#and not really mentioning much else about it
Text
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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On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.
One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.
For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.
He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.
“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”
But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.
So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.
The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.
"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you.
"On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory."
...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."
More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.
"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards.
So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."
You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.
We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.
"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."
And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!
So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.
For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.
But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.
You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.
For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.
For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.
But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.
And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.
"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."
Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...
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I need more season one rafe fics please! I love your writing!! Also, last fic was amazing! Tbh I'm not a fan of #her ( yes I'm a hater)
Midsummers || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: It was concerning stumbling across your boyfriend and JJ fighting, but what was more concerning was his comment about Kiara.
Warnings: swearing, mild fighting? if there’s anything else lmk
Word count: 1,425
A/n: my summaries are always so shit 😭 anyways…. this was so much fun to write 😭 if u want more s1 rafe lmk and send thru requests!!!
MASTERLIST
Divider by @yoonitos
“Rafee,” you squeal, feeling his hands firmly grasp your ass, igniting a wave of pleasure that you struggle to contain. His lips trace a heated path along your neck, only intensifying the sensation and making it harder to stifle a moan. “It’s fine, no one’s coming here,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring as it mingles with your mounting desire.
A sudden knock at the door makes Rafe groan in annoyance. “What? We’re kinda busy here!” he yells out, his frustration evident. Undeterred, you press a trail of kisses along his jaw, your lips trailing down to his collarbone, trying to distract him from the interruption.
Topper and Kelce walk in making you huff in annoyance, pulling away from Rafe, who glares at their direction. “Seriously, guys?” you mutter, irritation clear in your voice. “Sorry—uh—JJ just walked in,” Topper stammers.
At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s expression darkens, and he quickly rises to his feet. “What the fuck is that pogue doing here?” he spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. Without waiting for an answer, he glances at you sharply and commands, "Stay here." With that, he storms out of the room, his frustration palpable. You watch as they leave, leaving you alone. With a huff, you get up and begin wandering around the room, trying to find something to entertain yourself.
~
Rafe and his friends race through the island club, their eyes sights set on JJ. He darts through the crowd, but they close in on him, finally cornering him in the locker room. Kelce moves swiftly, seizing JJ and locking him in a tight headlock. JJ struggles, but Kelce’s grip is ironclad. "Hold him still," Rafe commands.
Rafe smirks, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "What do you think? A 4 iron, right?" he asks his friends playfully as they all chuckle. "Keep his head still, yeah, Kelce? I'm gonna line this up." Rafe adjusts his stance, mimicking the motion of a golfer about to take a swing. JJ, despite Kelce’s suffocating grip, manages to choke out, "Very Rafe of you. Five on one?"
"If you could please stop talking. It's very disrespectful. I'm trying to hit a ball, alright?" Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and irritated as JJ continues to struggle. He gives a disapproving shake of his head. "Hey, learn your etiquette, my friend." His voice drips with condescension as he lines up his imaginary shot, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.
~
As the minutes tick by, your boredom intensifies, and you decide to defy your boyfriend's request. Leaving the room, you set off in search of Rafe. It doesn't take long before you hear his voice echoing down a hallway.
Rafe snorts derisively as he examines JJ's bruised and bloodied face. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look a lot more like your dad—" His sentence is abruptly cut off as JJ spits directly into his face.
“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling your heart rate quicken as the scene unfolds before you. "Rafe?" you call out, stepping forward. Your eyes lock onto JJ, who is trapped in Kelce's grip, his expression defiant despite his situation.
As you approach, Rafe wipes his face and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him. His grip is firm and almost possessive, a clear display of both his irritation and protectiveness. You can feel the tension radiating from his body.
"What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the room," he mutters against your head, his voice low and angry. You shrug, unable to find the words to explain your disobedience.
You glance at JJ, who despite his predicament, meets your gaze with a steely resolve. His eyes flick between you and Rafe, and for a moment, a silent communication passes between you. The air is thick with tension, a volatile mix of anger, defiance, and barely contained violence.
Rafe’s friends stand around, their faces a mix of amusement and anticipation. Kelce maintains his grip on JJ, his muscles taut with the effort of holding him still. Rafe’s irritation is palpable, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he stares down at JJ.
"Y'know, I never understood why you're dating him, Y/n," JJ says, his eyes raking over you. A scoff escapes your lips as you feel Rafe tighten his hold on you. "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tilting your head slightly in challenge.
"Well, isn't it obvious?" JJ chuckles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You need a man, but he's high off his ass every fucking day. That's not very manly, don't you think?" His words hit you hard, and your face falls. "Are you trying to get killed pogue?" Rafe growls, pushing past you to storm up to JJ.
“Rafe, it’s not worth it,” you whisper softly, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. But Rafe’s jaw is set, his muscles taut with rage. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and a man walks in. "Gentlemen!" he announces. Kelce immediately releases JJ, shoving him towards you, but Rafe moves quickly, pulling you out of the way just in time.
"Is there a problem here, guys?" The security guard scans all your faces. "Pardon me, officer," JJ quickly interjects, trying to regain control of the situation. "No, there's not an issue. I just—actually, yes. No, there is an issue."
"Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?" JJ continues, his voice trembling slightly with mock seriousness. You watch in amusement as Rafe scoffs at him.
"Blatant disrespect for private property—" JJ starts again, but Rafe cuts in "Yep," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "—I'm in violation of all kinds of shit, sir."
The security guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "But these young gentlemen..." JJ begins, reaching out to adjust Kelce's wonky bow tie, but Kelce aggressively pushes him away.
"Don't touch my shit," Kelce snaps, his tone sharp with irritation. JJ stumbles back, caught off guard. "...Uh, caught me, sir, and they're about to take me away," JJ continues, trying to regain his composure amidst the tension in the room. Your head begins to ache from the sheer amount of talking he's doing.
"And that's what you should do, escort me out of here. You got me," JJ says, extending his wrists as if offering them up for arrest, a sardonic grin playing on his lips. You all watch in amusement as he puts on a show for the security guard.
"Come on," the guard says, pulling JJ along with him. "All right. Fix that tie, son," he adds, glancing back at Kelce. JJ turns to Rafe with a smirk, "You're looking spiffy too."
"You powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ taunts, addressing Rafe and his friends before being led away. Leaving your side, Rafe hollers out, "Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue!" The words hang in the air, and your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity of his comment.
In a split second, JJ breaks free from the guard's grasp and charges towards Rafe, but Kelce is quick enough to stop him from getting any closer. "You think I'm afraid of you, bro?" JJ shouts, his voice filled with defiance as the guard yanks him away once more.
"Hey! Safe travels back to the cut," Rafe calls out with a smirk on his face, clearly unfazed by JJ's threats. "This ain't over!" JJ shouts as the guard shoves him through the door, his voice echoing down the hallway.
"Hey, hey, it was really nice seeing you again, JJ!" Rafe's voice echoes down the corridor, breaking the tense atmosphere that hangs thickly in the air. He turns, a grin playing on his lips, only to catch your unimpressed expression.
"What, baby?" he questions, his smile faltering slightly as he moves to embrace you, but you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. "The fuck was that for?" Rafe's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of your sudden reaction. The other boys shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Rafe.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, your frustration bubbling to the surface. Rafe's expression shifts from confusion to concern, his brows knitting together in worry. "What?" he responds, his voice tinged with confusion.
"Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue?" you spit out the words, your tone dripping with venom. "I said that to piss him off, I was fucking joking, wasn't I?" Rafe protests, seeking validation from his friends, who quickly nod in agreement.
"Ha. Ha. Funny joke, Rafe. It had me rolling on the floor," you retort sarcastically, your tone laced with bitterness as you push past him, the fabric of his shirt grazing your fingertips. "Y/n," Rafe starts, reaching out to you, but you cut him off with a sharp glare, your eyes flashing with anger.
"Don't fucking talk to me, dickhead," you say, your voice cold and cutting as you storm away, leaving Rafe and the boys in stunned silence.
#fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#obx#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks x reader#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe obx#obx fic#obx imagine#obx x reader#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey fanfiction#s1rafecameron
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not her
pt5
warnings: swearing, underage drinking, am*lia mentioned, shits about to go down, making up ig, truth being told, hella angst, comparing, poc!reader friendly, am*lia humbling matt
taglist
a/n: the amount of HATE am*lia has received since last chap and bound to receive more ☹️
PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~~ NEXT CHAPTER
(not proofread)
~
“she what?”
(same day matt and amelia fucked, but for y/ns pov)
y/ns knees curled into her chest, her cold tears streaming down her face, pricking her skin with the not so gentle reminder that this all actually happened, that that all really went down, that her boyfriend left her for some fuckin ed sheeran lookin asshole.
her chest felt like it was going to collapse, she couldnt breathe. it physically pained her to breathe in, and breathe out. despite needing to, she just couldnt.
she couldnt find it in herself to pick herself up from this dirty ass floor, or to go after matt and beg him to stay, or to at least, at the most, stop crying over a trashy man.
y/n knew she didnt derserve this, she knew she was better than crying on a dirty, dusty floor over a boy—that she dated for two years, she knew that she was and deserved so much better than what state matt left her as, looking as if he had no remorse, gave no fucks about her or this relationship he flushed down the drain so easily.
a sob ripped from her throat, pulling her from her overwhelming thoughts and back to what her insides felt, her stomach curled and twisted uncomfortably, her head pounded with an ache she wouldnt wish on anyone, she was in so much physical pain, yet all she could focus on was matt and how she’d live live without her boyfriend being by her side—how different could it be? he wasnt by her side ever since he laid eyes on amelia, it’d just be like another normal day.. just with a great amount of pressure on her shoulders and an overwhelming urge to cry.
y/n smooshed her face between her knees, letting her loud sobs to be loud in the muffled encasing of her knees and thighs, without being paranoid someone would walk in and find her bawling on the floor.
her heart hurt to pump the blood it needed inside her body, it hurt to use the sole purpose of her lungs, it hurt to open and close her eyes as they swelled with tears, it hurt her head to even think, all she wanted to think about was anything but matt, but all she could think about was matt, why couldnt it be amelia? why couldnt y/n be mad at amelia? amelia did everything wrong, she ruined everything,
but she didnt, matt had the choice to ignore amelia, he had the choice to tell her to ‘fuck off’, to push her aside and keep his focus on y/n, yet he didnt. he chose amelia, of course he chose amelia, why else wouldnt he? she was pretty. she had everything y/n didnt, she had pretty green eyes compared to the ugly, dark brown eyes of y/ns, amelia had a nice smile, compared to y/ns crooked teeth and strange upward of her cheeks.
y/n wasnt her, she never would be.
~
y/n had finally found the willpower to pick herself up from the floor after hours of just sitting there, her cries eventually stopped and dried on her cheeks, leaving an icky feeling on her face.
she dragged her feet against the cement of the floors, her face pale and eyes bloodshot, sure to concern anyone who’d seen her.
she attempted to cheer herself up by listening to SZA her entire drive home—as much as she wished it worked, it didnt really help much.
her thoughts became too loud for the music to even be placed, there was no way of escaping this, she was gonna be locked in the entrapments of her own mind for until she could breathe freely again.
the second her car was parked in her driveway she was already out of her car and walking up the stairs of her porch, she took her shoes off and went upstairs, without a word to her parents and siblings, leaving them confused in the kitchen.
once out of their sight, the girl began running to her room, desperate to be alone in a comforting, safe haven where she knew nothing bad would happen to her.
she plopped down onto her bed, curling into a ball to comfort herself. her eyes too used to even begin crying again, so she just sat there in silence, with only the loud screaming in her mind, the screams of matt and fucking amelia, creating a noise. it was so loud she couldnt stand it. she just wanted to sleep, sleep this entire nightmare away.
sleep sounded like the only escape she could figure of her mind, it was the only thing she wanted right now, at least thats what she’d like to believe, she just wanted matt back, she wanted to hold him again, be able to talk without begging and to just be his girlfriend again, what was so wrong with that?
in her best attempt of falling asleep, she shut her eyes and forced herself to atleast quiet her mind some, as much as she possibly could, which wasnt much at all, but it was still something.
slowly, the forcement of her eyes closed began to become naturual and her mind quieted, her breathing and heartbeat steadied.
~
*morning after*
amelia rolled over, her eyes slowly opening to adjust to the sun beaming in through matts window. with her moving she’d woken up matt, in to which, he grunted and looked over at her.
with his still half asleep mind, he’d been expecting y/n, but once his eyes had taken her in and seen red hair, many, many prominent freckles and green eyes—to say the least, he was so shocked and confused his mouth opened before his brain could comprehend anything.
“what the fuck?”
amelia’s eyes widened and her lips parted, “what?” she asked, there was no doubt that she wasnt the tiniest bit hurt about his reaction to seeing her.
matt blinked multiple times, his own best attempt at gaining his vision back and waking up a little.
“fuck, amelia, im sorry, I just- I wasnt expecting to see you, I got scared, sorry.” he mumbled, his hand awkwardly going to the back of his neck, scratching it and avoiding eye contact.
truth was, he really just wasnt expecting to see bright orange hair as soon as he woke up, talk about a jumpscare.
“its fine, matt, dont worry.” she replied, her eyes trailed across his features, admiring how naturally pretty he was.
her hand traveled up to cup his jaw, “you’re really pretty, matt.” she whispered, tilting his face back so he could make eye contact with her.
despite the butterflies fluttering in matts stomach, his mind was still on last night, not the god awful sex, but instead what he thought about.
he just- he couldnt believe he’d really dumped y/n for amelia so easily, he left the janitors closet and before he knew it, he was balls deep in some other girl. how did he possibly fuck someone else only after a few hours of breaking up with y/n? was he a slut, manwhore or didnt care? we’ll never know.
it was unbelievable, he couldnt believe his own actions. how the hell did he do that with his own free will? he knows himself better than that, he’d never do it, he just didnt understand why he did it.
“matt?” amelia’s voice broke his thoughts, her tone was confused, but also like she was ready to say something more.
he subtly moved away from her hand and rolled off the bed, standing up and walking over to his closet.
“yeah?” he answered shortly after.
“do you think we could go on a date?- today?” she asked timidly, she sat up and looked at him, awaiting his response.
matts heart thumped from his chest, beating harder with each breath in his lungs.
“w- what?” he asked, his voice breathy in shock. theres no way amelia just asked him that.
amelia gulped, looking down at the bed in humiliation, a dark red blush covered her cheeks and her fingers fidgeted with one another.
“I- I mean- um, amelia, we’ve- I thought last night was a simple hookup?” his hand ran through his hair nervously, unsure of what to feel in this moment. he liked amelia, he really did, but he wasnt sure if he was ready to be in a relationship with her quite yet, or anything past friends—last night was an accident, or so he’d like to think.
“no! yeah! um, it can be just- a, just a hook up, yeah, thats fine.” she replied awkwardly, trying to persuade herself that she wasnt on the verge of tears.
“how about we just hangout with my brothers and madi today, yeah?” matt attempted to save the awkwardness, but he failed miserably, probably worsening the situation.
amelia swallowed, her throat dry and her mind unforgiving, fuck it was all so awkward, this was definitely the most awkward thing she’d ever expierenced before and probably ever will.
she nodded, still avoiding eye contact with matt, too ashamed to even look up at matt when she got off the bed.
her movements paused, a sudden anger bubbling in her stomach.
her head whipped up to look at matt, her face redder than normal with anger. “what the fuck matt!” she exclaimed, her tone filled with disbelief.
matt took his turn of his own confusion on his face, “what?” he asked quietly, feeling small under her gaze with her sudden outburst.
“you fuck me dumb and then say no date, just a hookup? are you that fucking desperate?” she snapped, her words holding a bite to them. they were very clearly directed to matt and y/n.
matt went to open his mouth and speak, but amelia cut him off. “you breakup with your girlfriend and then fucking come to me? what the hell matt. you’re so fucking unbelievable.” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest before continuing, “so fuckin depserate to have your dick wet, huh?”
matts shoulders dropped—aswell as his jaw. kid was in shock. he was just called desperate. him? desperate? he wasnt desperate, he could never be desperate. amelia just so happened to be wearing revealing clothes and leading him on, what was he supposed to do?
“pick ya fucking jaw up from the floor matt. open your eyes! you just fucking dumped your girlfriend, then fucked another girl. do- did you even truly care about her?” she exasperated, she wasnt even mad at the y/n thing, she was more so mad that he fucked her, but then said no to a date.
“matt, what the hell is wrong with you? why would you fuck me just to say no to a date? are you some sort of fuckboy?” matts air left his lungs at this, his face dropped and his heart dropped to his ass.
was he actually a fuckboy? he couldnt be.
“im tired of you and your shit, im leaving, I guess ill fucking meet up with your brothers and madi—not for you, but to see my friends.” she gave him one last glance before grabbing her phone and exiting the room, she was so mad matt could feel it radiating off her.
once matt felt the disgusting presence of her leave the room, he shut the door and took in a breath, finally a fresh and free breath. a breath he felt was finally like a bird being freed from its cage, he felt free, despite only spending a night with that red-headed bastard he was already sick of her.
he wasnt actually gonna let her words sink in, he didnt care what amelia had to say, he knew she was just jealous and embarassed to the point she needed to make a bigger problem than the situation actually was.
an icky feeling, like he was disgusted with his own skin escaped throughout him, he felt gross.
he couldnt rid of the feeling, even with his hands wrapped around his torso, hugging himself at his best attempt of shaking the feeling, yet it didnt work.
he stood from the door and walked to his bathroom, immediately stripping from his pants and boxers to get in the shower, the only place he’d hoped would rid the disgusting feeling, he felt strange all over, his skin felt hot and too tight on him.
his hands moved quick to start his shower water, turning the knob to his usual tempature, just slightly hotter, hoping the hot would help.
his body felt wet now, the stinging tempature of the water didnt do anything but add a painful sensation throughout him. his hands went to his hair, grabbing desperately for stabilization, his emotions were sky rocketing and he couldnt understand why.
why did he feel gross?
why did his skin fit uncomfortably?
why did he feel like this?
why couldnt he feel like his usual self? everything was so overwhelming.
his hands moved quicker than he’d like, grabbing his body soap and squeezing more than needed on his loofah, he didnt even bother spreading it in, he only hit his chest and began washing desperately, spreading it across his body in attempts at feeling better, like the soap would do something to him, make him feel better.
he rubbed his skin desperately, searching for a way to end this mess.
after his shower, matt had finally felt just cleaner, but not clean. in the shower, he’d figured out why he felt the way he did, or what he’d convinced himself what the reason was.
he’d simply told himself over and over again that it was amelia, she was all over him and the realization had finally occured that he touched her, she touched him, and he finally felt icky for it.
so, after getting dressed, he’d ripped his bed clean from the sheets she’d slep in last night, changed pillowcases and blankets.
if he didnt, he didnt want to picture how he’d feel. he wasnt sure if he even wanted to ever do this again with amelia.
before letting this all dull over his mind any more, he grabbed his phone and texted his brothers and madi’s groupchat, asking them the question that caused amelia’s snap from earlier.
“do you guys wanna hang out?”
~
sending that message already was a lot for him, so now to act okay, like he wasnt arguing with amelia, scrubbing his body till it was a light shade of pink and stinging, and where he had to strip his entire bed clean from any remneants of amelia, to now hanging out with his friends, trying to act like he wanted to be here and wasnt slowly crumbling inside was just the cherry ontop.
at any given moment he could snap at someone, nick and chris definitely took notice of that, seeing how sharp his movements were, his tone bitter and stern and his eyes giving no mercy to anyone or anything he laid eyes on.
nick walked over to matt, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder while whispering to his brother, “whats your problem matt? you’ve been having mattitude all day and its just getting annoying by now.”
matt looked up at him, shooting him a glare before shaking his hand off his shoulder with a grumble, “nothing nick, cant you ever stop complaining?”
nick scoffed and shook his head, moving away from the very clearly pissed off matt.
amelia’s been tense since she left the house, an undying amount of pressure on her shoulders since she met the triplets and madi at the park, seeing matt slouched over at a bench with an annoyed look on his face was not a good sign.
she wasnt even sure why he was mad, she should be the mad one. he led her on and is now being the bitchy one? how unfair.
again, with the amount of pressure on her shoulders—being the dramatic bitch she is, she felt the need to get it off her shoulders, convincing herself that she was too good to be holding this much on herself.
so, while talking with madi, and ranting about her time with matt that morning, speaking of how rude he was—leaving out the parts where she was the bitch.
“—and then I couldnt believe he just did that out of nowhere, especially after I went through all the work of having to lie to him about y/n cheating, then he has the audacity to reject me?” she rolls her eyes, her tone holding the very obvious pissedness she was also make very clear with her face.
madi’s eyebrows knit together, amelia did what?
she narrows her eyes as her stomach churns with disgust, madi stands up from her spot on the bench, looking down at amelia with glare.
“what?” amelia asks, still completely unaware of her mistake.
“I- I just need to pee.” madi mumbles, tearing her gaze away from amelia, she repeats what amelia said in her head, each time sending a jolt of even more disgust to her already sick stomach.
amelia nods hesitantly, too annoyed to think more about her words and why madi had just left so abruptly.
madi looked around the now darkening park, looking for matt, once her eyes land on his figure, still sat slouched at the bench, his eyes drooping but following his finger as it runs along the wooden table.
she walks up to matt, taking a seat next to him before blurting out, “amelia lied.”
matt lifts his head up, looking over at madi, his eyebrows raising in confusion. “about what?” he asks.
“y/n cheating- she didnt actually do it, matt. she lied so she could have you.” madi muttered, her voice growing quieter with shame with each word she spoke.
matts body raced with emotions, he wasnt even sure what he was feeling right now, what was he supposed to feel with this newfound information?
he just stared at madi, his face falling pale.
“she what?”
3013 words
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coffee & stumbles | e.e
summary: your first date with emily turns very tense when you run into your ex. luckily, you’re able to minimize your time with her when emily gets the hint that you weren’t comfortable.
here’s part one of this!
pairing: emily engstler x fem!reader
contains: fluff, mentions of past toxic relationship — manipulation, gaslighting, etc, readers ex is AWFUL, emily being protective and just the best </3
word count: 4.6K
a/n: ok so i’m obsessed with writing this. thank you guys for the support! inbox is open for more suggestions or ideas for future parts because tbh my mind is BLANK!
“You’re kidding! Ugh, I wish I would’ve been there to see you all flustered around her,” your best friend, Delilah, exclaimed as she laid her feet on your lap, prodding at your thigh with her sock-covered toes.
You shook your head at her words, covering your face with one palm. As soon as you got off of your work, you headed straight to your shared apartment with Dahlia. Her strawberry hair was in a messy low bun, a few strands falling to frame her freckled face as she held a pint of mint chip ice cream. She had your cat, Luna, curled up in a ball in her lap.
