#I'm not even sad or anything I'm just...me

[egcdeath]

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.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #29

(#) = Notes at the end of post

✦

The Nasty Burger Explosion still happens, and Danny is left without his friends, family, and the only teacher who ever tried to help and encourage him in school. He manages to skirt around Vlad's custody by discovering a cousin of his Dad's he'd never heard about (1). He reached out to her, crying and begging for her to take him in. To not let Vlad anywhere near him.

Needless to say, after hearing a desperate teenager call her in tears and discover that besides Danny, her cousin Jack and his family had recently died in a horrible "accident," Lois nearly upends everything to go and get Danny from a middle of nowhere town in Illinois. After talking with Clark, of course. She didn't get one word in, however, cause he heard the entire phone call from the other room, though unintentionally.

After arranging for Mama Kent to watch over a still young Jon, they drove as fast as possible to meet this boy that already had their hearts in an iron grasp. When they first lay eyes on him, they immediately want to comfort him. His black hair is a tangled mess, his eyes bloodshot and red from crying. He sits in the corner of the school secretary's office, curled up in the small seat with an overstuffed backpack clutched tightly in a trembling, white-knuckled grip. A girl with dark skin and her hair held back by a headband sits with him, but she gets up and walks over as soon as she sees them enter the office. Danny doesn't seem to notice or even look up from where he's staring at the floor tiles.

"He's been hiding here for the last few days since he called you. He hasn't gone home once except to pack the bag he has with him." The girl explains. She holds out her hand to Lois for a handshake. "Valerie. You could say I'm a... friend of his (2). I'm assuming you're the cousin?"

Lois nods solemnly. "How's he been? He wouldn't tell me why he wouldn't go with his parent's first choice of custody. I've been worried."

Valerie grimaced and looked back at Danny before looking her directly in the eyes. "I can't say much without revealing anything i shouldn't. Let's just say Vlad has an unhealthy obsession with Danny, and it's unsafe to be around him. If he trusts you, he'll be the one to tell you the rest."

Clark and Lois share a look before they both nodded.

Valerie sees their acceptance and relaxes. She'd actually been tense the entire time she'd been talking with them.

"Well, with that said, I'll be going now." She rubbed the back of her neck and looked down with a sad expression. She looked back up at Lois with a deep sigh, and only then did Lois realize that Valerie looked to have been crying recently too. Looking between both adults, she made a quiet request. "Take care of him, will you?"

This time Clark is the one who finally speaks up. "You have our word he'll be safe and cared for."

Valerie's shoulders slump with a shuttering sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Once she left, Clark and Lois slowly approached Danny and sat to either side of him. Only then did he finally look up from the tiles and see them. His eyes ghosted over Lois but immediately locked onto Clark. He stared up at him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Clark shrunk his broad form down a little, concerned his build might be intimidating for the young man. "Hi there, bud." He said in a soft tone. "I'm Clark and this is Lois. We're here to pick you up."

When introductions didn't seem to get a reaction from the teen, Clark's brow furrowed further. "Something wrong?"

Danny finally blinked and quickly ducked his head back down to look at the floor. "N-No." He croaked. "Sorry. For a moment there, I thought you were-" He choked on his words and seemed to have difficulty swallowing. He was shaking, his face hidden against his knees with one of his arms braced over his head to hide even further.

When he finally managed to finish his sentence, Clark's heart shattered completely.

"I th-thought you were my dad."

Clark looked at Lois with lost, watery eyes only to see she was in the same exact predicament. She couldn't stand seeing Danny so heartbroken any longer and leaned over to wrap him in a hug, Clark soon following. After a while of shushing and murmuring words of comfort, Lois gently spoke up.

"Why don't we get your things in the car and we can get on the road."

Extracting himself from their warm hold, Danny took a deep, shuttering breath before nodding.

"Okay."

"Is there anything else we need to get from the house? You have everything?"

Gripping his bag tightly to his chest, he nodded again. (3)

"Yeah. I do."

✦

Side Note:

(1) He found out through Tucker. He'd searched through Danny's family tree for any living relatives in case Vlad ever actually managed to kill Jack or something else happened to both his parents. He just never imagined it would be for this reason specifically.

(2) Yes, she knows Danny is Phantom now. She did not know before. She found out after she tried to pin the blame for Danny's friends and family on Phantom while Danny was in earshot, and he basically blew up at her and broke down. She's horrified and feels terrible, so don't be too hard on her. The confrontation also happened on school grounds with a bunch of other kids present, so a good majority of the student body knows now, too. If not from seeing it first hand, then by word of mouth. They're keeping it hush hush so nobody with bad intentions towards ghosts comes looking for Danny. Valerie will be the main defense against any ghosts that pop up, as well as a few other kids she trained.

(3) Before he left, Danny did disable and completely dismantle the ghost portal and translated all his parent's research into a code him, Sam, and Tucker came up with before destroying the originals as well as the entire lab itself. Natural ghost portals can still pop up in Amity Park tho, since the ghost portal kinda oversaturated the town with ectoplasm. Valerie and the kids she trained are just a precaution.

Haven't come up with a title for this one yet. I'll add it later when it pops into my head though.

Funny enough, this actually isn't what I planned to write for this prompt. It did involve Danny getting adopted into the Kent family, but there was going to be something entirely different happening. Apparently, the characters had other plans. Oh well, I'll save it for the next one, I guess. It might be a second part of this, actually. We'll see!

Enjoy the angst & hurt/comfort tho!

[barrenclan]

i think rainhaze is one of my favorites characters ever genuinely, issue 37 was AMAZING and i really loved how rainhazes arc finally ended. I feel rlly happy bc this was a very poingant way of putting that rabid dog down but also i mean. I am a little sad. I pity rainhaze but in a way you pity a cocroach or something... He had it coming, his death was soooo well executed!! rain and all of defiance see killing as a divine right, and seeing that turn on rainhaze was very cathartic.

The casual way he spoke about asphodels murder was genuinely sickening. As if it was all a favor to HER, instead of rainhazes cowardice and trauma and brainwashing and selfishness making him kill his niece im cold blood. The way his own death dragged on and on, how painful and terryfying and gruesome it was - this is what asphodelpaw went through. Her death was not like falling asleep and neither was his. It was scary and painful and cold. So cold.

The way this comic completely subverted audience expectations with rainhazes character is sooo so good... At first he was just a chilli dead guy. then he turned into a classic winter solider type - morally dubious but still symphatetic, a 'poor little meow meow' who was stuck in a horrible situation he had no way of leaving. and then he killed asphodelpaw in cold blood. That moment, when he chose to embrace the violence, the damned coward, was such a delicious and twisted reaveal - forcing the reader to reconsider the whole story and character from an entirely new perspective.

i think we as people well versed in fandom tend to woobify and water down characters like rainhaze and make them into 'poor little meow meows' - removing their agency in the situation entirely to make them more personable and toned down - and rain feels to me like a purposful dissection of that. he IS sympathetic, to a degree. the shit he want through was undeniably awful - and it broke him and molded him into a monster.

rainhazes character was always about choice, i think. about decisions you make and the decisions made for you, and how you respond to the latter... about the question of autonomy. where does your choices end and other peoples influence begin? and does it really matter, in the end? does it matter whether or not rainhaze did what he did out of his own will or under rangers influence? he still did it. even if he were sorry, and hes not, would that matter? he killed her. there is no bringing her back and he had to deal with the consequences himself. abandoned by his family and his tormentor alike.

his death was pathetic and slow and pitiful, and above all disturbing - just like rainhaze himself. i think thats the word that describes him best - pathetic. rest in pieces, you cold bastard. ill miss you.

sorry this is so long..... i tried to put my thoughts into words here and i still fell short, i hope at least some of it makes sense

So, so many people have wonderful, intricate and moving thoughts about Rainhaze in my inbox, and I want to share them all with you. So here is the first one.

Rainhaze really did make for a great deconstruction of the "poor little guy" trope that I was interested in exploring. Shellspring also did, to an extent, but with Rainhaze I wanted to get really deep into it. How much of this is his fault? What could he have done differently? Is his death cathartic, satisfying, triumphant, painful, tragic, or anything else? It was a lot of fun to write and I'm glad so many people seem to have enjoyed it.

[aphrodisiaxcunt]

Silent, huh?

Cheater Gojo angst

Cont: Cheating, angst, heavy on angst, f!reader, sad ending, mentions of cheating, death, fuck you I'm sorry :(

Word count: 1.3k

You couldn't believe your eyes. Eyes that were wide staring at your phone, a photo your friend sent you plastered on the screen. What. The. Fuck.

It wasn't just any photo. God, you wished it would be any other photo right now.. but, alas, you couldn't have even that peace.

The photo your eyes were glued onto was that of your boyfriend kissing another woman. Outside of his car. In the driveway of her house.

What. The. Fuck.

You could feel the anger seeping to your fingertips, urging you to smash your phone or..or throw it or anything! Just a small release to your overflowing pot of hate you feel towards your boyfriend right now.

The anger gets redirected back to your head as you hear the keys of your soon to be ex-boyfriend jingling against the lock of your shared house, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

"Hey, sweetcheeks, I'm home!"

Fuck. His voice made you want to rip your ears off, the disgust fills your gut as your body starts feeling too heavy to stand. You sit down on the bed, gripping your phone in your hands right as Satoru walks into the room, looking for you.

"Heyy, silent, huh?~" Satorus voice drips with honey as he walks from the bedroom door to press a kiss against your forehead.

Finally, it's just too much, your eyes sting and dwell with heavy tears that are threatening to fall. The sickeningly sour feeling of betrayal pulls your lip back in a snarl, and you suck in a shaky breath of air from between your teeth.

"Don't touch me, Satoru..."

Satoru steps back, shock written on his face, and he tilts his head down to look at you.

"Woah, where'd that come from..?"

"Cut the crap... Who is she?" You snap, standing up from the bed and shoving your phone into his face.

Satoru feels the blood drain from his face, appearing somehow even paler than usual as his eyes land on the picture on your screen. His throat drying up as he gulps and his lips twist into a nervous smile.

"I can explain—"

"Yeah? You can explain? What good fucking explanation can you have for this?!" Your interruption smacks that stupid smile off of Satorus face as you point at the screen of your phone.

"Listen‐ Listen baby it wasn't anything serious I promise-" Satoru could feel tears forming in his eyes as he looked at yours falling down your cheeks, fuuuck..He really fucked up.

