you wouldn't.
Peabrain: Oh, trust me, I would.
Me: fine. you're so needy.
Peabrain: You have no fucking idea.
So, that's how you ended up sitting on the sink of a cramped bathroom. "This fucking dress." Your boyfriend purred, gently pooling the fabric up around your waist. He connected his mouth to your neck. "What do you have against my dress?" You questioned, bringing your hand up to thread through his hair.
He brought his lips to kiss along your jaw until he reached your lips. "It's short. I could see your thighs when you sat down." He groaned into your lips. "Why were you looking that low?" You whispered, tone dripping with seducation. He didn't answer; he just grabbed the back of your head and pushed your lips onto his.
As you were kissing, his hand dropped to graze your lower thigh, slowly going higher and higher until he was grazing your cunt over your underwear. You let out a soft moan before pulling away slightly.
"We shouldn't be doing this here." You breathe out, lightly massaging the back of his head with your fingers.
"No, I agree. This is just despicable behavior." He stated as he slipped his hand under your underwear to draw soft circles over your dripping cunt. "Just despicable," he breathed into your ear. You let out a moan as you pull your hands out of his hair to grip his shoulders. "I mean, anyone could walk in." He said as he leaned closer, his lips hovering over your ear. "They could see my fingers in you." He whispered as his finger slipped inside you. "Fuck." You choked out, gripping him tighter.
"See you begging me for more." He lightly nipped your ear, carefully pumping his fingers in and out of you, grazing your sweet spot. You quickly connected your lips again, his tongue battling yours. You jump a little at the sound of a ding from your phone.
"Leave it." He said, gripping your jaw to bring your lips back to his. You nodded and continued kissing him. His fingers are now pumping a little quicker in you—another ding. You groan. "Let me just check real quick." He groaned and begrudgingly pulled his fingers out of you.
Stinky: Hey, sis! Where’d you go?
Stinky: The ceremony ended early. Mom and Dad want to grab some dinner. Food sucks here.
Me: hey! went to the bathroom rq. be right there!
He peered into the mirror to see who was taking your gaze.
"Mmh. Should we tell em' ?" He sarcastically said as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "You're an asshole." You roll your eyes as you carefully jump off the sink. You look up at him. "He could kick your ass, you know?" You matter-of-factly say. "Something tells me I could take 'em,' " He plainly states, wrapping his hands around your waist.
"You wanna come eat with us?" You question, raising your hands to gesture for him to bend down. He obliges as you bring your hand up to fix his hair. "Mhm. Are we gonna sneak away to the bathroom during dinner?" He questions, with a smirk.
You pull your hands down and rub them over his chest. "Ya.. and I'll even let you finger me under the table." You seductively say.
"Really?" His eyes brighten.
"No. Not really." You drop your hands as you let out a laugh.
"You're a cruel woman." He pouts.
"Fine. Maybe I'll let you play footsies with me under the table." You say as you turn to fix your lipstick in the mirror.
"Deal." He instantly says, bringing a smile to your lips.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
also, just tagging everyone on my taglist! so, this has nothing to do with who the story is about...
taglist: @artemis-b-writes @starsofang @sceletaflores @yuenity @minihotdog @theloneshadow24 @harpsinfinity @mrs-marc-spector @babygirl-riley @contractedcriteria @yyiikes @hilmiponken @bleached-punk @IMASLUTFORFICTIONALMEN @chonkaydonkay @lunars-somehow-alive @gowno1wysrane
#cali's nameless challenge#cali's challenge#happy 500k cali!#fic challenge#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#fanfic#cod mw2#modern warfare#call of duty x reader#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty fanfic#call of duty x you#cod x you#cod mwii#cod mw x reader#cod mw3#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod modern warfare
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thunders of rage
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.
w.count → 1.1k
genre → fluff, comfort
warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe
a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡
the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.
from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.
“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.
“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”
“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.
so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.
“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.
something stresses you out. bad.
“sure.”
chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”
“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”
the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.
“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.
“you should cool off too.”
and with that, chris left.
it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.
you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.
thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.
but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.
“baby, i’m ho—”
chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.