“Shut up. I was not that flustered.” You lie, digging into your own pint of cookies and cream ice cream.
“You’re a shit liar, dude,” she shakes her head, sighing softly.
You were about to snip back when you saw a message pop up on your phone screen that was just resting on the coffee table. You lean forward with a grunt to snatch it and hold up your phone to your face.
from: unknown | Hey, it’s Emily! I’m so so sorry I didn’t text you sooner.
Being the nosy person she was, Delilah sat upright and rested her head on your shoulder. With her wooden spoon dangling from her lips, she gasped dramatically.
“Is that hot, tall tattooed girl?” She grinned cheekily.
“Yeah, I don’t know what to say, Del,” you whine as you rest your head on hers.
“Just be yourself. She clearly liked what she was lookin’ at and hearing so,” Delilah pokes at your cheek with her pointer finger. “Come on. Get in that.”
You shush her comments as you type out a small message. You beam as Luna had creepily crawled over to your own lap, running a hand over her soft fur.
to: emily | hey! how are you?
“How are you? Say something else. More flirty.” Delilah demanded with another poke to your cheek.
“Shut up!” You sneer. “I’m getting to it.”
from: emily | I’m doing good. I’m sorry if this is weird but can I call you?
You both gasp at the message, turning to each other with wide eyes.
“Should I say ‘yeah?’” You question, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
“Hello? Yeah! I wanna hear this sexy raspy voice of hers.” Delilah grins as she creepily leans over your shoulder.
You blush as you regret telling her in detail everything you could retain about Emily. You shouldn't, right?
No, you needed to. Her voice was lingering in her brain from the moment she opened her mouth. Like who sounds like that?
But you wanted to save the conversation for when you saw her.
to: emily | im kind of with my bestfriend rn im sorry :/
“What the fuck?” Delilah frowned as you sent the message.
“Del, I love you but I really do not want to have my first phone call with her with you around. I’ll act even more nervous and weird.” You hold her hand with a tight squeeze.
Delilah reluctantly agrees because she knows your right. As much comfort she gave you, this was new and you wanted to do this on your own. You were 22 with minimal dating experience — all your own fault you felt. Something as exciting as this — a charming woman approaching you of all people — is something you wanted to keep for yourself.
“Well, I know I’ll be able to hear her soon,” she winked playfully at you but her eyes showed her understanding of your wanting for this to be more private.
from: emily | No, don’t apologize. But I really can’t wait to hear and see you again. Let me know when you’re free to grab that coffee :)
You beamed at your phone and hurriedly typed a response.
to: emily | im free thursday morning if that’s good for you too!
from: emily | Sounds good to me. I’ve seen Mia’s on 56th and always wanted to go. I could pick you up or we could meet there. Whatever makes you more comfortable lol
How adorable is she?
“Uh oh. I think someone’s getting a little nervous, dude,” Delilah teases with a shit-eating grin.
“She’s being sweet,” you defend, shaking your head.
“Yeah, I know but that last ‘lol’ really gives her away.”
Maybe it was a bit of an ego boost to know you made someone like her nervous to see you again. Delilah was sure she was bursting with nerves.
to: emily | i’m fine with either. whichever is easiest for you:)
“Okay you two are the cutest. I already sense good things with her,” Delilah announced.
“Enough with your psychic predictions. It freaks me out, Del, you know that.”
Delilah came from a long line of women who were perceived to be ‘witches’ and ‘hippies’. She eerily enough was able to predict a lot of things that have gone either right or wrong since your friendship began in high school.
from: emily | I have no problem picking you up
That’s settled then. She was coming to pick you up on Thursday.
Oh, damn it. What the hell were you going to wear?
Thursday morning came faster than you expected.
The texts had been nonstop between the two of you. Emily had sent you a few pics of her outfits or meals that she was having. You hoped you didn’t seem as eager as you were in person over texts to get selfies from her. You showed Delilah one she took and she muttered ‘damn’ before nodding in approval.
It had been two days since you first met Emily but the time flew by. It even took you a second to realize that today was the day until Delilah bursted through your shared bathroom door, giddy and ready to help you get ready for the date. You groaned as she shook you slightly, nearly knocking your toothbrush out of your hand.
“Are you ready for your hot coffee date?” Delilah pressed a peck to your head, bouncing with joy.
“Del, I am on the verge of throwing up please.”
You rub at your forehead, feeling your anxiety-induced headache creeping its way to your temples.
“Oh. shit, sorry. Let me know when you’re ready to get dressed and I’ll help.”
You silently thank her as you brush your teeth, tilting your head as you examine your bare face. Internally, it was a battle between calling her and saying that you couldn’t make it due to a stomach bug.
Delilah was testing her psychic abilities and randomly blurted out, nearly shoulder checking you: “You are not canceling. Don’t even try it.”
You gasped and rubbed your shoulder, frowning as you spit out the foamy toothpaste.
“I wasn’t!” Your voice pitched higher.
God, you were awful at lying.
“Sure. I’m not letting you flake out. You need this. Plus, Luna needs another mommy,” Delilah teased, glancing down at the bathroom floor where Luna was brushing past your feet.
“What? We’re not enough for her?” You respond with an exasperated sigh.
“Uh, of course. But she knows her mom is a single mother and secretly wishes that she had another mom to take care of her when me, her aunt, isn’t here.”
You blink at her as you rinse off your toothbrush.
“Did she tell you this?” You snort.
“Duh. I’m a psychic and that includes being an animal one too.” Delilah states, shrugging her shoulders as she finishes up her morning face routine.
“I can’t believe you, Loonie. Shaming me for being a single mother?” You look down at her gray tail curling around your ankles.
Luna meows softly, tilting her head as her big green eyes stare up at you. She sits herself on the top of your bare foot, snuggling into your pajama pant leg.
“Alright, I forgive you but only because you’re so cute.” You preen, leaning down to scratch at the top of her head.
“Traitor.” Delilah scoffs as she applies her daily moisturizer and sunscreen. “But anyways, are you ready now?”
You lean down to pick up Luna who purrs a little as you move her into your arms. You place a few kisses on her head, feeling all the more relaxed.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
Delilah sucked in a deep breath, nodding curtly.
“Let’s get you lookin’ getting-coffee sexy.”
You shake your head at her words, thinking about how annoying she was but how much you loved her.
You and Delilah landed on a black and gray striped sweater with a pair of blue jean shorts and your favorite pair of docs with comfy socks so that the docs wouldn’t tear up your heels. Delilah beamed at the sight of you, pretending to wipe her eyes.
“God, you look beautiful. She’s going to fall in love,” she sighed dramatically as she brushed a few of your baby hairs out of your face.
You shake your head as your face heats up at her words. You sent Emily a text that you were ready when she was ready to which she responded with that she was on her way to go and pick you up.
“Should I, like, greet her at the door and ask her intentions with you?” Delilah hummed in thought as she picked up Luna and cradled her in her arms.
“Absolutely not. I’ll kick you in the back of your knee if you do that.”
Delilah frowned and shook her head. “Jesus, okay. I won’t.”
“Love you, though,” you scrunch your nose at her before scratching underneath Luna’s chin, watching her eyes shut slowly.
“Yeah, yeah, love you.”
The minutes passed steadily as you waited for a knock at the apartment door. You tried to distract yourself by checking to make sure you had everything you might need for the date: your wallet, keys, lip gloss, lip liner, oil blotting sheets, hand sanitizer, etc. Delilah put on Love Island as she ate her own breakfast and hot hazelnut coffee.
Next thing you knew, a few soft knocks came from your front door. You and Delilah’s necks snapped to each other before you both stood up from the couch. You shove her back a little as she holds her hands up in defense. You pointed a knowing finger at her before sucking in a deep breath, unlocking the three locks on the door.
You twist the knob and tug the door open to reveal Emily standin there with a kind smile on her face. She looked even better than what you remembered. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she had on a light gray hoodie with a pair of blue jeans. She looked so cozy and warm, you felt immediately at ease.
“Hi,” you sighed out, leaning against the door.
“Hi,” she grinned, tilting her head a bit at her. “You look beautiful.”
You try not to curl into yourself at the sound of her voice, feeling more than overwhelmed.
“Thank you. You look beautiful, too.” You reply and try not to sound like you were in love with her already.
Her eyes soften at your words and you swear her cheeks turn a light pink as she mutters a ‘thank you’.
“Well, uh, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. I’m ready to go,” you grin, turning to shut your door to give Delilah one more panicked look.
She gives you two thumbs up and blows you a kiss with Luna’s paw. You turned to Emily as you shut the door completely, adjusting the strap of your purse.
“Is everything okay?” She wonders as she hesitantly turns towards the stairs of your complex.
“No, yeah. I’m okay. I think I’m just nervous,” you admit, brushing a flyway behind your ear.
Nervous was an understatement, if you were going to be completely honest. Your heart was beating rapidly against your sternum, your fingers twisting your fidget ring around.
“Oh, trust me. I am too,” she eases your worries and motions to the stairs, holding her tattooed hand out for you. “I mean, going on a date with a pretty girl is always nerve-wracking.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at how annoyingly charming she was but you hated (loved) how reassured you felt once she said that. You took her larger hand in yours, giving her a shy smile.
“You’re a little bit of a flirt, huh?”
Emily merely shrugged her shoulders as she led you to where she parked in front of your apartment complex.
“Trying to make you feel comfortable. I promise you have nothing to worry about,” her kind raspy voice soothes your nerves.
You nod as you follow her to her truck. She was right. There really was nothing to worry about. It’s a coffee date: a coffee date with probably one of the hottest women you’ve ever encountered. She opened the passenger's side door and helped you up and into it.
The second you sat down into the seat, you felt a wave of nausea flow over your senses. You repeatedly twist your ring, sucking in a deep breath as you examine the interior of her car. It was pretty clean if you were going to be honest. Yours looked like a garage sale in the backseat as you constantly forgot to go and donate stuff you didn’t want anymore.
Emily got into her driver's seat, pushing back her flyaways and shutting the door. She put her key into the slot and turned over her car to start. The screen popped up with the most recent song, the volume at a low.
“Shit, sorry.” She tapped on the screen with her middle finger, her pale cheeks turning a soft pink.
“No, I respect it. Our Song is a cult classic,” you purse your lips to hold back your chuckle.
She opens her mouth as she puts her truck in reverse, not knowing what else to say.
“Okay, honestly, I’m trying to learn it on guitar and listening to it a lot helps,” Emily admits as she turns to get out of your complex.
Your eyes widened as you couldn’t believe how endearing she is. You lean back comfortably into the leather seats, smiling to yourself.
“Well, I definitely need to hear it now. You can’t just tell me that.” You raise your brows, watching her palm flatten against the wheel to make a turn.
And she made driving attractive. Fuck, you were so screwed.
The whole drive was actually a lot more comfortable than you expected. Emily repeatedly glanced at you to make sure you were still okay. She even let you be in charge of the music which put you on the spot but you were successful on playing songs that she liked.
Or even pretended to like for your sake.
Now the two of you were now sitting down after placing your order with the person at the front. It was a bit packed but not too much to where you felt suffocated. You were sharing embarrassing stories and it felt so easy to talk to her. Her soft brown eyes invited you in to spill every secret that you had within you.
“I kid you not, he claimed to not have given me mono,” you said through soft giggles, shaking your head. “I told him I got it and he basically said that it wasn’t possible because he didn’t have it.”
“Is he a dumbass? That’s exactly how spreading mono works.” Emily questioned as she covered her mouth with her fingers, letting her own little laugh escape.
“I think so, honestly. Thankfully, that was, like, 5 years ago and it was my first and last date with a man.” You sighed out, brushing your hair behind your ear.
As your giggles died down, a waitress brought over your coffees and breakfast. You thank her as does Emily, looking at your plate of avocado toast with a side of eggs. She had gotten the same thing but with an extra side of eggs.
“Does everything look good?” She asked as she picked up her fork, about to dig into her eggs.
“Oh, yeah. I am starving.” You immediately pick up the toast to take a hefty bite.
Emily’s eyes stared at you from across the table as she grabbed the tobasco to drizzle over her medium eggs. You pause your movements as you stare back at her, suddenly aware of how fast you were eating.
“What?” You reply, setting the toast down and covering your mouth so that she couldn’t see the chewed-up mess in your mouth.
“Nothing. You’re cute is all,” she shrugged her shoulders and poked at broken eggs before shoving a piece into her mouth.
You froze and felt the blood rush into your cheeks. You had gotten another glance at her tongue piercing, now knowing that you didn’t just imagine that the first time the two of you met.
“Shut up,” you murmur, digging into your own eggs. “When did you get that tongue piercing?”
Her eyebrows raised like your question wasn’t one she received often.
“I’ve had it for about two years now, I think. Why?”
“I like it,” you dig back into your food, hoping your flushed face wasn’t giving away your own dirty thoughts.
Emily squinted her eyes for a second at you before shaking her head with a soft laugh. Before you could ask her another question, you catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Your expression falters for a moment but you shake your head, telling yourself that it couldn’t be.
“So, where do you work at? You obviously know where I work,” you chuckle, staring at her intently.
Emily’s figure tenses a bit but she straightens her back, clearing her throat.
“Well, I’m a professional basketball player. I play for the Washington Mystics.” She sounded hesitant to tell you but more relaxed once you simply smiled back at her.
“What the hell? That’s so cool,” you stare at her, tilting your head. “Have you always wanted to be a basketball player?”
“Actually, no. I used to get told I’d make a great lawyer because I like to argue so I was set on that for a bit.” She chuckled.
“My dad used to tell me the same thing. We just but heads a lot.” You shrug, twisting around the straw of your empty iced coffee.
“Did you want a refill?” Emily questioned, noticing your fiddling.
Now that she had mentioned it , you did want more. You knew it was pushing your caffeine intake but you were craving it.
“Yeah but I’ll get it. You already paid,” you pointed at her.
The two of you had shuffled to get your cards out but Emily was quicker than you were. You had sighed out when she handed the person at the register her card, watching her grinning charmingly.
Yeah, you weren’t complaining.
She held up both of her inked hands in defense.
“Okay, not gonna say it won’t again though so,” she smacked her plush lips against her teeth.
Again? She was already talking about seeing you again. You would be lying to yourself if that didn’t lift your spirits a bit.
“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll be right back. Did you want anything to go?” You question as you stand up from your seat.
Emily glanced down at her empty plates and shook her head, looking at you with gentle eyes.
“No, thank you. I’m okay, pretty girl.” She threw a very subtle wink in your direction, taking a sip of her own nearly finished coffee.
You nod and mutter a ‘no problem’, turning away before she could see how flustered you were over her sweet words. You walk up to the counter and ask for an iced vanilla latte to-go. The cashier tells you it’ll be a few minutes because of the low supply of grounds right now. You tell them it's fine and you’ll wait a little.
The cashier leaves towards the back room as you stand and examine the pastries they had on display. You were about to walk away too until you saw out of the corner of your eye a figure appear right next to you.
Oh, God.
No.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. You just needed to get a to-go coffee and she came up to the counter as well.
Okay, you can just ignore her. You don’t have to say a thing. Maybe she doesn’t even realize you’re standing right next to her. You didn’t even know you were holding in a deep breath until you heard the voice that almost ruined your entire view on relationships.
“Hey,” you hear from next to you.
You shut your eyes with a soft sigh, turning to your ex with a fake grin.
“Hey Andi.”
“That’s it? Just ‘hey’? I mean, come on. You’re not,” she paused and pointed at you, a cheeky grin on her face, “you’re not still pissed over us breaking up right?”
Your face drops as you clear your throat, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“Not really, no. I’m just asking what do you want because I have to get back to—”
“Oh, what? Your little date? Yeah, I noticed.” She snorted, looking at you with obvious judgment.
You just stare back at her in disbelief. Something in you wanted to snap and yell at her but Emily was only a few feet away at your table, probably wondering what was taking you so long.
“God, you still have that weird ass fidget ring, huh?” She motioned to your antsy fingers, which caused you to stop entirely.
She always tried to claim your anxiety was an excuse not to do certain things or talk to her. You could feel your eyes watering at the memories of her accusing you of cheating, not wanting her, etc because you tended to not talk to her about everything. Funny how she was the one who felt that way.
“Hey, baby, is everything okay?” A familiar voice comes up from behind you.
You relax at the sound of Emily’s voice, sucking in a deep breath and blinking away the burning tears in your eyes.
Wait, baby? It took you a second to realize she was pretending to be your girlfriend in order to give Andi the hint to back up. Could she tell how uncomfortable you were? Has she been watching you from your table?
“No, yeah. Sorry,” you glance at Andi who’s now looking Emily up and down with a hint of distaste.
“It’s okay,” her gentle voice told you, her soft hand resetting right on your lower back. “Who’s your friend?”
Her tone sharply changed when addressing Andi’s presence. Like she was trying to figure out who she was in relation to you. You open your mouth to reply ‘no one’ but Andi beat you to it.
“Andi.”
You felt so embarrassed by your ex’s behavior, you turned into Emily’s body. There was no way you were going to explain the backstory of this on your first date.
“It’s okay. Let’s just go, please,” you try to whisper as lowly as possible.
Emily nods at your words, taking down her tense, brooding attitude for a moment. She sends Andi probably the bitchiest smile you could ever imagine and you had to hold back your snort.
“Have a good one,” she replies once more, nodding curtly.
You turn away as you and Emily walk back over to your table, almost missing your ex’s bitter expression. You knew at this point that you were more than flushed; due to both embarrassment and Emily’s actions.
You grab your purse off of the back of the chair, turning to Emily with a long sigh and shake your head.
“I am so so sorry about that. That was so immature of her. I was trying to hurry too so hopefully you wouldn't see her or have to interact with her but she was just so—“
Emily reached forward to place her palm on your shoulder, brows furrowed in worry:“Hey, woah. It’s okay. It’s seriously not that big of a deal.”
“Really?”
Was that not as humiliating as you thought it was? Were you probably blowing the situation out of proportion?
“Yeah. It’s not like you wanted that to happen. I could see how… uncomfortable she made you. I’m sorry about that.”
Emily sounded so genuine with her apology. She did nothing wrong.
“It’s okay,” you wave her off, scoffing. “Do you mind if we leave now though?”
Emily grabbed her keys from the counter, nodding slowly: “Yeah, of course.”
“You’re sure?” You check once more as the two of you make your way to the entrance/exit doors.
“Yes. I promise, alright?” Emily was chuckling now.
You nod, pursing your lips so that you wouldn’t say anything else stupid. You stand side-by-side with the tall woman, your hands grazing against each other. Emily takes your hand in hers within seconds of leaving the place, her slightly rough yet warm palms engulfing your own. You glance at her with your peripheral, noticing her little grin.
The whole drive back to your place was quiet but content. This caused your own equally cheeky grin to spread on your face. When the two of you arrived at her truck, you turned to her with heart eyes.
“I wanted to say thank you for kind of jumping in. I thought I had it but clearly, I didn’t.” You sigh, covering your forehead with your free hand.
“You don’t have to thank me. It was nothing,” she gave your hand a squeeze, her eyes drifting to your lips.
You subconsciously do the same, blinking slowly.
“Well, I’m thanking you regardless,” you scrunched up your nose at her. “I did like you calling me ‘baby’ though. That was a nice surprise.”
Emily leaned against her truck to copy your own stance, rubbing her thumb over the length of your pointer finger.
“Yeah?” She smirked attractively.
You nod, looking up at her with anticipation. Was she getting your hint that you wanted her to kiss you? She must have as she began to lean into you more, tilting her body and head down.
You tilt your chin up to meet her in the middle, giving her hand a slight squeeze. You locked lips tenderly, the passing by sounds of cars and people making this all the more romantic to you. Her lips were even softer than you had imagined. Her free hand lifted up to cup your cheek to guide you a bit.
You were out of practice with kissing but it’s never been like this for you. You wanted more of her lips if that was even possible. You almost pulled away to tug in her closer but she beat you to it.
“Okay, maybe it wasn’t nothing,” she cheekily replied.
You squint your eyes at her before shoving her shoulder with a gasp. She laughs softly as you realize what she was referencing.
“Shut up. I regret kissing you now,” you lie straight through your teeth.
“Really? So you would hate it if I kissed you again?” Emily tilted her head at you.
“Now you’re twisting my words,” you point at her, feeling her palms rest on your waist.
“How about you think about it on the way back to your place?” Emily completely ignores you, teasing you still.
You huff as if you were pissed before sighing dramatically. You almost lost your train of thought when you felt her thumbs caressing at your clothed lips.
“Fine. I will.” You raise your brows at her, jerking your head towards her truck. “Come on so I can sit with my thoughts.”
You ended up doing a lot more thinking the whole drive to your place. And maybe once you were dropped off, a few more kisses and promises of many more dates after that.
You couldn’t wait for it.
tag-list: @uraesthete (i love u nell) COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!
here’s part one! if you haven’t read it :)
#emily engstler#emily engstler x reader#emily engstler fic#washington mystics#wlw fanfic#wlw#lesbian#lesbian community#wnba#wbb
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Knives, Bikes, and Stitches, Oh My!
Summary: Daryl is working on his motorcycle and you watch. Too bad you can't keep your focus.
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 1.3k words
Era: Prison (again) because he's just so yummy...
TW: Mention of blood and stitches. Maybe chronic horniness?
Y'all loved my first story and I hope this one whets your appetites just as well! I have no idea how motorcycles or vehicles of literally any kind work, so please feel free to educate me in the comments.
You put the fear of God in Daryl every time he sees you with a knife.
It’s not that you can’t use one. On the contrary, you’re a force to be reckoned with when you’re fighting. Sometimes all that can be seen of you in a fight is the shine of blood-tinged metal as you slash and stab at whatever is attacking with your twin blades. No, your knives are comfortable and at home in your grip. Maybe too comfortable.
“How many times I got to tell ya to stop eatin’ off yer damn knife?” Daryl’s rough accent sounds out in the empty courtyard. His head is bowed low as he works on his bike, not looking up as he speaks.
I’m perched on the tabletop of one of the prison’s picnic tables eating a can of peaches. Daryl, for some reason unknown to me, had elected to start taking his bike apart and putting it back together and I followed along to watch the process. I don’t know shit about vehicles, much less motorcycles, but I like spending time with the grumpy man.
“It’s fine, I’m not gonna cut myself.” I tell him as I tilt my head down to drag a slice of peach off the blade. Daryl’s eyes don’t move from the work in front of him, but I can feel him watching me. I pull the chunk into my mouth and lick the blade clean of the sticky juice.
“Told ya to cut it out.” I’m eating the canned fruit haphazardly, not paying any attention to how close I am to the edge. Daryl shakes his head. He knows it’s a matter of time before I cut my lip or tongue.