The guilt building up in his eyes in the forms of tears just makes you pull out a choked laugh from your throat.

"You're crying? Seriously, out of the two of us, you have no right to cry about this!" Your voice is shaky when you yell at him. Your lungs feel like collapsing in on themselves, and every single blink forces more salty tears to coat your cheeks.

Satoru couldn't do anything but press his lips together. The fear that if he tried to talk his own tears would finally break out, and he'd suffocate on his words, overwhelming every sense in his body.

"I want you out of this house, I never want to see you again.." The lump in your throat would feel like it's growing at every word, your voice trailing off to silence as you speak.

Satoru couldn't even answer you. The only thing he could do was just stand there and do nothing, only being snapped back once his phone started to buzz in his pocket with incoming calls and messages. The silence being broken down by his phone felt like how nails on a chalkboard sounds like, just growing worse and worse on every buzz. It's not quite bad enough to actually break the moment just there to worsen it, little by little, second by second until—

"Fuck, baby I- I gotta check it out.." Satorus voice is the first to actually snap the moment in half, like scissors cutting a string being stretched to its limits.

You turn your head away, crossing your arms over your chest as he takes his phone out to read the numerous messages that had been ruining your dramatic moment.

"It's Nanami, they need me in Shibuya for something..I'm sorry, can we please talk about this when I come home..?" His voice was pleading, nearly breaking into a whine as he put his phone back into his pocket.

You sigh.

"Yeah..Fine, let's talk when you come back. But this doesn't mean I hate you any less." Your words sunk into his guts like a punch. You hated him.. Maybe, no, definitely, it was deserved, but hearing his loved one, his girlfriend, the love of his life, say it so coldly to his face was agonising.

Satoru wanted to reach out to you, grab your hands, and pull you in, but both the urging of his peers and the hatred in your eyes just pushed him out. He would just deal with this shit going on in Shibuya and come back to you.. You'd be there waiting for him, definitely, you promised to talk to him once he came back so of course you'd be there!...Right?

It had been a while since you could gather up your own ego to see Satoru, around a month and a half, you'd guess.. You had picked up sunflowers on your way to see him. They're his favourite flowers, after all. You didn't exactly know why you even wanted to please him so bad by bringing flowers, come on, he was the one who cheated on you. But you had decided to at least try and be nice and push through this.

You hadn't really had any contact with him after he left you standing in your room alone. You had broken down very quickly after he had teleported away, gathering yourself for what felt like and probably was hours before falling asleep. Only to wake up alone at around midnight and continue crying into the mattress. Sometime in the morning, a sweet lady from your neighbourhood had come to the door to ask if you were okay. The wailing of your broken heart leaking from your throat probably kept the poor woman awake, and she didn't want to be mean..

Fuck, you felt so overwhelmed. The beating of your heart against the inside of your chest ringing all the way up in your ears as you clutch the flowers in your tight grip. You force yourself to suck in a deep breath before walking up to Satoru. Finding courage took you forever before you could even think to spit out something, anything just say anything. God, you must look awkward just standing there, SAY SOMETHING!

"Hey. Sorry I haven't.. Come see you.." You could barely even hear yourself talk over the loud thumping of your pulse in your ears. Your eyes felt so heavy from crying and the lack of sleep and seeing Satoru wasn't doing any good.

"Soo, how have you been?..Sorry, stupid question..Uhm...Fuck, I don't know what to say.." Your heart shattered at the silence that was meeting your minoscule efforts to a conversation. Gripping the flowers tighter and turning your gaze down, trying to hide your forming tears before chuckling to yourself.

"Silent, huh? Satoru?..." You whispered, pulling your sleeve over the palm of your hand to wipe away the tears before they had a chance to fall.

You couldn't say anything else, so you decide to just sit down by him and place the flowers over the dirt covering him, or whatever remained of him under there. Leaning your head against the cold marble headstone and pulling your legs against your own chest.

"You know Satoru, I don't actually hate you.." Was all you could muster from your lips before having to bury your face into your knees, biting into your lower lip in a silent cry. A cry that would slowly chip the silence away and break out in whines and sobs.

[lucy90712]

heyy love your writing:>

Could you pls do clingy jude x fem!reader?

This season has been an incredibly long one so many games so many ups and downs but it has been a lot of fun. I have loved watching Jude blossom at Real Madrid and win trophies which he has very much deserved. The one big downside is that we haven't spent as much time as we would like together Jude is always away for games or at training and when he's not I'm at work and even now the domestic season is over the euros start in a few weeks so we are going to be apart again. 

Just yesterday Jude was at the champions league final which I couldn't go and see in person and now in a few days time he has to head back to England to join the England team. When I went to bed Jude was still at Wembley but now that I've woken up he's asleep beside me so he must've made it home at some point during the night. His arm was loosely hung over my waist as he slept soundly. I wished we could stay like this forever but I have work and I'm sure Jude has celebrations to attend later with the team. As much as I should get up I can go without breakfast and use that time to just lay in bed with Jude for a few more minutes, out of habit my hands went to his hair playing with it which woke him up. Once he realised where he was he pulled me closer to him and just held me tightly which is really going to make getting up even harder. 

"Good morning" he said in his morning voice which I love so much 

"Morning and congratulations you played so well last night I'm so sad I couldn't be there" I said 

"Thank you but don't worry I know you had work I'm just glad you're here right now" he said 

"I wish we could spend more time together you've got to leave me again in a few days and then I won't see you until the euros have started" I said 

"Do you have to go to work today?" He asked 

"I'm afraid I do there's a few others off this week and we've got a lot to get done" I replied 

That made Jude frown and hold onto me tighter. The time indicated that I should've got out of bed 10 minutes ago but I still don't want to leave and I don't think Jude will let me just yet. My routine is completely ruined but I don't really care as I love to soak up moments like this as they have been rare recently. As time went on Jude only held me tighter and started pressing kisses to my face and neck almost teasing me as he was yet to reach my lips but eventually he pulled me down to give me what I had been waiting for. I've missed Jude's kisses so much so I let him keep kissing me for a few more minutes before I pulled away and tried to get out of bed. Jude didn't let me get up I tried but he was just too strong for me to be able to break free. 

"I have to go to work love" I said 

"Do you really have to" he whined 

"You know I do" I said 

Jude didn't say anything else he simply just grabbed my phone from my bedside table and started looking for something which confused me until he put the phone to his ear. He had called my boss and phoned me in sick which had me laying there completely shocked. I never thought he'd do something like that just to spend time with me but I can't say I'm mad about it because I've missed him so much and I haven't had a day off in months. It didn't sink in for a few seconds that I really didn't have to go to work but when Jude put my phone down smiling I realised I could snuggle back into his arms for as long as I wanted to. 

We stayed in bed for a while until we were both starting to get hungry but before we could eat I wanted to brush my teeth. Jude joined me in the bathroom to brush his teeth too but he didn't let go of me even for a second he even stood behind me with his arms around my waist as I washed my face and did my skincare. Once I was done he picked me up and put me over his shoulder and carried me down the stairs which I would complain about but he used to do it all the time when we got to see more of each other so I just enjoyed getting to be like we used to. He took me to the kitchen and put me down and just stared at me which to others might seem weird but I knew exactly what he was asking. He wanted to order breakfast and I wasn't going to say no as I didn't really want to cook. 

I let him order whatever he thought I'd want as he usually gets it right then I suggested we make some fresh orange juice as for some reason we have a load of oranges that we definitely won't eat before they go bad. Jude got the juicer we have for whatever reason and I cut the oranges so they can go in the machine but I wasn't tall enough or strong enough to actually press the oranges into the juicer. I needed Jude to help me so he got the little step stool we have in the kitchen to help me reach things and put his hands on mine to help me push all the oranges through the juicer. We made a pretty good team and made a good amount at least enough for a glass for both of us which I poured while Jude answered the door as our food arrived. 

We ate breakfast before sitting on the sofa where we stayed for pretty much the whole day just cuddling and catching up on the shows we like to watch together but have become quite behind on. Both of us are normally quite active people and hate to sit around all day but I loved spending all day just cuddling with Jude and that's how I know we've both missed each other's company. Thinking about the fact that I'm just a few days we will have to be apart again made me so sad. I didn't realise just how much I missed him and our days together until we actually got to be together and now I don't want him to leave again. 

"Have you got work for the next few days?" Jude asked 

"Yeah sadly I really wish I didn't but if I want time off the the euros I can't take any more they will fire me" I said 

"You don't need this job if you want to work you can find another company to work for that is more flexible we never see each other as they always make you work overtime and extra days" Jude said 

"I know but my coworkers will end up with so much more to do and then I'll feel awful" I said 

"If that wasn't a factor would you prefer to stay or leave?" Jude asked

"I think I'd prefer to leave" I admitted 

"Then do it spend the summer with me and then look for a new job once the season restarts" Jude said 

"Are you sure I have some savings but not enough for a few months of not working" I said 

"I'm completely sure I can afford everything and I'd much rather you be happy and I want to enjoy the summer with you" he said 

"Then it's settled I'll hand in my notice later today and take the rest of my holiday to cover my notice period" I said 

Jude didn't say anything else he just kissed me and held me tighter. This definitely feels right and I can't lie that I'm really happy and relieved that I can spend the whole off season with Jude and experience pre season and the euros with him properly. 

[ronearoundblindly]

omg not me freaking out that i am part of the group that gets bait gifs! FRIENDS!!!!!!! i'm fine. i'm chill. don't leave me!

This took me a minute to figure out what I wanted Sir Dorksalot to have done that was sketchy enough to have him make this face...

Watch The Fish, Jake Jensen x reader headcanon wholeass fic in bullet format because my god this got long

Warnings for mentions of masturbation and porn, accidental then totally intentional voyeurism, awkward and oblivious!Jake--so just Jake, yeah?--and smutty implications...