“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”
“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”
peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.
you felt like crap.
“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”
“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”
the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.
some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.
you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.
“kiss me.”
a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#stray kids comfort#skz comfort#bang chan comfort#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#bang chan imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bang chan scenarios#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#bang chan fanfic#stray kids au#skz au#bang chan au#stray kids drabbles#skz drabbles#bang chan drabbles#stray kids x you#skz x you#bang chan x you#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bang chan x reader#stray kids#skz#bang chan
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We outside with a Bad Boy~ (Satan Attacker Prologue React Part I)
I would say *spoilers* but this card has been out for a minute now so lol
FINALLY, A BIH POSTED THIS
So let me first say, thank you all for sticking around and waiting patiently for my reacts to start up again. Now that I've been getting my sources from the lovely mooties and oomfs with the addition that there's some down time lately for content with PB so now I can hurry up and post some shit before they start hitting us with Belphegor and the next chapter which I assume will be all at once.
A simple two-parter! Grab yourself a smol snackie snack and let's gooo~
Belial bae <3
So today is a rare day for Gehenna where the devils don't need to fight any angels and instead, everyone's doing their part and cleaning up and little and the nobles are doing their part as well!
As you see Belial/Jjyu here telling everyone to take it easy because it's pretty much a "day off".
So Paimon is strong asf because he picked up a pile of rocks which turned out to be a damn wall lmao
Thank you Zagan my babes, <3 that is a wall and he shouldn't pick it up
But nah Paimon can pick my fat ass up with one hand and just hold me up if he can pick up a damn wall.
Lol look at Leraye....being cute as per usual and then we get Astaroth warning everyone to be careful what they wish for when it comes to chaos returning quickly to Gehenna. Like I'm with Ro here...because enjoy your day where you don't have to fight through flying debris, rubble, and having those nice ass homes destroyed in a blink of an eye because Gehenna is literally a fucking war zone 90% of the time.
But where there's down time...there's chaos somewhere....
AND that's when we pan over to MC in Satan's palace....btw his conference room looks so official like I love it for Satan.
But we've got our three kings here and they've showed up for some reason. It's funny that we get to see why...
First...MC was asking a question about what's going on in each country as to why they're there at the same time. Levi hit 'em with the "stay out of grown folks business" and I wanted to swing on him immediately because no one asked you to get snarky.
he tests my patience every day i swear
Beel is just speaking plainly but MC brought up a good point where he's never away for a moment his ass is ALWAYS gone lmao
Bael is throwing punches in the air rn if he could hear Beel say this, I know he is sick of him
Yes. That is mine. All of it. Bring it to me.
*Ahem* wait what were we doing? Oh right ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
So Mammon is just confident that his nobles are handling it well while he's gone. I mean in the first couple of chapters we see that it's clearly Eligos and Valefor holding down the fort since Bimet goes everywhere with him.
I love how Sitri is just always annoyed as hell when it comes to people gathering around MC like this. But I mean I don't blame him because why are all of them there?
So Beel just straight up says he came there to go on a date with MC (he's so cute I love him, where we going bae?) and then he proceeds to grab them by their waist (gawdddddd) and then he does his thing where he's sniffin' up on their clothes.
we know damn well he has money he just spends it too much lmao so the buying clothes thing would definitely happen
FORAS BBY HI :D
so he whisks MC over to Levi, and he apologizes for grabbing them so suddenly. like i feel we don't deserve Foras because he's so nice and soft and I just want to squish him.
So Levi wants MC to come to Hades for a serious test reason (as if Levi we're on to you) and Beel is like ah so you wanna go on a date too. (clocked him that's most likely why lmao) and Levi gets irriated but he doesn't hang him.
I have my own theory on why he makes empty threats with the kings, and it's mostly because he likes interacting with them and doesn't really want to hang them unless they really piss him off. So empty threats are his communication with them and that's why they all keep calling him "Levi" for short lmao
So Mammon comes up with his reasons for having MC, and he says he's happy to see everyone get along and wishes the other three were there (so yeah I would assume he gets along with all the kings since he wants to be around them) and he calls Bimet forward. So my boujie noble is here saying that since Mammon is a pacifist he just wants to pay everyone for allowing MC to come to Tartaros since the country is swimming in money and they can afford any price tag. Proceeds to then say low key everybody broke asf so don't even try.