At his repeated command, I roll my eyes but pull away from the edge of my knife. I set the can of peaches down and watch him. His brown hair is getting longer now and it’s sliding down into his eyes, shielding most of his face from my watchful gaze.
“What are you doing, anyways?” I ask. I scoot myself closer to the edge of the table and peer down over his shoulder. He has one of his tools in his hand and some pieces of metal I can’t identify. It is roughly the size of my fist and cylindrical. Whatever it is, it looks important.
Daryl glances over his shoulder, feeling my curious eyes looking down. He huffs and continues his task. “Workin’.”
“No shit. Working on what?” I’m playing with my knife in my fingers, absentmindedly twisting and flipping it. Daryl looks up at me through his hair, squinting one eye against the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to play it cool.
“Do ya really want to know or are ya jus’ bored?” He asks in his gruff voice. I don’t answer for a second. He looks so pretty. Get a grip, Y/N, I think to myself.
“Really want to know. Come on, I don’t know anything about bikes. Teach me something.” Daryl squints at me for several seconds longer and I’m convinced he’s going to send me inside to bother someone else, but he slowly starts talking.
“’M cleanin’ the carburetor.” He tilts his hand up to show me the same piece I was looking at earlier. “It’s startin’ to get clogged.”
“Oooookay. What’s that do?”
“It keeps the engine runnin’ smooth, basically. Don’t keep it clear and that can fuck up the bike, make it stall or overheat. Gotta take it apart and clean it every few months.”
Daryl lets me watch over his shoulder as he points out different parts of the carburetor and how to clean them. After a few minutes, his gruff voice starts to fade out and my mind begins to wander.
He just looks so good. His hands are greasy and dirty from all of his work today and his biceps are sweaty from the Georgia heat. He’s wearing one of his simple black shirts that already fit him so well and the sweat is only making him look more delicious. I’m watching his hands work over the small brass jets when I feel burning heat in my palm and look down.
I’d been messing with my knife the entire time and cut myself. I instinctively let go of the blade and it hits the concrete with a harsh clang. Daryl’s head lifts at the noise and he spins around right as I rush to tuck both hands behind my back. I look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and I’m trying to hide the chocolatey evidence. Except this time, it’s blood.
Daryl’s eyes run over me for a second, then flick down to my knife as it sits on the dirty floor. He slowly bends down and picks it up. “Y/N.” He starts, a low warning in his tone.
“It’s fine! I’m fine, I just dropped it.” My voice rambles out. There’s a high, nervous note to it and I’m hoping to God he doesn’t notice.
He raises an eyebrow. “If yer fine, why’s the knife got fresh blood on it?” Fuck.
“Uhhhhh.” I look around the courtyard, trying to find an excuse. I, naturally, see nothing. “Magic?”
Daryl huffs and crosses his arms. “Let me see your hands.”
I wince. I don’t want to get in trouble, but I can feel the blood dripping off my hand, and it stings. The longer I hold off showing him the angrier he’ll get.
“Y/N. Hand, now.” Daryl’s voice leaves no room for arguments.
“Jus’, don’t be mad?” I ask. He says nothing and I sigh, then slowly move my hands back in front of me. The blood is quickly evident on my skin.
“God damn it, girl. Why can’t ya ever listen to me?” Despite his rough tone, his hands are gentle as he takes my wrist and tilts my hand, inspecting the damage. I risk a glance at my hand. There’s a slash across my entire palm and more blood than there should be. It’s going to need stitches.
“Ya need stitches.” Told you.
Daryl looks up from my hand but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His eyes lock with mine and he gives me a warm look. There’s exasperation and concern and I don’t know what to do with it. He takes a surprisingly clean rag from his pocket and ties it around my bleeding palm, firmly but not enough to hurt.
I can’t help but be surprised by just how gentle he’s being with me. I was expecting a pop in the side of the head and a banishment to Hershel’s cell. I look up at him through my lashes, waiting for my verbal lashing. After almost a minute, I realize there is none.
“Does this mean I gotta go in now?” I try to keep the potential disappointment from my voice and don’t entirely succeed.
“Yeah, yer going to go get those stitches. Ya weren’t listenin’ anyways.” He grumbles at me. “The hell were you doin’?”
I look away from him. I do not want to explain that I was too busy being horny over him to notice that I gouged my palm open. I risk a glance at him and I’m caught by those ocean-blue eyes.
“I was watching your hands…”
Daryl pauses, then snorts. “Maybe instead of watchin’ my hands ya should’ve been watching yours. Go get your damn stitches and I’ll show ya somethin’ else.”
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl fanfiction#the walking dead#twd#twd daryl#walking dead#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd x reader#norman reedus#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#daryl x you#daryl x female reader
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you belong with me l || joe burrow x reader
description: you and joe have been best friends ever since ohio state and you’ve been his biggest supporter for as long as you both could remember. it was always the same dynamic between you both, friends. very very very close friends. but what if you wanted to be more than just friends?
a/n: best friends to lovers HELLO? you are both so oblivious yet so aware of your feelings at the same time it is crazy. so many little moments that have you like “how the hell are you not aware you’re in love with each other?”.
you’re in denial for a lot of this fic, and Joe pretty much knows what he wants but is a little scared to actually do something about it
part 2 will be up later this week :)
warnings: language, mentions of sex (no actual smut)
word count: 13.3 k
—-------------------------------------
Thursday
You had just gotten home from running a few errands, absolutely exhausted from all the running around you had been doing from Christmas shopping and planning for your sister's wedding. You left all the bags in your entryway and collapsed on your couch.
“Ughh,” you groaned into the pillow. It had been a pretty chaotic week for you and you felt tired and burnt out, and were in desperate need of a night out.
You heard your phone buzz in your pocket so you moved to lay on your back and pulled your phone out to see who was calling. The name on your screen immediately made you smile and forget about your fatigue, so naturally, you answered it.
“Hey, Y/N,” Joe said over the phone as he sat down on his couch.
“Hi Joe,” you smiled as you started twirling your his sweatshirt string. Somehow you ended up with a few of Joe’s shirts or hoodies in your closet from when you’d be over at his place or him at yours. Currently, you have one of his old LSU hoodies which was a little big on you, but that made it even more comfier. “How was practice?”.
“Good,” He breathed out, sounding a little weary.
“Is something wrong? You sound extra tired,” you ask your best friend.
“Nah, Just the usual tiredness from practice but I’m fine,” he lied.
You could tell when Joe would lie to you, the tone of his voice would usually give it away. And right now, he was lying to you. “I know you too well Joe, what's up?”.
He let out a sigh and said, “The Bengals Christmas Party is tomorrow night and I’m dreading it,”.
“Ahhh, I see. Mr. Hermit Crab has to go to a partyyyy,” you tease.
“Really funny,” He says, rolling his eyes which you could feel through the screen.
“I know you don’t partially enjoy parties but it’s Christmas, lighten up,” you tell him. “There will be lots of people there to keep you company,”.
“And that’s just the problem. Everyone there is just gonna wanna talk about football and I need one night to just relax,” he says.
You felt bad for Joe since you knew how all of this would get draining for him. It was already stressful enough that the playoffs were slowly creeping up and the background noise was only getting louder by the day, and then he had 50 other things on top of that to do. He didn’t get any break time once December rolled around. That’s also why it was hard for him to enjoy his birthday, which happened to be next Sunday.
“I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to stop you from going but you are the face of the team and not going would look bad,”.
As he listens to you, an idea pops into his head. He sits up and says, “You know, it would be a lot more tolerable if you came with me?”.
Your eyes light up at his offer. Joe always ended up bringing you with him to events like this. Ever since he got drafted by the Bengals, you’d be right by his side at any team activities that needed a plus 1. At first, you weren’t really sure why he’d bring you along with him, and quite honestly you still aren’t really sure since he could just go alone or bring anyone else, but it always seemed to make him more comfortable when you were there and you’d be happy to keep him company at any given time.
“That’s if you're free?” He adds.
“Oh trust me, I am. I’m in desperate need of a night out so this might be the thing I need,” you say as you hop off the couch and walk into your bedroom to figure out an outfit for tomorrow.
“Everything alright?” He asks as he gets up to figure out his own outfit for tomorrow now that he actually has a reason to go.
“Yeah, just a triple homicide. Work, Christmas, and my Sister's wedding planning,” you say as you pull out a few Christmasy dresses, none really catching your eye.
“Damn, December really isn’t our month,” he laughs. “You need a night out,”.
“You got that right,” you smile. You're just about to ask him what he was thinking of wearing to the party but your sister calls you, interrupting you and Joe’s call.
“Shit, my Sister’s calling me. Probably more wedding stuff,” you sigh.
“That’s okay,” he laughs. “I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow,” he adds.
“Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow,” you smile.
“Bye, Y/N,” he replies before hanging up. You then call your sister back, placing the phone on speaker and throwing it onto the bed.
“Hey Kaylee,” you say as you go back to outfit hunting for tomorrow.
“Hey, you busy?” She asks.
“A little. I’m trying to find an outfit for tomorrow,” you say as you pull out a cropped red sweater.
“What’s tomorrow?” She asks.
“Joe asked me to go with him to the team Christmas party,” you said as you dug through your closet for a black mini skirt and sheer tights to go with the sweater.
“Aw that’s nice,” she says. “You know, with the number of things Joe brings you to or does with you, you’d think that you both would be a couple by now. You are practically his girlfriend,” she jokes, only partly though.
You immediately stop looking through your closet and turn back to face your phone. “What?” you say as you feel yourself turning red at the mention of being his girlfriend, a thought you buried all those years ago because you thought it was silly.
“I’m just joking, Y/N, kind of. But I mean, you are doing what girlfriends typically do. I know you’re really close friends and you have been for years, but he brings you to like everything and you’re always doing something together. People think you’re his secret girlfriend for a reason,” she says.
You find yourself staring off into space as she’s talking. Deep down, you knew she was right but you just didn’t want to look at it that way. You were doing girlfriend duties for him and it became clearer as time passed by. At first, it didn’t bother you much, it was just two best friends doing best friend things right? It was completely normal for you to go to every single one of his games, go to these team events with him, and spend so much time together, right? But as time went on, you started to realize that maybe people’s comments weren’t totally out of left field. It did look like you were his girlfriend, especially since he didn’t have any other girl with him most of the time.
You had feelings for Joe back when you first met at Ohio State, but you never did anything about them because you thought he didn’t feel the same. You spent weeks spiraling over your feelings towards him, but you eventually gave up because you didn’t want to lose him as a friend in case he felt differently about you, so you buried the feelings and moved on. Or so you thought you buried them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case since you were spiraling, again, at the thought of being his girlfriend and being told that you were acting like it too.
You never pushed Joe about his dating life because you thought that was boundary stomping. Yes, you two were very close, but you didn’t really want to know the details about his love life for many reasons. You just watched that part of his life from a distance. He had a few girlfriends over the years, none of which stuck around or fizzled out over time. The only consistent girl in his life was you. And that’s why everyone thought you were his girlfriend when he first got drafted.
They were convinced you both were either dating or hooking up, neither of which was true. It was a little awkward when that gained traction, but it slowly faded out over time but still lingered to this day. You both tried to not let it affect your friendship and for the most part, it worked. You ignored and continued to support him in every way possible, but those thoughts of you being a couple were buried deep inside your mind and sometimes peeked through, just like how they were right now.
“I haven’t really looked at it that way,” you lied.
“Of course you haven’t. Why would you? Joe is such a great guy and has been a great friend to you for years. Why would you ever think that way,” she laughs.
Being best friends with one of the best quarterbacks in the league had its perks. But you weren’t one to take advantage of that often. You were just there to support your best friend and enjoy the ride. To everyone else, he was Joe Burrow. But to you, he was just Joe. And you loved that you got to see the real him and the guy you met in college was still there regardless of everything that’s changed since then.
“Rightttt,” you say as you sit down on your bed.
“Well anyways, I’ll leave you to it. I was just calling about what the menu should look like for the pre-wedding brunch but we can talk about that later,” she says.
“You sure?” You ask.
“Positive. Have fun at the party and tell Joe I said hi,”.
“Thanks, Kaylee and I will. I’ll call you soon,” you say as you hang up. You toss your phone to the side and fall back onto your bed. The thought of you and Joe being a couple was stupid, right? You both had been friends for years and never once did he show any other feelings other than friendship towards you, so why was this even a thought? Were you not seeing something that everyone else was? Did Joe ever have the same thoughts as you?
He was the perfect guy. He was kind, selfless, funny, attractive, smart, and charming. Any girl would be so lucky to have him as her boyfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was your boyfriend? He matches your vibe completely and you both have so much in common, plus you already know so much about each other. You would be the perfect couple and people wouldn’t even be surprised if you got together.
“Nah, this is stupid,” you shook your head as you broke out of whatever fantasy you were dreaming about.
But was it a fantasy, or was it something that you both wished was reality deep down?
Friday Night
The next day flew by pretty quickly and you found yourself sitting at your vanity, applying the last bit of makeup before Joe picked you up. You opted for a cropped red sweater, a black mini skirt with sheer tights, and black knee-high boots. Jewelry-wise, you didn’t go all out. Just your usual earrings and necklaces, but you made sure to wear the diamond tennis bracelet Joe got you after he signed his rookie contract. You didn’t wear it often since it was so expensive, but whenever you did, Joe would notice and a huge smile would appear on his face.
Flashback to 2020
You sat down on Joe’s couch as he brought over two glasses of red wine. He had called you over for dinner tonight at his new place that he bought once his contract money came through.
“I loveee your house. It’s very homey,” you chirp as you pull a plush blanket over your legs.
“Thank you,” he smiles as he sits down, handing you your wine glass. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be upgrading in a few years,”.
“Oh trust me, it’ll go just as planned,” you say, taking a sip of the blood red wine. “You’re about to set the league on fire,”.
“I appreciate the confidence,” Joe laughs as he sips his wine.
“I’m so glad you got drafted to Cincy. It was already tough enough that you were down in Baton Rouge for 2 years, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got drafted anywhere else,” you sigh.
“Sounds like somebody missed me,” he said as he threw his head back into the couch pillow.
“No shit, goofball. I missed my best friend,” you laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder.
“Well, take this as an apology,” he says, putting his glass to the side and reaching down to grab something from the side of the couch. He pulls up a small lilac gift bag and places it in your lap.
“What’s this?” you question as butterflies fill your stomach. You place your glass on the side table and examine the little bag.
“An apology for being away for 2 years,” he says, raising his eyebrows and motioning you to open the bag.
“It’s not like I didn’t see you at all. I went to a few games and you still came back here during your breaks,” you said as you patted his thigh.
“Still, I wasn’t at your fingertips like I usually am,” he laughs, causing a blush to creep up your face. “Just open it,”.
You nod and open the bag and are met with a beige box. You open the box and your jaw drops at the sight of a shiny, very real-looking, diamond tennis bracelet sitting inside.
“Joe, what the fuck,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across the big diamonds. “You didn’t have to- This must’ve been so expensive,”.
“Don’t worry about all that. It’s a gift from me to my best friend and saying no would be rude,” he says, grabbing the bracelet and helping you put it on. “In case you forgot, I am a millionaire now, and you never wanna upset a millionaire,” he jokes.
“Don’t send your minions on me now,” you joke as he clasps the bracelet onto your wrist. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do this,”.
He tilts his head, giving you a look that you never were one to argue with. “Fine, Fine. Thank you sooo much. I love it,” you say as you launch yourself onto him, pulling him in for a warm hug.
He wraps his arms around you tightly and laughs into your shoulder. His hand runs up and down your back as you run your fingers through his soft hair. You weren’t sure how long you both were hugging; you were waiting for him to pull away, but he was waiting for you to pull away. But at the same time, neither of you really wanted to pull away.
You appreciated the glamorous gift from him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your belly when you opened the box. Little did you know this bracelet was his first official purchase from his contract money. He knew that once the money hit his account, he wanted to buy you something to show how much he cared for you, the only girl that has been by his side through thick and thin.
End of flashback
Last night’s thoughts were no longer in your head as you reminded yourself that Joe was just your best friend. Nothing more, and nothing less. There was no reason to ruin your bond with a silly little pipe dream.
You heard your phone buzz from what was probably a text from Joe. You opened the text, laughing at the text, which was a little inside joke you two had made over the years.
Joe: getaway car
“Getaway Car” was a term you both would use whenever you needed to escape something. Whether it was wanting to leave a college party because you were feeling uncomfortable, wanting to leave an awkward situation, or like right now, when either of you needed a break from life and needed to do something fun. All you would say to each other was “getaway car” and you’d know what was up.
You smiled at the text, grabbed your purse, and made your way out the door and down to his car.
Meanwhile, Joe was humming along to the song playing on his aux, ‘Lovers Rock’ by TV Girl. You both had made a shared Spotify playlist years ago back at OSU and would often listen to the playlist whenever you were together, so naturally he had to play it on the way to the party. This song was clearly your addition as Joe’s music taste was a little different, but he’d learn to enjoy songs like this because of you.
You also used to listen to this playlist during the time Joe was away at LSU and you would miss talking to him since he was extremely busy. He would do the same on those nights when he was alone and couldn’t sleep because he would be missing your silly little movie nights, thinking about if you were having these movie nights with anyone else while he was away.
You made your way out of your apartment building, spotted Joe’s car, and walked over to it. You knocked on the window since he was too busy staring off into space to notice you walk over. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise but then relaxed as he realized it was just you. He unlocks the door which you swing open, hopping inside and letting out a deep breath.
“Woo, it’s freezing out there,” you say as you rub your hands together for some warmth.
He stares at you up and down, taking in your outfit which you looked stunning in, his eyes stopping at your wrist which was decked with the diamond bracelet he got you. A smile creeps on his face, which you notice.
“You look really beautiful,” He smiles as he puts the car into drive and exits the parking lot.
You blushed at his compliment as you also took in what he was wearing. Black jeans and a dark green sweater along with one of his many diamond chains. He looked so good right now. The way his hair naturally fell into place, the way his mouth was curled up into a smile, and the way his sweater fit perfectly around his muscular arms. He just looked so good.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Burrow,” you tease.
“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” he smiles over at you.
“Anytime,” you smile back. “Remember, just say ‘getaway car’ if you wanna leave if you get overwhelmed or something,”.
“Aye-Aye, Captain,” he salutes.
You take note of the song playing in the car and you blush again, and then hear Joe singing a bit of the song under his breath.
"While the others talk, We were listening to lovers rock, In her bedroom," he mumbles.
“Lovers Rock?” You question. “Damn, someone’s music taste def rubbed off on you,”.
“Actually, it’s our playlist that’s on right now. But yeah, I’ve learned to enjoy this kinda music. Might be because of a certain someone,” he shrugs.
“Hmm, whoever she is must have excellent taste,” you say as you turn up the volume.
“Oh trust me,” he says looking over at you, the look on his face sending shivers down your spine. “She definitely does,”.
A short drive later, you both arrive at the party. Joe turns the car off, hops out, and jogs over to your side, helping you out of the car before you can even open the door.
“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you reach to close the car door, but he beats you to it.
“For you? Always,” he winks as he closes your door and loops your arm around his, leading you into the party. You blush at the contact, but why were you blushing? He’s just being friendly, right?
Before you can dive deeper into those thoughts again, you find yourself already inside the party. soft Christmas music was playing over the speakers as the room was filled with people. You could see why he didn’t want to go now, especially alone. There were a bunch of food stations around the room, holiday photo ops, Christmas games, and the whole 9 yards. It was all a little overwhelming and it looked like Christmas threw up all over the party venue.
“Merry Christmas,” you whisper.
“See why I didn’t wanna come here alone?” he laughs.
“Ohh yeah,” you nod as he leads you over to your friends.
“Joe! Y/N!,” Jess says as she gets up from the table, a huge grin on her face.
“Hey Jess,” you chirp as you pull away from Joe’s arm to hug your friend.
“Hi Jess,” Joe smiles. “Where’s Sam?”.
“Oh, I think he’s over by the drinks with Ja’Marr and Ted,” she says as she pulls away from the hug.
Joe looks over at you and you already know what he is going to ask, “Go,” you laugh. “I’ll be here with Jess. Yell if you need me?”.
“You got it,” he smiles as he walks over to the guys.
“I guess Joe strung you along with him tonight?” Jess asks as she sits back down, pulling out the chair next to her for you.
“Yeah,” you laugh as you sit down. “He didn’t wanna go and asked if I could go with him to make it more tolerable,”.
“Sounds like Joe,” she laughs. “He really hasn’t changed since college has he? He always used to drag you along to all the parties,”.
“Not at all,” you smile as you see him laughing with the guys.
“So, first thoughts about the party? Since it’s your first time here,” she asks as she takes a sip of her drink.
“Verrry Christmasy and grand. Maybe a little Overwhelming?” you sigh.
“That sounds about right,” she laughs, looking up and smiling, prompting you to turn your head.
Joe was walking over, a grin on his face and a drink in his hand. “I got you your favorite,” he says, placing the Peach Mojito down in front of you.
“Thank You,” you smile up at him, squeezing his hand for a second.
“I’m not drinking tonight so make sure you drink for me too,” he says.
“Say less,” you say while you pick up your delicious drink.
“You good though?” He asks.
“I’m great, go with the guys,” you say, flashing him a reassuring smile.
“Okay. But if you need anything, just come over,” he says.
“Same goes for you,” you say as he gives you two thumbs up before walking away.
“Always making sure you’re good before he does anything else. Classic Joe,” Jess smiles, causing you to freeze for a second. He always did that though, right? That’s just what he does with all his friends, not just you.
“No big deal,” you whisper to yourself.
“Hm?” Jess asks.
“Oh nothing, just talking to myself,” you brush off. “So wait. Did Joe go to the party last year?” you ask, changing the subject as you take a sip of your drink. That question was floating through your mind all day, and you needed to know the answer. He didn’t take you last year but he definitely went, but with who?
“Mhm,” she nods. “He went with Stella,”.
Your heart drops when she says that name. “Ohh right, his ex,” you sigh.
“Yup,” she nods.
His ex-girlfriend Stella. You didn’t really know much about her since you only talked to her a couple of times. One day she was in the suite, then suddenly she wasn’t. You didn’t push Joe to tell you what happened, especially since he didn’t seem too upset about it. All he told you was that they both just didn’t work.
“What happened between them? You know I usually don’t push him about his love life,”.
“Oh I know,” she laughs. “I don’t really know the full story myself. All Sam told me was that Joe felt like it didn’t fit. Like it wasn’t really what he was looking for relationship-wise or person-wise,”.
“Interesting,” you say as you sip your drink. You rarely interacted with his girlfriends. Not just because they wouldn’t stick around so why bother, but also because you felt like they didn’t really like your vibe for some reason. Maybe it was because he would always talk about you and spend time with you, but did they care that much? You were just friends anyway and you thought that was obvious.