🥹 roommates to lovers 😊

you rent a pretty large house maybe even with one or two others at first, but they move out

jake has to use it as a crashpad sometimes because he'll be away for so long at a time, but he pays rent and the entire electrical & internet bill no matter what

you keep a fish tank in the living room

after jake comes back from months in hiding abroad away, he gets so excited to be home and spend time with his niece that he hosts an after-game pizza party for her soccer team

someone practices headbutting the ball inside and nearly topples the tank

jake catches the whole thing with his broad arm-span and a decent amount of strength just in time when it wobbles the whole table beneath it. his heart nearly stopped, and he's so grateful the glass didn't break. thank god you weren't home.

however, you insist on moving the fish to your room instead once he tells you.

jake's a little sad to see them go. he pouts so much you decide to take pity on him, buying a web cam to mount beside the tank so jake can watch them whenever he wants. he loves to do voices for each one, personalities, soap-opera-like dramatic storylines, the works

as an aside you ask him if the sound can be turned off on the camera. jake says yeah but he mostly means he can turn it to mute on his computer.

which he does, for the record, but he has to remember to do it each time he pulls up the feed of da fishies. honestly, half the time he's wearing headphones and the other half you aren't home while he puts the Marauders (because there's just one fat one) onto his third monitor for background.

so he forgets that the sound is on and a thing he might need to avoid

weeks later, maybe months, jake finally removes his headphones after a very long stint of coding, completely unaware of what time it is and that you are home in your room

at first, jake is dead convinced that some porn ad has popped up in a window behind his work, something he would go apeshit about and ransomware bomb the shit out of whoever wrote such slippery spam

the fish are peaceful as ever, blooping away whilst jake frantically closes program after program trying to find the hot chick moaning on his desktop...until it's all closed and the buzzing remains though his tower's fan stopped...then the squelching noise starts

jake is frozen in place, looking away from the fish like they're the damn problem, but he doesn't cut the feed

he...he shouldn't

he should turn it off or just mute it like he promised

and he tries

he tries really hard, gang

it's the cursor's fault that it hits the command to send the audio to his bluetooth headphones instead of mute

and he sets the headphones down on the keyboard, gnawing on his bottom lip and watching his closed bedroom door in anticipation of...getting caught, maybe? he's not sure

he watches the fish putter around like it's no big deal

which it isn't, right?

you're human. he's human. humans have urges. they touch themselves--they touch each other, too--and there's no harm in that. if anything...jake encourages it, or he would...if you knew that he knew about this

the noises are so faint from the itty bitty speakers two feet from his face, but he doesn't pick them up, still debating what to do

because there's a big difference between what jake should do in this situation and what he wants to do

he mutes audio and then cuts off the livestream

at least, that's what he did the first time it happened

he knows he's a perv. jake can't help it.

it becomes a game of sorts. it's like practice recon for learning a target's routine. not that jake needs practice at the job he already fucking has but that's how his brain justifies laying on his own bed in the glow of the fish tank feed with his headphones turned way up

he knows your bed is on the other side of your room from when he moved the fish tank in

he knows what your underwear look like from the laundry room downstairs

he knows what you smell like from the shared bathroom and the products lining your shelf

he now knows there's a bottle of toy cleaner in one of your sink drawers

and he shouldn't but he absolutely touches himself listening to you, fists himself when you're fucking a toy he imagines six-shapes-to-Sunday, teases himself when all you're doing is breathing softly from across the whole house and he's cold and covered in cum by the end

to be fair, jake hates himself because of all this, but he is now mildly addicted

he doesn't even exit out of the livestream anymore. it just stays up on his monitor like a screensaver, but he doesn't realize that once he takes his headphones out of range, the audio transfers to his speakers again

so jake goes on a mission for a few days, and at some point while you are cleaning up your room, playing music, you find two pairs of jake's socks in your load of clean laundry and go to toss them in his room...where the same music you're listening to way down the hall is playing...in sync...

you're horrified and then embarrassed and then quickly realized it might mean nothing

you have to test if it means something

jake returns from his mission on complete autopilot

just so damn tired

throws down his duffle on top of some socks he doesn't remember leaving out and just hits the shower for a long, long time

he hasn't talked to you yet

he hasn't even seen you except your car is home and your door is shut

he goes about his business

the volume on his speakers isn't high but he hears you speaking and assumes you're on the phone

he pays it no mind. he is glad to be home, glad you're fine since he's just been in a part of the world where most people are not safe.

in a weird sort of way, he feels he's earned the mundane sort of comfort that comes from "the same ol'" of this house

he's wiped out, so he crawls into bed with his headphones immediately, hair barely toweled dry, not bothering with boxers because...why make more laundry?

and then the worst thing happens

there's a man's voice coming through his headphones, and jake scowls in frustration and rage

did you go and get a fucking boyfriend? in a couple of days? or goddamnit is this some tinder shit in his home right now?

but it only gets worse

he can hardly contain himself, what with the gagging sounds and this dude telling you to take it like the whore you are, and JAKE WILL LITERALLY BURN THIS PLACE DOWN

now his ass is putting on clothes

now his ass is ready to riot

the sex gets more and more degrading; spanking noises and even choking, but not in a seemingly consensual way, which is when jake rips his headphones off, storms down the hall and barrels straight through your bedroom door

where...you...aren't

no one is. no you. no man.

just your laptop sitting on your desk near the fish tank, playing the money shot of a porn video he was just listening to

get the fuck out. get out. get out. his brain screams, and he bolts

he makes it three feet before stopping short

you're standing at the top of the stairs, a bowl of ice cream in hand, licking the spoon unbelievably slowly with your whole tongue

you're fucked. you're fucked. you're fucked. his brain adds helpfully.

"hey, jakey," you say with a smile. "whatcha doing?"

A/N: this cat is officially my reaction to pretty much everything because...well...it's very accurate.

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[mariii1]

🧚🏾‍♀️Messages From Your Queer Ancestors✨

I'm backkkkk, check Patreon for my extended general version of this reading!

AHHHH I'm so excited to launch my Patreon, you guys don't even know about all the ideas I have lined up and I'm sure there's more to come as this month goes on! Anyway these photos are all from pinterest buttt see if you can guess who's a very important figure and whyy 😽

1. So a few of you in this pile are trying to force yourself to forgive qhen you don't actually want to (or need to) and for the rest you're almost bulldozing over your identity and how it's affected you. I have a feeling you hang around people who don't know about your identities and would outright make fun of you or disrespect you in some way because of it. Your ancestors are way more sad than angry; if anything they're sad that these people are around you and they're sad that you don't honor or place importance on those aspects of your identity enough to walk away from them. Some of you might believe you'll never find people who truly accept and understand all these aspects of you so you've completely given up on it. Your environment might now is definitely very homophobic/transphobic or just xenophobic in general. While you might've been born in these environment or have had to stay in it, your queer ancestors want you to believe in yourself and in your queer identities; those aspects matter just as much as other parts of yourself. They want you to focus on creating an exit/escape plan out of this situation and to find the strength and hope in you to believe you will be able to find the right people one day instead of just completely shutting this idea out.

2. Things are going to change for you very, very soon. Some of you may be doubting a partner or a close friend in terms of loyalty or how much they love/respect you, but you'll soon realize these are just fears with no real basis. You will hit the jackpot somehow or you'll realize you have already in some area of your life. If you're financially broke right now, there's an idea or action you take that'll be the jackpot literally in terms of money and its something you didn't expect to happen, or at least to such a large degree. Keep doing what you're doing and the truth will be revealed to you soon.

3. I feel like me and your queer ancestors would've been good buddies and they've been so nice to me since the beginning of this reading. You're blessed spirituality in terms of family even if your immediate family right now is dog shit. You all however are really tired. I'm getting for most of you this isn't necessarily physically but more tired of people trying to fuck you over or fuck with you in general. You might've had to cut a lot of people out and seek justice or revenge in some way; ways that might be very tedious or draining like filing paperwork, legal battles, etc. I'm sincerely sorry if you have experienced some form of assault especially sexual assault please rest assured you will get justice whether through the system or not. You feel really tired pile 3 and this might sound infantilizing but I mean it in the sweetest way, you need a hug. You need someone to be understanding of you and you might wish you had someone physical to rant to. This might not bring you much comfort but your ancestors are watching your struggles and they wish they could coddle and baby you. A few of them see you as a baby and it breaks their heart that their baby is so stressed out 🥹 they are still proud of you and are rooting for you ad wish to send you lots of money so you can focus on self-care. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it pile 3!

4. Some of you feel very stagnant or just stuck in a situation especially financially. You might've realized something was a scam or actually wasn't going to lead to anything more; this could be about staying at a toxic workplace in hopes of getting a promotion or being transferred to a better team. I'm also having a hard time focusing on your reading so you might just be feeling overwhelmed or scattered. You realized a situation would never get better but now you don't know what to do or you've convinced yourself you have no other options left that are any better. However, I'm getting this really isn't true and it might take a drastic change in your mindset in order to see the potential of other possibilities. This could be realizing going back to school or learning a trade might not be so bad or that maybe relying on online income (influencing, youtube, etc.) Could actually be a real plan. These are just examples but your queer ancestors are really begging you to try and think outside of the box and realize "standard" job opportunities might not be as reliable as they seem and that options that seem very flaky, can be very stable if you put in the work.

[spopsalt]

Hey, sad that this needs to be said, but to Brandon please do not use sexual insults when describing children, like using any word like "slut" or "whore" when describing even fictional children is just really disgusting <3 I still don't understand why he had to make the insult sexual like he was talking about a LITERAL 17-YEAR-OLD! I'm not trying to accuse Brandon of anything, just to be clear, but did he really have to use a sexual term to insult Octavia who is again 17!? He couldn't use the word "dumbass" or "bitch" or literally any other non-sexual insult?! Like he's allowed to dislike a character (Even though his reason for disliking her is stupid because she stops his favorite abusive otp from getting together and Octavia is fucking awesome but whatever) Just using the specific insult "slut" when discussing a child really irks me.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter eleven

Summary: “You’re the heart of the family, Sweetheart.”

Warning: Fluff. Crying, it's Cry Baby after all.

Word Count: 1572

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A/N: I'm so so so sorry. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10

About a week passed since the latest bar incident, and life had slowly begun to return to normal. Rumlow wasn’t embarrassed to show his face around the bar anymore and everyone stopped staring at you and whispering when you walked in. 

Tonight, you decided to head back to the bar again. The familiar establishment was filled with the usual crowds, creating a lively atmosphere. Your friends greeted you with warm smiles and hugs. 

The conversation flowed easily, yet as the night went on, you began to notice once again that everyone in your friendship group was wearing their matching ‘Avengers’ leather jackets. You hadn’t gotten one, and it always made you feel a bit left out, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. 

Bucky was the first to notice the sudden shift in your demeanor. “Something on your mind?” he asked, his knee nudged against yours gently under the table. 

