Tumgik
#all the way through the game if that makes sense
ikeucity · 2 days
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jealous of jennie.
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pairing. bestfriends brother!jay x reader
warning. this story contains sexual content (18+), explicit language, jealousy, and miscommunication. mild angst, fluff, and humor, as well as awkward tension. lighthearted themes of slight degradation/humiliation and insecurity are present, along with consensual smut. mdni.
wc. 33.7k
── .✦⸝⸝ masterlist
jay’s been crushing on you for as long as he can remember, but he’s always been too shy to do anything about it. just when you finally start realizing how interested in him you are, he suddenly starts seeing someone else, and you're not sure you like it. jealousy creeps in, leaving you questioning your feelings—until you stumble upon one of jay's secrets, a “jennie” that changes everything.
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and is not intended to portray real events or real people. the use of the name "jennie" has no connection to jennie of blackpink, nor is there any intent to sexualize her. any resemblance is purely coincidental. this also does not represent the real members of enhypen in any way. please don’t make it weird.
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"so you're telling me, you thought making yeonjun jealous was gonna save your relationship?" you say, staring at hanna like you're trying to knock some sense into her. you emphasize each word, hoping it'll spark at least some shred of doubt about her terrible decision.
she's just sitting there, swirling her juice, while you pick a grape from the fruit bowl between you both at the kitchen island. and here she was, your best friend, diving headfirst into another trainwreck, as if you hadn't been through this with her a dozen times before.
"i mean, you don't think he'll care? you know him," she mumbles, eyes glued to the counter.
you let out a sigh. "oh, he'll care alright. but not in the way you're hoping."
hanna’s fingers fidget with the glass in front of her, the condensation dripping down her wrist. she avoids your gaze, chewing on her lip like she’s debating whether to defend her ridiculous plan or just give in.
typical. you can’t help but shake your head, taking another grape and popping it into your mouth.
"look, you’ve pulled some wild shit before, but this… this is different. yeonjun isn’t the type to play games, and you know that. jealousy’s not gonna make him come crawling back, it’s just gonna piss him off."
her shoulders slump, a little defeat sinking in. “i just… i don’t know what else to do. he’s been so distant lately, like i’m not even there. it’s like… he’s already checked out, and i’m just waiting for the final nail in the coffin.”
you roll your eyes but soften your tone. "hanna, if he’s acting distant, trying to push his buttons isn’t gonna bring him closer. you gotta talk to him, be honest, not… whatever this is."
she finally looks up at you, eyes a little glassy. "what if he doesn’t care anymore? what if i’m the only one still trying?"
that hit deeper than you expected. you lean back, exhaling slowly, thinking of all the times you’ve seen her chasing after something that was already slipping through her fingers. “then maybe… maybe it’s time to let it go, hann. if he’s checked out, then why keep pushing?”
silence lingers between you two for a second, the sound of the clock ticking in the background louder than it should be. hanna brushes her hair behind her ear, voice small. "i just don’t want to lose him."
you sigh, reaching out to rest your hand on hers. "i know. but sometimes, losing someone is better than losing yourself trying to hold onto something that's already gone."
hanna’s lips quiver like she’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. she just nods, the weight of your words sinking in. for once, she looks like she might actually listen.
"besides," you smirk, trying to lighten the mood, "you can always make him jealous when you’re happy and moved on. that’ll hurt way more than this petty shit."
she lets out a small laugh, wiping her eyes. "yeah, maybe."
"there you go, thinking with your brain again. it looks good on you." you give her a playful nudge, grabbing another grape and tossing it into her lap.
“oh, shut up,” she laughs, finally sounding like herself again.
but even as she smiles, you know the weight of her situation isn’t going away anytime soon. you can only hope she’s strong enough to face it head-on this time.
just as the conversation settles into a more comfortable silence, the front door creaks open, and you glance over to see jay shuffling in. he’s back from classes, hoodie pulled over his head, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.
his eyes dart to you immediately, widening slightly before he looks down at his shoes like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.
"oh, hey… didn’t know you were here," he mutters, voice barely above a mumble. his cheeks flush pink, and he scratches the back of his neck in that awkward way he always does around you.
he might’ve been quiet and a bit of a loser, but damn if he wasn’t hot, like someone ripped out of a movie. you’ve known him for years—ever since he was that scrawny kid who always hung around his sister, but now, he’s filled out, tall, lean… though he still can’t seem to act normal around you.
"hey, jay," you greet casually, tossing him a quick smile. you can practically see the gears in his head stuttering, like he’s not sure what to say next.
he clears his throat, adjusting the strap of his backpack. "uh, did you guys… were you talking about something important? i don’t want to interrupt or anything."
hanna rolls her eyes at him, giving him a look that says, 'you always interrupt.' she turns back to you and lowers her voice dramatically, like she’s giving away some huge secret. "don’t mind him. he’s just here to stare at you for a bit."
"what?!" jay’s face turns a deeper shade of red, his eyes widening in panic. "hanna, shut up!" he shoots her a death glare, but she just smirks, completely unbothered.
you laugh, trying to ease his obvious discomfort. "nah, we were just talking about how your sister has terrible relationship advice."
jay shuffles awkwardly, clearly not sure how to respond, and hanna snorts. "yeah, don’t get her started on that," she adds with a teasing tone, "she’ll lecture you for hours."
"i do not lecture," you defend yourself, leaning back on your chair. "i just give good advice to people who clearly need it."
jay chuckles softly, still not quite meeting your eyes. "well, i’m sure your advice is better than hanna’s." he sneaks a quick glance at you, and you catch his gaze for a second, noticing how his eyes linger a little too long before darting away again.
it’s kinda cute, actually, the way he gets all flustered around you. he might not be outgoing like his sister, but there was something about the way he awkwardly stumbled over his words that made it obvious he was into you, even if he didn’t have the guts to say it.
"so, uh, i should probably… go study or something," jay mumbles, backing up slowly toward the hallway. he glances at you one more time, the corner of his lip twitching like he wants to say something but can’t find the words.
"good luck with that," you say with a playful grin, watching him fumble to leave.
"yeah, thanks," he mutters, practically tripping over his own feet before disappearing down the hall, leaving you and hanna alone again.
once he’s out of earshot, hanna bursts into laughter. "god, he’s so obvious. i swear he’s had the biggest crush on you since, like, forever."
you smirk, picking up another grape. "yeah, i noticed."
"hanna," you start, popping another grape in your mouth, eyes glinting with amusement, "would it be so weird if i actually hooked up with him?"
her jaw drops, and she gapes at you like you just suggested the most forbidden thing in the world.
"are you serious? jay? my little brother jay?" she whispers, half laughing, half in shock, but there's a glimmer in her eye like she's trying to picture it.
"what? he's hot. awkward as hell, but still… hot." you shrug, completely unfazed by her reaction. you could see it now—the way jay would probably blush like crazy, fumbling around nervously, but you didn’t mind.
something about it was kind of endearing.
hanna raises an eyebrow, leaning forward with a smirk. "okay, but can you imagine how flustered he’d be? he can barely look you in the eye without turning into a tomato."
"exactly. it’d be cute," you tease, a wicked grin spreading across your face. "i mean, he’s been crushing on me forever, right? might as well make his day."
"you're insane," she laughs, shaking her head, but you can tell she’s not actually against the idea. "i can’t believe we're even having this conversation. he’d probably pass out if you even kissed him."
you laugh, thinking about how jay would probably freeze up, all wide-eyed and nervous. "maybe, but i bet he’d be fun to mess with. who knows? he might surprise us."
"ugh, you’re terrible." hanna rolls her eyes but can’t help grinning. "but honestly? if anyone’s gonna break him out of his awkward phase, it might as well be you."
"exactly," you say, giving her a knowing look. "besides, if you’re out here making bad decisions with yeonjun, why can’t i make one with jay?"
hanna groans, burying her face in her hands. "oh my god, this is so messed up."
you chuckle, tossing another grape at her. "don’t act like you haven’t thought about it. he’s been staring at me like a lost puppy for years."
she peeks up from her hands, a mischievous look in her eyes now. "alright, fine. but if you actually do it, you better tell me everything. i’m not missing out on that gossip."
"hanna, you don’t find that weird?" you raise an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "you’re telling me you wanna know how he'll potentially fuck me? your brother?"
she snorts, completely unfazed, shrugging like it’s no big deal. "i mean, yeah, why not? i already know he’s got a crush on you, and if you’re actually gonna do it, i might as well get the details." her eyes glint with that mischievous spark again, like she’s enjoying this way too much.
you lean back in your chair, still staring at her in disbelief. "that’s some messed up shit, hanna."
she laughs, shaking her head. "okay, maybe it is, but c’mon. he’s a grown-ass man, you’re a grown-ass woman. if you hook up, it’s not like i’m gonna pretend it never happened. besides, think of it like… research. you can tell me if he’s as awkward in bed as he is in life."
"oh my god," you groan, rubbing your temples like you can’t believe you’re even having this conversation.
hanna just grins, leaning on the counter. "look, if anyone’s gonna handle jay, it’s gotta be someone i trust, right?"
"yeah, ‘cause nothing says trust like spilling the details of how your brother fucks," you mutter, but the smirk creeping onto your face betrays you. "fine. if, and i mean if it happens, maybe i’ll let you in on the tea."
hanna claps her hands together, clearly way too excited for this. "oh, i’m holding you to that. don’t chicken out now."
you roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself. "you’re unbelievable."