Levi and Foras take that personally as you can see them being irritated. LMAO
Bimet is always gonna call someone a broke bitch it's a given.
Beel is so cute I swear because he literally does not care about what's going on with what the other kings said. As far as he's concerned MC is going on a date with him and everyone else has to wait their turn.
"That's fixed"
Damn right it is, like, you tell 'em Beel <3
Okay so Levi got some hands with this clapback because he said that with no remorse and with the quickness.
So imagine how tall Mammon is right, imagine that the room shook when he stood up like that and looked down at Levi.
He's smiling so he's not even being threatening he's just like :D hey Levi real quick...
So Mammon is basically telling him, that he needs to act correctly because MC belongs to Tartaros and therefore he needs to respect their wishes to come with him to spend the day together. Levi of course is irritated again because everyone keeps cockblocking him.
Look at this sneaky little devil, being all like "there's gonna be a war in this room so let's go" as if he didn't cause any of that by agitating Levi in the first place lmao (granted Mammon also has been blocking Levi too)
What's weird is that Mammon and Beel have been blocking Levi but Mammon hasn't really directed any of that energy toward Beel at all so it feels like a strange dogpile on Levi. But honestly it's tension all around this room to where MC is feeling a certain way about it and feels bad that they can't be in multiple places.
I love this banter so far between them because this is truly how they interact when it comes to claiming MC and it's going to be a real treat when the other kings start getting involved.
SO this ends part 1. See you all in part twooooooo <3
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb beelzebub#whb leviathan#whb mammon#whb screenshots#whb attacker cards#whb stories#spoilers?#satan's showing up next but ya'll knew that probably
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hello!! i love you writing btw and i have an idea, tmi but i’m currently facing an online perverted stalker (he got me feeling scared) so i was wondering how the LnD boys would react to a reader facing the same issue T^T
if you don’t want to write for all the boys, just xavier is enough! thank you so much if you do decide to write this
Knight
Dude, I’m so sorry this is happening to you :(. I’ve had a couple stalkers before, not fun at all. Hope you’re safe 🩷
Warning: Stalking
You don’t know how he got your number. At first, it was strange messages about your hair. How pretty you looked in the sun. If the pancakes you had at that cafe were good. And that maybe you should both get some sometime.
But…Who was this person texting you?
You’ve never texted back. But that didn’t deter him from texting you more.
I love the way your hunters uniform looks on you.
Have you eaten today?
You looked lonely on that walk..
You were a strong hunter, everyone knew that. But the fact he seemed to know everything going on in your life at every waking moment started scaring you. And the worst part is, you could never find that fucker.
No matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find a lead.Just people minding their own business. Was he tracking you? Was it your phone? But this was your work phone. So how was he stalking you—
“Are you alright?”
You looked up to see your boyfriend’s concerned face. He had taken you on a date to a local cafe for some coffee and egg tarts, but you seemed…distracted. Your fingers strummed anxiously, your bottom lip raw from how hard you’ve been biting it, and your eyes seem to dart this way and that looking for something. Scared of something. He’s never seen you so frightened before.
“Is something wrong?”
Do you tell him? Yes, he was your boyfriend, but he was so busy with work. And it’s just a stalker, you didn’t want him to think you were weak…
The sound of your ringtone made you jump. It was another text. From him. With a shaking hand, you pick up your phone and read it.
Bet he won’t make you cum like I would.
Hypersensitive to your feelings, Xavier snatched the phone away, eyes narrowing when he read the text.
“Who is this guy?”
You shake your head, signifying that you didn’t know. He scrolled up, scanning the countless texts this man has sent you, each one getting more and more graphic.
Xavier gets up abruptly, extending you his hand. “Let’s go.”
You nod, placing your hand in his, feeling just a bit safer as he guides you out the cafe with an arm around your shoulder. He takes you home, dropping you off at your apartment, pocketing your work phone. “Take tomorrow off. I’ll handle this.”