You hesitated, looking up at him. “It’s silly, really,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “But, I can’t help feeling a bit… left out, I guess.” 

He furrowed his brow, concern flickered in his eyes. “Left out? Why?” 

You glanced up toward the ceiling, trying to stop the tears from flowing, you felt foolish for even having these thoughts never mind speaking them. “It’s just… you’re wearing your jackets, and I don’t have one. At least, not my own.” 

“That’s not silly,” Bucky replied. He reached his hand under the table, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your thigh. “I get it, you want it to look like you’re apart of the group, not just seen with us?” 

You met his gaze, giving him a small nod. He squeezed your thigh while sending you a smile. “Well, then. I think I have a solution.” 

Before you could respond, he stood up and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders. “Here,” he said, holding it out to you. “Now you match.” 

You shook your head, surprised by his gesture. “Bucky, I can’t take your jacket.” 

He hesitated for a short moment, disappointment flashed over his eyes before he shook his head back at you. “Consider it a loan, just until we get you one of your own.” 

You held up your pinky finger, forgetting where you both were for a moment. Your pinky promises had never happened in front of anyone else but each other. Only ever in your apartment, never in public. 

Yet, his pinky finger tangled itself with yours. “Thank you,” you said softly, accepting the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. That familiar scent envelops you, like a protective embrace. 

“Anything for you, Sweetheart,” he said, widening his smile before taking a sip of his beer. As he did, his muscles became defined by the dim light of the bar. Shadows cast over them, accentuating their contours. You found yourself gazing at his arms for a lingering moment, as though you were seeing them for the first time. 

~

A couple of days later, as you were getting ready for an evening at home, you heard a knock on your door. You stopped what you were doing instantly, opening the door slightly to see who it was. No one was there, yet you found a small wooden box sitting on the doormat. Intrigued, you picked it up and examined it closely. 

The box was beautifully crafted, with familiar delicate cravings adoring the cedar. You traced your fingers over the patterns. Inside the box, there was a note attached to a wrapped parcel, written in Bucky’s handwriting. 

Opening the note, you read it carefully. It simply said, “You’re the heart of the family, Sweetheart.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you kept rereading the note. It was a simple message, but it meant more to you than your emotions could let you express. With a shaky breath, you unwrapped the parcel and found a soft, cozy, pastel pink cardigan neatly folded. 

As you inspect the cardigan, you notice the patches on the back, taking your breath away. 

You ran your fingers over the embroidered designs, tracing the outline of each patch: the Avengers logo, that you sketched years before, and your initials. The tears that were previously welling now spilled down your cheeks. 

With trembling hands, you reached for your phone and pressed Bucky’s name. As the call connected, his face appeared on the screen, immediately softening when he saw you. 

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?” his voice filled with concern as he noticed your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“I just…” you tried to find your words between hiccups. “I just wanted to… I wanted to thank you for the cardigan. It’s… it’s perfect.” 

Relief washed over his face, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad you like it,” he said softly. “I thought you’d feel more comfortable with a cardigan than a leather.” 

Looking at him through the screen, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

You took a deep breath after the call with Bucky ended, taking the note, you made your way to the kitchen. Carefully you attached the note to the door of your fridge. It felt like an important reminder. 

Stepping back to admire the note, you wrapped the cardigan tighter around you.

~

A few days later, you were settling into your nightly routine, getting ready for bed, before another knock at your door. You hesitated to answer it, yet another knock came with a ‘It’s me,’ mumbling behind the door. 

Answering it, you found Bucky standing on the other side, looking worse for wear again. 

“Dare I ask?” you asked, making room for him to enter as concern filled your eyes and a small frown tugged at your lips. 

He shook his head as he made his way to his usual seat at your dining table. “Just a little scrap, nothing serious,” he replied, giving you a weak smile. 

You weren’t convinced, it was never just ‘a little scrap’ when Bucky was concerned. “Let me take a look,” you insisted as you made your way into the kitchen to fetch your first aid kit. 

As you worked on tending to his wounds, cleaning and bandaging his knuckles, his gaze froze and fixated on something behind you. “Wait, who is this?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion as he stood, making his way over to where he had looked.

You turned to see what he was looking at, you blinked feeling a rush of guilt wash over you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” you said, trying to play it cool as you reached out to take the tiny white kitten from his arms. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression skeptical. He moved the kitten out of your reach. “Sweetheart, the cat? The cat I am very clearly holding…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowed at you. 

“There’s no cat here, Bucky,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. And, still trying to reach the kitten.

Bucky started at you for a moment, an unreadable expression over his features. “Are you okay?” he asked, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. 

You glanced around nervously, a pang of guilt rushed through you for keeping the truth from him. “I, um, I’m not allowed to have pets here, but I couldn’t say no to her…” you whispered in a rush. 

His eyes softened. “You are the sweetest thing,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “But, wait… does that mean? Little Miss Rogers… the cities Cry Baby… my Sweetheart? Are you breaking a rule?” he added with a mocking gasp and a teasing tone. 

You nodded sheepishly, a flush of heat creeping up your cheeks. “I know, I know,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. “I couldn't just leave her.” 

Bucky shook his head, “Well, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he admitted, the hand he wasn’t using to hold the kitten reaching out to cup your cheek. 

~

As the night began and ran into the early morning, you and Bucky found yourselves lost in conversation, the kitten purring between the pair of you on the couch. Amidst the laughter and the warmth of each other’s presence, there was a subtle shift in the air. 

Bucky tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered as he looked at you, the way your glossy eyes sparkled with excitement over any small gesture the kitten did. He couldn’t deny the surge of affection washing over him, he had an overwhelming urge to reach out and pull your face toward his. 

He wanted to hold onto this moment, but he knew he couldn’t. As painful as it was to admit to himself, he knew he had to leave. 

Bucky stood up from the couch, forcing a smile as he tried to hide the rage inside him. “It’s getting late,” he said softly, “I should probably head home.” 

Confusion and a hint of sadness flickered across your face, you assumed he would have been spending the night at your apartment, like the majority of the nights recently. “Oh, okay… I guess you’re right,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. 

As he made his way to your door, he paused a moment of hesitation before turning back to look at you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” 

You smiled weakly, a lump forming in your throat as you watched him leave. “Goodnight, Bucky.” 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[princessmaybank]

AAAAH CONGRATULATIONS ON THE 1.5K BESTIEEEEE 💕💕💕💕

I'm intrigued in finding out what you're gonna cook up with this one

🍒 22.) "Do I make you horny Y/N?" with JJ ofc ;))))))) with him edging reader like crazy

love youuu 💕💕😘

Thank you for your ask baby! I hope you enjoy this! I tried! Sorry it's longer than I anticipated. Let me know what you think!

Do I Make You Horny?

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I think it's literally just oral (Fem. receiving) and edging...if not let me know!

Summary: Read the ask ^

Author's Note: I hope you like it! I tried!

Y/N's POV:

"Pope what the fuck?!" JJ squealed to his best friend that splashed him with water. Pope only laughed in response as JJ started pulling his shirt off over his head. I couldn't help but squeeze my thighs together when I saw his wet abs. It was only us three today because the others had work or were busy to some capacity.

My eyes wandered my best friend's toned body as I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. I tried so hard to focus on literally anything else. The guys started walking towards me so I tried to re-adjust myself. "Hey sorry Y/N something came up and I'm gonna have to leave." My eyes met with a sad Popes. "That's okay Pope, we can hang later." I smiled at him before he walked away. "Does that mean you're leaving too?" I look to JJ. "No, we're friends too, we can hang, unless ya don't wanna.." He said shrugging his shoulders. "No!" I shout. My cheeks went hot from embarrassment. I tried to hide it as he sat at the foot of my long beach chair. "I mean no, I'd like to hang with you Jay." I said once I figured out how to speak correctly again. He chuckled lightly to himself before looking me in the eyes. "C'mon let's go to the chateau." He helps me off the chair and we pack up, heading towards John B's house.

JJ POV:

"Pope what the fuck?!" I threw my hands in the air after he splashed me with water. I hated the feeling of a wet T-shirt, it didn't sit right with me so I took it off and threw it to the side. "Yo, looks like you've got an admirer." Pope points toward Y/N, who is staring at me like she is ready to devour me. "Fuck me..." Is all I could mutter. "Maybe you should go sort that out.." My best friend winked at me and patted my back. "You sure bro?" I asked, feeling bad about leaving him hanging. "Dude, plenty of time to catch up later. Go get em tiger." He pats me on the back before we walk over to her and explain that he needed to leave. When we got over there, she looked so flustered, it made my dick tug in my jeans.

I finally got her to agree to go back to the chateau with me. She hopped on my bike after I did and she seemed a little scared. "Gotta hold on Y/N." I tried to grab her arms and pull them around my torso but she pulled away. I couldn't see her face but I bet her cheeks are beat red right now. "C'mon I won't bite, gotta hold on to me." I say teasingly. She still didn't listen so I threw my kickstand up and jerked the bike forward, it made her fall into my back and hold on tight. I smirked to myself and drove us to JB's house.

When we got there she seemed so on edge, I tried handing her a beer, even trying to get her to have a smoke sesh but nothin. She just sat there with her hands between her thighs. They squeezed her clasped hands and she couldn't look me in the eyes. She was so turned on. I can't lie, seeing her like this made my dick twitch. "Hey y'alright?" I ask trying to have some sort of conversation. "I'm fine, we just never hang out, alone." That's the point. Needed her alone. Needed her to myself. I walk over and sit next to her on the couch. My hand gently placed itself on her thigh before I took the last swig of my beer. "So?" I ask curiously. "So...it's not like awkward?" She still couldn't look at me. Her thighs seemed to be squeezing tighter now that I was so close. "Why would it be awkward?" I try to get her eyes on mine without touching her. She stayed silent.

I asked again. "Y/N. Why would it be awkward?" I say and as soon as I'm finished with my sentence, I grab her chin and tilt it up so her gorgeous eyes are on mine. I must have done it a little forcefully based on the whimper that shot out of her mouth. A smirk gathered on my lips as I squeezed her thigh, eliciting a moan from her lips. I bring her face closer, now more intimidating. "Do I make you horny, Y/N? " I ask and watch as her cheeks flushed. "W-wha-" She was frantic before I shushed her. "Hey, it's okay.." I released her hands from her thighs "..got me excited too princess." I say and place one of her hands on my covered cock. Her mouth shot open in surprise.