"so are you, thinking about banging my brother," she shoots back with a wink.
"touché." you chuckle while running your hands through your hair, the thought of actually doing something with jay making your stomach flip.
there’s a part of you that’s curious, but it’s also so damn messy. “what if he takes it too seriously? or what if it’s just fucking awkward?”
hanna leans back, crossing her arms, watching you spiral. "look, it’s not like you’re making a marriage proposal. it’s just a hookup, if it even happens. jay’s awkward, sure, but i doubt he’d make it weird."
you sigh, feeling the weight of all the shit you’ve been dealing with pile onto this already bizarre situation. "i just… i don’t know, hanna. it’s been a rough few months. i feel like everything’s been dry as hell lately."
hanna raises an eyebrow. "you mean, like… with sunghoon?"
you groan, covering your face with your hands. "don’t get me started. that whole situation was a shitshow."
"okay, spill. what went down?"
you take a deep breath, staring at the ceiling for a moment before finally letting it out. "it was just… boring. like, no spark, no nothing. we were together for months, and I swear, it was like he was just going through the motions. half the time I couldn’t even tell if he was interested."
"huh," hanna nods, thoughtful for a second. "so you broke up with him?"
"yeah, finally. i couldn’t take it anymore. it felt like i was dating a brick wall. no passion, no fire, and don’t even get me started on the sex. dry as fuck." you scoff, leaning back against your chair.
"i tried, hanna. i really did. but how can you stay with someone who makes you feel like you’re invisible half the time?"
"honey, you deserve way better than that," she says, her voice softer now. "it’s not your fault that sunghoon couldn’t keep up. maybe you just need… you know, someone who actually wants you."
"someone like jay?" you joke, half-heartedly, but there’s a flicker of something in your chest when you say it.
hanna smirks, not missing a beat. "hey, i'm not the one who said it, but now that you mention it… he might just be what you need. awkward as hell, sure, but he’s been into you forever, and at least you’d know he’s trying."
"ugh, i’m just tired of all this shit. the dating, the breakups, the dead-end relationships. it’s exhausting."
she nods, giving you a sympathetic look. "i get it. but maybe it’s time to stop worrying about all that serious shit and just have fun. if it’s jay or someone else, who cares? do what makes you happy for once."
you stare at her, taking in her words, feeling the weight of it all slowly lifting off your shoulders. maybe she’s right. maybe it’s time to stop overthinking everything and just do something for yourself.
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it’s been months since that conversation with hanna, and somehow, you never followed through with it. maybe it was just something you thought about when you were in a dry spell, coming off a shitty relationship with sunghoon. at the time, jay seemed like the sweetest option, the safest—someone who wouldn’t complicate things. and hanna? she was fine with it, encouraging, actually.
but still, nothing happened. you chalked it up to a moment of weakness. yeah, jay was hot, awkward as hell, but hot.
it was like a loser got trapped in a really good-looking guy's body, the kind of guy who was too shy to realize how much he had going for him. but maybe that’s why you never pushed it—it wasn’t serious. just a fleeting thought after all the mess you went through with sunghoon.
yet, recently, something’s been gnawing at you. hanna’s been casually mentioning that jay’s been seeing someone, dropping it in conversations with that teasing smirk she always has. and, well… it piqued your interest. way more than it should have.
you try to tell yourself it’s nothing.
'good for him,' you say, like you mean it, but deep down, there’s this weird feeling, like something’s off. it’s not jealousy, not really. it’s more like curiosity… or maybe even a bit of possessiveness. after all, you’d been his little crush for years. it was kind of flattering in its own way, knowing he was always there.
"so, jay’s seeing someone, huh?" you finally ask hanna one afternoon, trying to sound casual as you lean back against the couch.
hanna glances at you with that all-knowing look, already sensing something beneath your tone. "yup. can you believe it? he’s finally getting out there. i was shocked at first, but i guess he’s growing up."
"yeah, he’s definitely grown," you mutter, thinking about how much he’s changed in the last few years.
hanna smirks, clearly not missing your choice of words. "what’s that tone? you jealous or something?"
"jealous?" you scoff, but it feels a little forced. "no, just… surprised. i mean, it’s jay. he’s never really dated, right?"
"he hasn’t. but people grow up, y’know? he’s not the awkward little kid anymore, even though he still kinda acts like it," she says, grabbing her phone and scrolling absentmindedly. "he’s been going out with this girl for a few weeks now. cute, right?"
you shrug, trying to play it off, but you can’t help the little sting of annoyance. weeks? that long, and you had no clue?
"yeah, sure. cute," you mutter, glancing away. but your mind’s already spinning, wondering what kind of girl has caught his attention.
hanna raises an eyebrow, catching the subtle shift in your tone. "why? you miss him or something?" she teases, smirking over her phone.
"no," you snap a little too quickly, then clear your throat, trying to act unbothered. "just curious, that's all. haven’t seen him around here in a while."
she laughs, shaking her head. "wow, you really do miss him. he used to be around all the time, and now you're noticing when he's gone." she sets her phone down, looking way too amused by this. "admit it—you’re lowkey jealous."
"i’m not jealous," you huff, crossing your arms defensively. "i just didn’t think he’d be the type to dive into a relationship, that’s all."
"oh, so now you’re judging his love life?" hanna grins, leaning in closer, clearly enjoying this. "look, it’s not like they’re serious or anything, but yeah, he’s been busy. getting out there. i thought you’d be happy for him."
"i am," you say, but it sounds half-hearted, even to your own ears. "it’s just weird, that’s all."
hanna watches you for a second, her smirk softening. "oh my god," she says, suddenly realizing. "you had your chance, didn’t you? back when we talked about it months ago, but you didn’t follow through, and now you’re regretting it."
"what? no!" you protest, but the way she’s looking at you makes you feel like you’ve been caught.
"yeah, you are," she presses, laughing softly. "you thought about it back then, and now you’re wondering if you should’ve just gone for it."
you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.
maybe she’s right, just a little. maybe part of you did think jay would always be there, orbiting around, waiting. now that someone else has his attention, it feels different. unsettling.
just then, jay comes stumbling in, looking flustered as hell. his hair’s a mess, cheeks flushed, and he’s wearing clothes that clearly scream date night—button-up shirt slightly wrinkled, dark jeans that fit a little too well, like he actually put thought into the whole thing. the sight of him in that state makes your heart do a weird little flip, but you force yourself to stay cool, act like it’s no big deal.
jay looks at both of you, eyes wide, clearly shocked to find you there, but he lets out a breathless, "hey," like he’s trying to play it off. you catch the faint tremble in his voice, though, and it makes you smirk internally. he’s so damn awkward, it’s almost adorable.
"hmm, hey," hanna says, immediately zeroing in on his disheveled appearance. she crosses her arms, her lips curling into a grin. "where you been, jay? out on a date?"
jay freezes for a split second, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "w-what? no, i wasn’t… i mean, i just—i was hanging out with some friends."
you can’t help but snicker at how awful he is at lying, and jay shoots you a quick glance before looking down, his cheeks growing redder. "friends, huh?" you say casually, trying to hide the amusement in your voice. "didn’t know your friends wore that much perfume."
his face flushes deeper, and hanna’s on him in a second, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "wait a second…" she leans in, sniffing the air dramatically. "oh my god, you’re actually wearing perfume. like, something a girl would wear." her grin gets even wider. "jay, did you steal her perfume or what?"
"no!" he stammers, taking a step back, clearly overwhelmed by the interrogation. "i didn’t—i mean, i wasn’t stealing anything. i just—i don’t know, maybe i hugged her or something, okay? it’s not a big deal."
the way he says her makes your stomach tighten, but you shove it down, refusing to let it show. instead, you raise an eyebrow, giving him a nonchalant look. "so there is a girl, huh?"
jay looks like he’s about to combust on the spot, his words stumbling over each other as he tries to defend himself. "i… it’s not like… yeah, i’ve been seeing someone, but it’s not serious, okay? we’re just hanging out. nothing crazy."
"hanging out," hanna echoes, clearly enjoying every second of this. "is that what we’re calling dates now? ‘cause, bro, you look like you just came back from date night."
jay groans, running a hand through his messy hair, clearly desperate to escape the conversation. "look, can we just not do this right now? i’m gonna go to my room." and with that, he rushes past, practically bolting toward the hallway.
but not before you catch it. the scent. that sweet, floral perfume lingering on him. it’s subtle but unmistakable—definitely something a girl would wear, and something that would drive any guy crazy. you can’t help but feel a strange knot form in your chest as you watch him disappear into his room.
"huh," hanna says, leaning back on the couch with a satisfied grin. "he’s really getting out there. good for him."
"yeah," you mutter, trying to act unaffected, but the perfume, the thought of him with someone else—it’s still swirling in your head. "good for him."
you sit there, staring at the spot where jay had been just seconds ago, the scent of that damn perfume still hanging in the air like some ghost that won’t leave. hanna’s sitting back, satisfied with her little interrogation, but you can’t help the weird pit forming in your stomach.
you try to shake it off, acting like none of this bothers you, but it does. way more than it should.
you stayed over at hanna’s that night, and the tension from earlier stuck with you like a bad itch. jay never left his room, not once, which only made your curiosity gnaw at you even more.
what the hell was going on with him? who was this girl? you tried to push it out of your mind, but it clung to you, especially with the scent of that perfume still lingering in your thoughts.
you and hanna were playing mario kart, both of you on the couch. or rather, you were playing, while she kept glancing at her phone, clearly distracted by a stream of notifications from yeonjun. every time her phone buzzed, she'd snicker or blush, completely zoning out from the game.