Joe’s POV
“Sooo, you brought Y/N?” Ja’Marr teases.
“Yes… I did,” you say, taking a sip of your water.
“Anything going on over there,” Sam teases as he pats your shoulder.
“What? With me and Y/N?” You scoff. “Please, we would never-”.
“Now don’t lie to me Burrow,” Ja’Marr says. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t go running to her if she looked at you that way,”.
“Ja’Marr is right,” Ted adds. “It’s kinda obvious you have a thing for her,”.
“Are you guys drunk?” You scoff. “What’s with the sudden attack?”.
“Nah, but you might be,” Ja’Marr says. “Wake up Man. You clearly like her. You’re always talking about her, you’re always with her and don’t forget all those times at LSU when you’d be going on about how you wished she was with you right now. Those feelings ain’t die that easily,”.
“There’s a reason that everyone thought and still thinks that she’s your girlfriend,” Sam says.
“That’s just overly invasive fans and their stupid speculation,” you deflect.
“Mmm, not to mention, have there been any ladies on your radar since Stella? You both broke up in January which was 11 months ago. And the reason was that you didn’t think she was the right person for you,” Ted says.
“Mhm, and does the right person that you’re looking for happen to be sitting there next to my girlfriend?” Sam adds as points over at you.
You look over at her, smiling as you see her laughing like a hyena at something Jess said. She looked angelic as the soft glow of the lights reflected off her beautiful face; her cute laugh caught your attention even though you were so far away from each other in the crowded room.
Deep down, you knew they were right. You didn’t want to admit it, but you did have a thing for her and have had a thing for her since OSU. You never brought up those feelings to anyone, not even Y/N. You didn’t know if she felt the same way about you and you were too scared that you’d ruin your friendship if she didn’t feel the same way.
Those feelings even stuck around at LSU. They actually got stronger since you were away from her for so long. But you once again didn’t want to screw up your bond, so you repressed those feelings as much as you could and tried to distract yourself, but distractions were only temporary. That’s also why none of your girlfriends suck around. They weren’t what you were looking for and you weren’t invested. What you were looking for had always been by your side since Day 1, but you just didn’t know what to do about it without risking your friendship. You knew you loved her, and she knew that you loved her as a friend. But she didn’t know that you loved her a lot more than how just friends loved each other.
She was the perfect girl. Any man would be lucky to have her as his girlfriend. She was stunning, genuine, funny, fearless, the epitome of a dream girl. Her being your girlfriend was a dream, but it probably would never happen. It never happened all these years you had known each other, so why now?
But what if she liked you back? You wouldn’t know because you never tried that door, even though you had the key in your pocket all along.
End of Joe’s POV
The party flew by quickly as you talked with the WAGs for a little, ate some yummy food, and Joe made his rounds as QB1 talking to as many people as he could before his social battery ran out. Occasionally, he’d look over at you if he got a little nervous or overwhelmed. The mere sight of you always calmed him down. And once his battery died, he found himself sitting next to you, as usual.
Joe’s conversation with the guys still lingered in his mind as he watched you chat and drink with your friends. He didn’t know what to do about the feelings he was feeling towards you and how to handle them, so he decided to let it be and just let things flow the way they were. If something was going to happen, it would. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t. Forcing something would be the last thing he’d ever do with you.
You were extra giggly for the past hour, definitely drunk since you were on your 4th, maybe 5th drink of the night. You weren’t really sure anymore since you and the other girls did shots at the bar earlier, so it was definitely more than 5.
“Y/N, how many drinks have you had,” Joe asks as he looks over at you.
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Numbers are funny,” you giggle as you grab his arms. “You look really pretty tonight, Joey,” you giggle as you grab another drink. “Have you thought about being a male model? I heard Calvin Klein does some pretty fun shots. The girlies would lose it. I know I would,” you giggle.
Joe’s eyes widened as he blushed a little. You were clearly out of your mind drunk and he knew exactly what would happen when you got this wasted. You’d be all giggly, then you’d have the zoomies, and then you’d crash, hard. He couldn’t have this happen at the party in front of everyone and he knew you’d kick his ass if he let you act like this in front of them.
“Okayyy, I think that’s enough drinks for tonight,” he says, taking your drink out of your hand.
“Noooo,” you whine as you reach for the drink. “It’s so good though,”.
“And so is weed but you don’t see me being high all the time,” he jokes as he pushes the drink further away from you.
You raise your eyebrow at him and say, “That’s funnyyyy. Those shades are glued to your face for a reason,”.
He stares at you for a few seconds, taking in every detail of your face. How your glossy lips were curled up into a smile, how little strands of your hair were falling onto your face, and how you were practically glowing in the soft light of the room.
“I don’t think you’d particularly enjoy being crossfaded,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Do you have some right now? Let’s test it out,” You say as your eyes light up.
Oh hell no. How drunk were you? Joe thought to himself. “Y/N,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes, grabbing both your hands.
“What?” You giggle softly as you play with the wristbands on his wrist.
“Getaway Car,” he says.
You immediately sit up in your chair and turn serious at the words that left his mouth, reminding you what those words meant and what they were used for. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”.
“I’m fine,” he laughs as he grabs your hand that was playing with his wristbands. “But you’re not. You’re 2 seconds away from falling over,”.
“What do you mean? I’m amazingggg,” you laugh as you stand up to prove your point, almost falling over but Joe places his hands on your hips, catching you before you can. His big warm hands were firmly holding you in place as heat climbed up your body at his electric touch.
“Yeaah, we’re going home now,” he says as he gets up from his chair, not giving you a second to protest. He grabbed your waist with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall over as you said your goodbyes and made your final lap around the room. The hand that was wrapped around your waist caused butterflies to fill your belly. His touch was so gentle and fulfilling, yet had you craving more.
He led you out to the car, his hand still gripping your waist, as you were going on about how much you loved Christmas.
“I just love giving gifts,” you giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s sooo fun getting to see everyone’s reactions when they open the gifts I give them. Speaking of, what do you want for Christmas Joey?”.
“Nothing,” Joe smiles. “I already have everything I want,” he says, looking down at you.
You pause for a few seconds as your drunken mind tries to process what he said. You didn’t see him look down at you, but you could feel his gaze on you. He wasn’t talking about you, was he? He was definitely just talking about his life and career.
“That’s funny. I already got your birthday gift down for next Sunday, but you gotta meet me halfway for Christmas,” you say, quickly dodging those thoughts again.
“Mmm, still don’t want anything. For either occasion in fact,” he says as you reach the car. He removes his hand from your waist to open your door and then helps you sit inside.
“Well too bad,” you smile as he sits in the driver’s seat. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,”.
“Have fun,” he says as he connects his phone to the Bluetooth; your playlist once again playing on the speakers.
You fall back into your seat and bob your head along to the music as Joe pulls the car out of the parking spot, and leaves the party venue. A few minutes later, you’ve made it onto the highway. Your head is leaning against the comfy headrest as you look over at Joe. His tan skin was shining in the moonlight and his pink lips were curled up into a smile. You move your head to look out the window, taking in the gorgeous view of the Cinncinati Skyline, and then notice that Joe drove past the exit that you would take to get downtown to your apartment.
“Joe, you missed the exit,” you say as you flip your head back over to him.
“I know,” he laughs.
“Uhhh, well are you gonna go a different way or?” you mumble.
“Nah, you’re way too drunk to be left alone tonight. We’re going back to my place,” he says.
“Joe, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine on my own and I don’t wanna intrude,” you say, sitting up in your seat.
“Intrude on what? It’s just me in that big-ass house,” he laughs. “Having some company won’t hurt,”.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Positive. I know how you get when you’re this drunk and I would be a terrible friend to make you deal with that alone,” he laughs.
“Yeahh,” you trail off. “You’re such a great..friend,”. It pained you a little to say “friend” and you weren’t entirely sure why. It also pained Joe a little to hear you say “friend”. If only you would put “boy” in front of it, he thought to himself.
“So it’s settled then. You’re getting the Burrow treatment tonight,” he winks, looking over at you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
“Uhhh, are we still talking about hangover care or?” you joke, breaking out into a fit of laughter.
“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” he chuckles as he shakes his head.
You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window again, watching the cars pass by one by one you let out a content sigh and got comfy in the car seat again. But then, the song on the aux changed, immediately catching your attention and causing you to flip your head back to him.
Joe’s eyes light up as he hears the soft music playing in the background, recognizing the song instantly and raising the volume.
“Ohh yeah,” you say, moving up in your seat and swaying your shoulders as you recite the song lyrics.
“Because I'm eighteen, And I still live with my parents. Yeah, they're not like yours,” you belt out as you close your eyes and dance in your seat.
“Well, yours are more understanding. I've never fell in love, I've saved those feelings for you,” Joe sings, looking right over at you as he sings that last bit. He watches you cutely dance around in your seat, his heart softening as he takes in the moment. Something about you sitting in his car seat, after a late night, on the way back to his house, made him feel all giddy inside.
“So let's do all the stupid shit that young kids do. It's me and you, youuu,” you sing as you open your eyes and point at Joe, who looks a little..lovestruck?
Lovestruck? Please, as if he would ever feel that about you out of all people, you thought to yourself. The alcohol in your system was really messing with your mind right now.
About 20 minutes later, Joe pulled into the driveway of his house, which was massive. He definitely had upgraded from his last house, just as he had hoped to and just as you said he would do. It was just him in this big house, all alone. He would often get bored since he didn’t have anyone around to keep him company, so he was more than ecstatic to have you over for the night.
After parking in the garage, he helps you inside the house. He walks you over to the kitchen island, pulling out a barstool with his leg, and motioning for you to sit down.
“First order of business, Water and Advil,” he says as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, then moves to open the drawer to grab the bottle of Advil. He pulls out two tablets and hands them to you along with the water.
“Thank you,” you say after you wash down the medicine with the water.
“Second order of business, getting you something comfy to wear,” he says, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the stool. His warm hand molded perfectly against yours as he led you up the stairs to his bedroom.
“But I don’t have any clothes here,” you mumbled as he pulled you into his room, still holding your hand.
“That’s okay, you can just wear one of my big shirts,” he says as drops your hand and walks into his closet, returning to the room after a few moments with a purple LSU shirt in hand. “Is this good?” he asks.
“Perfect,” you whisper as you take the shirt from his hand. “Be right back,” you smile as you walk into his bathroom.
You peel off your clothes from tonight, placing them into a neat pile on the vanity as you slip on his shirt. It was massive on you, no surprise there though. You smiled as you read the text on the shirt; it was his championship t-shirt from when he won the Natty. You scrunched up the fabric, bringing it to your nose, taking a deep breath, and remembering that amazing night.
Flashback to 2020 – New Orleans, Louisiana
You looked over at the scoreboard, the score reading 42-25 just as the clock was winding down with only a few minutes left in the 4th quarter.
“He did it, he really fucking did it,” you whispered as tears started to fall from your eyes, your friends all jumping up and down around you and screaming at the top of their lungs.
“3..2..1,” Lydia screamed as purple and yellow confetti filled the stadium. The LSU tigers had just won the national championship, Joe had just won the national championship. After years of hard work and dedication, never backing down from a challenge, his dreams had finally come true, and you got to be apart of it and witness it.
After watching the trophy presentation and the celebrations on the field from the stands, you made your way down to the field, hoping to get a moment with Joe before he was pulled in for media.
You made your way through the crowds of reporters, players, and families in search of him, but you literally could not figure out where he was.
“Did he already get pulled in for media?” you asked yourself as you looked around the field, your smile dropping.
Suddenly, you felt two arms snake around your waist and pull you back into a warm embrace. “What the F-”.
“Calm down, Y/N, it’s just me,” he says, swaying you back and forth. You could recognize that voice anywhere, even in the loudest settings. You place your hands on his and turn your head up, meeting his baby-blue eyes.
“Joe,” you whisper, feeling tears fill your eyes again.
“Hi,” he mumbled before you flipped around in his arms and looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.
“You did it,” you said, crying into his shoulder. “I’m s- so proud of you,”.
“Hey, Hey, why are you crying?” he asked, rubbing circles on your back for comfort.
You pulled your face out from his shoulder and said, “Because, you’re a national champion now, Silly. This is what you’ve been working for and it finally happened. I’ve been fortunate enough to be by your side through the whole thing and can’t help but get emotional when my best friend just had his dream come true,”.
He stays silent for a few moments before he pushes your head back into his chest. “Thank you. For everything,” he says, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He remembered how you had been nothing but supportive of his dreams since you met. There were days back at OSU when he would come back to his dorm after practice, feeling shitty and lost since nothing felt like it was going his way, and you would drop whatever you were doing at the moment to go and comfort him since he didn’t want to be alone. Those many late nights you spent trying to help him study and catch up on his work so that he could focus on football during the day. And nothing would ever come close to how you refused to miss a single one of his games, even if you were watching back in Ohio. He remembers you telling him that at your friend's bachelorette party, you had the game pulled up on your phone and sat at the bar the entire night watching instead of doing shots and dancing with your friends.
The day he decided that he was going to LSU was hard for both of you. He could tell how you were holding back from telling him how you really felt, which was incredibly sad and upset, but you knew he had to do this for himself, and he watched as you plastered a smile on your face and cheered him on, even if it broke your heart.
“You are the most strongest, dedicated, and talented person I know. I am so proud of youuu,” you squeal into his chest.
Joe felt fireworks in his heart as he listened to you go on and on about how well he did in the game. Those feelings he had for you were so hard to avoid, and right now he felt like ripping the bandaid off and telling you how he felt straight up. But he couldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your soft lips right now and tell you that he loved you more than anything in the world, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he just enjoyed the feeling of you with him right now during one of the happiest moments in his life. There was no need to ruin it with his pipe dream.
End of flashback
You spent a few moments fixing your hair and washing your makeup off before turning off the lights and joining him back outside, but you stopped as you realized something.
“Fuck, I don’t have shorts on,” you realize. You were just in his shirt, your white lace panties, and your socks, and didn’t know what to do. The shirt was big enough to cover your upper thighs and if you avoided any movement that caused the shirt to ride up, you would be fine.
“He won’t care regardless,” you whisper as you shake your head and leave the bathroom.
While you were changing, Joe had changed into a pair of sweat shorts and a short-sleeved tee and was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Aren’t you cold? It’s December,” you giggle as you join him in the room again.
He looks up from his phone, heat rising up his cheeks as he takes in the sight of your bare legs and your body which was clothed by one of his shirts. Your cheeks were a little rosy, definitely an effect of all the alcohol you consumed. A feeling of nervousness now filled his body as he watched you put your stuff down on his table, the way your hips swayed from side to side, and how your hair bounced with each step. He realized that he hadn’t given you any shorts or boxers, so you were definitely just in your underwear right now, and that made him want to pass out. Why did he feel like a teenage boy all of a sudden? He had seen you in pajamas many times so why was he feeling like this? Whatever it was, it definitely was not helping the thoughts he had about your relationship earlier in the night because here you were, standing in his room, looking absolutely incredible.
“You tell me,” he says as he raises his eyebrows.
“Fair point,” you laugh as you walk over to his bookshelf, a photo frame catching your eye. He carefully watches you as you walk over to the picture, his heart feeling like it is about to beat out of his chest as he realizes what you are looking at.
It was a photo of the two of you from one of his games at LSU. He was looking down at you, a huge grin on his face as if he was laughing at something you said. You were looking back up at him, smiling at his expression. You both were almost lost in each other’s eyes in this photo, something you hadn’t noticed before. This was Joe’s favorite photo of the two of you and he had managed to keep it to himself, up until now.
Flashback to 2019 - LSU
You had flown into Baton Rouge early this morning and were going to surprise Joe at his game tonight since he had no idea you were coming. He had been begging you for weeks to come down for a weekend to see him because he missed you, but you kept pushing it off with lazy excuses so you could pull one on him. But little did he know, you had been planning a trip to see him for the past month.
He caught a glimpse of you in the stands earlier, his entire face lighting up and his heart soaring. He thought he was dreaming for a second as he saw you sitting with his mom, wearing his number, and screaming his name, You waved over at him before the game started, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him as he was pulled into pregame warmups. Now, you were waiting in the tunnel as the game finished, eagerly waiting to see your best friend.
You were chatting with Joe’s Mom as you waited for him to come out from the locker room. A few minutes later, you heard an all too familiar voice behind you.
“You fucking liar,” he laughs.
You spin around, your heart skipping a beat as you see Joe standing in front of you.
You walk over to him, launching yourself into his open arms and letting out a squeal as he tightly wraps them around your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground and swaying you from side to side. “I mm- missed you,” you sputtered, trying to hold back your emotions.
“And you said you were too busy with Jake’s cousin's wedding this weekend,” he says, his hand rubbing your lower back.
“Please, as if I would go to the wedding of my ex’s cousin rather than flying down to see my best friend who I haven’t seen in 5 months,” you say as he lets go of you, slowly sliding you back down to the floor.
“Ex?” He asked.
“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you over the phone. We broke up,” you say as you meet his eyes.
“Really?” He asks, trying hard not to smile. He felt bad that you and Jake broke up, but part of him felt a little happy that there wasn’t any other guy in your life taking his space at the moment. Jake got to do everything Joe would do with you but couldn’t because he was away. The movie marathons, game nights, trying new restaurants, arcade runs, shopping, building legos, literally everything, he got to do, and it made Joe a little jealous.
He never really got too involved in your dating life. He felt like it was uncharted territory since he was your best friend and a guy. It would be a little weird if he was getting involved. He also didn’t want to give the guys the wrong idea about your friendship. Although, he did have moments where he wished that it was a little more than just a friendship.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just didn’t feel right. He didn’t seem invested in the relationship lately anyway,”.
“Mr. Lovebombing not being invested? Shocker,” he teases. You felt your smile drop a little bit at his teasing. Yes, you were over him, but it still stung a little bit since you were pretty unlucky in the boyfriend department and this was just another addition.
He immediately felt bad for saying that, knowing how you felt about relationships, so he pulled you into a side hug. “Sorry, that was jerky,” he mumbles.
“It’s okay,” you say as you pat his chest. “I should’ve seen it coming,”.
“Well if it makes you feel better, I never liked him anyway, he laughs.
“Joe,” you say as you playfully swat his arm while pulling away from the hug.
“Hey, can you blame me? He doesn’t like ‘The Office’. That’s a crime,” he deadpans.
“I missed you so much,” you laughed, staring deeply into his eyes. God you missed him. You missed his cheery attitude, his million-dollar smile, and the comfort you’d feel when you were with him. Joe could turn your mood around in an instant and make you forget about everything bad in your life. No other guy could ever make you feel the way he did, it was an irreplicable feeling.
“Me too,” he sighed. “5 months is way too long and you’re so far away,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.
“I know but hey, I’m here now. And even if it’s for a few days, I’m here,” you say, gently rubbing his bicep.
He looks back up at you with a smile, “Yeah, you are,”. He looked into your chocolaty eyes, searching them for a few moments, hoping to find something in them that he’d been waiting for, but he was interrupted by your laughter.
“They might have to force me onto the plane back to Ohio. I’ve been here for a day and I don’t want to go back,” you giggle.
“I can sneak you into my apartment,” he shrugs. “Just act like you’re on the football team and you’re golden,” he jokes.
While you two were talking, Joe’s mom snapped a few photos of your reunion, neither of you noticing the camera snaps.
“Oh yeahh. I’ll totally fit right in,” you say, shaking your head. “I can be your new star Wide Receiver,”.
“Ja’Marr and Justin might have a problem with that,” he shrugged.
“They won’t when they see how great of a duo we make, on the field and off,” you wink.
End of flashback
“I haven’t seen this one,” you smile as you look back at him. “Gatekeeping, Burrow?”.
“It’s one of my faves so yes, yes I am gatekeeping,” he shrugs.
“Well, I’m stealing it,” you say, picking up the frame.
“Uhh, no you’re not,” he says, slowly standing up from the bed.
“Ohh yes, I am,” you tease as you turn around to meet his eyes. He walks over to you as you slowly walk backward, moving away from him.
“Okayyy, I think it’s time for bed,” he says as he reaches out to grab you, but you take another leap back towards the door.
“Nopeee,” you smirk. “Catch me if you can,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him before running out the door.
“We are not about to do this,” Joe mumbles as he runs out the door, following you as you run through the halls of his house. Giggles and Laughter echo throughout the house as you run down the stairs, looking back a couple of times to see if he is still there, and he is. Even though he was exhausted, he was enjoying chasing you throughout the halls of his house. The usually quiet halls were now filled with your shrieks and giggles, a sound that he loved to hear. You run over to the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as Joe runs to the couch to grab a pillow.
“Joe!” you scream as he grabs a couch pillow, launching it straight at your head but you quickly duck.
“You asked for it,” he laughed.
“Oh, it’s on,” you grin as you place the photo on the island, making sure it didn’t get caught in the battle.
“Whatcha gonna do?” he smirks as he places his hands on his hips, bouncing from side to side.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say as you slowly walk over to the comfy chair next to the dining table, grabbing a stray couch pillow and hiding it behind your back.
He notices you hiding a pillow behind your back, so he leans down and grabs another one. While he was doing this, you ran over and started hitting him, gently of course, with the soft pillow.
“Got youu,” you giggle as you smack him with a pillow repeatedly.
“Nope,” he smirks as he grabs his pillow and swings at your abdomen. His strength was unmatched so the hit sent you back a little, almost causing you to fall over.
“Oh, now you’re done for,” you grin as you attack him with the soft pillow and he does the same to you. Giggles and squeals filled the room as you playfully battled it out, neither of you willing to give up. But soon, the teasing turned into a full-blown pillow fight as you both unleashed your inner children, swinging your pillows with wild abandon. Feathers flew everywhere, coating the floor in a soft, white blanket. A couple of swings later, you catch Joe off guard, tackling him to the ground as you place your legs on each side of his hips, caging him in on the floor.
You hold your pillow above your head in mock triumph. He wriggled beneath you, trying to grab the pillow away, but you held it just out of reach, teasing and taunting him.
“I winnn,” you laugh as you look down, smiling at Joe's disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. You were so caught up in the childish moment that you didn’t even realize you were straddling his hips right now, and his hands were resting firmly on your hips. Your shirt had ridden up your thighs a little and you were definitely showing a little too much down there, but you were so caught up in the moment that you couldn’t care less.
“Zoomies?” Joe giggles as he looks into your eyes.
“Zoomies,” you nod as you throw the pillow to the side, trying to catch your breath. A million thoughts were now rushing into your head at once. You were literally on top of him right now, but he didn’t even seem bothered by it. It was like he was enjoying it. Was he enjoying it? You move your hand down, placing each one on his biceps and digging your nails into his soft skin.