"I don't know what you're talking about Jay..." She stood up fast and wrapped her arms around herself. "Y/N.." I warned, standing slowly. "Come here." I motioned with my fingers. Surprisingly she complied. I dip my head next to her ear and place my finger in the band of her shorts, sliding back and forth teasingly. "So you're telling me, that if I dip my fingers in that sweet little pussy of yours.." I exhale deeply. "..you won't soak my fingers?" My hand traveled lower, I heard her gasp from my touch when I reached her clit. Pushing past, I slowly meet her entrance before sliding them in with ease. She gasped louder this time. "Still don't know what I'm talking about?" I asked, pulling my fingers from her hole and bringing them between our faces, showing off just how slick she was with one pump. I looked her in the eyes as I sucked her juices off of me. "So sweet..gonna let me taste some more princess?" She was awfully quiet today, nothing like her. "I see the uncertainty in your eyes princess, why don't we have a trial run, you let me eat you out and if it doesn't work or is too overwhelming, we never talk about it again." I smile at her. "What if it does.." She questioned, her cheeks were hot. "Then we'll talk about this, but for now I really wanna dip my tongue in you...gonna let me?" She nods and I lead her to the bedroom.

By the time I got her bottoms and panties off, she was breathing heavily and trying to hide. I reassured her that I was so excited to see her beautiful body. Eventually she trusted me and opened up for me. My first finger found its way to her opening and ran up and down her slit. "I'm gonna ask you again, since I didn't like your answer last time." I chuckled and looked up at her. "Do I make you horny, Y/N? " I smirked as her cheeks blared red. "Ye-yes." She whispered. "Yes what princess?" I teased and continued moving my finger up and down. "Ye-yes daddy-" Y/N said. It spilled right out of her mouth. She looked extremely embarrassed, but I was hot and bothered by it. "Not what I was asking for, but I like your response better." I smirk. "Keep calling me that princess." My tongue poked out and I placed it at the bottom of her entrance. I slid it up slowly to her clit and back down.

As my tongue picked up pace while swirling all around, my fingers found her nipples and pinched them. I looked up for a moment and saw that she was covering her mouth, she was still being quiet. I pulled my mouth away and got close to her. Y/N whined when I got close. "I was about to cum.." Shock was written over my face. "Princess. I highly doubt that. You didn't make a peep." I laid next to her. "No I swear I was so close!" She exclaimed. "Okay well you're gonna have to let me hear those pretty little sounds come from your lips if ya want me to do my job right." I smirked and her cheeks heated up again. She was so easy to fluster. I loved it. Y/N nodded in response and I got back to work.

I looked up from my position between her legs and noticed she was subconsciously starting to cover her mouth again, so I did what anyone else would do and bit her clit. She let out a loud moan and rolled her hips on my face.

I replayed that moment in my head so many times in the moment and tried not to bust in my shorts. My lips stayed on her clit and sucked as my fingers started pushing inside her. "Oh shit- Jay-" She moaned again. As much as I loved hearing my name on her lips, I asked her to call me something else. I pulled away again, removing my fingers as well. "What did you call me princess?" I smirked as she whined. She looked up at me with an annoyance in her eyes. "Your name!" She crossed her arms. "That's not my name right now princess..you know that." I slapped her clit lightly and her body jerked. "I'm sorry." She huffed. I gave her a look telling her she was missing something. "I'm sorry- daddy.." She rolled her eyes. I laughed. "That'll do for now, we'll talk about your attitude later." I squatted in front of her again, taking the same position I'd been in this entire time.

My tongue went into her hole and I flicked it up and down slowly. Her small hands found my hair, tugging gently, though she'd probably think she was being too rough. "Please- more.." She gasped. "More what princess..?" I asked and went back in. "Please give me more daddy.." She barely got through her sentence before I picked up my pace and fucked her with my tongue. My hand traveled to her clit and rubbed harsh circles, making more moans slip out. My mouth left her opening and spit on her lower lips. I sucked on them a little before my tongue went to her clit and my fingers went back inside her hole. Her moans were more intense now.

I chuckled and pulled my lips away from her and slowed my fingers down, not to a stop, just enough for her to want more. "Look at me. Look me in the eyes princess.." I said slightly above a whisper. She's such a good girl, her eyes fell to mine. "Do I make you horny, Y/N? " I smirked. "Y-you- asked that already..please- faster.." Y/N whined. "C'mon princess, just answer the question and you'll get what you want.."

A whimper left her lips. My fingers pumped slowly inside of her, not picking up any pace. "Mmmm please-" Maybe she wasn't a good girl. My free hand went to her clit and slapped it harder than last time. "Yes daddy! Yes you make me horny!" She screamed, for everyone to hear. Thankfully no one was home. Actually I'm not sure I'd care if they had heard her coming undone for me. I sped up and reattached my lips to her clit, licking and sucking on it until her back arched off the bed.

"Gonna cum for me princess?" I moved for a brief moment and immediately went back. "Mmm- uh-huh, f-fuck.." She breathed out through moans. I removed my fingers and replaced them with my tongue so I could taste her. Soon enough she released in my mouth while she screamed my name. My tongue cleaned up any cum that I may have missed and I went up to lay with her.

"So.." I teased. Y/N chuckled with her eyes closed. "Jay- let's talk later, let me catch my breath then I'm sucking your dick." I laughed so hard. "Okay pri-" She cut me off. "No- You think you can edge me a few times and think you can just get away with that? I don't think so." Oh fuck. I should've thought about that. "Fine princess, just go easy on me.." I smiled. "Yeah, sure. You're cute."

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> riki nishimura x reader genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> neglectment / rejection word count -> 1.9k

abstract -> why do you really think of me?

y/n’s perspective

“y/n come on help me a little,” Chenle said and I refused to go home. “You normally don’t drink a lot and you always want to make it home to that cat,” he said, making my vision blurry. 

“No no no, don't cry again!” he said and I couldn’t stop my sobs.  “Niki doesn’t trust me” I muttered and I heard a sigh. “That cat loves you more than everything,” he said and I shook my head. 

“He thinks I'm like the hybrid collectors… maybe he even sees me like my dad” I slurred. Suddenly I feel myself being lifted. “Come on, tighten your grip,” he said as he was giving me a piggyback ride. 

“Riki loves you so much. We’ve all seen how much he does… I don’t know what he said to make you think otherwise but remember you’ve been by each other’s side for years” he said and I knew what he meant. 

My heart just hurts a little thinking back on what he said. I forgot my phone when I went back to get it when I heard him say I might do the same… to dump and replace him.

“y/n!!” I heard the familiar voice and instead of reaching out to him, I tightened my grip on Chenle. “Oh come on y/n!  Please… did our talk not do anything?” he pleaded and I refused to look at Riki. “Is she okay?” I heard the familiar voice say. Who was that again?

“You need to remember how sensitive she is,” I heard Chenle scold. “What? What happened?” I heard. “Down you go,” he said as I felt the comfy sheets. 

“Get out Riki… let her sleep. You’ve made her cry enough” 

niki’s perspective

Chenle, one of her friends, dropped her off. It was two in the morning when she came back. I called when it hit midnight worried as to why she didn’t send a message or call. 

She left her phone here… I had to call until Chenle said he’d look for her. She smelled so strongly of alcohol… and she didn’t want to see me. Why? What had happened? 

“This is good for hangovers,” Jay said as he held a tea. “When are you going home?” I asked and he sighed. “I’m supposed to get picked up at the classes,” he said and I sighed. “We should check on her,” he said and I didn’t want to open the door. 

She was upset because of me… but why?

He opened the door anyway despite me sitting in front of it. He took the tea and left it at her side. Her cheeks looked puffy and those clear tear-stained marks on her cheek were making her face red... 

I stood up to get a closer look. 

“Why is she upset with you?” he asked and I ignored him. Instead, I sat by her bed waiting for her to wake up. “If you're the reason she’s upset maybe you shouldn’t be the first thing she wakes up to,” he said and I sighed. 

Why was she upset? What did I even do?

I soon heard her bed creak meaning she got up. I wanted so badly to go in there and ask what was wrong. I soon instead saw the door open. She was dressed in her school uniform with a jacket over her blazer. 

“y/n–” “A driver will take both of you to your classes” She cut me off and walked away. We always went together… It was on the way to her classes. 

“It's still early for your class though! Maybe you should–" "Wonyoung and I are going to get something on the way… make sure to eat though. The chef will be here soon.” she said as she put her shoes on and closed the door. 

She’s been awake for not even an hour. 

Why was she already avoiding me?

y/n’s perspective 

That doesn’t sound like the Riki we know,” Wonyoung said and Seonghwa agreed next to her.

“He said it… he doubts me enough to say that,” I said, still sad he would ever think I’d do that to him…

“I heard Chenle took you home?” Seonghwa asked and I nodded. “I’ll need to thank him,” I said and they nodded. “At least he was there… he often takes care of his best friend so you were in good hands,” Seonghwa said. “The one in China,” Wonyoung clarified.

“I’m surprised you still wanted to pick him up today…” Seonghwa added and I sighed. “I babysat Jay… I need to apologize to him” I said and they nodded.

A bunch of hybrids came out until I saw mine… instead of approaching him, I went to Jay when I saw him.

“I’m sorry you witnessed my tantrum… I should’ve been taking care of you instead” I said and he shook his head. “It’s okay, no need to apologize… I was fine, Riki, he's worried about you” he said and I smiled. “Don't worry” “I know a fake smile when I see it” he said and I chuckled. I really did feel bad for him.

“y/n! Was he good?” I heard as I saw his owner now approach us. “Yeah… the best,” I hesitated not knowing what to say and she grinned. “Oh great! Thank you again so much. It must've been hard with Riki” she said and I shook my head… 

She said her goodbyes and I went off to where Seonghwa and Wonyoung were talking to Riki.

“y/n!” He said almost weary… “How was class?” I asked and he sighed… “Boring as always,” he said and an awkward silence took over.

“The driver will take you back home. I’m gonna have another dinner.” I said as I was texting Chenle inviting him as a thank you. 

“Oh… can I go?” He asked softly. He looked at me expectantly and I shook my head. “I doubt you’d like it. The driver will be here soon, okay?” I said as he nodded. 

He looked disappointed… 

I know I told him I was leaving. I should’ve… but I looked back to where he was. Seonghwa and Wonyoung trying to talk to him. 