"yo, if you’re just gonna text yeonjun the whole time, i might as well play alone," you teased, bumping her with your elbow as she nearly drove off the track.
"huh? what? no, i’m playing," she muttered, not even looking at the screen as her character crashed into a wall. "yeonjun just sent me something funny, that’s all."
you roll your eyes, about to give up on getting her attention back when the doorbell rang.
"huh, who’s that?" hanna said, barely glancing away from her phone.
you pause the game, both of you looking toward the door. hanna finally gets up, heading over to open it. when she swings the door wide, you see him standing there—jay’s friend, heeseung. he’s clearly flustered, his hand shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly as if he’s uncomfortable being there.
"heeseung?" hanna asks, surprised. "what are you doing here?"
heeseung shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "uh, hey. is jay here? we were supposed to hang out, but he hasn’t been answering his phone. i figured i’d just come by and check."
you almost smirk. god, another one of jay’s friends who was a total loser in the cutest way possible.
like jay, heeseung had everything going for him—good looks, tall, decent style, but somehow still gave off the energy of a guy who’d stumble over his own words if you looked at him too long.
"he’s been locked in his room since he got back," hanna says, rolling her eyes. "probably doing god knows what. you can go knock if you want."
heeseung glances at you for a split second, then back at hanna. "uh, yeah, cool, thanks."
as he makes his way toward jay’s room, you can’t help but chuckle under your breath. you knew heeseung and jay well enough—they were practically glued to each other most days, playing games together, screaming over discord at all hours of the night. and here he was, showing up like some worried girlfriend when jay wasn’t answering his phone.
"he’s definitely still in there," hanna mutters, sitting back down next to you. "but if anyone can drag his ass out, it’s heeseung."
you nod, but your mind is elsewhere. jay, locked in his room all night, avoiding everyone. was he embarrassed? hiding from whatever happened earlier? or was it something else?
your curiosity eats at you, but you shove it down, focusing back on the game as heeseung knocks softly on jay’s door.
the muffled sound of voices drifts down the hall, heeseung’s awkward murmur and jay’s low, strained reply. you can’t make out what they’re saying, but the tension lingers in the air, heavy and thick.
"heeseung’s probably just here to game with him, like always," hanna says, half-watching the screen. "but i gotta say, that boy’s a mess too. sometimes i don’t get how they even function."
you snort. "yeah, but they’re good guys. even if they’re both clueless."
hanna grins. "true. but damn, if only they weren’t such awkward losers. they’d probably have girls falling all over them if they weren’t so… i don’t know, them."
you laugh, shaking your head, but part of you can’t shake the nagging thought about jay, the girl, the perfume… and why he’d been acting so strange ever since. damn.
looks like jay eventually let heeseung in, because after a few minutes, you hear the low murmur of voices coming from his room. nothing loud or out of the ordinary, but just enough to confirm that heeseung’s been granted access.
you continue playing mario kart with hanna, your mind half in the game and half still on jay, wondering what the hell is going on with him.
hanna keeps glancing at her phone, and you don’t miss the small smirks she gives whenever a notification pops up. it doesn’t take long before she’s fully lost in her own little world, yeonjun obviously at the center of it. you roll your eyes.
“you’re not even playing anymore,” you say, bumping her with your elbow as she drives straight off the edge for the third time in a row. “might as well just text him if you’re that distracted.”
“ugh, fine,” she mutters, tossing her controller down with a dramatic sigh. “he’s been dying to talk, and I can’t concentrate anyway.”
you raise an eyebrow. “what’s going on with you two, anyway? things getting serious or what?”
hanna bites her lip, the kind of half-smile that tells you everything and nothing all at once. “we’ll see. he’s been acting all sweet lately, but I just want to clear some things up, you know? make sure we’re on the same page.”
“mm-hmm,” you hum, not buying her casual tone for a second. “sure, sure. go have your little heart-to-heart.”
she rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, getting up and grabbing her phone. “i’m gonna go to my room and talk to him. don’t get into too much trouble while i’m gone,” she teases, disappearing down the hall with her phone already pressed to her ear.
you’re left sitting there, the room suddenly quiet except for the distant sound of jay and heeseung talking behind closed doors. you play a few more rounds of mario kart, but it feels pointless now that hanna’s gone and your mind is drifting back to jay again.
curiosity gets the better of you. before you even realize what you’re doing, you find yourself walking down the hall, toward jay’s room. your footsteps are light, almost cautious, like you’re not even sure you want to be caught doing this. but something about the whole situation—jay’s sudden flustered behavior, the perfume, the secrecy—it’s gnawing at you, and you just need to know.
you stop just outside his door, pressing your back to the wall, trying to hear what they’re talking about. their voices are low, but you catch snippets here and there. heeseung’s calm, steady tone contrasts with jay’s more hesitant, awkward replies.
“…so, how’d it go?” you hear heeseung ask, his voice muffled through the door.
there’s a long pause, and you can practically feel jay squirming from the other side. “…it was fine. great even but, god. it’s just… different.”
“different how?” heeseung presses, and now you’re straining to hear every word, your heart racing a little.
jay lets out a sigh. “i don’t know. i mean, she’s cool, but… i keep thinking about—”
you hold your breath, leaning in a little closer, desperate to hear what he’s going to say next. thinking about who? what the hell is he talking about?
but before you can catch the rest of his sentence, something creaks under your foot, the sound louder than you expected in the quiet hallway. you freeze, heart pounding in your chest, praying they didn’t hear you.
there’s a brief silence from inside the room, then jay’s voice, a little more alert now. “…did you hear that?”
shit.
you back away slowly, trying to move as quietly as possible, but your pulse is racing, and you can already feel the heat creeping up your neck.
your pulse quickens, adrenaline spiking as you slowly back away from jay’s door, praying he doesn’t open it and catch you red-handed. your foot moves carefully, barely making a sound as you step back down the hall, but you can hear the faint creak of the floorboards under your weight.
“nah, probably nothing,” you hear heeseung say, his voice trying to calm jay down. “this place is always making weird sounds.”
“yeah… maybe,” jay replies, but you can tell he’s still on edge. you hold your breath, waiting, listening for any sign that he’s going to open the door and find you there, eavesdropping like a total creep.
but the door doesn’t open. instead, their conversation picks back up, though jay’s voice is a little quieter now, more cautious, like he knows someone might be listening.
you exhale slowly, stepping back further into the hallway, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just slightly. that was too close, you think, your heart still racing as you slip back toward the living room.
but despite the close call, your curiosity hasn’t been satisfied. if anything, it’s only grown stronger. what the hell is jay thinking about? why did he seem so off today? and who was this girl, this mysterious person he’s apparently been seeing?
something about it all didn’t sit right with you, and it was starting to get under your skin.
as you make your way back to the couch, you try to shake it off, but your mind is still buzzing.
you hear hanna’s door creak open down the hall. she’s probably still on the phone with yeonjun, but knowing her, she’s already caught onto your little adventure. you hear her muffled voice through the walls, sounding serious, like she’s deep in conversation.
you try to focus on the game, but the more you think about it, the more frustrated you get. why do i even care so much? you ask yourself. jay was just a guy.
a sweet, awkward guy who’s been crushing on you for ages, sure, but still… why did the idea of him with someone else, even just hanging out, feel like it was getting to you so much?
you sigh, your grip tightening on the controller as you speed down the mario kart track, barely paying attention to what you’re doing. you know you’re overthinking it, but that doesn’t make the sick feeling in your gut go away. you hear a faint laugh from jay’s room, and your stomach twists.
hanna comes back into the living room, phone still in hand, but the conversation with yeonjun clearly over for now. she glances at you, raising an eyebrow as she flops down next to you on the couch, her eyes immediately narrowing like she’s picked up on something.
“you good?” she asks, half-amused, half-suspicious. she probably noticed the way you’ve been sitting there, controller in hand but not really playing, clearly lost in thought.
“yeah, i’m fine,” you lie, a little too quickly.
she smirks, shifting her position to face you better. “sure, sure. you’re ‘fine,’ but you look like you’re thinking way too hard about something. spill it. what’s going on?”
you pause, debating how much to say, but you know hanna isn’t the type to let things slide. she’ll keep poking until you give her something. you sigh, tossing the controller down in frustration.
“okay, fine. i’m just… curious.”
“about?”
“jay.”
hanna’s smirk widens. “oh? now we’re back to jay, huh? what happened while i was on the phone? did something weird go down between you two?”
“no,” you mutter, though that knot in your stomach tightens again. “it’s just… i don’t know. he’s been acting strange. like, he’s all flustered and avoiding us, and then there’s the whole thing about him seeing someone. i guess it’s just throwing me off.”
“hmm.” hanna leans back, crossing her arms as she studies you, clearly amused by your little dilemma. “so you’re bothered that jay’s hanging out with another girl. interesting.”
“i’m not bothered,” you say, but even to you, it sounds weak. “it’s just… weird, okay? he’s always been around, always crushing, and now suddenly he’s off with some other girl, wearing perfume and shit.”
hanna chuckles, shaking her head. “god, you really are jealous, just admit it. you had months to make a move, and now that someone else might be catching his attention, it’s messing with you.”
you shoot her a glare. “jealousy isn't the right term. i told you i'm just curious.”