His tone leaves no room for debate so you can only nod and agree. Xavier’s countenance softens as he gives you a reassuring smile and leans over to kiss your forehead. “Don’t worry. Soon all these troubles will fade away like a bad dream.”
You had no choice but to trust him.
~~~
The next day, Xavier jumps through your balcony window after work, still in his Hunters uniform. Like a knight in shining armor. It startles you, but he only smiles, walking over in proud strides, greeting you with a kiss. “Hello, my love. You have nothing to worry about now.”
You give him a slightly skeptical look, but Xavier answers your confusion by placing your work phone in your hand. There was one notification. An apology from your ex-stalker. Tearing up with relief, you look into Xavier’s eyes, asking if it was true. He gives you a warm smile and nods.
“B-But how?”
“I have connections.” Xavier shrugs. “And access to things you don’t. But…Promise me that next time you’re having trouble that you’ll come to me for help? I can’t stand seeing you so scared…”
You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him.
“Deal.”
#⭐️l&ds#☀️l&ds#love & deepsace x reader#xavier x reader#xavier lnd#xavier lad#xavier lads#xavier love and deepspace
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Hi :3 I'm the anon who asked if we could check with you if you received our requests! I wanted to be sure! Did you get a request? It's headcanons where WHB Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan, Beelzebub, and Mammon react to his gn crush being in love with him so much that they kissed him on the lips? They took a moment to realise & apologised profusely though! I'm 26! Sorry I forgot to add my age in my request 😅 Thanks!
It's ok. I didn't see the very first request you asked me to check, but I saw the one sent to me just a few minutes before this ask. I'll just write on this one because it has both the request and the age :3
The Kings React to Their Crush Kissing Them on The Lips (HC)
Pairing: Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Lucifer x gn!reader (separate)
Warning: suggestive
Summary: one beautiful day when the sun that Barbatos praises everyday was shining brightly on the sky, a certain human subconsciously kissed the devil king that they love because they love him so much that they can't stand it anymore. When they came to their senses, they got embarrassed and apologized profusely with a blush on their face.
Satan
He doesn't let you finish the apology, he kisses you back, with his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. His kiss is so aggressive and full of passion that it will leave you breathless after your lips parted ways.
It doesn't stop there. Even though he's the king of wrath, he's quite greedy when it comes to kissing the one he loves. He will give you another kiss that will also take your breath away.
Lifts you up and princess carries you to his room or somewhere more private, where he can monopolize you without interruption.
"There's nothing to apologize for. You should enjoy it some more. You are currently in Hell."
Mammon
The kiss happened when he was carrying you. Otherwise, there's no way you can reach him, unless you are very very tall yourself.
"Master, why are you apologizing? I'm yours. You may kiss me how many times as you like." He says while smiling as you. You can see a tinge of red on his cheeks as he says that.
He definitely wants you to give him more kisses, on the lips, of course...and elsewhere.
Leviathan
Widens his eyes in surprise
He likes it very much but he will never admit that.
Finds it cute that you are apologizing profusely to him.
Lifts your chin up and returns the kiss to your lips.
"Your face now is not bad." Levi says and leaves while you are still fluttering and can't function.
Beelzebub
Licks his lips
You gave him an appetizer, you can't just apologize and that's it, he demands a full-course meal.
"It's time for a full-course meal." Beelzebub declares as he takes you to somewhere more private before you could finish the apologies.
To Beelzebub, he knows that you have not completely adapted to Hell. But he hopes that one day, you can kiss him without reserve.
Lucifer
Another giant king. The kiss happened when he was sitting down and enjoying his tea. You just came out of nowhere and kissed him.
Kisses you back and bites your lips right after he lets you finish your first apology.
Smirks as you look back at him in shocked.
Gives you two choices: either go all the way with him at somewhere more private, or sit on his laps for the whole day.
The illusion of free choice
But don't worry, he will heal you up. He destroys you but he also loves you.