He had a tight grip on his tail as he looked down. Did I upset him? I didn’t want to… but how was I supposed to feel?

niki’s perspective

“It’s just dinner with Chenle and I think his friends. Don’t worry, there won’t be alcohol” Wonyoung explained and I couldn’t help but feel upset.

“What did I do wrong?” I muttered and they sighed. “Did you notice she forgot her phone yesterday?” Seonghwa asked and I nodded my head… I assumed she did since she didn’t pick up her phone but I wouldn’t have heard it in the apartment either way, she always left it on vibrate.

“She was gonna go get it and she heard what your true opinion of her was,” he said and I was confused.

“Riki, you think she’ll abandon you one day,” Wonyoung said and I shook my head “I didn’t mean it like that… is that what she thinks?!” I said now I panicked. They instead sighed and stayed silent. 

The slick black car now in my view… 

“You know how she is. She’s sensitive… and what you said destroyed her mood yesterday. All she did was drink champagne and wine. She didn’t even talk to anyone…” Wonyoung said and I felt guilty.

“But I didn’t mean it that way. I- what else did she hear?! I swear what I said shouldn’t have made her hate me” I said and they shook their heads.

“She can’t hate you… she cares about you too much,” Seonghwa said and I was confused. What I said… Did she hear my whole conversation? I didn’t say anything to make her upset with me… right? When would she let me explain myself… she’ll be stuck in her head and be an overthinker like always.

I didn’t think badly of her… even that hawk can testify. 

y/n’s perspective

“You didn’t have to, you know?” Chenle said and I offered him a smile. “You didn’t have to take care of me, so thank you,” I said and he chuckled. “It was nice of you to invite Jisung with us,” he said as Jisung smiled awkwardly. 

“She’s a lot nicer than her” I heard Jisung mutter and I laughed. I knew about who they were talking about. Chenle’s childhood best friend was currently studying abroad in China. She’s also the daughter of the principal. 

“Can I ask why you were so upset?” Chenle asked to which I sighed. “Just some hybrid stuff,” I said and he nodded. “How is owning such a problematic hybrid?” he asked and I chuckled. “He’s not… he’s just not made for the parties and snarky comments I get, he’s very protective of me,” I said and he nodded. “I heard he’s often picking fights,” he added and I smiled. 

“I wished he made more of an effort to befriend others,” I said and he laughed. “You’re reminding me of our friend now,” Jisung said and I laughed. 

“Though I do hope you don’t make an effort to get drunk,” Chenle said and I chuckled. “I’m sorry again… I don’t usually do that” I said and he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it… we usually take care of one of our friends when she gets drunk” he said and I nodded. 

“She never invites us to eat like this though,” Jisung said with a mouth full of rice. “I'm jealous… you must be really close with her” I said and they chuckled. 

“She’s like our little sister” 

I was dropped off home to the apartment where I dreaded going but I had to face it eventually. 

I went in when I smelled burned food. I also heard Japanese and assumed it was a YouTube video Riki was watching. I went deeper inside to see him frantically move around the kitchen with his AirPods and… was watching a video on how to make bungeoppang.

Our favorite and first thing we get when we go to Japan. It was followed by sudden swear words in Japanese. He turned around in frustration and looked like he was gonna smack the pan on the counter but stopped when he saw me. 

I laughed at the sight.

“I… tried making you something… but we don’t have the right flour,” he said pouting and I smiled. “We can order–” “I wanted to do something special for you!” he defended and I smiled. “Thank you,” I said and he frowned. It was awkward…

“How was your day!? I invited Chenle and Jisung for a thank you lunch…” I said with a smile hoping to just ignore my insecurity. “Horrible,” he said and I frowned. 

“You came home… drunk, you're never drunk and then I'm told because I made you cry?—” he was now pacing and ranting… I couldn’t cut him off, he needed to get everything out… “–Then you storm off without an explanation for your friends to tell me because you think that I think you’ll abandon me one day? And even now! I burned the bungeoppang!” he yelled, frustrated. 

“I don’t know what you heard… but you're misunderstanding things, stop overthinking and ask me what I think of you” he scolded and I sighed… 

“Then, what do you think of me, Riki?”

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[snzleclerc]

REGRET & LOVE (series) 🎹 1/-

previous part next part other parts

: Leonor is a portuguese girl adopted by a portuguese couple living in Monaco. her childhood was difficult, with the orphanage leaving deep scars, but some people in Monaco brought light into her life. unfortunately, not everything lasts forever. people change, and even those closest to us can drift away… even Charles.

ps: in this story, Kika is 25, just like Leonor.

* i have a taglist, just ask and I'll add you!

2015

"Life changes paths very easily, sometimes even faster than expected. Each day presents new challenges, new obstacles, new people, and new choices. Even what we believe to be forever eventually slips away, and there's no avoiding it. It's like a ray of sunshine; when it hits your eyes, you feel good, but when night falls, all that remains is to appreciate the silence and solitude."

I conclude my high school philosophy presentation with these words. The applause reverberates loudly on the school stage, as strong as I try to hold back my tears.

My journey has changed so much over the years.

"Thank you for that, Leonor. You'll definitely be in the running for the prize!" My teacher tells me as I head backstage, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

To avoid any conflict, I rush to the women's restroom. I close the door tightly behind me as I sit on the toilet seat, never having spoken about this with anyone other than my adoptive parents. Not that I've spoken about it directly, but just touching on this subject brings back the same pain I felt last year.

But my thoughts are quickly interrupted when I hear a knock on the door. Doesn't the person realize it's occupied? Anyway, I stand up, wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweater, and open the door.

I'm greeted by a girl from my class whom I've never spoken to before. She has medium brown hair, olive skin, and huge brown eyes that match her hair.

To be honest, I've never spoken to her. We've always been part of different friend groups; maybe our maximum contact was the day her pencil fell on the floor and I picked it up, that's it.

Her friends are... complicated. It seems like they always want to be seen by everyone. From a distance, you can tell she doesn't fit into that group; she's more fun, cooler.

"Hey," I say to her in a low tone, if I'm not mistaken her name is Francisca.

"Hi!" She greets me cheerfully as I exit the stall and head towards the sink, with her by my side. "I saw you running out of the presentation, which was really good by the way!"

I'm happy with her comment; it was honest, sincere.

"And well, you seemed upset, so I came to check on you! How are you?" She asks with her big chocolate eyes looking at me with curiosity, but concern.

"I'm fine, just a little nervous after the presentation." I try to disguise it with a laugh, but it seems to only make it worse.

"I know you're not okay. Come with me, let's go to the cafeteria, and if you want, you can vent." Without hesitation, the brunette pulls me through the school hallways towards the mentioned place.

We sit in the empty cafeteria at a table in the corner and stare at each other for a while to see who speaks first.

She rests her chin on her hands and starts. "I guess I better say something, right?" She looks at me, and we laugh together. "You know that group of friends of mine, right? Well, in the last few days, they've been, well—" She pauses to take a deep breath, and I already know what happened. "Recently, they've been sidelining me; it seems like nothing I do pleases them. I just wish I knew why all of this..."

"Look, it's hard, I've felt that way too..." I start, trying to comfort her. "Last year, my best friend did something terrible to me. It feels like everything started going wrong from that day on, and I've never felt so alone. Despite the sadness, I try to move on. I know crying doesn't solve anything, but it's just a way for me to express myself, and I understand you." I look at her with a reassuring look; this situation isn't easy.

"Well, then, we're both screwed," she says, and I let out the first genuine laugh of the day. She's not wrong. "When you feel like talking about him, you tell me, okay? Let's forget what hurt us together. Next year, we'll go to college and become real adults; it's time for us to forget."

But, oh, Charles, you're unforgettable.

[eternity-111]

The best punishment for you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅It's always you who makes his life a little bit more harder. always on his room and disturb him while practicing a spell. Now he will make you hard to even walk. (AFAB x Dom Solomon)

NSFW! minors scroll down ⊹

rough sex, bruises mentioned, beg/whine/tears

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reblogs, likes are appreciated! If you see any grammar mistakes, feel free to tell me <3

Mc is such a brat! Always nagging on Solomon, she would simply take one or two herbs that Solomon needs to make a curse or potions. And sometimes she would even hide it somewhere just to see his reaction. Ugh! a bad girl needs to be put in her place.

Today, just like always she would come around to visit Solomon and he knew for sure that she would tease him. sometimes he wonders why he doesn't just fuck her so she learn her lesson.

"I bought some apples for a curse I want to try, please don't eat them," Solomon warned you because he knew for sure that you would do something to those apples.

"yeah alright, I won't!" you replied to Solomon while rolling your eyes to the side, even snickering at him.

"I can make you a meal if you want, just don't eat them okay?" offering with a smile at you.

yeah no... you would rather be dead than eat his food. although he is kind enough to offer you just can't risk it.

He had left the room before you could even reply to him, how is he so fast?..and isn't that sort of rude?... While observing the room to see what kind of prank you can pull off, you can't stop but look at the apples he specifically told you not to eat. But.. it looks so delicious! It's like.. those apples want you to eat them, are they challenging you?.. Whatever, a few won't hurt right?

You ate 2 of them now and were about to grab another one but suddenly, at a rapid speed, a hand appeared! Holding you tight. The action was so quick too! how could somebody possibly do that?

"What did I say? you really need a punishment." it's Solomon! what are you gonna do now? he definitely saw you eating his apples but I'm sure his punishment is not that bad right? maybe a little lecture or something?

And before you knew it, you are now on his bed. Your back was facing his stomach, Both of your hands was pinned against his bed by his hand, and the other was holding your cheeks. You knew you were in big trouble, breathing heavily because you are nervous and he could sense that.

He keeps asking you questions and sometimes you can't help but lie. And every time you lie, he slaps your ass. it's like he knew it. And every time he did it, you can't help but let a soft moan. how did you get turned on by this..?

"Alright. You really need a punishment."

And the punishment..? Well. He fucked you relentlessly. Gosh, his dick was so huge for a human you wonder if he is really a human. oh! your whining because you can't take it anymore? He fucked you faster and faster until you cry out loud, even stuttering his name but.. too bad he could care less. Tears and mascara were running down your face and you are a total mess.

Every time you are close, he would simply stop doing anything. Watching you beg him to fuck you again but he wouldn't.. aw :( how sad. And if you try to take matters into your own hands by pleasure yourself, he would simply pin your hands above you, leaving some little bruises on your hand because of how strong he is. So you can't do anything but beg and whine at him.