“right,” she says, clearly not believing you for a second. “so curious that you probably tried to eavesdrop on him and heeseung just now, huh?”
your eyes widen slightly, but you try to keep your cool. “what? no. i didn’t—”
hanna laughs, cutting you off. “oh, please. i know you, and i definitely heard you sneaking around the hallway while i was on the phone. don’t even try to lie.”
you groan, burying your face in your hands. “fine. maybe i did try to eavesdrop a little. but it didn’t help. they were talking in these vague half-sentences, and now i’m just more confused.”
“so why don’t you just ask him?” hanna suggests, a grin tugging at her lips. “i mean, if you really want to know, just corner jay and get him to spill. he’s terrible at hiding stuff anyway.”
you consider her suggestion, feeling a mix of curiosity and frustration bubbling inside you. “and what exactly do i say? ‘hey, jay, so i noticed you’ve been acting weird and smelling like another girl. care to explain?’”
hanna bursts out laughing, shaking her head. “honestly? yeah. he’d probably be so flustered, he’d tell you everything just to avoid the embarrassment.”
you roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile creeping onto your face. “you’re terrible.”
“nah, i’m just honest.” hanna nudges you with her elbow. “c’mon, it’s not like he’s some big mystery. he’s jay. awkward, sweet, and totally wrapped up in you. if you want answers, just ask.”
“maybe,” you mumble, still not convinced but knowing she’s probably right.
"should i ask heeseung?" you blurt out, half-joking but also half-serious. maybe heeseung would give you the details without all the awkward stammering that jay would.
hanna raises an eyebrow, looking at you like you just suggested something crazy. "heeseung? are you kidding me? he’d probably fumble even worse than jay."
you laugh, but there's a part of you that wonders. heeseung—god, another awkward mess but that’s also why he might just crack under a little pressure.
"i mean, it’s not the worst idea," you say, shrugging. "he might slip up and say something."
"honey, heeseung can barely hold a conversation without tripping over his words, especially when he’s nervous. and you asking him about jay? yeah, good luck with that." hanna grins, clearly entertained by the idea. "besides, he’d probably just defer to jay, tell you to ask him."
"ugh, you’re probably right," you groan, sinking back into the couch. "it’s just… ugh, something feels off, and i can’t let it go."
hanna tilts her head, studying you with that look she gets when she’s about to get all deep and sisterly. "okay, real talk? why does it bug you so much? i mean, seriously. if jay’s seeing someone, why does it bother you this much?"
you pause, not really sure how to answer that without sounding like a complete mess. because honestly, you hadn’t thought too hard about it until now. why does it bother me?
"i don’t know," you finally admit, sighing.
"hmm," hanna hums knowingly. "so maybe it’s not just curiosity. maybe you liked the attention. or maybe… you like him more than you realize."
"no," you protest immediately, though the knot in your stomach tightens a little. "it’s not like that."
"okay, okay." hanna holds her hands up in surrender, smirking. "but if you want to know what’s really going on, you either ask jay or wait for him to spill. heeseung’s not gonna give you any answers."
you sit there, chewing on the inside of your cheek, the idea of confronting jay still gnawing at you. “yeah, but asking jay feels… complicated.”
“well, then,” hanna says, nudging you with her elbow, “you’ve got a decision to make. either get the guts to talk to jay, or just let it go and stop driving yourself nuts about it.”
you lean back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, wondering if you’ll actually have the nerve to confront jay. the curiosity is killing you, but there’s that part of you that doesn’t want to know… because what if it is serious with this girl?
realizing that maybe you shouldn’t dwell on this too much, you sigh, leaning back on the couch. maybe it’s just your ego getting in the way—getting worked up over the fact that jay’s attention was elsewhere, no longer revolving around you like it had for years.
it stung a little, yeah, but was it really about him? or was it just that weird feeling when someone you always thought would be there suddenly wasn’t?
you rub your temples, trying to shake off the thought. if it’s serious, do i even want to know?
you’ve already been through enough drama with sunghoon. getting tangled up in whatever jay had going on wasn’t something you needed right now. especially when your feelings about it weren’t even clear.
"maybe i’m just making a big deal out of nothing," you mutter, more to yourself than to hanna.
"huh?" she looks over at you, raising an eyebrow.
"maybe it’s just my ego, you know? i’m probably just annoyed that jay’s not giving me all his attention anymore. and if it’s serious, i really don’t want to mess with it."
hanna watches you for a second, her smirk fading into something a little softer. "yeah, maybe. but it’s not wrong to feel weird about it. he’s been your little puppy for so long, it’s gotta feel strange to see him with someone else. but like you said, if it’s serious, maybe it’s better to just leave it alone."
you nod, feeling a bit of relief in her words. leave it alone. yeah, that sounded like the smart move. you didn’t want to ruin anything for jay, not when he’d finally found someone that seemed to have his attention.
"yeah," you say, more certain now. "i’ll just let it go. if he’s happy, that’s all that matters."
"huh, look at you being mature," hanna teases, though there’s a warmth in her voice. "proud of you."
you snort, rolling your eyes. "don’t get used to it. but yeah… i think it’s for the best."
you both settle back into a comfortable silence, the weight of your curiosity easing a bit. jay was figuring out his own life, and as strange as it felt, you couldn’t hold onto the past forever. people moved on, and maybe it was time you let him do the same without all the second-guessing.
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weeks pass, and things between you, jay, and hanna settle into a weird but manageable routine. jay’s still around, but not as much. and you’ve mostly convinced yourself to stop overthinking it, especially when hanna lets slip that things with jay’s new girl seem to be going well.
every time she mentions it, you nod along, offering a polite "that’s great," even though you feel that familiar, subtle tug of something you can’t quite name. but you push it down and try not to dwell on it.
then one weekend, hanna decides to throw a party at her house. nothing too crazy, but she’s invited a bunch of friends over, and the idea is to just relax, drink, and let loose for a bit.
you’re half-excited, half-dreading it, especially since you know jay will probably be there too, along with a bunch of his friends, including heeseung.
"hanna, do we really need this party?" you ask a little nervously, standing in her kitchen the day of, helping her set up snacks and drinks. "i mean, are we celebrating something? or are you just in the mood to stir up chaos?"
she grins at you, mischievous as ever. "oh, you know me. stirring up chaos is my specialty. plus, we haven’t had a decent get-together in forever. and i need an excuse to dress cute and get drunk, so here we are."
you laugh, shaking your head. "fair enough."
“plus, yeonjun’s coming,” she adds with a wink, clearly excited about that little detail. “and i want him to meet some of my friends, show him off a bit, you know?”
“ah, so this party is really for yeonjun,” you tease, nudging her with your elbow.
“well, yeah,” she laughs, “but you’ll benefit too. lots of people are coming. you might meet someone.”
you roll your eyes but smile, part of you hopes he won’t bring his new girl to the party, though you hate yourself a little for even thinking that.
as the night progresses, people start trickling in. the house fills with the buzz of conversation, laughter, and music. you find yourself sipping on a drink, wandering between groups of friends, making small talk but keeping an eye out for familiar faces.
it’s a decent crowd—mostly people you know through hanna, but enough new faces to keep things interesting.
then, just as you’re starting to relax, jay walks in. and of course, heeseung is with him. jay’s wearing his usual casual style, but something about him seems different tonight—more confident, maybe? or maybe it’s just the way he’s been acting lately, more sure of himself. you can’t help but notice it, even though you’ve been telling yourself to stop.
your eyes flicker to his side, half-expecting to see the girl he’s been seeing, but to your surprise, he’s alone. no girlfriend in tow, just him and heeseung, who looks equally as awkward but still manages to make it work somehow.
hanna spots them and waves them over, and before you know it, you’re standing in a small group with jay, heeseung, and a few others, trying to act casual.
“hey,” jay says, his voice a little quieter than usual as he gives you a small, shy smile. "how’s it going?"
"good," you reply, forcing a smile back.
he nods, looking like he’s about to say something else when hanna jumps in, handing him a drink and teasing him about finally showing up. you take a sip of your own drink, trying not to stare, but you can’t help feeling that tug again, even though you promised yourself you were over this.
heeseung, meanwhile, is standing awkwardly beside jay, clearly a little uncomfortable in the social setting but still trying to make conversation. “so, uh, this party’s pretty cool,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.
"yeah, it’s nice," you say, giving him a reassuring smile. "hanna always knows how to throw a good party."
"for sure," heeseung agrees, glancing around like he’s not sure what to do next.
as the conversation flows, you notice jay stealing glances at you every now and then, the party vibe is definitely kicking up a notch. the music’s louder, people are getting rowdier, and the drinks are flowing fast.
you’re on your second, maybe third drink, the buzz slowly settling into your veins, helping to loosen up that weird tension you’ve been feeling since jay walked in.
you're standing with jay, heeseung, and a couple of others, and it’s not long before everyone’s talking shit and laughing a little too loudly.
heeseung, bless his awkward heart, is still standing off to the side, clutching a drink like it’s a lifeline. the guy’s not exactly built for parties, but he’s trying. you watch as he takes a big swig of his beer, his face immediately flushing red, creeping up his neck and settling in his cheeks.
you can’t help but smirk, leaning in slightly as you raise an eyebrow at him. “damn, heeseung. you okay? you’re turning red as fuck.”
heeseung sputters, looking down at his drink like it’s betrayed him. “what? no, i’m fine. just, uh, warm in here, y’know?”