Joe was trying so hard not to say something about how you were on top of him right now. He was just enjoying the sight of you above, as silly and sultry as that sounded. He looked down and noticed your bare thighs and the shirt riding up and you seemingly weren’t wearing anything under it other than your underwear, just like he had thought. God, you just looked so pretty and sexy, he thought to himself. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were blush pink, but you still looked gorgeous. You seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and he was trying so hard not to ruin the moment by saying something stupid.
“You look so pretty,” he thought out loud, his face turning red as he realized he said that to you.
“Thank you,” you smile back, internally screaming at his comment. Was he being extra affectionate tonight, or were you just delusional? You definitely looked like a mess right now, and in no way did you look pretty, but his compliment still made your heart soar. A soft yawn left your lips as you rubbed your eyes, now feeling the ‘crash’ part of your hangover.
“Crash time?” he asks as he rubs your thighs, your stomach fluttering at the contact. Why was he being so lovey-dovey right now? His soft hands massaged the plush skin of your thighs as you stared deeply into his baby blues, trying to make sense of what was going on.
“Yeah,” you say as another yawn escapes your lips. You get off of him, slowly standing up as you are feeling the aftermath of the zoomies. Joe holds out his hands just in case you fall over as he gets up.
“You can sleep in my bed and I can take the couch. The guest bedroom is kinda a mess right now since I’m using it for storage until they finish the basement,” he says.
“Hell no. I don’t wanna kick you out of your own bed,” you say as you pick up the pillows from the floor and put them back on the couch, your legs a little wobbly and your head feeling a little woozy. “I’ll take the couch,”.
“No way. You take the bed,” he says as he picks up the stray feathers from the floor.
“Not happening, Joseph,” you mumble as you help him gather the feathers.
He heaves out a sigh, “I’m too tired to fight you on this. Why don’t we just share it?”.
Your heart skips a beat as you look up at him, the look on his face telling you he is 100% serious. Although you and Joe had been friends for years, you had never slept in the same bed together.
“As long as you’re not a kicker,” he jokes.
“Please, I sleep like a baby,” you say as you walk over to the trash can, throwing the feathers into the bin. “Besides, I’m more of a cuddler and not a kicker,”.
“So that’s a yes?” He asks, trying not to sound too eager, especially at the mention of cuddling.
“Fineee,” you smile. “If you insist,”.
Internally, Joe was screaming. He told himself that he’d let things flow the way they were and let things happen naturally, that’s if something were to happen. He didn’t know if he was just reading into things a little too much, but was it just him or were you acting a little different around him?
Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. There was no reason for you to get so worked up over sharing a bed with Joe. It was nothing, just you sleeping right next to him, together under the covers, so incredibly close to his body. It was definitely nothing.
A little later, you're getting ready for bed as Joe brings out an extra pillow for you. You walk over to the bed, open the soft covers, and slide in. His bed was so comfortable; so soft and like a cloud. He turns off the lights and plugs in his phone before joining you in bed. Your heart was beating so fast as he moved into the bed next to you. There was no reason for this to be weird, but you were making it weird.
You moved back against the pillow, sliding down the bed, and pulling the covers up to protect you from the chilly room and to hide your nervousness.
“Did you have fun tonight?” You asked Joe as you stared up at the ceiling.
“Actually? I did. All thanks to you,” he said.
“Really?” You giggled, moving your head to look at him. You could barely make out his face in the darkness, but you could tell he was looking at you.
“Yup. You make everything more enjoyable and bearable for me,” he said, turning his head back over and staring up at the ceiling. “Did you have fun? I hope these football things aren’t getting too repetitive for you,”.
“Not at all repetitive. You know I love doing this stuff with you. I needed a break from life and this was just the thing. Thanks for bringing me with you,” you smiled.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You know I’m always here when you need something, even if it’s an escape from life for a day,” he says as he moves his hand down to yours, entwining your fingers together as he gives your hand a soft squeeze. Butterflies filled your stomach at his soft touch and meaningful words.
“Besides, I enjoy having you as my permanent plus 1,” he laughs.
“Permanent?” You ask, feeling the heat rise up your body again.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having much luck in the girlfriend department,”.
“Not saying you’re filling in those shoes and are a filler,” he says, quickly trying to soften his words because of how jerky it sounded. “I just like having you with me all the time, Ya know? That’s prob why people think you’re my girlfriend”.
“It’s okay, Joe. I know what you mean,” you say, adding a fake laugh into the mix. Your stomach did a somersault when he said that. Were you really about to have this conversation about that topic right now?
“But please, I could name at least 100 girls who would be standing at your doorstep in an instant,” you giggle.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want any of those girls,” he says, craning his head over to face you, his hand still holding yours, now tighter.
“I want someone who matches my vibe. Someone who makes me feel normal and doesn’t constantly remind me that I’m a millionaire quarterback. Someone that I can take home to my parents and can feel comfortable around. Someone who can enjoy the simplicity of playing Smash-Bros and building Legos as a date. Someone that appreciates the real me and not the superficial flashy shit,” he says. As he was saying all of this, the girl he pictured in his mind was you. He was describing you. You were what he wanted.
“You didn’t find that with Stella?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was implying.
“Nah. She was great at first but as time went on I realized that she was more into the lifestyle of dating a football player than the actual relationship part. And I also didn’t feel fireworks with her,” he said.
“Ah yes. Fireworks. Just like your Mom told us,” you remembered. His mom had told you at dinner a few years ago that when she met his dad, she felt fireworks. Fireworks are what you feel when you meet the right person, according to Robin. You hadn’t felt fireworks with any other guy other than Joe, but you never told that to anyone. And he felt the same. He felt fireworks every time he was with you and he’d never felt that with any girl.
“Yeah so I’ll probably die alone, he jokes.
“Please, we’ll die alone together,” you say as you take your hand out of hold and playfully shove his shoulder.
“I’m assuming there’s no guys on your radar?” He wonders, hoping you would say no.
“Nope. There hasn’t been any since Noah,” you replied.
“That was 8 months ago,” Joe gasped.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” you laughed. “You know I’ve never had luck with guys. None of them match my vibe and want something else out of the relationship that I don’t agree with. I want someone real, genuine, and serious,”.
“I could name 100 guys that would be at your doorstep in an instant,” he says, echoing your words from earlier.
“Doesn’t mean I want any of them,” you say, echoing his words.
“Fair point,” he laughs.
“Yeah. So I’ll die alone too,” you joke.
“Technically not alone if we die alone together. We’ll have each other,” he said.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you yawned, feeling another wave of tiredness
“Sleepy time?” Joe chuckles.
“Mhmmm,” you groan as you stretch out your arms. “Don't ever let me drink that much again,” you mumble as you pull the covers higher.
“You got it. Goodnight, Y/N,” he smiles as he turns his head over to you.
“Night, Joey,” you smile before turning over and letting out a deep breath.
20 minutes passed by and you were still wide awake, not finding comfort in his bed which was odd considering it was like a cloud. Your thoughts about you and Joe were also keeping you from sleeping. Ever since your sister mentioned that you were acting like Joe’s girlfriend yesterday, your head was spiraling and the alcohol from tonight was making it worse. And the conversation you just had with him was making it even more confusing. Sure, you did some girlfriend-type things, but you knew he would never look at you that way. He saw you as a friend and that’s all, at least that’s what you thought.
Suddenly, you felt Joe’s hand creep around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your heart stopped and your body froze from the sudden movement. What the actual fuck was going on.
“Joe?” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes because you were literally about to scream.
“Hm?” He mumbled, half asleep.
“Your arm,” you whispered.
“I’m cold,” he muttered as he held you tighter. “And you’re so warm and comfy,”.
Your heartbeat picked up again as you felt his big hand sprawled out against your belly, not to mention that your ass was literally on his crotch right now. His body, although saying he felt cold, was hot. So very hot.
“Is this weird?” he mumbles, opening his eyes. He really hoped that this didn’t weird you out.
You stayed silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say or do. You didn’t feel weird oddly enough as that sounded. Something about this felt natural and so right.
“It’s okay,” you softly spoke. “I’m good,”.
Joe smiled at your response, feeling like he was flying through the clouds right now as he was practically cuddling with his favorite person. Everything about this just felt so right, and he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Good, you said you were a cuddler so I hope this is comfy,” he mumbled.
You felt your heart exploding as he moved closer to you. His arm around you felt like a safety blanket, protecting you from everything on the outside. A comfortable embrace that you wished you had around you forever. It felt right.
“Trust me, it’s perfect,” you whisper, closing your eyes and losing yourself in his embrace, too tired from the night to fight back.
A few moments later, you were fast asleep, finally feeling comfortable and it was all because of him.
The next morning
Your eyes slowly flutter open as the golden light shines through the windows. You reach out to grab your phone, the time reading 7:35 AM. You felt your head slowly start to throb, a sure result of your hangover from last night. You were just about to get up but you felt a heavy force holding you down.
“What the-” you whisper as you look down, noticing Joe’s hand is still wrapped around your stomach. You had forgotten that you were at his house and in his bed, and he was still wrapped around you.
“Uh oh,” you whisper. You turned your head around and saw Joe sound asleep, looking so adorable as his hair was sprawled out against the pillow and soft snores coming from his mouth. You remember that he brought you here after the party last night, which meant you had no way of getting back home. You didn’t want to wake him up because first, he looked so comfortable right now, and second, you didn’t know how to talk to him after what happened last night. Those thoughts you had about your relationship with Joe only got stronger after the night you had. Although nothing like that happened, your feelings for him surely got more complicated.
“Don’t leave me,” you heard Joe mumble in his sleep.
Your eyes widened at his soft words, was he talking about you? You turned your head around to see if he was awake, but he was still sound asleep and snoring again. He must’ve been sleeptalking, you thought to yourself.
You pulled out your phone again, opening up your messages to beg your friend Lydia to come pick you up. She usually got up early on Saturdays for Pilates so she should respond.
You: emergency! please come pick me up
Lydia: good morning to you too lol. everything alright?
You: everything’s fine I just uhh need a ride home
Lydia: home? where are you??
You: joe’s house
Lydia: oh 👀
You sighed at your friend's text. Now was not the time to have this conversation and you knew exactly what she was going to say. You and Lydia had known each other since Ohio State so she pretty much knew everything about you and Joe’s friendship since you were all a part of the same friend group. She was a huge advocate for you and Joe to be a couple back at OSU, but you always shut her down before she could get too matchmaker-ish. She claimed that she saw something “special” between you two, but your ignorant ass brushed it off over and over, just like how you were doing now.
You: just pls come pick me up
Lydia: on my way ;) be there in 10
You let out a relieved sigh as you carefully peeled Joe’s hand off from your waist, quickly replacing it with a pillow so he wouldn’t feel the difference, and thankfully he didn’t. You walked into the bathroom, grabbed your clothes from last night, and quickly exited his room. You glanced back at him for a few seconds, taking note of the smile on his adorable face and his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow that he thought was your waist.
“Man,” you whispered to yourself as you turned back around and made your way down the stairs.
You waited by the door for Lydia as your mind was exploding with thoughts now that you were sober enough to process everything. What the hell happened last night? Was Joe just being the usual Joe because something felt different about his mannerisms, words, and attitude toward you the entire night? And even this morning, his arm was still around your waist and seemingly wasn’t planning on moving it.
You heard a car pull up and peeked out the window, seeing that it was your bestie. “Thank fuck,” you sighed as you had to escape the scene. You don’t know what you would’ve said to him once he had woken up. Especially since you were 100% in your senses now.
You quickly opened the door, softly shutting it on your way out. You ran over to her car and hopped inside without a second thought.
“Damn, you’re in a rush,” she laughs as she locks the door after you shut it.
“No rush. Just uhh, need to get home,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.
“Whatever you say,” Lydia giggles as she puts the car in drive. “So how was it?” She asks.
“How was what?” You say, raising your eyebrows.
“The sex, dummy,” she laughs.
“What?” You shriek as your eyes widen.
“Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. Is he as good in bed as he is on the field?”.
You stare at her for a few quiet seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter.
“Oh my god,” you laugh as you lean forward.
“Took you long enough. I’ve been saying this would happen for yeaaaars,” she boasts. “Why else would you need me to come to pick you up from Joe’s house at 8 am while you’re wearing what definitely is his t-shirt and I assume no shorts and just panties underneath?” She adds.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” you wheeze. “I was super drunk last night from the Christmas party and he just brought me to his place,”.
“Ahh, so drunken sex? Even better,” she teases as she winks at you.
“Lydia, we didn’t hook up,” you say, your laughter dying down. “He just gave me his shirt so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my outfit from the party,”.
“Okayyy sure, but that still doesn’t explain why you ran out of his house so early in the morning and why he couldn’t take you home,” she said.
“That’s a long story,” you say, taking a deep breath and falling back into your seat.
“We’ve got time,” she laughs.
“I don’t really know,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “My sister mentioned the other day that I’m acting like Joe’s girlfriend and it just got me thinking,” you sigh.
“Oh?” She says, a smile forming on her face.
“And last night was weird. I feel like he was being extra affectionate but I don’t know if that was just the alcohol in my system messing with me. And he was talking to me about how he hadn’t found the right girl yet, how he brings me everywhere and that’s why people think we’re dating, and how I’m his ‘permanent plus 1’ because he likes having me around,”.
“Ohhhhh?” Lydia drags out, her face scrunching up as she tries to hold back from saying something about it.
“Don’t get too excited. I already knew that the general public thought that we were together, but I thought we were over that,”.
“You won’t be able to get over that until you admit the truth. And the truth is that you like him. Like more than just a friend,” Lydia blurts out. “I see it, the public sees it, and I honestly think Joe sees it too,”.
You stay silent for a few seconds, a little taken aback by her observation and not knowing how to respond to her since you can barely make sense of your feelings.
“Oh my god? You like him don’t you?!” She yells as she looks over at you.
“I don’t knowwww,” you said. “There’s a lot of thoughts in my head right now and I don’t know what to think. I feel like he’s been acting differently around me, like more lovey-dovey differently but I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much,” you respond.
“Okay, well what are the thoughts in your head saying?”.
“That I think I like him? Or still like him I guess. But I don’t know if he feels the same and I don’t wanna say anything because if he doesn’t, it’ll fuck up our friendship and I can’t lose him,” you say.
“He’s so sweet and perfect. Joe knows me better than anyone and knows exactly how to cheer me up, calm me down, and make me have fun. I’ve never met anyone like him before and being by his side since day 1 has been a dream but also crazy. And the fact that he hasn't changed since we met is even more crazy. Even with all the money, fame, and attention, he's still Joe. My Joe," you smile. “The same adorable, nerdy, football player that was my lab partner in chemistry freshman year,”.
“Girl, you definitely love him,” your friend says, looking over at you with a straight face.
“Love?” You ask, your heart skipping a beat.
“Yes, love. You’ve known each other since freshman year of college and if I’m not mistaken, those feelings have been there since then. You’re doing the same thing you did back then, letting your overthinking get in the way. You’re too afraid of losing him as a friend, but Y/N, what if he has the same feelings as you? This isn’t a matter of liking a boy, it’s a matter of you being in love with someone who you’ve had feelings for since you both met. That’s years and years of unanswered feelings that were being built up inside of you and spilling out right now,”.
Were you in love with Joe? Have you been in love with him all this time? You find yourself smiling as you imagine you and Joe as a couple. Waking up to his adorable smile and sexy morning voice every day, going on cute little dates with him every week around town, kissing him good luck before every game, getting to curl up on the couch with him after every game, and talking about anything and everything together for hours on end without any limitations. It all sounded like a dream, a dream you wished was reality.
Lydia looked over at your face, seeing you with a huge grin on your face and a blush creeping up on your cheeks.
“I knew it. You love him,” she says as she playfully shoves your shoulder. "There is a reason why none of your relationships work out. The person who you've been waiting for has been right in front of you this entire time,".
“Again, I don’t know,” you giggle. “I don’t wanna say anything to him because I don’t know if he feels the same way,”.
“I get that, I do. You don’t want to risk your friendship, but here’s my advice. Go with the flow. If something’s going to happen, it will. If nothing’s gonna happen, it won’t. Let things unfold naturally and if he’s there and waiting for you at the door, open it and never let him leave,” she says. “And I have a feeling that he’s gonna be at the door,” she adds.
You spent a few seconds thinking about her advice. She was right, if you weren’t overthinking it and he really did feel the same way about you, he would be there. And if you were overthinking it, and he didn’t feel the same, you would accept it, bury those feelings for real this time, and keep the ball rolling.
You just had to wait and see.
To be continued!
part 2 coming soon!
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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him
warnings: none i think !
wc: 1100
Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.
However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.
Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.
However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial.
It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.
To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.
He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.
As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in.
I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.
He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.
All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often.
But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.
He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.
As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.
“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”
“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”
“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.
“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”
He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.
“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.
“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.
“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”
You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.
“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”
He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.
You were the one for him.
#hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro x reader#soshiro x reader#hoshina soshiro#hoshina#kaiju no. 8 x reader#kaiju no 8 x reader#kn8 x reader#IM SORRY I GENUINELY FEEL LIKE I YAPPED FOR SO LONG FOR THIS TO HAVE NOTHING REALLY#LIKE WHAT WAS ALL THAT FOR TRULY#who knows idk#ANYWAYS TYSSM FOR READING OMG#i still do hope u enjoyed i spent a little too long for this to end up the way it ended up#I AM SO EXCITED TO WATCH HOSHINA EP#i feel like rereading kaiju too#SO MANY HAPPY THINGS HAPPENING !!!!#i need to review his characgter i feel like im truly not understanding enough i do not know him well enough#TAGS PLS WORK I BEG
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Can you do more perv vox please 🥺
a/n — watch me drop by SEVEN IN PROGRESS DRAFTS to do this one off handed request. Oh, writers block, where do I even start.
warnings — dom reader, gm reader, sub vox, incredibly pervy and toxic vox, no it doesn’t get healthier in fact it gets worse
summary — Vox and his perverted actions, practically stalkerish behavior and thoughts when infatuated with the reader, and where he ends up because of them.
☆ Perv!Vox definitely watches you on his cameras.
his obsession has gotten so bad that he doesn’t even watch porn to jack off, he watches you.
Anything you’re doing, he fixates on your motions, and studies your every move, all while jerking off like the pathetic loser he is.
Definitely has screenshots from moments of you he really likes, and yes, he will touch himself to them.
Sneaks cameras into your house too, just to be sure.
Image is everything to him, so he manages to keep this secret from everyone else and you very well, when he wants too.
When he’s particularly looking for your attention, he might leave reminisce of the scene out for your view, lotion, a picture of you, etc.
However, only when he can perfectly calculate you finding it, and in a way that doesn’t show the full extent of his creepiness.
god forbid you walk in on him while doing it, but he would probably never let that happen.
☆ Perv!Vox would be very weird about your clothes.
Let’s start off with the least creepy bit, he would absolutely steal your shirts.
And if you lend him one, he doesn’t give it back.
Haha… that’s so weird, actually asking for it back just always kinda slips your mind, coincidentally!
To say he keeps it in good condition wouldn’t be a lie necessarily, at first.
Since you, once again coincidentally, keep forgetting to ask for your things back, he might as well put your shirt to good use.
Who would want such a waste? Hell, Vox would be a worse man for not doing anything with the shirt.
Smelling it while pleasuring himself, or actually just watching you.
Putting on a pillow to hump, so he can imagine you’re there, and that he’s fucking into you ruthlessly.
He would have delusions of dominating your helpless perfect body, as he’s wanted to while watching your beautifully sculpted features on camera, and now with your shirt below him.
He finds he only can really get into the motion if the pillow is wearing your clothes.
Because then, he finds himself bucking uselessly against the fabric, and fuck, getting your shirt all messy!
It’s alright, he can always just get a new one, I mean, who is Vox if not persuasive?
☆ Perv!Vox who desperately denies it when confronted.
Even when caught, he goes back on himself so much, seeming so utterly disgusted at the mention of his actions you almost believe him.
He’s not ashamed, or remorseful, but he is terribly humiliated by the fact he was actually caught.
Hadn’t he been so careful? Only letting you see the side he wanted you to, while keeping such good track of every part of you?
At first, he’s afraid you’d try to leave and cause him to take further actions, that he didn’t want to do.
But you wouldn’t, right? See, something like this getting out… that’s so bad for business!
All press is good press but.. that was more of Val’s motto than his, and his delicate facade had been so famously perfect.
It’s almost sad how he begs on his knees, hints of anger dissolving into anguish, and then into desperation.
You wouldn’t tell anyone, you couldn’t tell anyone, please, he’d do anything, he’d—
fallen right into your trap.
Since he’d do anything, don’t you think you were letting him off easily, by simply stating:
Such a long time of terrible behavior deserves an even longer lasting punishment.
This wasn’t going as planned, he always dreamed of being in charge, but he finds the shame he feels mixing with a nerdiness he only feels around you.
Each night you greet him with a new piece of evidence in his behavior, the camera found in your bathroom flung out on his table, your stolen vibrator you found in his desk, and a few shirts you don’t even remember loosing.
Oh, he doesn’t want this leaked to the press, so he’d better be a good boy and get on his knees.
He begs for forgiveness like a whore at the hands of god, but really, what was the difference?
The panic in his eyes when he realized you remembered to wear sunglasses, and how serious you were with your threats.
But he gets off from that too, the humiliation of it all.
I guess he hadn’t learned his lesson.
#hazbin hotel x reader#inbox open#hazbin hotel#dom reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#vox x reader smut#hazbin vox x reader#vox x you#vox smut#sub vox
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❛ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 愛 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂
✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: never one to trust old men in high positions, you decide to follow your guts and track down your best friend to question him on the rumors. what you didn’t expected was to be forced to sit in a small chair and play tea party with two little girls.
✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: it took me two days to write this, i’m super sick, but i love geto. i also really need to make a masterlist, but i don’t know how to make the link with the name, pls help sos. also reader’s domain name is embarrassing pls ignore it, i’m not good with names. english is not my first language. 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: reader’s cursed technique is basically ‘enhanced’, anything they do is 100x more, and it’s heavenly influenced by their emotions, mostly anger and another one very special.
✶ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: friends to lovers, mostly fluff but has a bit of angst, mentions of murder, blood, violence, reader has no gender specified except one part where they are called ‘Queen’ but you can read as you please. reader is a special grade sorcerer. suggestive theme at the end. happy ending.
✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k
You know the Higher Ups can sense the aggressiveness in your aura. Even behind their so called protection nothing could stop you from slicing them with your bare hands, the thought of that ignites your energy. Behind you, someone gasp.
“I’m going to be gentle and kindly suppose this energy you are emitting comes from your anger towards the criminal Geto Suguru.” A male old voice makes itself present.
“If you want to believe that, then be my guest.” You answer in a heartbeat. Principal Yaga is by your side, that was supposed to be his reunion, but when you heard the talk would be about your best friend, Geto Suguru, you barged in the room before Masamichi.