He flipped you over and now you are facing face to face but of course, he's on top of you. The view is really hot so you can't complain. His white hair was messy and his shirt was nowhere to be found. You wish you could touch him, feeling his hot body and maybe kiss him all over but he is still, pinning you down to the bed. that's unfortunate.

"Be a good girl and I'll let you go." He was taunting you. Looking directly into your eyes.

"i-i am a good girl! please! just fuck me!"This is torture! But he likes seeing this state of you.

"Good." saying that before kissing you. Fuck his lips are so soft! So soft that you don't want to let go. And while he was kissing you, he push his cock inside. As a response, your cunt tightens. That was not on purpose! he did that so suddenly :(

"so tight.. you really want me hm?" whispering next to your ear. It sends chills down your spine. His breath was sort of warm and his voice.. Really soft but good enough to turn you on. Are you really that easy to get turned on or is it because he's just hot?

A few minutes later, You go back begging him to go slower but he won't. Instead of slowing down, he Sucked on your nipple and gently plays with the other one, making your back arch and your eyes rolled.

"i-im close.. please let m-me this time! I'll be a g-good I promise..!"

"do it for me, darling," he demanded. and the next thing you knew, you were making a mess on his bed. Moaning his name while you came as your legs shake from the pleasure. His eyes widened by the view, you look so fucking cute when you moan his name while coming! He gently brushed your hair from your face and then proceeded to kiss your lips and your cheeks.

"Good girl, but be ready because this is just the start." kissing your stomach as he told you that. Gosh, why didn't he say it earlier?! You could at least be prepared..I wonder if you can even walk tomorrow! I mean...a bad girl needs to learn her lessons anyway.

[hookhausenschips]

Tangled In My Soul {JB22}

500 Follower Special!!!

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Summary: Y/N struggled with feelings of loneliness and public scrutiny while waiting for Jenson, but during their drive home, he reassured her of his love and commitment. They spent the evening reconnecting emotionally and physically, finding solace and happiness in each other's presence.

Taglist

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Y/N was sitting in the car park outside of the Sky Studios where Jenson had been working all week when he got out of the building and walked towards the car. He had been gone since Monday morning and they hadn't really spoken much over the weekend, it had been hectic with him traveling up north to see his family and then having to go back down south for work again.

She could feel herself getting more and more angry every day that went past, especially since she knew he would be talking about her on the television. She didn't like hearing other people talk about her behind closed doors let alone millions of people watching her live. She knew it was something he couldn't avoid but it still hurt.

She tried not to take it personally but sometimes it was hard, she wasn't used to this kind of attention. She wasn't even sure if she wanted this kind of attention.

Jenson sat next to her and kissed her cheek before opening the door for her. They both climbed into the car and buckled up before starting their drive home. It was always so quiet during these drives.

“How did it go today?” Y/N asked breaking the silence between them.

“Fine, just another day at the office.” Jenson replied looking over at her. “How have you been?”

“I've been fine thanks. I’ve missed you.” Y/N said giving him a smile and leaning over to kiss his lips softly. He smiled back and placed his hand on top of hers.

They carried on driving in silence for a few minutes until Jenson spoke again. “I know it’s been hard this week and I’m sorry for leaving you alone for so long, we don’t get many chances to spend time together anymore.” He looked over at her again. “And I know it’s difficult to hear everyone talking about you all the time, it must be hard.”

“It’s okay Jens, you can't help it. It’s your job after all. But I do miss spending time with you.” Y/N gave him a little smile.

“I know you do. We should go somewhere nice soon, get away from everything and relax. Maybe we could even try and make some memories.” Jenson smiled back at her and turned his head to look ahead onto the road.

Y/N nodded but didn’t say anything else, she could feel her eyes starting to fill with tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of Jenson but she also felt like she needed to let it out, she was just so upset.

“Hey what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Jenson reached across the seat and placed his hand on her thigh, rubbing it gently.

Y/N sniffed trying to fight back the tears. “I-it’s nothing I’m just a bit sad that’s all.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

“Don’t cry please, it’ll only make things worse. You can tell me what’s going on, I won’t judge you.” Jenson squeezed her thigh slightly, trying to reassure her.

Y/N wiped the tears away from her face and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I’m just tired of people making fun of me all the time, saying things about us because of our age difference and that I'm only here because of who you are. It hurts me, it hurts me so much. I love you and I know you love me too but I just wish people would stop hurting me like this.”

Jenson pulled over to the side of the road and put his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Listen to me Y/N, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

“Yes, yes.” Y/N sniffed again and wiped the last remaining tears away.

“I love you more than anything else in this world, you mean everything to me. I would do anything for you. And I know what it feels like to have people say bad things about you all the time, I know how it makes you feel. So trust me when I say that those people don't matter, they are nothing compared to what we have.” Jenson stroked her hair and ran his thumb along the back of her neck. “I know it’s hard but you can't let them get to you, you have to ignore them or else they will win.”

Y/N nodded slowly, taking in everything he said. “But I just want people to like me, I want them to accept me and understand why we are together.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon Y/N, no matter what happens or what you do people will always find something to say about us. Even if we were perfect they would still find something.” Jenson kissed the top of her head and rested his chin on top of it. “So please stop worrying about what other people think about us, focus on what matters most; us.”

“But I'm scared of losing you Jens, I don’t want you to leave me.” Y/N buried her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

“Oh darling, you will never lose me. You are the most important thing in my life right now and I wouldn’t ever dream of leaving you, you mean too much to me for that.” Jenson rubbed her back soothingly. “I promise I will never leave you, you are stuck with me forever.” He laughed lightly and kissed her forehead.

Y/N lifted her head off his chest and smiled at him, “I love you Jens.”

“I love you too, my angel.” He smiled back at her and leaned forward to kiss her lips. Their lips moved against each other softly and lovingly as they enjoyed the moment. After a while they broke apart and Jenson started the engine again.

 “We should probably get going, we don’t want to be late for dinner tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.” Y/N grinned and snuggled up close to him as he started driving again.

They drove back home in silence but it wasn’t awkward this time. There was no tension between them, just pure happiness and contentment.

* * *

When they arrived back at their house they went straight through to the kitchen and started cooking dinner together. Jenson was making spaghetti bolognese while Y/N was making garlic bread. It was one of their favorite meals to cook together, they both loved Italian food and it was easy enough for either of them to make.

They chatted happily as they cooked, sharing stories about their days and laughing together. They both enjoyed spending time together like this, it was rare for them both to have free time at the same time so when they did they made the most of it.

After finishing their meal they cleaned up the dishes and then headed upstairs to their bedroom. They changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed together under the covers. They lay facing each other on opposite sides of the mattress and held hands tightly as they watched TV.

Jenson turns and looks at Y/N, his eyes memorizing every detail about the woman who has held him captivated in every waking moment since they met. Y/N looks up and blushes at the attention. "What are you staring at?" she whispered. 

Jenson smiles and reaches over to run his fingers through her hair. "My beautiful girl," he murmurs. "I am simply admiring my favorite view."

Y/N blushes deeper and leans into his touch. "Are you going to stare at me all night?" she teases.

Jenson laughs and shakes his head. "No, my dear," he replies. "There is something else I intend to do instead."

Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah? What might that be?"

Jenson grins mischievously and sits up. He moves over to sit beside her and begins to undress her. "Well," he says, "I want to show you exactly how much you mean to me."

Y/N watches as he removes her clothes, leaving her in nothing but her panties and bra. He runs his hands over her body, caressing her skin and causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She shivers with pleasure. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.

Y/N smiles and leans into his touch. "Thank you," she breathes. "You're not so bad yourself."

Jenson laughs and pulls her close, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. His tongue dances with hers, exploring every inch of her mouth. Y/N moans into his mouth, her body responding to his touch.

Jenson breaks the kiss and looks down at her, smiling. "You're absolutely stunning," he murmurs. "And I'm going to treat you like the queen that you are."

Y/N blushes and looks down, feeling shy. "Thank you," she whispers.

Jenson kisses her forehead before he began his descent below, kneeling between Y/N's spread legs. He leans down and presses his lips against her clit, flicking it with his tongue. Y/N gasps and arches her back, pushing her hips up against his mouth.

Jenson chuckles and continues licking her, using his hands to massage her breasts. Y/N moans louder, her breathing becoming ragged. "Oh god," she pants. "Jensen... fuck!"

Jenson starts sucking harder on her clit and massaging her breasts more forcefully. Y/N cries out and wraps her legs around his head, holding him against her. "I'm gonna cum," she gasps. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum!"

Jensen continues pleasuring her, his tongue working furiously as he brings her to orgasm. Y/N screams as she cums, her juices flowing freely onto his tongue.

He climbs back onto the bed and straddles Y/N, pressing his cock against her entrance. "Ready?" he asks.

Y/N nods and spreads her legs wider, inviting him inside her. Jenson pushes himself into her wet heat, groaning as he fills her completely. "Darling I don't think I'll ever get over this feeling."

Y/N gasps and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Mmm," she moans. "That feels so good."

Jenson smiles, "Yeah?' as he slowly drags his cock in and out of her tight pussy. "You're so fucking beautiful," he grunts. "You feel amazing."

He wanted to take her apart slowly. 

He wanted her to be able to remember this night forever.

He wanted to make sure that she remembered that she was his. That she belonged to him, and only him.

Tonight was about making love. Not fucking.

Jenson pushed himself in and out of Y/N's wetness, moving faster as she began to moan and writhe beneath him. He leaned down and captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as he continued thrusting into her.

"Fuck," she gasped. "You feel so good."

Jenson smiled against her lips, "Good?" He asked, before kissing her again. "I thought you were going to say something better than that."

"You're being ridiculous." Y/N pouted.

"Am I?" Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to prove it?" He asked, smirking.

"Prove it? Prove what?" Y/N frowned.

Jensen laughed, "That you're not the only one who can give you orgasms." He leaned down and sucked on her nipple, his hands gripping her hips as he continued pumping into her.

Y/N cried out, her head falling back against the pillow. "Oh god, Jens..."

"Shh," Jenson soothed, kissing her throat as he thrust harder. "Just enjoy it baby."

Y/N moaned and threw her head back, arching her back as she welcomed him inside her. "Harder!" She cried. "Please!"

Jenson complied, pounding into her with renewed vigor. He could feel her walls clenching around his cock, squeezing him tightly. "That's it, baby..." He growled. "Take it all!"