“sure, sure. it’s the alcohol, isn’t it?” you tease, giving him a playful grin. “you’re a lightweight, huh?”
he flushes even more, if that’s even possible, and you can’t help but find it kind of cute. maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but seeing him all flustered like this has you feeling a little bold. “you know, it’s a good look on you. red suits you,” you say, giving him a slightly flirty smile.
heeseung’s eyes widen a bit, and he looks like he’s about to choke on his drink. “w-what? no, i—thanks, i guess?” he stammers, clearly not expecting that. he shifts awkwardly, trying to hide his face behind his cup.
jay, who’s been listening in, raises an eyebrow at your comment but doesn’t say anything, his eyes flicking between you and heeseung like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on. you can see the confusion on his face, like he’s not sure whether to be amused or annoyed.
you can’t help but push a little further, just to see how flustered you can make heeseung. “you’re cute when you’re drunk, heeseung. maybe you should drink more often.”
heeseung’s practically glowing red now, his grip tightening on his drink as he lets out a nervous laugh. “uh, maybe I’ll stick to water,” he mumbles, clearly flustered out of his mind.
“nah, live a little,” you tease, leaning back casually, taking a sip of your own drink. you’re definitely feeling a little bolder than usual, the alcohol making you loosen up while jay’s still watching the whole interaction.
hanna comes over, laughing loudly with yeonjun hanging off her, clearly already tipsy. “yo, what’s going on here?” she asks, grinning as she looks between you, jay, and heeseung.
“nothing,” you shrug, “just giving heeseung some shit for turning into a tomato after one drink.”
heeseung groans, covering his face with his hand. “can we not?”
hanna snickers, nudging you. “i see you, though, giving him those flirty little comments. careful, or you’re gonna give him a heart attack.”
you laugh, shaking your head. “nah, he’s fine. aren’t you, heeseung?”
heeseung gives a weak thumbs up, still too flustered to respond properly, and you can’t help but find the whole thing hilarious. jay, though, is still watching you carefully, like he’s trying to figure out what game you’re playing, his jaw clenched just slightly. but you ignore it, deciding to have a little fun with the night.
“so, jay,” you say, turning to him with a smirk. “how’s the new girl? thought you’d bring her to the party.”
jay’s expression tightens for a split second before he relaxes, shrugging casually. “she’s busy. couldn’t make it.”
“oh,” you hum, “too bad. would’ve been nice to meet her.” the words come out a little more pointed than you intended, but the alcohol’s loosening your tongue.
jay just nods, sipping his drink, not saying much, but the tension between you two is palpable now. heeseung’s still standing there, awkward as ever, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of the conversation.
hanna gives you a look, raising an eyebrow. “damn, what’s going on with y’all?” she asks, half-laughing. “we’re supposed to be having fun, not having weird-ass standoffs.”
you shrug, trying to play it off. “just making conversation.”
jay doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his eyes narrowing slightly like he’s trying to figure you out. the tension’s thick now, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s caught on to your curiosity about him and his new girl—or if he’s feeling the same weird shift that you are.
the party is in full swing now, reaching that peak where everyone’s either too drunk or too deep in the vibe to care anymore. the music’s loud, thumping through the house, and the living room has turned into a makeshift dance floor. people are swaying, drinks sloshing, and you find yourself caught up in the energy of it all.
you spot hanna in the middle of the room, completely lost in the music, grinding on yeonjun like her life depends on it. she’s got her arms draped over his shoulders, moving with him in sync, her hips swaying to the beat. yeonjun’s hands are on her waist, pulling her closer as they move together, both clearly tipsy but having the time of their lives.
you can’t help but laugh at the sight of her. god, she’s really going for it tonight. you’re feeling the buzz too, a few drinks deep, and before you know it, you’re out on the floor as well, the beat taking over your body.
the room is hot, the air thick with sweat, perfume, and alcohol. the bass vibrates through your chest, and you let yourself move, swaying to the rhythm, feeling the weight of everything melt away. the drinks have loosened you up, and you don’t care who’s watching. it feels good to just let go.
you close your eyes, losing yourself in the music, your body moving in time with the beat. you can feel the warmth of the people around you, the brush of bodies as you dance, but you don’t think about anything except the way the music pulses through your veins.
a few minutes pass, and when you open your eyes, you catch sight of jay standing near the edge of the room, drink in hand, watching. his gaze is fixed on you, his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes dark with something you can’t quite place. it’s not just curiosity—it’s heavier, more intense.
the moment your eyes lock with his, you feel a jolt of something run through you. the alcohol in your system makes everything feel bolder, sharper, and you don’t look away.
instead, you let your body move a little slower, more deliberately, the music still guiding you, but now there’s a purpose behind it. you’re aware of his eyes on you, and you’re playing into it.
heeseung’s still somewhere in the crowd, flushed red from drinking, probably too shy to join in on the dance floor, but you’re not thinking about him anymore. your focus is on jay, standing there, watching, the tension between you two crackling in the air like a live wire.
hanna’s laughter cuts through the noise as she and yeonjun get even closer, practically wrapped around each other, and you shake your head, smirking at how wild she’s gotten. but then, almost instinctively, your eyes flick back to jay, and he’s still staring, not even trying to hide it.
as your hips swayed to the rhythm, you suddenly feel an arm drape around your shoulder, stopping you mid-movement. confusion flickers in your mind, and your eyes stay on jay for just a beat longer before you turn to see who it is.
then, you hear someone scream in your ear, trying to be heard over the booming music.
"hey!"
you blink, pulling back slightly, and there he is—sunghoon. your ex.
the shock hits you like a cold wave, making your whole body tense up. of all people, it had to be sunghoon. you immediately feel a rush of irritation bubbling up inside you, remembering all the reasons why you left that dry, emotionless relationship behind.
"sunghoon? what the fuck are you doing here?" you yell over the music, your face scrunching up in disbelief.
he smirks down at you, clearly tipsy, his grip on your shoulder firm but not exactly welcome. "just wanted to catch up!" he shouts, his voice laced with that familiar cocky tone, like he���s doing you a favor just by showing up.
you glance around, realizing how close he’s standing to you, the weight of his arm making your skin crawl. really, sunghoon? now?
"catch up?" you shout back, trying to shake him off. "there’s nothing to catch up on!"
he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, and you feel a spike of anger mix with the awkwardness of the moment. "come on, don’t be like that! i was just thinking about you, y'know?"
your patience snaps. "dude, we're done. way done. move the fuck on already," you snap, stepping out from under his arm. your heart’s racing, and you quickly glance back at jay, who’s still watching, his expression unreadable now.
sunghoon looks taken aback, but that smug grin stays plastered on his face. "alright, alright. no need to be so cold. just thought you might’ve missed me."
"missed you?" you laugh, bitterness creeping into your voice. "nah, not even close."
sunghoon shrugs, clearly not getting the hint or just ignoring it, but you’ve already tuned him out, your eyes flicking back to jay for a brief second. his gaze is still on you, and you can tell by the way his jaw is clenched that he saw everything. there's a flicker of something dark, maybe jealousy, or maybe something else entirely.
you turn back to sunghoon, fed up. "look, you’ve got about ten seconds to fuck off before i make this real awkward for you."
sunghoon finally gets the message, rolling his eyes as he steps back, hands raised in mock surrender. "alright, alright. whatever. you’re missing out."
"yeah, sure," you mutter, watching as he stumbles off into the crowd. good riddance.
the moment he’s gone, you exhale, feeling the tension start to lift.
hanna, still wrapped around yeonjun but now clearly paying attention, turns to look at you as sunghoon walks away. her face is a mix of confusion and amusement, her eyebrows raised. she’s clearly not drunk enough to miss the drama unfolding in front of her.
"what the fuck was that?" she shouts over the music, looking between you and the direction sunghoon disappeared in. "why the hell is he here?"
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "hell if I know. i didn’t even know he’d be at the party. guess he just felt like showing up to ruin my night."
hanna looks equal parts amused and annoyed. "that guy’s got some fucking nerve. acting like you’d just fall back into his arms or something."
you shake your head, still fuming. "he’s delusional. fucking idiot."
hanna watches you for a second longer, then nods toward jay, who’s still standing on the edge of the dance floor, his eyes locked on you. "well, seems like someone else noticed that little encounter. what’s going on with him?"
you glance back at jay, who quickly looks away as soon as your eyes meet. even from across the room. part of you wonders what’s running through his head.
"nothing," you mumble, though you know that’s far from the truth.
hanna snorts, giving you a knowing look. "yeah, well, whatever it is, you should probably talk to him. looks like he’s been staring at you all night. and now with sunghoon back in the picture? don’t let this shit fester, babe."
"shit, what do i even say?!" you mutter, more to yourself than to hanna, but she hears you loud and clear. she leans closer, still swaying a bit from the alcohol and the lingering high of dancing with yeonjun, but her focus is locked on you now.
"easy," she says with a smirk, “you just walk over there, look him dead in the eyes, and say, ‘so, were you watching that whole shitshow, or do I have to fill you in?’”
you groan, rolling your eyes. “yeah, sure, because that’ll go over well.”
hanna raises an eyebrow, nudging you toward him. "you’re overthinking it. just go talk to him. you got this."