“You are not supposed to be here, insolent girl.” Another voice, still old and male, speaks to you. You roll your eyes and snicker at it.
“You are talking about an important Special Grade Sorcerer, and I know this talk will reach me eventually. If it is true what you say, is either me or Gojo Satoru you will be sending to try to kill him.” Yaga sighs at your answer, but does not stop you.
“What we say? Haven’t you know? Haven’t you seen the pictures?” The first person ask, voice shaking in anger. “Geto Suguru is a monster who needs to be exterminated, he annihilated a whole village and we have prove to believe his own parents as well.”
“We will not send you, L/n Y/n, for your insolence.” A third leader speaks, much calm and colder than the others. “There will be no such thing as try to kill him, Geto Suguru is certain to die. You and Gojo Satoru may be special graders as well, but your loyalty is stained with the blood of those innocents. Someone else will do the job.”
Principal Yaga’s hand reached your back, you turned to him hesitant, you see his head pointing to the doors outside telling you your time here was over.
You moved faster than anyone could see, leaving the school grounds in mere seconds, you reached the forest and let your anger dissipate in the form of a scream, so loud and so yourself, a barrier was created leaving your throat and splitting the trees in front of you.
“Your cursed technique never fails to amaze me, Y/n.” Gojo appeared behind you, his hands falling from his ears. “Unconditionally, huh? Everything you do, you do majestically. Run, scream, jump, punch…”
“Shut up, Satoru.” The tall boy laughed at that.
“I wonder if it works for all your emotions, don’t you?” Gojo circled you, much like a predator ready to strike. “Your anger is your strong point, am I right?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “Whenever you are angry, you could break Tokyo with just one punch to the floor.”
“Where are you trying to get with that, Gojo?” It had been too long since the last time you addressed your friend as that, your squeezed your eyes at him, but the boy was unfazed.
“Don’t you think the oldest, most powerful emotion in humanity could change you? Transform you into something more dangerous?” He stops in front of you.
“What could possibly be more strong than anger?”
“It’s, obviously, love. I can feel it in your aura the amount of love you have for Suguru.” Gojo says nonchalant, making you question if you heard right.
“What…”
“He is my best friend as well, Y/n.” The white haired interrupts you. “And I love him enough to want to go after him, but for some reason I can’t. I’m afraid I’ll see something terrible, sense the reality, and try to kill him.” Gojo takes your hand in his. “I don’t think I can kill him, but the thought of trying scares me. I can’t lose him, and neither can you.”
“What do you mean by all that, Satoru?” Your whisper barely reached Gojo.
“If it comes to meeting him, you should do it. Your love for him could be either his salvation or we lose you to him, but I don’t think you would mind that, would you?”
“You think he did it?”
“I don’t want to think.”
A week after that weird conversation, Gojo, Shoko and you had been meeting more than normal in private spaces. For the unknown eye, the three of you are just friends catching up after the loss of the fourth party. But in the reality of your room, Shoko has been using her secret weapon to make Gojo’s plan work — her messages with Geto Suguru about you, cute and overly sweet.
“I don’t like this. I don’t get this!” You mumble on your cat plush, a gift Geto gave you. Your whole face is pink and your lips are numb for the amount of time you have bitten it.
“I don’t get it either. She already loves him too much, no need for this torture.” Shoko laughs at your embarrassed state, when she turns to Gojo, the girl scrunches her eyebrows. “What is it, weirdo?”
You turn to look at Gojo and he is intensely staring at you, which makes you feel uncomfortable, and a little scared.
“You can’t feel it?” He simply ask.
“Feel what?” Taking the pillow from under you, you hug it tight to your chest.
“Feel Geto.” Gojo whisper. “Can’t you sense where he is?”
“How on earth would she be able to do that, Satoru?” Shoko mumbles before grabbing her cigarette and moving towards the window. Unfortunately Ieiri is in Gojo’s presence, and the boy follows her quickly to complain about the smell.
You turn your face down to meet the fluffy cat under you, it’s quite ugly but lovely behind its weird black shaggy tissue. Geto had given it to you after one of your first missions together, he took you to a fair and got you the little fella you kindly named ‘Catoru’.
In your heart you could sense the connection to the ugly thing, linking a string that connected your core to its own, and if you turned down the sound of Shoko and Gojo’s bickering, you could feel a third presence in it. You wondered silently if Satoru was right and your so called love for Geto could create this bridge between the two of you, enough that you could sense him anywhere he was. Could Suguru feel you too?
You tried to focus on that silver string that laced both your heart and the plush, closing your eyes you scanned the deepest part of your soul, of your technique, that you had never been knowledgeable about. It was only in what seemed hours later, you opened your eyes with goosebumps all over you.
You turned back, seeing Gojo and Shoko still arguing — it had only been a few seconds. Maybe you were stronger when it came to fondness, love.
You took some days practicing this new technique and also to make sure Geto was still in the same place, not moving around like the criminal everyone thought of him. If he was still that meant he was innocent, right? It had to be.
Gojo barged into your room on the fourth day, his breath unhinged. You jump out of the bed in a second.
“They already send someone!” You stared at your friend with confusion all over your face. “This Grade One from Russia, they said he will become a Special Grade if he kills Geto. He is strong, I could feel him all across the campus.”
Gojo didn’t stop you when you moved to your bathroom and returned with your uniform. You turned to him, who was now sitting on your bed and hugged his shoulders.
“If this is the last time, you need to know you are my best friend as well. And we may fight a lot, but I would burn this world for you.” You let Gojo go and move towards your door, he stays petrified at the ideia of losing you and Geto. “Tell Shoko I love her as well.”
You leave so quickly, lifting dust from the floor and creating a warm breeze that kisses Satoru’s cheeks and tears.
It takes your half an hour to reach the other string — the location Suguru is. And you find him almost instantly, in the garden of the temple he has settled, he uses traditional clothes and his hair is half up and down. You are taken back by his new look, but mostly by the fact he is fighting the russian sorcerer, and he does seems to be nearly losing.
One of Suguru’s curses launches at the unknown male, and that’s the moment your friend notices you. By the look of his face, he was normal, but his hands instantly trembled in your presence. You start to walk towards him, but the foreigner appears again, his sword nearly slashing Geto’s arm off.
You can feel fear creeping your veins, and it’s not good — Fear makes you weak, but how to avoid it when the man you hold so dearly is fighting a life and death battle?
“I wouldn’t oppose to a little help, sweetheart.” Geto’s voice snapped not only you, but the russian, he punches Suguru, who falls, and turns to you.
“They warned me about you.” He says with a thick accent, pointing his sword in your direction. “They gave me the green light to kill you if you come here. So be patient, love. I’m right at you, gotta end this one first.”
You are disgusted by him, but the way he says “Love” reminds you of your mission, and so you look at Geto, who is already staring at you. He simply smiles, and that turns into fuel for your next movements.
It’s like sliding through water, in a quick second you are behind the foreigner. He turns to you startled, and Geto uses the opportunity to move inside the temple. Before the man can do anything, you punch him in his face, and during his dazed state you move your hands, making your signal.
“Domain expension, Unconditional Disaster.”
It’s not long before you come inside the temple, blood drips from your head to your toes, but you are unharmed. Geto knows this, but he can’t help himself and lunges at you, holding your wet face and searching for any bruises, as if him himself isn’t scattered with some.
“My savior.” Geto laughs quietly, and you can’t help but mimic him. He takes you by your shoulder, tainting his robes, he moves with you to somewhere you don’t care to know. You are in his arms and that’s the place you were meant to be. You wonder if Gojo was right, would you trade anything for Suguru?
Inside an ancient decorated room, Geto grabs a pair of clothes you could only guess belongs to him, he takes your hand and you follow him into the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything when he turns the water to cold, as you have always enjoyed.
During the shower, you can’t help but wonder what is going to happen now. Would another sorcerer be sent to kill you and Geto? Would it be Gojo? He wouldn’t do it, you knew that. A part of you was growing accepting your place besides Suguru, maybe Satoru and Shoko, even Nanami, could come as well, you all would be happy.
You left the bathroom already dressed with Geto’s black sweater and pants, while drying your hair you notice Suguru is not there, and also the eerie feeling the whole building has, with that you hold the towel with a bit of strength, before returning it back to the bathroom. You move towards the door, needing to find Suguru like your life depended on this, but before you reach the door pain shoots through your feet.
“Argh! What the hell…?!”
You turn to look down, and what you would expect to be a knife, turns into a mini lego castle, now dismembered. You scrunch your eyebrows, turning your attention from the toy to the room, you start to notice how Suguru’s room is splattered with a couple of children’s plaything. On the wall next to you there is a mini wooden kitchen, with an equally small dinning table. To your other side, near the bed, a fortress made with blankets, massive pillows and fairy lights, there is also an immense amount of animal plushies. Was Suguru trying to heal his inner child or something?
“Getou-sama!” A high pitched voice comes from behind the door, you jump frightened and for the second time, you land on the lego, now breaking it, a few swear words scape your mouth. “What was that? It’s that his girlfriend, Mimiko?” You don’t hear an answer to that. “Hey lady, can we go inside, pretty pretty prettyyyyyy please?”
“Nanako! Getou-sama told us to let her alone.” The second voice, much more calmer interrupts the first girl.
You bite your lips trying to contain a laugh, especially when you notice the doorknob being shaken. If you could guess, the little girl is trying to open but her height doesn’t help. You sigh, grabbing the broken toy near your feet, dropping in a box near the door and with a slow movement, you open it.
“Oh, you are prettier than Getou-sama described.” The blond girl says as soon as she sees you.
She doesn’t wait for your reaction, quickly grabbing the other’s hand and moving both of them inside the room. You turn to her, but keep still at the door, waiting for maybe Suguru to come in and address what is this.
“Come on, please. I want to have tea with you.” You can guess by her voice and direct personality that she is Nanako. She lefts her friend by the small kitchen and comes to you, closing the door behind and grabbing your hands, she moves both of you towards the dinning table, where she makes you sit. You don’t tell her you are uncomfortable sitting on the extremely small chair, but you can bet she wouldn’t care.
While you are fidgeting in your seat, both Mimiko and Nanako are playing pretend with the fake food in the kitchen. You take the opportunity to stare silently at them. Nanako is, obviously stated before by herself, the extroverted one. The girl keeps glancing at you from time to time, giving you either cute smiles or funny faces, to which you start to return back and she laughs sweetly. Mimiko, you could tell since the beginning, is more shy. The dark haired keeps her head down, she steals some glances at you, but when she notices you are looking, she goes back to her play with crimson cheeks.
“What pie do you want?” Mimiko asks with a slight tremble in her voice. The child comes to you with a plate decorated with wooden pies, you pretend to be inspecting each-one.
“What is your favorite?” Your question takes her by surprise. The plate starts to shake a bit but in her lips a small smile is forming.
“The blueberry one.” Mimiko whispers, pointing with her small finger the one of her choice.
“Then I want that one.”
The girl goes back to the kitchen, putting your ‘desert’ on a pink plate. Nanako turns to you with an also pink teacup.
“Then can you have my favorite tea?” Her pretty brown eyes stare at you like a sad puppy, you know she is trying to make you fall for her, and you do within a second, nodding your head.
When your tea and pie is in front of you, the girls fix their own plates and take a seat on the chairs by either side of you, Nanako specially moving hers closer to you.
“Gerou-sama talks about you a lot.” Nanako says while pretending to eat her raspberry pie, she ‘cleans’ the side of her mouth before looking at you. “Mimiko and I have been begging to meet you. He told us you needed to rest, but I think a tea party is the best way to rest.”
“I agree with you, honey.” The girl smiles at you. “And where is Geto?”
“We waited ‘till he was in the shower.” Mimiko answers you, less shy now. You can’t help but laugh with how sneaky both of them are.
“What does Geto talks about me?” You grab your teacup, raising your little finger like Nanako told you to, and pretend to sip on it.
“He talks about how strong you are, stronger than anyone he had ever met.” Is Nanako who answers you, and Mimiko nods. “Getou-sama also says you are his best friend in the whole world… Well, now he says we are his best friends as well. That’s why we wanted to meet you, the four of us can be good friends, right?”
“Yeah, we are going to be the bestest of friends.” Nanako smiles at that.
“He…” Mimiko starts but pause when you turn to her, you smile encouraging. “He also says he likes you a lot.” The little girl whisper, with her small hands on her mouth. “Do you also like Getou-sama?”
Before you can answer, there is a knock on the door and soon it’s opened by none other than Suguru. Long gone is his traditional clothing, now he wears something identical to you, a large pastel pink sweater with sweatpants. His hair is in his famous bun with his charming bang decorating his pretty face. Suguru’s eyes find you instantly, before catching two little girls who are running out of their seats to try to hide behind you, giggling loud.
“Hm.” Geto simple hums, before closing the door and moving toward you, and you bite your lips to avoid laughing. “You know, Y/n, I was going to introduce you to two little sisters I met a while ago, but I couldn’t find them. You haven’t seen them around, have you?”
“Oh, I haven’t, I’m just here by myself having an one person tea party.” You hear two small laughs after your answer.
“Then why is there two extra plates?” Geto sits in the chair in front of you, in his lips is a large smile you haven’t seen in a long time. You are wonderstruck for a moment, before blinking your eyes and staring at the girl’s plates.
“I was very hungry.” At that, Mimiko and Nanako can’t help but laugh louder, coming out of their hidden spot and tackling Suguru with hugs. He closes his eyes and hold the girls in both his arms. Staring at them, you feel your chest warming with a good feeling, he was still your charming Geto.
For some time, the four of you spend the tea play pretending to delight in the fake food, laughing at Suguru’s imitation of a monarch and addressing both Nanako and Mimiko as princess.
“If Getou-sama is the King, then that means Y/n-sama is his Queen?” Mimiko asks after some time, taking you by surprise.
“Hm, I don’t know. Why would that be?” Suguru turns to the little girl who shrugs her shoulders.
“Well, of course, Mimi!” Nanako answers her sister. “Can’t you see?”
“See what, Nanako?” You catch yourself asking.
“You guys are best friends who love each-other, it’s clear as crystal.” The girl get up from her chair and sits on your lap. You pat her little head and stares at her, avoiding Suguru’s eyes, but you can sense he is focusing on you.
“I think it’s time to go to sleep, girls.” Suguru gets up slowly, when you look at him he is picking Mimiko in his arms. “Don’t even try to give me your puppy eyes, Nanako. I’m avoiding them.”
“But…” Pouting, the girl shifts in your lap, hugging your body and staring at you. Damn, she does have puppy eyes that make you want to give her anything. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetie. I’ll be here in the morning.” You shouldn’t have said that, what if Suguru is only opening his house for you for today. You look at him worried, but sighs when see his beautiful contempt smile. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”
Nanako smiles triumphantly, before getting off your lap with a quick kiss to your cheeks, you get up as well and move towards Geto, before you can do anything, Mimiko also kisses your cheek, hers again burning pink.
“Thank you for coming back to Getou-sama.” The girl quietly says, and you pat her head while she hides her shy face in Suguru’s chest. Nanako grabs the man hands and the three of them leave the room, with the girls waving you goodbye.
You turn to the toys around the room and start to clean the dinning table and fix the little mess, trying to occupy your mind from the persistent question: would Geto come back? You hoped so, you wanted to question him on the rumors, but could you possibly do it? You moved towards the bed and sat on it, looking at your hands and remembering the amount of blood you had in it just a couple hours ago — did the same happened to Suguru? Would you still be by his side if it was true?
The door opens a moment later and Geto moves your way so quick, like both of you are magnets. He sits by your side and takes one of your hand in his, his breathing is calm but a part of you can sense the turmoil of his heart.
“How did you knew where I was?” It’s the first thing he says you, his eyes are focused on your tangled hands. “That I needed you? The moment I started to lose that fight, can you believe I prayed for you? And you came.”
“I’ll always come to you, Suguru.” You whisper back, catching his face with your other hand and making he look at you, there is a yellow bruise on his cheek that has your heart breaking. “I knew where you were for some time. Gojo helped me with this… Honestly, I don’t know what it is, there is a connection between you and me, and I followed it to you.”
Geto uses his free hand to caress the one you have on his face, he closes his eyes as if he was finally in peace.
“You want to know the truth, right?” You nod, he doesn’t open his eyes but you know he can sense you do. “I did it.” It’s a quiet confession that has your core shaking. “I went to that village, killed the curse and had to swallow it, the same thing over and over. The monkeys… The non-sorceress took me with them to an abandoned house, leading me to a makeshift cell where there were two sisters, little girls, so beaten their eyes were closed and bruised, their whole body was covered in bruises.” You gasp when you realize Suguru is talking about Mimiko and Nanako. “They have cursed energy, but they didn’t do it, I killed what was tormenting that village and still they were blaming the girls. How could they be so cruel and terrible to defenseless creatures?”
Geto catch his breath before letting go of your hand on his cheeks, he sighs when you remove your hand and his eyes open, moving to the ceiling. You know he wants to cry, that he is frustrate and sad.
“They told me, demanded me, to kill the girls. I couldn’t do it, Y/n, it’s not in my nature, y’know that.” You nod, squeezing his hand. You wouldn’t have killed the girls if you were in his place, but would you have killed the humans? “So, I took the non-sorceress outside and told them everything was fine, the girls were innocent. I begged to take them with me, the assholes wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. And guess what? They denied me of it, although the girls are orphans, they wanted them for themselves. I was going to open that prison with my bare hands and take Mimiko and Nanako whether they wanted or not. But when I turned back to the house, a man said he would kill the girls himself, and the others agreed.”
You closed your eyes, already knowing how the story ended. Catching your breath, you move your head towards Geto’s chest, and he hugs you instantly.
“What…” You voice is trembling. “What about your parents?”
“I explained to them what happened, but they are non-sorceress, they didn’t understood. Humans are selfish and only trust themselves, they believed the villagers, even when they saw the girls covered in bruised, limpering. I sometimes regret it, but I was so angry, I snapped.”
Suguru’s arms hold you tighter, you could sense the fear he was having right now. After all, he had dropped all his cards at the table, the truth of his murderer nature in front of you, bleeding honesty and terror. You raised your face from his chest and stared at him, the tears shinning his purple eyes fixated on you, only you.
“You can go, if you want.” He says after some time, pain evident in his voice. “Go back to the school, tell them what happened. You can even give them my head if you want.” It hurts your heart that he thinks that of you. But should you do it? Leave Geto, go back to the High Ups and a world of fighting battles against curses, to be killed and replaced by a younger version who will follow your steps, dying as well.
“I want to stay.” You say minutes later. “I want to stay with you, with Nanako and Mimiko. If you would have me.”
Geto’s hands move to your face, staring at your eyes in search for uncertain, for maybe a lie, you can’t tell. You stare at him back with love, after all Gojo was right, you love Suguru more than anything, and have always loved him. From the first day you met each-other, especially right now, where the reality of this cruel life shifted everything you knew. There was no questioning if this decision you made was right, you couldn’t go back to the school after this, your place was by Geto’s side, had always been.
Suguru caress your cheeks, a beaming smile forming on his perfect lips, he touches your forehead with his and the two of you close your eyes. In that moment, you feel his lips on yours, and you don’t take a second to answer his movements, letting his tongue slips in your mouth and his hands fall into your tights, bringing you to his lap. Geto Suguru kisses like a starving man, starving for your love and affection you grant to him so easily, he whimpers under you.
You let his kisses fall to your neck and chest, goosebumps sure to follow, you let Geto be devoted to you like the a deity he worships. He holds you so close, afraid you might disappear somehow, slipping through his fingers. But you don’t, you bring Suguru to your embrace with the same strength he shows you.
That night you know your life changed forever, and maybe the old men with unknown faces and strong powers might send a thousand soldiers to try and kill you, but with Suguru by your side no one could touch you. After all, the ancient and strongest feeling on earth, Love, was the fuel for your powers. And love was with you, in the bed and tangling sheets, love was also in the room next door, sleeping with teddy bears. It was at the other side of Tokyo, white hair and cigarettes, in the future exchanging secrets letters and secret hangouts, even playdates with two more little loves.
You were surrounded by it, emerged in the pure essence. No High Up could come near you or your family, you would make sure of that.
⠀© packsvlog, 2024, 01 june.
#❛ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐉𝐊 ⠀⠀ﾉ⠀ ♡#geto suguru x y/n#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru#geto suguru fluff#geto x reader#suguru x reader#getou suguru x reader#suguru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu fluff#jjk suguru#jjk geto#geto fluff#whistlepack
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Wolf in sheep's clothing
Joost Klein x fem!reader
Warnings: (Joost is not famous in this!) stalking, bad behaviour, maybe paranoia? mentions of killing and mentions of dead people... NOT EDITED!
English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!
Wc. over 1500
---
You always thought that you met Joost by accident. But was it really? With him you never know, and now you were pretty sure that it wasn't by accident. He is a man with charm, that's a very dangerous thing.
His blue eyes held more darkness than you had ever seen in anyone else. But there still was something in them, you just hoped it wasn't too late for him.
And even now that you aren't together, you still hoped there was some way to save him.
"By safe on your way home." Said your mother through the phone you had between your ear and shoulder.
"Yeah mom, I will. Don't worry, okay? I love you, bye." You ended the call and made your way home on the busy streets of Amsterdam. It was getting colder this time of year and you feared it would start snowing in a few weeks.
It was a short trip home from the grocery store. Just around the corner, by the book store, where you always walk by. But you tried to walk here only during the day, not night. You saw in the news many times before how some doubtful people robbed other people near your apartment. This wasn't the best street to live on, but it was still your home after all.
You hated that you had to lie to your mother, but it was for the best. She knew about your and Joost break up and she worried about you. And she would definitely get crazy if you told her the truth about your real parting.
The place you loved no matter what. Yes, it has some advantages and disadvantages, but what hasn't. And after you and Joost broke up, you tried to avoid this this shortcut as much as possible. You always thought that someone was watching you going through here, and now that you and Joost weren't together, you felt this feeling growth.
You speed up a little and adjust your jacket around you with bag full of food in one hand and the other in your pocket. "It's alright Y/n, no-one is here, there's nothing to be scared of." You kept telling yourself, you were ready for everything.
But it wasn't this unfamiliar gaze that scared you. No, you knew it very well who exactly it was. He is the one you should avoid, to hide from and to fear. Maybe you didn't know where he was, but you knew he was close.
"Y/n"
It was so quiet, you almost didn't hear it. You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around. It was him, in all his glory. You didn't say anything. You couldn't, it was like he took all the oxygen and you just couldn't breathe.
"Y/n" he repeated and took a step towards you. But you couldn't move, it was like you were glued to the floor. Looking closer at him, you saw behind his glasses how his right eye was a bit swollen and purple around the corner. He didn't look good, in fact he scared you.