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. Y/N moaned into his mouth as he began thrusting into her harder and faster. He gripped her hips tightly and pounded into her relentlessly, his balls slapping against her ass.

Y/N cried out as the pressure built inside her, her walls contracting around his shaft. She came hard, screaming his name as her juices flowed out onto his cock. Jenson groaned and continued thrusting into her, drawing out her orgasm. Jenson slowed his pace, allowing her to recover before finally pulling out of her.

Finally, he released her hips and collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. Y/N lay beside him, trembling and covered in sweat. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as they recovered from their intense session.

"Wow," Y/N said, finally able to speak again. "That was incredible."

Jensen chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, "but we're not done yet." He rolled over and pinned her to the bed, looking down at her hungrily.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, surprised.

Jensen grinned, "I mean that I'm not finished with you yet. I plan on showing you all night just how much I love you." He lowered his head and kissed her collarbone, then trailed his tongue down her stomach. He paused to nip at her navel before continuing further down.

Y/N gasped as his mouth found its way to her core. His tongue flicked over her clit, sending delicious waves of pleasure through her body. She arched her back, pushing herself against his mouth.

Jensen chuckled against her skin and continued eating her out, alternating between licking and sucking her clit. He slid a finger inside her, pumping it in and out slowly as he worked on bringing her to climax.

Y/N moaned and writhed beneath him, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. "Oh god..." She whimpered. "Don't stop... please don't stop!"

Jensen chuckled again, "As if I would ever stop," he murmured against her skin. He added another finger, scissoring them inside her as he licked her clit faster and harder.

Y/N screamed as she came, her walls contracting tightly around his fingers. Jenson groaned and continued pleasuring her, drawing out her orgasm as he brought her to climax once again.

Finally, he removed his fingers and crawled up her body, positioning himself above her. "Now," he said, "let's finish what we started earlier." He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. Jenson smiled against her lips and began thrusting into her again.

"My darling, you will never be unloved by me. You are too well tangled with my soul." Jenson said as he slowly thrusted in and out  of Y/N, looking down at her with adoration. "You are my sunflower."

Y/N smiled at him, "And you are mine," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Jensen smiled against her lips, "Of course I am," he murmured, "I'll always be yours."

They kissed passionately for several minutes before breaking apart to catch their breath. Y/N smiled up at him, "I love you so much, Jens."

Jenson smiled back at her, "And I love you more than anything, my darling." He leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time.

Y/N sighed contentedly, "That was amazing." She murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

Jenson chuckled, "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, "but we're not done yet." He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. Jenson smiled against her lips and began thrusting into her again, picking up where they left off.

They fucked for hours, pausing only to catch their breath before resuming their passionate lovemaking. Finally, they collapsed onto the bed, exhausted but satisfied. Jenson wrapped his arms around Y/N and held her close, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"I love you," he whispered. "More than anything in the world."

Y/N smiled up at him, "And I love you too," she murmured, "more than words can express."

Jenson smiled back at her, "Goodnight, my darling." He whispered. "Sleep tight."

Y/N yawned sleepily and snuggled up against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. "Goodnight," she murmured. "Sweet dreams."

Jenson chuckled and kissed her forehead, "Sweet dreams indeed," he whispered. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of their perfect future together.

* * *

Bonus; Y/N woke up the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. She stretched languidly, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

She glanced over at Jenson, who was still asleep beside her. She smiled and leaned over to kiss him gently on the cheek.

Jenson stirred and opened his eyes, smiling at her. "Good morning," he said sleepily.

Y/N snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful moment. "Good morning," she whispered back. "Did you sleep well?"

Jenson nodded, wrapping his arm around her. "Yeah, I did. How about you?"

"Perfectly," she replied, resting her head on his chest. "I love waking up next to you."

He kissed the top of her head. "Me too."

The two of them lay there for a few more minutes, enjoying the tranquility before the day fully began. Eventually, Y/N sighed and sat up, looking down at Jenson with a playful grin. "What do you want for breakfast?"

Jenson chuckled. "Surprise me."

Y/N got out of bed and padded to the kitchen, her mind buzzing with possibilities. She decided to make pancakes, knowing they were one of Jenson's favorites. As she whisked the batter, she hummed softly, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn't felt in a long time.

Jenson joined her a little while later, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Smells amazing," he murmured into her ear.

She turned her head to kiss him on the cheek. "Almost ready. Can you set the table?"

"Of course," he replied, grabbing the plates and cutlery.

They worked together seamlessly, the kitchen filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of dishes. As they sat down to eat, Y/N felt a surge of happiness, grateful for the simple yet perfect moments like these.

After breakfast, they decided to take a walk in the park. The fresh air and the vibrant colors of spring invigorated them. They held hands, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company.

When they returned home, Jenson pulled Y/N close and looked into her eyes. "I don't know what the future holds," he said softly, "but as long as we're together, I know it'll be amazing."

Y/N's heart swelled with love. "I feel the same way," she said, kissing him deeply. "Here's to many more mornings like this."

==================================

JB22 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @miarabanana

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

[nekropsii]

what do you see in equius ?? genuine question i don't mean to sound rude but to me she's just really offputting. she gives me such creep vibes that i can't seem to get over and every time i read a page with her it just gets worse..... like when i first read nep & eq's chats i was sitting there wondering if this was outright abuse or at least bullying of some kind??? it felt like it idk.......

but honestly i do wanna see an equius liker's opinion on him because i can't understand it like at all and i'm probably just missing something that all the equius likers saw and i didnt LMAO

Well, considering I’m an Alpha Trolls Enthusiast and have been for, like, a decade, as well as having Horror as a Special Interest since age… What, 3? I’d say I personally have a pretty strong stomach for Weird and Offputting in fiction, lol. Stronger than most. Equius isn’t a very palatable character at all, I’ll be the first to admit that - a lot of the characters I enjoy the most in Homestuck aren’t very palatable… But I find ‘em real interesting, personally. The fact that they aren’t palatable adds to the intrigue for me, and poor execution tends to be a total weakness of mine. Again, Alpha Trolls Enthusiast for a decade straight.

I have a post here that talks a bit about my reading of Equius, I’d recommend giving it a read. I see Eridan and Equius as being very similar characters - not necessarily due to their shared hemoloyalty, but because they’re both teens falling down online pipelines. They’re very prevalent Kinds Of Guy that no one wants to talk about.

But people talk about Eridan plenty even to this day - he was even a fandom favorite for a while, being the fandom’s first Prettyboy Sad Gay Anime Prince long before Dirk… So he doesn’t reel in as much interest for me as the chronically overlooked Equius.

If there’s anything to know about me, it’s that I love a good underdog.

Equius-Likers, from my experience, are very aware of his issues. It’s part of the draw. Enjoyment of him tends to be an analytical fixation. I haven’t met a single Equius-Liker that hasn’t had some very complex thoughts on him. They’re just kinda quiet about it. Fitting.

Unfortunately, I’m Aranea But Real, so. No quietness here.

Your response to Equius is valid. It’s also intended, I feel. To specifically address the bits about concerns of his relationship with Nepeta not being healthy… I mean, it’s not abusive, but it’s definitely more complicated than fan art would lead you to believe, as always. “Complicated” is to be expected from a Moirallegiance - remember what they exist for?

Nepeta is very much so in control of the things going on, and their relationship is pretty equal, all things considered, so I wouldn’t be worrying too much about that. She very distinctly does not lack agency here - Nepeta is the one who has a leash on Equius, not the other way around. Equius is mean, because that’s the way she is to… Everyone, more or less, but she’s not of any danger to Nepeta. They have a fine Moirallegiance. 1,000% more functional than whatever the fuck Karkat and Gamzee had going on.

Anyway. I think Equius is neat, and has both missed and oft overlooked potential. One of the very few characters I’d be 100% down to have seen more content of in the comic.

Once again, check out this post. I still think it’s decent. Maybe you will, too.

[phasesofpencils]

Yeah no Blitz is fully within his right to be pissed off about that "confession".

Blitz literally has no reason to believe that their relationship was anything other than transactional, their last meaningful interaction together was Ozzie's and we ALL know how that went. Even the episode directly before that Stolas is still calling Blitz his "impish little play thing". Blitz's argument that Stolas is "Springing this feelings bullshit on him" is completely justified because Stolas's feelings really do kinda feel like they spring up out of no where during the Ozzie's episode.

And plus we have been getting force fed Stolas's pity party about his horrible marriage, how he's loved Blitz since he was a kid [which A) always felt weird/unnecessary and like they were just blatantly trying to retcon his intentions and B) arguably might have even made it worse cus even back then Blitz didn't have a choice in it], how he now sees how wrong the deal is and how bad he feels and oh he loves him so much. But even if you see all that and sympathize with Stolas for it, BLITZ NEVER SAW THAT DEVELOPMENT!!!

Blitz only ever saw Stolas talking down to him by calling him shit like "itty bitty imp" and "impish little plaything", not taking him seriously when he tries to set boundaries with him and completely ignore every single request he makes to not come onto him in public and not humiliate him in front of everyone from strangers to Stolas's own fucking daughter.

THEIR WHOLE DEAL WAS ABOUT SEX AND NOW STOLAS IS GETTING ANNOYED WITH BLITZ FOR "ALWAYS MAKING IT ABOUT SEX"????? MY BROTHER IN HELL YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS FOR THE FUCKING DEAL!!! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE IT ABOUT SEX TO BEGIN WITH!!!!! You were literally just bemoaning how wrong and unfair the deal was, earlier that same episode you asked "if he's only here as a prisoner what kind of MONSTER does that make me?" but now that Blitz is calling you out on it suddenly it's "i didn't realise you thought so low of me😢" you have never given him a reason to think any higher of you. You say you "think so highly of him" and how you don't care about social status but everything you've down towards Blitz so far has shown otherwise. Even literally dismissing him like Blitz accused him of doing by throwing him out for the crime of making him upset. Stolas didn't deserve that Sorry Blitz was gonna give him anyway.

I can already tell that watching reactions to this episode is gonna he so frustrating, so many reaction channels i watch have been so deep in the Stolas UwU Soft Boi propaganda the season has been giving us so far and already get pissed off at Blitz for the crime of making Stolas sad. I'm at least glad for Sarcastic Chorus cus even tho he ships it he can still think critically enough about it to not just blindly coddle Stolas.