"yeah, easier said than done," you mutter, but you force yourself to move. you’re not about to let this weird tension drag out any longer, especially with the way your stomach flips every time jay looks at you like that.
you take a deep breath, pushing your way through the crowd until you’re standing in front of him. jay’s eyes widen the second he sees you up close, his usual quiet confidence completely unraveling as he visibly tenses up. god, he’s already a mess, and you haven’t even said anything yet.
"hey," you start, trying to sound casual, but the alcohol’s making your voice a little too soft, too loose. "you’ve been staring at me all night, you know?"
jay’s face turns bright red, his gaze immediately darting to the floor. "i—uh, i —I mean, maybe I was a little," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck in that awkward way he always does when he’s nervous. "it’s just, well, you look—"
"jay," you cut him off with a smirk, stepping a little closer. "you’re a terrible liar."
his face flushes even more, and he tries to hide it behind a nervous chuckle. "yeah, okay, maybe I was staring. but it’s hard not to when—"
"when what?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, feeling a little bolder than usual thanks to the alcohol. god, this drink was definitely getting to you. everything feels looser, like the tension between you two has been stretched so thin it could snap at any second.
"i mean… look at you," jay mumbles, barely meeting your eyes. "it’s hard not to stare when you look like that."
the compliment catches you off guard, but instead of letting it throw you, you press on, pushing the conversation to where you really want it to go. "and what about that girl you’ve been seeing? can't you make her come over for some fun? party's great, shame she couldn't make it."
jay looks completely flustered now, his eyes going wide as he stumbles over his words. "we’re not, like, serious or anything. just hanging out."
"still 'just hanging out,' huh?" you tease, taking another step closer, and now you can see the way he’s nervously shifting from foot to foot, his cheeks flushed red. god, he’s a cute mess.
"yeah," jay mumbles, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for a brief second before he quickly looks away again.
you laugh softly, cutting him off again. "relax, jay. i’m not grilling you." but the way your heart’s racing tells a different story. why does this feel so intense all of a sudden? maybe it’s the alcohol.
jay’s still staring at the floor, shifting uncomfortably, clearly trying to gather his thoughts, but he’s failing at hiding how flustered he is. "i just… didn’t think you’d care."
"why wouldn’t i care?" you ask, your voice softer now, trying to ease him out of whatever mess of feelings he's stuck in. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, vulnerable for a moment, but then he looks away again.
"you’ve never been so curious about me before," he mutters, his voice barely above the music. "we’ve known each other for years, 'cause of hanna, but… you never really asked me questions about myself."
his words hang heavy between you two, the weight of years of unnoticed glances and quiet moments suddenly crashing down. it's not an accusation—just a quiet truth. you'd always been caught up in your own world, and jay had been right there the whole time. you felt bad.
“jay…” you start, but the words don’t come out as you hoped. it’s harder than you thought, confronting the reality that you’ve been blind to him all this time.
he finally looks up, meeting your gaze, and for a second, you can see the frustration and confusion bubbling under the surface. "yeah?"
you hesitate, not wanting to dive too deep into all the messy feelings swirling between you two. instead, you decide to lighten things up, if only for a moment. "where’s heeseung, anyway? thought you two were inseparable tonight."
jay blinks, looking surprised by the change in topic. "uh… heeseung? he’s probably somewhere getting even more drunk," he mutters, glancing around the room briefly. "he disappears when he drinks. tries to avoid embarrassing himself, i think."
you can’t help but chuckle at that. "yeah, i did see him turn red after like one drink. kinda cute, honestly."
jay’s expression softens slightly, the tension between you both easing, though he still seems unsure. "yeah, that’s him," he says, his voice a little lighter now.
"so… what about you?" you ask, biting your lip, your heart beating a little faster. "i mean, are you avoiding embarrassing yourself, too?"
jay laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances around, clearly feeling a bit off-balance. "um, yeah, i’m trying. but i’m starting to get a little drunk, so…" he trails off, placing his cup on a nearby shelf with an awkward, almost cute, gesture.
you can’t help but smile at how flustered he is, but the air between you is still heavy with the unsaid. it’s like there’s this invisible line you both keep dancing around, but neither of you is willing to cross it.
“you’re not doing a bad job so far,” you tease lightly, stepping closer. your heart’s pounding, the alcohol loosening your tongue more than usual. “though i wouldn’t say you’re avoiding embarrassment. not entirely, anyway.”
just then, as if summoned by the awkward tension hanging in the air, heeseung comes rushing in, his face red, flushed even more than before. his hair’s a mess, and he’s panting slightly, looking like he just barely made it through whatever disaster he’s been avoiding.
“hey, guys!” he blurts out, clearly drunk, his words slurring just a little as he stumbles into the room. his eyes flick between you and jay, not noticing the thick air of tension he just walked into.
“thought i’d find you here—what’s going on?” he says, grinning like he hasn’t just completely derailed whatever moment you and jay were having.
you and jay both freeze, caught off guard by heeseung’s sudden appearance. you can’t help but laugh softly at the timing, shaking your head as the moment you were sharing with jay evaporates into the background.
"heeseung, man," jay mutters, trying to keep his voice steady as he looks at his friend. "where’ve you been? you’re looking… rough."
heeseung waves him off, stumbling slightly as he leans on the wall for support. "don’t worry ‘bout me. just had a few too many, I guess." he grins, then looks at you with that drunken charm only heeseung could pull off. “but damn, am i interrupting something? you two look like you’re in the middle of a moment.”
jay groans under his breath, rubbing his face in frustration, while you can’t help but snicker at the situation. of course heeseung would show up now, right when jay finally had some alone time with you. well kinda—minus the other people partying.
“nah, just talking,” you say, waving him off, though you catch jay giving you a quick glance, his expression still a little tight. “what about you, heeseung? you look like you’re about to pass out.”
heeseung grins sheepishly, his face still bright red from drinking. “maybe. but I’m still standing! barely,” he jokes, clearly unaware of the tension between you and jay. "but hey, good to see you two getting along. for a second, i thought i was gonna have to play wingman."
“wingman? for who?” you tease, feeling a bit more playful now that the moment with jay has been interrupted.
jay shifts uncomfortably beside you, clearly caught off guard by heeseung’s drunken boldness. his eyes flick to you, waiting to see how you’d react, and when you just laugh and shake your head at heeseung’s comment, jay groans under his breath.
fuck, heeseung.
unable to hide his embarrassment, jay moves quickly, throwing an arm around heeseung in a side hug. but it’s not exactly friendly—more like a half-hearted attempt to pull him close and, at the same time, silently threaten him into shutting the hell up.
"yeah, okay, man," jay mutters through gritted teeth, rubbing heeseung’s shoulder in a way that would seem affectionate if it wasn’t for the slight squeeze of warning. "you’ve had enough. let’s not make things worse for you."
heeseung, still too drunk to fully catch on, just laughs, grinning as he looks between you and jay. “what? i’m just being honest! i mean, the guy’s been staring at you like—"
jay tightens his grip on heeseung’s shoulder, cutting him off with a forced chuckle. “alright, alright, that’s enough out of you.” he pats heeseung a little harder than necessary, shooting him a look that practically screams shut the fuck up before you make this worse.
you can’t help but find the whole thing amusing, watching jay struggle between mortification and trying to keep heeseung from spilling any more embarrassing truths. “looks like someone’s about to get dragged home,” you tease, biting back a grin as you watch the two of them.
jay throws you a look, his face still red from embarrassment. “yeah, and it’s about to be this guy,” he says, giving heeseung one last squeeze before loosening his grip.
heeseung, still grinning like an idiot, doesn’t seem to mind. “whatever, man,” he mutters, swaying slightly. “i’m just trying to help.”
you laugh, shaking your head. "help, huh? i’m not sure how much help you’re being right now."
"he’s not," jay groans, letting go of heeseung and stepping back, trying to recover from the mess his friend just created. his eyes meet yours again, still flustered but with a hint of nervousness, like he’s wondering if you’re taking this all in stride.
"but he’s right, you know," you say suddenly, your voice teasing but carrying a little more weight now as you look at jay. "you were staring."
"i-i… don’t have a rebuttal for that," jay stammers, his face flushing deeper as he struggles to maintain his composure. you can tell he’s embarrassed, completely thrown off by how the night’s turned out, and it’s honestly kind of adorable.
just then, heeseung suddenly sways, looking like he’s about to pass out. jay’s eyes widen with worry, and without hesitation, he wraps an arm around his drunken friend. “shit, he’s about to drop,” jay mutters, looking at you quickly. “i need to get him to my room before he makes a scene.”
you nod, stepping in to help, guiding heeseung’s other side as the three of you stumble through the house. the party’s still loud in the background, but the farther you get, the more it fades into a distant hum. it’s almost a relief when you make it to jay’s room, the door shutting behind you, instantly muffling the chaos outside.
as jay sets heeseung down on the bed, you take a moment to glance around. damn. you haven’t been in here in years, and it’s clear things have changed.
gone are the comic books and posters that once covered his walls. now, jay’s room has a more refined, almost minimalist vibe. his gaming setup is still the centerpiece, of course, but everything else—his sleek furniture, expensive-looking decor—makes it clear that he’s grown up in more ways than one. who knew jay had such expensive taste?