Hope you like it :3
#what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb headcanons#whb satan#whb mammon#whb leviathan#whb beelzebub#whb lucifer#whb x reader#suggestive
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imagine u n emily cooking together on ig live and everyone loves it when ur telling her off, she’s always getting in the way, or just straight up being a menace LMFAOOKO
FAVORITE ANNOYANCE | e.engstler x reader
prompt: emily being really fucking annoying while y'all are trying to cook.
author notes: i need to write for more basketball players so here you go taytay 🩷 enjoy it!
contains: emily engstler x shorter!reader, fluff, emily needs her ass beat, annoying as a love language, bad pizza making describing, inspo from this tiktok
"heyy guys!" you say, setting up your phone against a vase on the kitchen island. emily have just got back from practice and was obviously starving so she begged you to cook. you obliged but only because she has to help you. what a dumb idea that would end up being.
you squint your eyes as you look at the number of people coming into the live. emily comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. she pecks the side of your face before saying, "hi babe. hi chat."
"ew, don't say chat. you sound like some teenage streamer," you make a face of disgust before laughing. emily just shrugs. turning you to face her instead of the phone.
"but baby, that's what you call it," she blinks at you. acting confused until you stand on your tippy toes to peck her lips. emily pecks you back, licking her lips afterwards before looking at your phone screen. you move away from the kitchen island to go to the fridge. your body barely still in frame. emily looks at the comments coming through on the live, chuckling at a few.
"what we about to do? cook-" before emily could finish her sentence fully, you chim in. coming into the frame fully, holding the tomatoes needed to make the pizza sauce. "we are about to cook because emily was starving so bad and was just so hungry. go ahead, tell them what you told me when you came home," your tone sounds annoyed but there is obvious fondness underneath.
"aye, the chat said stop being mean to me," emily crosses her arms across her chest as she looks at you.
"the chat should be on my side."
"thought chat was for teenage streamers?"
"dear god, be quiet before i don't cook and go to bed. you can do this all on your own if you want."
"what? babeee, noo," the american player moves to pull you close by the waist. leaning down to kiss the top of your head; a usual emily apology. obviously you accept it. a bashful smile on your lips as you try to push her away but those muscles of hers aren't just for show, keeping you close easily.
emily sighs before shaking her head, "okay, chat. when i came home i begged my beautiful amazing so spectacular girlfriend to cook for me and cried when she said she didn't feel like it. even though i know how to cook, but it's just better when she does it." the confession makes the live explode with comments. with most making fun of emily (lovingly) and some relating to the feeling of wanting your girlfriend to do things for you.
a playfully smug smile sits on your lips, "there. she admitted it guys, she can't live without me."
"i didn't say all that.."
"i will stab you with this knife i'm about to grab," you gesture to the knife block on the counters behind you two. emily immediately starts talking to the chat, "i told y'all she's always threatening me."
"only when you're bad, babes," you chuckle. getting out of her grasp to grab two knives from the knife block. setting one down in front of emily, slapping her hand when she tries to grab it.
"no touching until i get the cutting boards," you set down your knife. opening the counter to grab two cutting boards (all while emily stands there with her arms crossed). putting them onto the island, one in front of emily and one in front of you. then you grab the tomatoes, setting them near your phone. not too close though so you two can still see the comments coming in.
"now you can touch."
emily and you get into a small routine of cutting the tomatoes. answering questions at the same time with the basketball player answering most of them.
"i don't know who keeps asking what we're cooking, but guys c'mon now.. i said it so many times. we're making pizza," emily sighs. halfway through with her tomato pile, she decides it's the best time to bother you while you're focused on finishing yours.
"babe, chat said why is my hair up even though i'm in my own home. should i tell them how you hate my hair and told me you would cut it off if i bought it anywhere near your kitchen?" she smiles at you like she didn't just say the most out of pocket lie ever. you give her a warning glare, not even answering her before going back to cutting. however, of course emily couldn't be satisfied with that. she needs a reaction so she starts to poke you in the shoulder.
"babe"
you don't answer her.
"babe"
another glare.
"babeeee."
"all i know is that if you keep touching me, i'm going to cut off your hand. now stop being childish and finish chopping those tomatoes before nobody will be eating tonight," you finally answer. slapping her hand away. she doesn't even flinch, just smiling.