He stopped a few centimeters before you, practically breathing right in your face and you were sure, you were breathing just as hard.
"Wha..." you couldn't bring yourself to even speak properly, but you had to for your sake. "What are you doing here?" It was a simple question, but you didn't expect him to answer truthfully.
"I'm here to see you."
"No," Stepping back, you took your other hand out of your pocket, keeping distance between you and him. "You can't be here."
"Why not." This dull look in his ocean eyes wasn't the one you fell in love with, he wasn't your Joost. The one that cared for everyone so much all the time, even though he didn't have to. This wasn't your Joost that told you how much he loves you right when you woke up in the morning and before you fell asleep in his hold.
This wasn't him. This was someone else.
"You know why." Came out as a whisper. "We are done." You turned back around and continued your way home, you didn't stop even when you heard his voice calling after you.
"You can't keep doing this Y/n!"
He wasn't coming after you and you were glad, you just hoped you won't have to see him again.
As soon as you saw your apartment, you sighed and walked inside the building. He was gone.
Opening the door, you were greeted by loud meowing. It was like your cat brought you out of the trance. He was hungry and rubbed his head against your leg.
Kefir. He was a present from Joost and the name was an idea from him too. He knew how much you liked milk, so you immediately agreed. Your little nonstop meowing little Kefir.
You put the full bag on the counter after you made sure you locked the door. That night you couldn't sleep, how could you, and all because you saw something you shouldn't. It didn't had to end this way, but he had made his choice.
How can you hurt someone, let alone kill. This was twisted. Beyond disguising. And what was worse, you didn't told that to anyone, too scared to say something to someone. But you made your choice to break up with him. It didn't make you feel any less guilty, but you had to do something, anything at this point.
And you knew that if you looked out of the window, behind curtains, you would see him here standing with a cigarette in his mouth. How he was watching you every night for the past month since you broke up.
He scared you. Joost scared you.
---
You woke up later than usual, but there was no wonder. When you went to sleep, the sun was already up. When you looked out of the window, he was no longer here.
"Are you hungry?" You asked the cat and he just meowed as you made your way to the kitchen. You put kefir granules and got ready for the day.
Then you made your way to work and after the whole day, you had to say, you had enough. All those rude people and their bizarre ideas how you could do your job better.
When you went home you couldn't help but notice certain things. He wasn't here. Normally he was right there waiting in some dark corner watching over you or going behind you in crowded streets.
You didn't think much of it, thinking he finally stopped following you around like a lost puppy. You took a deep breath and stepped inside the building and made your way to the fourth floor. As you opened the door, you knew he was there, in your home that used to be your both.
You immediately noticed, but it wasn't for your cat, because he came to greet you as soon as you opened.
You knew he was here because he didn't follow you home. It was a strange thing for him to do, but you got used to it.
"How did you get in?"
You heard his chuckle and saw him step to the light of your living room.
"I don't want you here Joost. I made that clear." You said to him feeling confident, but that didn't mean you feared him any less.
"I didn't mean to scare you that night, you know?" He admitted and made his way slowly to you.
"Do you..." You began "Do you want me dead?"
He didn't answer that, you didn't expect him to. He looked at you and after so long, you finally saw something in his eyes other than emptiness. It was like he recognised you.
"Dead?" Joost asked and tilted his head to the side. "Y/n, I don't want you dead."
"Then why do you keep doing this? Why are you scaring me? Why did you kill that guy?"
"I love you, can't you see that?"
He looked desperate and ashamed of himself. Like he didn't recognise himself too. Looking down he pulled you closer by your waist and put his head on top of yours. He squeeze your waist and then whispered.
"You don't get it, I had to do it."
"Why?"
"Because of you. For you."
Now it was your turn to be quiet. Too scared to say something. You didn't return the hug he was holding you in and he noticed. You closed your eyes as you felt them fill with tears of psychical pain and regret for someone's life they couldn't live.
"No, it was always going to end this way."
This only made him hold you closer and harder. You took a deep breath and whispered.
"It doesn't have to end this way."
---
Don't copy or translate my work. Also the picture is not mine, credit goes to owner.
A/n: idk how I should feel about this... it's not edited so... :))
#joost klein x fem!reader#joost klein x you#x reader#k0juki's stuff 🩷#x female!reader#joost klein#joost klein x reader#justice for joost#joostice#dark#dark!joost#dark!joost klein#dark!joost klein x reader#fanfic#blurb#imagine#europa#europe#eurovision#dark romance
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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the first night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
flee from sexual immorality. every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. - 1 corinthians 6:18
warnings: nothing too smutty yet. suggestive, let's call it that. mentions of abuse and violence.
a/n: i'm realising its a little slow burn but that's better for the tension building. there's fingering in the next part, just bear with me. also, might be corny at times. i dunno. sorry.
this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here
soobin's room was a shithole. it had a correctional feel, with sparse furniture and an austere, almost monastic approach to decorations –not one poster, not one framed picture, not one item that didn't have a practical utility– as if he hadn't had an interest in his life.
it freaked beomgyu out how clean it was, and how earnest; everything that was worth seeing could be spotted with a single glance. simple. soobin had shamelessly exposed the stark core of his existence, that is, a plain wall and the depressive charm of a victorian orphanage.
the mattress was rigid, too. unbending. it defeated the whole purpose, beomgyu thought. it irritated him, that someone would make a mattress so hard it was almost a prank item, and that someone else would be stupid enough to buy it. he was sure soobin’s stepfather thought it built character, or some bullshit of the sort.
beomgyu lay there, sprawled out like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling. he couldn’t sleep. not a wink. his stomach was killing him, or maybe it was his liver, or his kidneys – hell, he couldn’t tell anymore. everything just ached, like his whole body was one big bruise.
his dad hadn't just kicked him out. that would have been too kind. no, his dad had kicked him out after beating the shit out of him. real old-school, no-holds-barred kind of beating.
half of his internal organs might have been bleeding out in that moment, but whatever. beomgyu, stubborn as he was, refused to go to the hospital. he hated the clinics, the cold tools, the patronising doctors. he could already picture them, their eyes widening as they examined him, enumerating the parts of his body that were just about to give up. he was dying, he really didn't wanna know.
they would ask who had done that to him, and if he was sure he didn’t want to press charges. as if. as if he could ever bring himself to do that.
he couldn’t sue his father, he never would. even if his body was falling apart and in ruins. it was their thing. the beatings, the fights. the twisted ritual that kept them tied together. to snitch on his dad would be to betray him, to shatter the only fragile bond they had left.
so there he was, sleepless in soobin’s room, rolling around in the concrete mattress helplessly, restlessly, until he got so bored he couldn’t stand it anymore.
the room was dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that presses down on you, heavy and suffocating. he needed to get up, to do something, anything to distract himself from the pain and the mess in his head.
he decided to go to the kitchen. maybe a glass of water would help, or at least give him something to do. as he got up from the bed, he didn’t worry too much about waking soobin. he knew he very rarely slept. he needed to be alert every second, like closing his eyes would make him too vulnerable.
that was one of the things that fascinated beomgyu about him—how soobin carried that crippling anger with him everywhere, but he never complained, never erupted. if beomgyu’s dad hit him, beomgyu would hit back, an eye for an eye. but when soobin’s stepdad hit soobin, he would just stand there, stiff and quiet like an ancient tree, never saying a word in some militaristic vow of silence.
the hallway was eerily silent as beomgyu made his way downstairs, each step echoing in the stillness of the night. he moved cautiously, aware of how the house breathed around him, the creaks and groans of the old wood floors amplifying in the quiet. he didn’t mind the silence though; it gave him space to think, to let his mind wander even as his body throbbed with pain.
he still tried to make as little noise as possible. the last thing he needed was for soobin’s stepdad to wake up and find him rummaging through the kitchen. that man already had a hair-trigger temper, and beomgyu didn’t need another beating tonight. he moved like a shadow, each step calculated, avoiding the spots he knew would creak the loudest.
reaching the kitchen, a thought crossed his mind. if he was lucky, he might just figure out where soobin’s stepdad kept the expensive whiskey. the good stuff, the kind that could numb the pain, at least for a while. he knew he had a hidden stash no one could access, soobin had told him. it was a small, fleeting hope, but it was something to do. a quest to keep him entertained.
slowly, he eased open each cupboard in the kitchen, the hinges protesting with a drawn-out creak. he peered inside, squinting to make out the shapes in the dark.
but a fleeting glimmer caught his eye, halting his breath for a moment. someone, two eyes in the dark. he gasped, startled. he only began to calm down when eyes started to make out the figure. he cursed at himself for being too jumpy. it was just one of those ceramic figures of virgin and child.
he looked around the room. his eyes had become used to the dark enough for him to guess the shilhouettes. anywhere he looked there was a porcelain veiled lady carrying her holy baby, an agonising jesus on the cross, some martyr saint immortalised in art with the object that gave them death.
everywhere blood, everywhere tears, everywhere fire, swords and stained white cloths. he couldn’t see them properly in the gloom, but the white of the eyes fixated on him so eerily it felt assaultive.
"fucking hell," beomgyu breathed out. that room was like a souvenir store at the vatican. soobin’s stepdad had amassed religious imagery with borderline obsession.
he must want redemption really bad, beomgyu thought. he must have done something unforgivable and now he's trying to buy his way into heaven with catholic merchandising.
the watchful gazes and the silent judgement were starting to weigh down on him, and he was about to give up, thinking maybe he’d better just head back to bed. but in a sudden, careless movement, he turned around and bumped into something soft and warm. a body of flesh. the stepsister.
in a split second, he realized the situation and acted purely on instinct. his hand shot out and clamped over your mouth, muffling any potential scream that might shatter the silence. "don't yell, please don't yell... i'm soobin’s friend." his voice was a harsh whisper, almost a plea. slowly, cautiously, he reached out and flicked on the light switch, still keeping his hand firmly over your mouth. "don't be scared." he murmured, more to himself than to you.
as the light finally flickered to life, it illuminated the room with a harsh, revealing glow. he saw you for the first time.
fuck. his breath caught in his throat. slowly, he released his grasp. he almost felt sorry to have touched you. like he could've stained you, somehow. like he was a foul moth and you were the sunlight.
it all made sense now. why your father guarded you so closely, as if he was keeping something holy. this was the secret they had shielded him from, the thing they didn't want to share—soobin and the stepdad. the face of a doll, with moonlit eyes and sugared strawberry lips, sweet enough to taste. an angel of a girl.
"you're not a kid," he breathed out, the words almost a whisper of disbelief.
you remained silent, standing there, paralysed like a scared rabbit ready to bolt. your instinct to flee would get triggered at the minimum movement from him. he could see that, but he couldn't fight the force –call it divine, call it gravitational– that kept pulling him towards you.
he reached for your hand, and you tried to get away. but he was quicker, seizing your wrist firmly. it didn't hurt, though. he was tender with his grasp. you weren’t used to that. with the slightest pull you could've freed yourself, but you chose not to.
"please, stay with me for a bit," he said, his voice almost as gentle as his touch. "talk to me."
you should’ve flinched. you should’ve yanked your hand away and stormed up to your room, locking the door behind you. but you didn’t. you allowed his grasp on your wrist to shift, to evolve at beomgyu’s will until the handcuffed enclosement turned into his hand sweetly holding yours.
"why?" was the only thing you could muster.
"because i can't sleep," he said, the words falling from his lips. ‘and because i want to look at you forever, christ.’ he thought before calmly adding, "my brain... it thinks too much at night. doesn't come up with the most pleasant thoughts, either. everything's too silent."
"that means you feel guilty." you said.
"yeah," he nodded. he was feverish. thirsty. "exactly."
"i feel like that too," you said. “sometimes.”
beomgyu thought he was going insane. that you weren't even real. some imaginary angel his mind had made up to comfort him just a little. it was the house, he thought, it was like an asylum. the light was too bright, too white. everywhere he looked, jesus christ or the virgin mary would return his gaze. the whole place was designed to keep him away from you, he thought, paranoid. but you didn't fit there. you felt warm and honeyed and lovely. you just didn't belong.
your hand was in his, as secure and mellow as your connected gazes, and he would rather die than let go of it. but he took his other hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with the back of it. it was scorching hot, rosy pink and glazed like an apple.
“you’re very pretty.” he mumbled, almost a purr.
“you can’t say that.”
“beautiful eyes, too.” he said. “sad.”
"my dad doesn't hesitate to hurt people." you said, trying to warn him away. you felt too cozy under his touch to push him yourself.
"i don't care what happens to me." beomgyu said, letting his hand travel to your neck, your hair, you cheek again. he would explore as far as you allowed him to. "but i wouldn't want him to hurt you."
"then leave." you said. but you didn't care what happened to you, either. he could see it in the worry of your eyes. it wasn't a fear for yourself, it was an all-embracing need to protect.
beomgyu shook his head slightly. "i’ll take the blame."
"he will say i brought it upon myself. that i looked for it." you said. "he’ll call me the whore of babylon and make me suffer for it."
you didn't seem as frightened as you seemed certain. not a lost bunny, not the distressed victim. you were aware of your actions and their consequences, intellectually and matter-of-factly. and for the first time in his life, beomgyu held something beautiful and felt not the need to destroy, but to save.
"your daddy can try." he said. "i have a dad of my own, and i know how they are. it’s just hubris. don't be so scared of a man who collects figurines of jesus christ like they're funko pops. he's the one who's terrified, don't you see?"
you smiled slightly, and he liked it so much. how the formerly strained and full of fear muscles of your face relaxed into that adorable grin. how he had done that to you. he was so satisfied, so proud of himself for getting an angel to smile. he wanted to do that forever.
he tried to stop himself from staring at you, fearing you'd get intimidated under his hungry gaze. that you'd fear him. but he couldn't quit. you were his new thirst, his desire unlimited, a beautiful wet dream stranding right in front of him.
that stupid white nightdress was giving him such a hard time, too. the two necklaces you wore, so pretty and delicate. the first one, fastened and secured close to your neck was the pearls. he didn't know if they were real or not, he was just some brute before a siren. second was the rosary beads in rose mother-of-pearl, loosely draping over your chest to fall under the fabric of the nightwear, wickedly hidden from beomgyu’s sight.
he assumed they were the kind jewel you never took off. he liked the idea. they seemed so easy to pull on, to hang on to. so ornamental over a naked body. so fucking pretty.
his hand travelled up to the rosary beads, almost with a brain of its own. you swiftly moved your own hand over his to stop him, but you ended up softening your grip and letting him do as he pleased.
“do you sleep with these on?” he asked, softly. "it’s dangerous, you know? you could choke."
“i take them off.” you said. “i just wasn’t going to bed yet. i can't sleep lately. like you.”
of course. you were just like him. morphed by your hostile environment into a broken half-human. an incomplete being, hollow. but still so beautiful and gentle. unlike him. he had felt his void with hatred, while you had maintained yours clean and unpolluted. he wanted to fill it with kisses, with caresses, with words of praise.
he began to lean in.
your breath hitched. he was so handsome, painfully so. plump lips, elegant cheeckbones. you liked him. you wanted to keep looking at him, to have your hand reach for his face and feel his skin, too. you wanted to never stop him from leaning in and to let him kiss you.
but the realization of it all sent a wave of panic through you, because you knew you couldn’t—shouldn’t—like him. you got away. "i really should leave," you said, but it came out more like a whisper, more like a plea.
still holding the beads, he took his hand to your cheeks again. you leaned in to his touch a little, but you didn't give in completely. you had led a life of strict restrain and soldierlike discipline. you had the willpower of a hundred trained armies.
yet that didn't make it hurt less to let him go. you grabbed his hand and put it down with a slight shaking of your head.
“please,” he begged one last time.
you began to walk back while facing him, as if to make sure he wouldn’t follow after you. beomgyu's heart ached with each step you took away from him, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as he watched you disappear into the shadows.
but a stupid thought, impulsive and idiotic came to you. in daddy’s house —the house of god— it was the type of idea that could get you killed. you swiftly approached him, almost unnoticeably, like a ghost. when you found yourself before him, you tiptoed slightly. you pecked his cheek. then you disappeared.
"good night," beomgyu whispered into the dark. he felt a pang of emptiness, like that feeling after a good dream slips away in the morning.
before his mom left his father, she had taken him to the ballet a few times. he remembered a specific one, in that moment. la sylphide. mom had loved that one. he felt like the lead, a man whose name he couldn't remember, kissed in the night by some magical being but waking up to nothing but her memory.
he was spaced out as he headed back to soobin's room, lost in his own thoughts. pushing the door open, he found soobin sitting up on the bed with the night lamp casting shadows over his unreadable face.
"why're you still up?" soobin asked him, his tone as flat as the mattress.
"just grabbed some water," beomgyu replied, keeping it simple.
"is everything alright?"
beomgyu gave a nod, not really knowing how to approach the subject. if he should even talk about it, if he would be capable of speaking without giving out too much. he slipped under the covers, giving soobin a subtle signal to switch off the light. and just as the room started to dim, he spoke into the darkness. "i saw your sister."
soobin's strained response came out after an exaggerated stretch of silence. "she's not my sister," he muttered.
beomgyu let the quiet hang for a beat before adding. "she´s beautiful.” he said. it came out as an accusation towards soobin.
soobin said nothing. the rustle of sheets is all that broke the silence as he rolled on his side, facing away from beomgyu. in the stillness, beomgyu drifted off into sleep, like touched by a divine calmness. soobin, however, remained awake.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ none of you have let me know if you think reading about booty sex is gross yet
#we're working up to it please just hold it#i stan our attention spans we got this team#incoming depression sex yay !!#beomgyu#beomgyu angst#txt smut#beomgyu smut#txt hard thoughts#beomgyu hard thoughts#beomgyu x reader#txt x reader#beomgyu fic
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REQUEST: A reader much more powerful than Arlecchino and not doing anything about it.. except in bed.
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Mention of bloodplay at the very end but like. Very minor. Otherwise there's nothing 🤷♀️
☆ — NOTES: I'M NEVER TOUCHING MY DRAFTS WHEN I JUST WOKE UP EVER AGAIN I'M SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this was kinda bad dawg am sorry 😞
☆ — PARTS: Part 1, Part 2 (you are here)
Tall AND powerful??? Ohhhh she's gonna die you KNOW I had to mix it hahaahahha powertrip goes CRAAAAZYYYYYY I have such a thing for it I'm gonna cry
Anyway ok so I would like to first state that extremely powerful chrs that don't actually do a lot w their power is like one of my top fav tropes it's so fucking funny 😭 like dawg you have the power to change the world wdym you're just gonna sit here like it's summer vacation (there's a reason why my Akivilicarnation au exists (even though I gotta work on it one way or another))
This is rather different from the stuff I usually write bc I usually write the reader as. Kinda weak for the sake of putting us all on a powerscale between the chr and our average strength as a human being omg bare with
Okay so. I do feel like she'd be a tad bit frustrated with you, at least at first. Like you could do so much more than what you're showing and yet here you are, not using your strength for important stuff? Lazy bitch, her children are much better than your example 💀 at least, that's her initial take, really
But give her a demonstration, both in a time of need and yk ☺️☺️☺️, and she'll soften up
Anyways it's just the fact that you're both tall AND powerful??? Nevermind her doing anything, she'll find herself dazedly thinking of the ways in which you can quite possibly manhandle her with such brazen 'disrespect'......and also? In the ways you two can actually COMPETE. Or well, 'compete', esp when she finds herself actually WANTING to lose for once. Crazy, how the great Knave would actually prefer to lose compared to the usual want to win against her opponent
You sighed, "I know we talked about it two days ago but do we have to? Really?"
"I would like to test you. Unless you would rather skip such pleasantries?"
"I don't think fighting until one of us surrenders counts as 'pleasantries'. Quite the opposite, actually."
While you've always known Arlecchino to constantly have a stony expression that doesn't usually change, you see the bright crosses of her eyes dim just a fraction, "So I suppose that's a no, then?"
"Well, now," you stepped back with an amused look on your face, getting into the fighting stance you're familiar with, "I didn't say that... Especially not when the reward is something I really want."
And she gains that glow once again as she brandishes her weapon with a fraction of a smile and.. something else much more heated behind those eyes of hers, "Do not get ahead of yourself, my beloved. The results have yet to be concluded."
..She speaks as if she hadn't actually wanted to lose. Laughable, really.
(You know from the way that at the end of it all, she lies underneath you as her eyes scan you with that same heated look in her eyes—lust, a sin in which The Knave hadn't thought of ever committing.. until you came along.)
The whole thing about her being able to reverse your positions? THROW THAT TO THE FUCKING WIND IN THIS SITUATION you can easily EASILY fold her without a care in the world. The fact that she KNOWS you can too gives her a rush she hasn't ever felt without that extra layer of threatened rage
Push her up against the wall, hold her up in the air, pin her down so she can't squirm away..........if you're much more powerful than her, she actually makes a show of 'trying' to escape you. Keyword: 'trying', especially when at the end of the day she resigned herself to losing already
She tells you not to hold anything back, no matter how cautious you are. She says she can handle it, that she isn't strong without reason, that she can endure whatever you give her, no matter what. Usually she kinda ends up forgetting anything she's said though, especially when you're fucking her SOOO hard she starts seeing stars behind her eyes
If your strength applies to endurance too??? Ohhh bye she's not lasting. Like okay she definitely has stamina and endurance but against you? SHE'S QUITE LITERALLY DWARFED....BYE.........
In some way, she actually likes the fact that you don't show your power other than in private with just the two of you—it makes her feel special, to know exactly what you're capable of. Dare I even say she's a tad bit possessive over every side of you? Who can say 😜
Just think that whenever she kinda stands beside you in public w her heels on, she's very very VERY easily reminded of the fact that you tower over her in height, capability AND position.......and really, in comparison to what everyone else may think? Arlecchino wouldn't have it any other way 🫶
....oh side note, just think about how rough you can go, biting each other to the point where you draw blood. Sorry I had to get that final bit out ANYWAY
#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#arlecchino x reader#genshin arlecchino x reader#arlecchino smut#sub arlecchino#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact smut#sub genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin smut#sub genshin#genshin women x reader#genshin women imagines#genshin women smut#sub genshin women
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So, Fox is trying really hard to hide his relationship with Bail and Breha, because he is really paranoid that if someone knows, it's going to spread and then the Chancellor will know as well. It's going well. Like, super well. Nobody outside the Guard knows.
Well, almost nobody outside the Guard.
Quinlan Vos does, indeed, know.
Thorn swears that he didn't tell him, but Fox knows that Thorn didn't have to tell him. Vos just hangs around the Guard base every single time he's on Coruscant, telling horrible jokes to Thorn and bothering everybody else, that he must've just found out through some sort of osmosis.