"wow," you say, unable to help yourself. "i remember when me and hanna used to sneak in here and steal your comic books."
jay chuckles, glancing over at you as he pulls a blanket over heeseung. “yeah, those were the days. back when you barely even noticed i existed,” he says it lightheartedly, but there’s a hint of something deeper in his voice.
you laugh, shaking your head as you take in the room. "well, your room’s definitely grown up. fancy, even."
jay smirks, leaning against the wall, finally a bit more relaxed now that heeseung’s out cold. “what can i say? things change. i figured it was time to upgrade.”
“clearly,” you say, raising an eyebrow at his setup. “you look like you’ve got your life together now.”
“well, appearances can be deceiving,” jay mutters, a slight smile playing on his lips as he crosses his arms, looking at you with that same vulnerable expression from earlier.
there’s a quiet moment as you both stand there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you again. the party feels like a world away now, and for the first time tonight, you’re both alone.
as you stand there, the weight of the moment heavy between you and jay, you feel your legs move before you really think about it. you sit down on the edge of the bed, glancing at heeseung, who’s already out cold, sprawled out and snoring softly. the sight of him, completely knocked out, makes you chuckle softly under your breath.
“looks like he’s done for the night,” you murmur, leaning back slightly, your hand brushing the soft fabric of the bedspread. jay’s bed. it’s something small, insignificant even, but the realization hits you—you’re sitting on his bed.
and jay… well, if you could see inside his mind right now, it’d be a mess of chaos. holy shit, she’s sitting on my bed. his heart’s pounding, his brain scrambling to process the fact that the girl he’s been crushing on for years is casually sitting on his bed, her presence making the room feel smaller, more intimate.
god, if only it’d smell like her. jay inwardly groans, leaning against the wall, trying to play it cool. but every second you stay there, it feels like his mind is short-circuiting.
he’s had dreams about this exact scenario—well, maybe without the passed-out heeseung—but still, this was close enough to make him freak out inwardly. he’s trying not to stare, but he’s doing a terrible job of hiding how flustered he is.
“he’s gonna be feeling that tomorrow,” you say, looking up at jay, noticing how he hasn’t said much since you sat down. his face is a little too composed, like he’s trying not to let on how much this is messing with him.
jay laughs, but it’s awkward, his throat dry. “yeah, he’s gonna hate himself in the morning.” he forces himself to focus on something else—anything else—but his mind keeps drifting back to the fact that you’re sitting on his bed. fuck.
you glance around the room again, taking in how different everything feels now. “you’ve really grown up, jay,” you say softly, a teasing edge to your voice. “i mean, i remember when this room was all comics and random junk. now it’s… well, it’s like you.”
jay’s eyes snap to yours, and he swallows hard. “yeah, well… like i said, things change.”
there’s a charged silence, and you can feel the tension settling between you two again, heavier than before. jay shifts awkwardly, running a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what the hell to say.
say something, idiot, his mind screams.
but the sight of you, sitting there so casually on his bed, your presence filling the space, is making it impossible for him to think straight. all he can think about is how he’s wanted this—wanted you—for so long, and now you’re here, and it feels too good to be true.
"so, are you also turning in for the night?" you ask jay, your voice soft but teasing, as you glance over at him.
he freezes for a second, not expecting the question. his eyes flick to heeseung, passed out on the bed, then back to you, sitting there looking way too comfortable for him to handle. holy shit, what do i even say?
"uh, no, not yet," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "i mean, i probably should, but…"
but the sight of you sitting on his bed, casually asking if he’s turning in for the night, is making his mind spin. fuck, this is not how I thought tonight would go, were you thinking he still had his own bedtime?
you raise an eyebrow, your lips curving into a small smirk. "what? you too flustered to sleep?"
jay groans inwardly, his face turning even redder. "no, i just—i wasn’t planning on crashing yet, that’s all."
you chuckle softly, leaning back slightly, your hand still resting on the bed. "well, it’s your room, so if you wanna sleep, don’t let me stop you."
jay’s heart is racing. sleep? with you sitting there? yeah, right. he’s practically screaming inside, trying to figure out how to play this cool, but everything feels impossible right now. the tension, the proximity, the fact that you’re casually sitting on his bed like it’s no big deal—it’s all driving him insane.
"nah, i’ll, uh, hang out a bit more," jay says, his voice a little steadier now, but his eyes give him away. he’s nervous, caught up in the moment, and trying desperately not to make it awkward.
"you sure?" you ask, teasing him just a little, sensing how flustered he is.
"yeah, i’m good," he mutters, but his eyes are still glued to you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze, the way he’s struggling to keep his composure.
there’s a silence between you two, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s charged, like something’s building, and neither of you is sure what the next step is.
"you’re acting weird," you finally say, breaking the tension with a playful smile.
jay laughs, but it’s nervous. "yeah, well… it’s not every day you sit on my bed, you know?" he admits, his voice quiet, but his words hit deeper than either of you expected.
"what?" you almost laugh, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. the fact that jay had been talking to a girl recently—someone who clearly had his attention—somehow makes this even more amusing. the contrast between his awkwardness now and the idea of him being confident enough to date just hits differently.
"you’re acting like this is the first time a girl’s sat on your bed," you tease, the words slipping out with a smirk. you lean back a little, watching him squirm. "but you’ve been talking to this girl, right? what’s her name again?"
jay’s face flushes even deeper, and you can see the panic flash in his eyes for a second. he scratches the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable now. "yeah, well… that’s different."
"oh? different how?" you ask, still teasing, but now there’s a genuine curiosity building inside you. it’s hard to picture jay this flustered around someone else, especially when he’s always been so awkward with you.
as your eyes drift around the room again, they land on the corner where his trash bin sits. everything else in his room is pristine, almost too perfect, but the mess around the trash catches your attention. then, something makes you pause.
huh? your eyes narrow as you take in what you’re seeing—a used condom wrapper, crumpled at the top of the bin.
the movement catches jay’s attention, and he follows your eyes to the corner of the room. the second he realizes what you’re looking at, his whole body tenses, and his face flushes red again, but this time, it’s not just embarrassment. defensive mode activated.
“shit—it’s not what it looks like!” jay blurts out, scrambling to say something before you can even comment. his voice comes out high-pitched, panicked, and he throws his hands up as if he can somehow stop you from thinking what you’re clearly already thinking.
"oh, really?" you raise an eyebrow, your voice teasing, as you glance between him and the trash bin. "because it looks like someone had a little fun recently."
"no, no, no," jay stammers, his eyes darting around the room like he's searching for an escape. "i mean, yeah, but it’s not—fuck." he groans, rubbing his face with his hands. "this is so embarrassing."
you bite your lip to keep from laughing, but the grin’s already spreading across your face. "jay," you say, trying and failing to hide your amusement. "you don’t have to explain yourself. i mean, it's a condom wrapper. it speaks for itself, man."
he groans louder, clearly flustered and struggling to defend himself. “okay, fine, yeah, but—look, it’s not what you think..”
you tilt your head, genuinely curious now, but still teasing. "i mean, it’s pretty simple—girl, guy, wrapper—”
“please stop,” jay groans, cutting you off, his hands covering his face in full-blown embarrassment now. "this is literally the last conversation i wanted to have tonight."
"oh, come on," you laugh, leaning forward. "i gotta hear this."
"it's not that big of a deal," jay mutters, still trying to dodge the conversation, but you can tell he’s squirming under the weight of your teasing.
"oh, but it is," you tease, your grin wide now.
he lets out another groan, this time softer, more resigned, as he sinks back against the wall. "this is so fucking embarrassing."
jay, still visibly flustered and probably dying inside from the teasing, looks at you cautiously. his eyes flick from you to the bed, then back to you.
you can tell he wants to sit down, maybe get closer, but there's one problem—heeseung, sprawled out like a deadweight, has taken up almost the entire bed. his legs are hanging off the edge, and you’re already sitting on the last bit of available space.
jay hesitates, biting his lip as he steps closer. he looks at you, almost shy, clearly debating whether he should even attempt it.
"there’s, uh… not really anywhere for me to sit," he mutters, his voice low and awkward.
you glance at the bed and can’t help but snicker at the situation. "yeah, heeseung’s kind of hogging all the space, huh?"
jay nods, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "yeah. guess I’ll just stand."
you look up at him, still teasing, but there’s a part of you that can’t help but feel a little bad for how awkward this is for him. “well, you could sit, but you’d probably have to, uh… move me.”
jay’s eyes widen slightly, and you can practically see his brain short-circuiting as he processes what you just said. “move you?” he stammers, looking even more unsure of what to do.
“yeah,” you smirk, leaning back a little, enjoying watching him squirm. “unless you want to sit on me, which might be a little… much.”
jay’s face flushes bright red, and he looks at the floor, clearly trying to figure out how to navigate this without combusting from embarrassment. “i’ll… uh, I’ll figure something out,” he mutters, taking another hesitant step closer to the bed.
“you sure?” you tease, watching him struggle. “i don’t bite, jay.”
he swallows hard, still standing awkwardly beside the bed, clearly torn between wanting to sit and not wanting to make things even more awkward than they already are.
jay, clearly at the end of his rope with the awkwardness, finally sighs and says, “can you please move?” his voice is a little hesitant, but there’s a hint of desperation in it, like he’s trying his hardest to keep it together.
you raise an eyebrow, surprised he actually asked, but you can’t help but smile. “oh, so now you’re just kicking me off the bed?” you tease, but there’s no bite in your tone.
“no! no, that’s not… that’s not what I meant,” he stammers, his face flushing even more, clearly mortified at how it came out. “i just—there’s no room and—ugh, never mind.”
he rubs his face with his hands, groaning in frustration, and you realize how much you’ve been teasing him all night. maybe it’s time to ease up.