"my girlfriend is being mean to me again." she turns her attention to the camera, a great relief to you. obviously the chat comes to her defense again but you tell them off by threatening to end the live all together.
the two of you continue to make the pizza. eventually you get out the small roll of cheese out of the fridge, forcing emily to grate it. while you smash the tomatoes up for the sauce.
emily is still answering more comments and she's having fun with it too:
ilovelesbians178 who do you wish would visit you more?
"hailey. that blonde chick never come over here, but it's okay, i know she's all superstar now."
emilysdutchbraids is your natural hair color actually blonde or what
"uh, i always say my hair is naturally blonde with dark roots but i might be lying.. nobody gotta know."
y/n&emilyop why is your tall strong ass the one grating cheese while y/n's tiny self is smashing the tomatoes?
emily starts laughing so hard that you look over at her. she gives you a look back before shaking her head, "yeah, nah, i don't know why i'm the one grating cheese. this is really not a good fit for me, huh?"
you look at her again, your brows furrowed as you stand there confused.
"ems, what are you talking about?" your arms are crossed across your chest. you come closer to her, looking at your phone to check the live comments. emily tries to turn you away from looking at the screen, laughing, "nothing, baby. people just don't get why your tinsy pinsy self is smashing tomatoes while my giant self is grating cheese."
the playful mocking in her tone makes you gasp. quick to slap her shoulder, she lets out an ow!
"babyyy, i didn't do anything," her tone sounds sad but emily is literally smiling at you and is so close to laughing that you can hear in her voice. "i was just reading the comments," is her excuse.
you slap her shoulder again before moving away from her. "yeah, sure. you're so innocent and totally didn't read it out on purpose. shut up and make the dough since you're so big and strong," you get out the ingredients needed or at least try to as emily follows you around the kitchen like a lost puppy. if you're trying to grab the oil out of the cabinet? she's blocking it. you're trying to get the yeast out? again emily is there blocking it. you try to push her away, hitting her on the shoulder again but she always just laughs.
"i get way worse fouls in games than that little hit, baby," she smirks at you. normally that smirk would be so attractive but you are so blinded by irritation but right now you are this close to kicking emily out of the kitchen.
you decide to go a different route than hitting. going straight for her stomach as you tickle her. emily nearly screams in surprise, almost knocking over a bunch of stuff, you two should have been cleaned, off of the counter as she tries to get away from you.
you stick out your tongue at her once she gets away. coming back over to your phone to check the comments.
"emily acts like a bad ass kid. oh, yeah, we all know that," you say. giggling once emily comes back close to you, her arms crossed across her chest.
"and i don't know why she's next to me right now trying to manipulate me into saying a compliment. you can cross your arms until the day you die, miss pretzel," you sass. laughing once she tries to tickle you but you dodge out of the way.
"babe, it's not fair! you got me!"
"you were in the way!"
"nuh uh."
"nuh huh!"
emily lets out a long sigh, frowning at your phone screen. "my girlfriend literally hates me right now guys," she says.
"do not. now be quiet and help me finish making this pizza. it's getting late." emily listens to you, finally taking the cooking seriously.
it takes way quicker now to finish up making the pizza that emily is acting like she got some sense. finally, emily moves away from the island so that she can slide the pizza in the oven while you talk to the live.
"alright guys, we are about to go lay on the couch and wait for this pizza to cook. emily has drained all of the energy out of me so i'm ending the live here. love you guys! thanks for paying attention to emily's annoying ass and me." emily is able to get in a wave before you cut off the live. shaking your head as you turn to face her. leaning against the kitchen island.
"what is it, baby?" she comes close, grabbing onto your hips.
"you're sleeping on the couch tonight," you say. leaning away once she tries to kiss you. easily getting out of her grasp this time, starting to walk over to the living room. emily still stands in the kitchen with her arms now crossed across her chest.
"and you can stop doing that crossing your arms across your chest shit! it doesn't work, baby," you shout, looking over your shoulder at her.
author notes: this was actually mad fun to write 💪🏽💪🏽 hopefully you liked it because i put some effort into it.
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
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