Whatever. Fox doesn't like it, but Thorn swears that Vos is not going to tell anyone, and Fox trusts Thorn.
Anyway. Quinlan is on a mission with Obi-Wan, and afterwards gets to talking with Obi-Wan and Cody. Cody mentions something about Fox, and Quinlan, without much thinking, goes "oh yeah, I heard about that last time I was at the Guard base."
Cody gives him a raised eyebrow and a look-over, and says "no offense, General Vos, but....I really didn't think you'd be Fox's type."
Cody is right, he really isn't. Quinlan is about to say this, when a thought appears inside his head.
Oh, he thinks, oh I'm about to be hilarious.
So he smiles, and says "oh well, you know, sometimes things you least expect happen". Cody nods slowly. Obi-Wan gives Quinlan a look that tells that Obi-Wan knows Quinlan is up to something. He doesn't say anything, though. Good, good.
So now Fox's brothers think he is dating Quinlan Vos, and absolutely do not believe him when he tries to tell them that he is not. Yeah yeah, Fox, we all know you're embarrassed, it's okay.
It really is not okay.
The next time Quinlan Vos steps inside the Guard base, he is being hunted for sport.
#the most infuriating thing for fox is that it works in keeping his actual relationship secret#but he hates it so much and he hates that it's working#and he hates it when quinlan says that fox should be thankful for it#thorn thinks this is hysterical but doesn't say it bc he loves fox and also bc he wants to live#sw#tcw#Commander Fox#Quinlan Vos#Commander Thorn#bail/breha/fox#quinthorn
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ok hear me out, spencer doesn't like going to the barber that much because germs, so he asks his gf (or gn reader idm!) to cut his hair for him
- boyband reid's biggest fan
oh em gee this is so sweet and silly and domestic. im frothing at the mouth rn. warning: one non-explicit reference to sex (boyband reid makes me feral im sorry)
Spencer's had such a variety of hairstyles and you've adored every one of them. It's grown out so much recently, mostly because he hasn't gotten around to cutting it, but he likes it well enough.
Once he's tired of having long hair and ready to get it cut, he offers you full rein over his hair. You JUMP at the opportunity and yeah. the boyband haircut was very self indulgent. (and you're so real for that.)
He was a little nervous when he first looked in the mirror, thinking it would definitely take some getting used to. But then you're there next to him, kissing his face and telling him he looks soo good, and any doubt he had is gone.
Even after a few days with his new look go by, you've still been allll over him. You were clingy before, sure, but something about his new hair drives you insane (positive) and he's never been happier.
He's not really bothered by his coworkers (and Hotch?? surprisingly??) teasing him about his haircut. He likes it, and you've made it very clear that you like it, (if last night was any indication) so anyone else's opinion doesn't matter that much.
Plus, it gives him another opportunity to gush about you if anyone mentions it. Even if it's a kidding "nice hair" from Morgan, he gets to be all "thanks 😇 my s/o cut it for me 😊" Yeah, he loves it.
masterlist | inbox ♡
taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna @khxna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid fluff#x reader#reid x reader
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sharp dressed man - matty healy
[this isn't beta read in the slightest, i couldn't bring myself to care and i was high writing most of this so i apologise for any mistakes.]
wc: ~4.5k
cw: as always mentions of anxiety and insecurity, smut, matty wanks in the shower and has reader watch]
singularity series chapter 2 | prev
Watching Matty dance around your kitchen with Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top playing in the background, wearing tight pink booty shorts that say ‘Juicy’ across the arse, wasn’t how you thought you’d spend your Sunday morning but here you are. As funny as you thought it would be to give him those shorts last night, wanting to take the piss out of him, you guess you forgot who you were dealing with. Because he is walking around with a kick in his step, like he’s the hottest thing since sliced bread.
This really backfired.
When you handed him those shorts last night, he gave you a sly look as if he was accepting a challenge and you were too tired to decipher what he was plotting in that head of his. Much to Matty’s whining you did not sleep naked, you could have sworn you killed his non existent pets over how pouty he was over it. You do not sleep naked, it is far too uncomfortable for you. The more clothes the better.
He hasn’t tried to kiss you again, or touch you at all really and you hate the fact that that’s all that’s been looping around in your head since you woke up. Flashes going through your mind of the sounds of his panting and moans, how he felt - it makes your stomach tighten and you damn near chew through your cheek trying to make the thoughts go away. Things were far easier when you wanted to kick him in the balls. This feels complicated now.
You honestly thought you’d be having more of a meltdown over this, you were so terrified of human contact for many years that you thought you’d crumble if it happened again. What you weren’t expecting was that you would enjoy it. The shorts are a good distraction though, you’ve been cycling through trying not to laugh and to not look at his arse - which he purposely keeps making sure is in your line of vision.
“...So, I was gonna make you breakfast but there is not really anything here - aside from toast, you want some toast?” He asks, looking at you over his shoulder from where he’s stood for five minutes inspecting your essentially empty pantry. There is usually not much food in the house unless it’s for you mum, or Loki. You usually don’t have the energy to eat and if you do it’s the bare minimum and easiest thing to grab. You used to love cooking. But like with everything else you used to enjoy, you can’t find it in you to care. “I’m not much of a breakfast person - help yourself to whatever is there, thank you though.”
Matty gives you a strange look, probably over the fact that you were actually being polite and not sarcastic, but the minute you notice you’ve been staring at his mouth again you look at the counter where you’re sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “What about you, Loki? You want some breakfast?” Matty calls out, while he collects some bread and peanut butter. Loki stares at Matty from where he’s sitting just outside the kitchen, then grunts and gets up to walk off.
You smile to yourself, watching Loki jump on the couch and ignore him completely, then look at Matty. “You’re in the dog house now, he’s pissed he had to sleep out here and you stayed in my bedroom.” Matty stares at Loki with a frown, looking genuinely upset but then goes towards the toaster to start to make himself something to eat. “I’ll make it up to him, he has to forgive me sooner or later.” He mumbles, which only makes you smile more. He really does sound upset that Loki is giving him the cold shoulder.
He can be pretty moody when he doesn’t get his way. You got the silent treatment for a whole day once because you had to throw out his toy that he’d ripped to pieces because you were worried he’d choke on it. He’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but he sure is your favourite colour. “Just get him some bacon, he’ll be your best friend again.” You assure him, resting your chin in your hand.
Matty just nods, staring at the toaster while he waits for it to pop, and as you watch him with his palm pressed flat against the counter, his hand on his hip and messy curls draped over his shoulders, you can’t help the question that tumbles out of your mouth.
“Why did you get divorced?”
You can’t help how much the fact Matty has been married fascinates you, because you just can’t picture it. And after the past couple of days, instead of fighting thoughts about him, it’s a million and one curious questions about him that swirl in your head. Matty glances at you, his brows lifting at the sudden random question but the toast pops and he pulls it out to start to butter it on a plate. “If I answer that, do I get to ask you something?”
You shrug your shoulders, still just watching him. “I guess.”
He purses his lips with another nod, grabbing his plate and making his way over to sit on the stool next to you. “I got divorced because my ex wife didn’t love me - Why’d you and Jonah break up?” The way he says that with such a casual tone, has your lips parting as you stare at the side of his face while he starts to chomp into a slice of toast with his elbows resting on the counter. You blink at him, confused by how unbothered he looks. “What do you mean she didn’t love you?”
“Uh-uh, that’s cheating. Answer my question first.” He tutts, licking at his lips to get remnants of peanut butter from them as his jaw flexes while he chews. “He broke up with me.” Matty cocks a brow. “Why?”
“No no, you answer my question first.” You throw back, using his own argument against him. Matty smirks to himself as he takes another bite from his toast and you can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s because for once you’re initiating the conversation, or trying to learn something about him. Maybe it’s because you sound interested. Or maybe he just really likes peanut butter, who knows.
“I was a way for my ex wife to piss off her parents. Like her act of rebellion. They were rich upper class snobs, and the last thing they wanted was their perfect, proper, princess of a daughter marrying some queer hairdresser - covered in tattoos and torn up clothes that spent his weekends at rock gigs and bars. She didn’t love me, just the idea of me. I actually don’t know if she cared about me at all to be perfectly honest.” Again, he sounds complacent about the whole thing. He may as well be describing his toast to you with how emotionless he sounds about it but that doesn’t stop your expression falling as you stare at him.
“She sounds like a bitch.” You state, and this makes Matty grin as he starts on his next slice of toast. He looks at you, nodding as he chews. “She kinda was, but it was one of the things that had me caught up on her. Treat em mean - keep em keen. You know how that works. Your turn now, fess up about that Jonah idiot.”
You pull your lips to the side, feeling your chest sink and dart your eyes down. “Not much to say, he just got everything he could from me - guess I stopped being useful. So he left.” Matty pauses his chewing, swallowing and leans his face down to get you to look at him. “He sounds like a dick.” Your own lips pull into a smile as you flick your eyes up to his and nod. “Yeah, he kinda was.”
Matty watches your face with a lopsided lazy smile, and taps his finger against the tip of your nose. “He didn’t deserve you in the first place, darling. He did you a favour, his loss not yours.” You don’t know how to respond to that, the sincerity of his tone made your stomach flip, so you cover it how you usually do.
“Well the fact he was a dick kept me away from actual dick the last two years, so yeah he kinda did me a favour. Gave me time for more important things - like eating the topping off pizza first.” You grin at Matty who rolls his eyes, laughing under his breath but he doesn’t say anything else and just goes back to eating. It feels oddly comfortable to sit with him. Your small conversation isn’t causing the usual crippling feeling inside of you it usually does. He isn’t that bad to talk to you guess, but you’re still caught off guard with the whole ex wife thing. You always think you have him totally figured out but you never do.
Matty stands from the stool, grabbing your hand to urge you to stand up and it’s only then you realise you’ve just been sitting there staring at him again while your mind goes in circles. You still can’t get over how comfortable he looks in those fucking shorts. “Where are we going?” You question with your brows dropping together. Matty gives you a cheerful look, but then keeps leading you towards the bathroom. “We are going to brush our teeth, like responsible adults - you got a spare one I can borrow?” You watch him with a puzzled look while you follow him. “Uh…yeah I do - but I don’t need you to hold my hand to do that.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He muses, ignoring the other part of your sentence and walks you to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you before going to lean against the counter. “So, spare toothbrush?” You side eye him with suspicion, going to the top drawer and grabbing a spare toothbrush still in the packet and handing it to him, to which he grabs your toothbrush from the holder on the sink and hands it to you with a sweet smile.
“What are you playing at, idiot?” You squint at him, but he ignores you again, handing you the toothpaste and gestures for you to use it while he starts opening his own toothbrush. You huff out a sigh through your nose, knowing he won’t tell you so you decide to just brush your teeth and let him be the weirdo he is. He eventually joins you and you both brush your teeth in silence. You stare at the mirror trying not to look at his reflection, where he’s just staring at you in the mirror. He looks far too amused for someone brushing their teeth, and it makes you uneasy.
You finish up, both rinsing your mouths and you give him another strange look when he places the toothbrush in the holder next to yours. So he’s planning on brushing his teeth here again…or? Why would he leave that here? You jolt in shock however when Matty grabs your waist and lifts you up, only to plop you down on the counter top, then walks off to the shower and opens the glass door and starts the shower running.
“What are you doing?”
He faces you and tilts his head, hooking his thumbs into the hem of the pink shorts. “I’m having a shower.” You pull your face back, looking mortified. “I am not showering with you.” Matty purses his lips to hide his smirk, and keeps his thumbs hooked in the shorts as he slips them down to just above his pubic area and then pauses. “I know, that’s why I said I’m having a shower.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then.” You blurt, leaning back when he pulls his hands from the shorts and walks towards you, placing his palms flat on the counter either side of you and dips his face close to yours.
“Hmm…No, I want you to watch.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind!” You snap with your voice breaking from how high pitched it went which makes his eyes light up in amusement. “I said I’m gonna help you figure out things you like, you’ve got me curious what those other things might be, darling. Just relax and give it a chance, you can leave whenever you want. Just try.” He says with his voice slowing as he leans closer. Your insides are clenching and flipping and doing all kinds of contortionist bullshit, and your brain is scrambling to figure out what the hell he expects exactly.
“If you like it, stay. If you don’t, leave. Pretty simple - I won’t force you. Totally up to you.” He continues, keeping his eyes focused on yours while you fight the urge to bite through your own tongue. Why are the only speeds this guy knows 0 or 100? “What does watching you shower have to do with things I like?” You stutter out like a fucking idiot. You’re confident and quick witted in situations where you can cover your nagging self doubt with jokes, but faced with any kind of intimacy and you’re a blubbering moron. Where as that seems to be the area where Matty excels and it’s terrible for your cortisol levels.
“Ouch, here I was thinking you might actually like seeing me naked.” He teases as he places his hands on your hips and tugs you forward until you’re flush against him with your thighs either side of his hips, and you swear to god you hope you pass out so you don’t have to deal with this. You thought maybe because he hadn’t tried anything since you woke up, maybe last night was a once off or it’d be forgotten…you should’ve known better. Is this payback for the shorts?
“Just humour me.” He hushes, nudging his nose against yours. “Give it a chance.”
You hold your breath trying to think of anything to say, but all that’s spinning in your head is how much of an idiot you are because you’re actually considering this. “Relax - you’re safe.” He coos, gripping your hips tighter which makes you let out your breath in a sharp shallow exhale. “I do need a favour first though.”
You raise your brows, encouraging him to just hurry up and tell you because you’re about to start sweating bullets from how quickly this entire thing has flipped upside down. He sucks his lower lip under his teeth before releasing it. “Can you kiss me again?” You hesitate for a moment, swallowing and he glances from your mouth back to your eyes with a low voice still managing to sound coy somehow. “Pretty please? Cherry on top? Extra sprinkles too? I’ll be good I promise.”
You roll your lips into your mouth, your eyes giving away the smile you’re trying to hide as you fight the urge to laugh and hate the fact that you find this idiot adorable now. You actually enjoy kissing him. And he knows that now. It’s bad news, it gives him a power over you you don’t want him to have. Yet you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. If your subconscious were a person, it would be beating its face against a wall right now. Hormones make you fucking stupid.
He lets out a triumphant hum but immediately takes control of the kiss, hooking your legs around his hips and taking a hold of your face between his large hands. There is that silence in your head again. The kiss goes straight to heated, his tongue breaking past your lips to roll against your own and the way his mouth is attacking yours has you panting for any kind of air you can get. His soft moans that start vibrating up his throat have your skin prickling and it’s like your body doesn’t know what to do with itself, you went so long without feeling things like lust or pleasure and now it’s all you’re being bombarded with in a span of 48 hours.
After a few minutes of him scrambling your mind with his mouth, he pulls back with heavy eyes, pecking your lips once more before he rests his hands on your thighs with a smug look. “Thanks for the help.” He says with a deep exhale while he catches his breath. You quirk your brows together, trying to grip your bearings again. “Huh?”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, when he explains what he meant by holding your thighs and thrusting his hips forward, pressing a very distinct hardness against your centre and every muscle in your body constricts. He smirks at how rigid you become, lifting his brows with cheeky eyes and unwraps your legs from around him, pulling away and watches your reaction as he grabs the hem of his shorts again to pull them down. What the fuck is going on?
You dart your eyes away, looking at your lap and trying to stop your heart feeling like it’s about to give out, hearing Matty chuckle to himself before you hear the glass door to the shower open and close. You should leave. You really should, but you’re not and you don’t know if it’s because you’re paralysed with nerves or you actually want to be here. All you hear is the steady stream of the water being interrupted by Matty stepping underneath it, letting out a low relaxed groan that has you gripping to the edge of the counter top while your eyes stay firmly stuck on your legs.
The sound of the water hitting the ground in uneven patterns rings around the air, while you assume he’s washing himself but you just can’t bring yourself to look up. You’re still figuring out this attraction to Matty, if that’s what it is. You know that he’s physically appealing like, genetically but you’ve never been one that’s overly swept up in looks - are you just physically attracted to him? You guess you haven’t felt attraction in so long, you’re just unfamiliar with it now. The feeling is so new again, it’s uncomfortable because you don’t know what to do with it, or where to place it. You feel blindsided by it.
The seconds tick past like hours while your pulse hammers in your body until you hear Matty’s gruff voice trying to sound soft and reassuring. “Look at me, darling.”
You swear you’ve never found your legs more fascinating than in this moment.
“Hey.”
So, how about those legs?
“Look at me or I’ll get out of the shower and stand in front of you naked until you do - or just leave. It’s up to you.” You think your legs would give out if you tried to stand right now, so you swallow the ball of nerves in your throat and slowly drag your eyes up, taking a deep preparing breath before you move your gaze to the shower. Just look at his face.
Your eyes catch his bare wet torso, with his shoulders leant back against the tiled wall, facing you and staring at you through the misty glass and you notice his stomach contract as he breaths, the spares hairs from his belly button that trail down between his hips…That’s not his fucking face! Your eyes whip up, catching his hooded ones as he watches you with a calm expression but there is a faint concentrated crease between his brows. His hair is soaked and pushed away from his face, stuck to his neck and shoulders, and you watch his adams apple dip as he swallows before he speaks. “Just watch me okay? See how it makes you feel - if you want me to stop just tell me.”
It makes you feel like you’re going to have a stroke, just to clear things up. Matty’s eyes stay on yours, but his brows cinch tight together when he sucks in a sharp breath and his lips part, before he huffs out a puff of air with a barely audible moan. Oh God. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Your eyes glance down before you can stop them, seeing the fogged image of his fist wrapped around his length as he pumps it in slow motions and your stomach clenches that tight you just about hunch over, feeling like you’ve been kicked. Shouldn’t have looked.
You hold onto the counter for dear life, genuinely scared you’re going to fall over and you dart your gaze back to his face, completely frozen where you sit. You feel like you’re in some kind of trance, watching a car crash you can’t look away from while he keeps his eyes on you, rolling his head back against the wall to expose his throat while his chest starts to rise and fall faster. Your nerves are firing over your body, and the tension in the room that feels thicker than the stream damn near has you shaking while you watch his mouth fall open, echoing a deep strained moan around in the air as he starts to pant.
You’re certain you’re going to faint and crack your head on the tiles, you can already see it happening. Everything in you is screaming to look away and you just…can’t. Matty doesn’t take his stare off of you, and while you struggle to focus solely on his face you can see his shoulders tensing along with his chest muscles as he starts to work himself faster. He’s hazy through the steam on the glass, but droplets of water that trickle down it leave streaks that let hints of his clear image come through.
“Staying darling?” He drawls, his voice is low and out of breath and you sure as shit hope he doesn’t expect a verbal answer because your vocal chords feel as stunned into paralysis as your body does. He takes the fact that you haven’t budged as a response, and a ghost of a satisfied smile pulls on his mouth before he wets his lips and his breathing gets faster. “Just keep looking at me - M’thinking about you being in here with me, your hands on me. It’s driving me fucking insane.”
You swallow for what feels like the hundredth time, and your knuckles are white from how hard you’re holding onto the counter. A sheen of sweat starts to build on your forehead and chest, which you can’t tell if it’s from the steam in the room or what you’re seeing. Matty’s chest does a sudden jump, while his brows crease together and his jaw drops with a strained ‘oh fuck’ as his eyes pinch shut. Oh fuck indeed, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.
You’re clenching your jaw tight, but not as tight as you’re squeezing your damn legs together as his grunts and moans become louder mixed with the occasional profanity panting out of his mouth. You can hear the pulse ringing in your ears but it’s doing nothing to drown those sounds out, and when Matty’s jaw drops and his face scrunches up in so much pleasure it looks painful with his shoulders hunching forward you’re almost certain you’re going to faint.
You can see his body tremble and tense while he curses and grunts out moans that get cut off with sharp pants as his muscles constrict with what you can describe as nothing short of bliss across his face. You watch helplessly as Matty composes himself, catching his breath slumped against the wall and eventually moves back under the water and runs his hands through his drenched hair as it streams over him. He rinses himself off, then shuts off the water and wrings his hair out, flipping it away from his face before pushing the door open and walking out to grab a towel hung over the towel rack to wrap low around his hips.
You’re still a damn statue on the counter, trying to wrap your head around what you just watched and don’t even realise how heavy your own breathing is. You feel like this should be awkward, but it’s just not. The air of calm confidence he has as he turns and walks towards you, giving your rigid body a once over before he stands in front of you has you just speechless instead of anxious. He doesn’t say anything, probably aware that you wouldn’t be able to respond even if you wanted to and just grabs your waist to help you get off the counter.
You’re surprised your legs didn’t collapse underneath you. You feel like a walking stunned zombie, everything you just saw replaying in your head like some erotic movie in flashes. You turn because you think you’re going to leave the bathroom, but Matty stops you and stands behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. “Not so fast.” He tutts, smoothing his hands from your waist down to your front to lift the hem of your shirt and dip his fingers into your shorts.
You dig your fingernails into your palms to stop from jumping when his fingers go lower, sneaking past your underwear until they go between your legs and explore in a lazy back and forth stroke, arousal coating your heat that has you choking on a gasp. He pulls his hand from your shorts, moving his mouth to your ear and you can hear the damn cocky smile in his voice. “Guess we can add watching someone getting off to the list of things you like…naughty girl.”
You’re still wordless, absolutely shocked into helpless silence which only seems to entertain him more as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “You feeling okay?”
“Ha!” You wheeze, the only audible sound you can make because that question is so fucking ridiculous right now. He moves his hand to pat against your behind. “You’ll be fine. Besides, this’ll give you something to think about until I see you again. Come on, I’ve gotta get dressed.”
He nudges you forward with a hold on your hips, which makes you stumble and Matty chuckles to himself. He coaxes you out of the bathroom and walks you towards the bed where you flop down to sit, still acting like some trauma patient that’s seen some wild shit that sent them completely mute. Matty looks so happy with himself, you swear he’s trying to kill you.
You can hear him pulling his pants on, but that’s not what grabs your attention and makes your face whip to the doorway in panic. The front door opens, then shuts and you can hear your mother’s usual dramatic groaning as if she’s a creaky old chair. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Matty notices your whole body become stiff, looking to where the noise is coming from, then back to you and gives you a strange look but you only look at him feeling like all the blood is draining from your body. “You need to leave.” You burst, darting your frantic eyes to the door and back to a shirtless Matty that’s barely done his pants up. His brows scrunch up in confusion. “What?”
“You need to leave right now - preferably out the window.” You whisper yell, waving your hands at him. However, Matty doesn’t get a chance to ask you why you look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown because your mother’s voice comes from the door.
“Hey, I need a pain kill- oh, who’s this?”
Oh fucking hell.
#well#singularity matty#is that a tag now#shit#ok anyways#the 1975#matty healy#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty healy smut#spelling mistakes for days i bet#sorry
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