“alright, alright,” you laugh softly, finally scooting over to the side a bit, making room for him. “relax, jay. i’m just messing with you.”
he looks at you with a mixture of relief and lingering embarrassment as he awkwardly slides onto the bed next to you, carefully avoiding heeseung’s sprawled-out limbs. the bed dips slightly under his weight, and you’re suddenly much closer to him than you expected.
the air between you feels hot again, the teasing fading into something heavier, more serious. you glance over at jay, who’s still looking flustered, but there’s something in his eyes now—something deeper.
"thanks," he mumbles, not quite looking at you, but you can see the tension in his shoulders relax just a little.
"so?" you drawl, your voice teasing, hanging in the air between you two for a moment. but before jay can even process what’s happening, you stand up quickly, the sudden movement causing your perfume to linger in the air around him. it’s intoxicating, and for a second, jay freezes, his heart caught in his throat as he watches you leave the room with a playful smirk and a slam of the door behind you.
he’s left sitting there, staring at the spot where you’d been, his heart sinking for just a moment, thinking maybe that was it. maybe you were done messing with him for the night.
but not even a minute later, you re-enter the room, the sounds of the party still going strong behind you. you’ve got two cups in your hands, and without a word, you walk back over to him, handing one to jay with a small grin.
"here," you say simply, offering the cup.
jay takes it, still looking a little dazed, blinking up at you like he’s trying to piece together what just happened. "uh, thanks," he mutters, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the cup from you. the tension is back—thick and palpable—as you sit back down beside him.
"you thought i was ditching you, didn’t you?" you tease, leaning back against the bedpost, watching his expression closely.
jay chuckles nervously, taking a sip from the cup to steady himself. "maybe a little. i thought i scared you off."
"please," you laugh, shaking your head. "takes more than awkward flirting and heeseung passed out on your bed to scare me away."
he laughs, too, though there’s still that undercurrent of tension. he looks down at his cup, then back at you, his smile softer now. "i’m glad you didn’t."
there’s a beat of silence between you both, you’re sitting close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, and for the first time tonight, jay’s not looking away.
"so," you say again, your voice softer this time, but still carrying that teasing edge as you lean just a little closer to him. "you gonna tell me how you got your cherry popped?"
jay practically chokes on his drink, eyes widening as he looks at you in shock. his face flushes a deep red again, and for a moment, you think he might actually implode from sheer embarrassment.
"w-what?!" he stammers, his voice cracking slightly, clearly caught off guard by the question. "i… shit—"
you raise an eyebrow, cutting him off before he can finish. "jay, c’mon. i’m not judging you or anything. just… curious. seems like there’s a story here."
he groans, covering his face with one hand, clearly dying inside. "this is so embarrassing," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you’re really not gonna let this go, are you?"
"nope," you grin, taking a sip from your drink, enjoying how flustered he’s getting. "i mean, you’ve been hiding it from me this whole time. it’s only fair I get the details now."
jay exhales sharply, clearly torn between wanting to crawl under a rock and just giving in to your relentless teasing. finally, he lowers his hand, meeting your gaze, though his face is still burning red.
"fine," he mutters, glancing at the floor like he’s trying to find the right words. "but it’s not… it’s not what you think, okay?"
you lean in, eyes glinting with amusement. "oh, now I really wanna hear this."
jay rubs the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable but knowing he’s not getting out of this one. "it was just… one time. with someone I met, like, a few weeks ago," he mumbles, his voice quiet. "it wasn’t a big deal. nothing serious."
"someone you met?" you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. "was it the girl you’ve been talking to?"
he hesitates, then nods slowly. "yeah, her. but… like I said, it wasn’t serious. just… something that happened." he looks away again, clearly embarrassed, and you can tell he’s trying to downplay it.
you study him for a moment, the teasing smile still on your lips but softening a little. "so, was it good?" you ask, your tone gentler now.
god, you wished you didn’t ask. the moment the question leaves your lips, and jay’s face flushes even deeper, you feel a strange twist in your stomach—an unease that wasn’t there before. sure, you’d been teasing him all night, but now, the answer feels heavier than you expected.
"i mean… yeah?" jay says, his voice awkward, paired with that nervous laugh you’ve grown used to. but there’s something about his response that stings, a strange tightness in your chest as the reality of what you asked settles in.
you force a smile, trying to push through the sudden tension you didn’t expect. "well, congrats on finally joining the club," you say, though your voice lacks its usual bite. shit, why does this feel weird?
jay chuckles, but it’s quieter now. "yeah, well… better late than never, right?"
you nod, taking a long sip from your drink, trying to focus on something else, anything to get rid of this strange feeling gnawing at you. but it’s too late—the image of jay with someone else, feeling that same awkward tension with them, suddenly makes your stomach churn in a way you can’t explain.
you glance at him again, noticing how his eyes avoid yours, his face still red from the conversation. why did i even ask that?
"and you like this girl?" the question leaves your lips before you can think twice about it, hanging in the air between you like a challenge. you’re not sure why you asked, but now that it’s out there, you can’t take it back.
jay looks caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly as he processes the question. he blinks, taking a deep breath, clearly not expecting the conversation to take this turn. “i mean… I don’t know,” he mutters, looking down at his hands. "again, it just… happened."
the way he says it, casual but unsure, only makes that weird, unsettled feeling in your chest tighten. you nod, trying to play it off, but something about the whole situation is starting to weigh on you.
"just happened, huh?" you say, your voice softer, but there’s an edge to it that you can’t quite hide.
jay shifts uncomfortably, clearly sensing the shift in your mood. "yeah. we don’t really talk anymore. it was… it didn’t mean much."
you look at him, studying his face for any sign of regret or emotion, but he seems genuinely unsure. it didn’t mean much. that should make you feel better, but it doesn’t. not really. it just leaves more questions hanging between you both—questions neither of you are ready to answer.
"so, no feelings?" you ask, and the words come out a little sharper than you intended.
"no," jay says quickly, his voice steady but cautious. "no feelings. it wasn’t like that."
but then, jay’s expression shifts into one of deep thought, his brow furrowing slightly, but a small smile tugs at his lips as he takes a sip from his drink.
you watch him closely, noticing for the first time how much he’s already had—his glass is halfway done, yet he doesn’t even seem the least bit drunk. except for those bloodshot eyes, you think, startled by how well he’s handling the alcohol. you swore you gave him a strong one, and yet here he is, not even wincing as he swallows.
and just as you're about to comment on it, jay sets his drink down and glances at you, the smile still lingering on his lips. his voice is calm but holds something beneath the surface, something you can’t quite place.
"there is someone i'd like to fuck though."
your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets at jay's sudden, blunt confession, the words hanging in the air like a bombshell. what the hell happened to the shy, stammering guy from earlier? he’s sitting there, calm as ever, sipping his drink like he didn’t just drop the most loaded statement of the night.
your heart races, caught between the shock and the possibility that he might be talking about you. he’s been crushing on you for years, right? that’s what you’ve always thought, that underlying tension you’ve both danced around. but now, the way he’s speaking—completely unflustered, so damn confident—has you second-guessing everything. was I wrong? did he get over me?
the room feels like it’s shrinking, trying to read the shift in his demeanor. he’s not the awkward mess you’re used to. he’s subtly changed—grown into something more composed, more sure of himself—and it’s throwing you completely off balance.
"w-whoa, okay, that’s… bold," you manage to say, your voice faltering just a bit. you want to ask him if he’s talking about you, but something about the way he’s sitting there, totally relaxed, makes you hesitate. fuck, am I not the one he’s talking about?
you swallowed thickly, "so…" you start, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays your nervousness. "anyone i know?"
jay tilts his head slightly, his gaze still locked on yours, and for a split second, you think you see something flicker in his eyes—something familiar. "yeah," he says simply, his voice smooth and controlled. "you know her pretty well."
the words send your heart racing even faster, and now you’re caught in the middle of two conflicting thoughts: is it me? or has he really moved on?
you force a laugh, trying to break the tension that’s building in the room. "oh, so we’re playing guessing games now?" you say, hoping to keep the conversation light, but there’s a tightness in your chest that won’t go away.
just as you're about to press him further, heeseung suddenly shifts on the bed, letting out a groan as he stirs from his drunken slumber. the sound breaks the moment like a snap, making you both jump slightly.
jay glances at heeseung, his calm demeanor faltering for a second as the distraction pulls him back to reality. “shit,” he mutters under his breath, clearly frustrated by the interruption. he leans over, checking to make sure heeseung isn’t about to puke or do something equally as disastrous.
you, on the other hand, take the opportunity to let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. thank god for heeseung’s terrible timing, you think, but part of you can’t shake the frustration of the conversation being cut short. who the hell is he talking about?
heeseung groans again, rolling onto his back, his arm flopping dramatically over his face. “fuck… what’d I miss?” he slurs, still clearly out of it.
jay sighs, running a hand through his hair as he straightens up. “nothing, man. you’re fine. just… go back to sleep.”
you glance at jay, wondering if he’s relieved by the interruption or annoyed, but it’s hard to tell. his expression has shifted back to neutral, his earlier confidence tucked away behind a mask of casual indifference.
heeseung groans again, clearly not going back to sleep anytime soon, and you watch as jay leans back, his posture more relaxed, though you can tell he’s still tense underneath.
but heeseung, in his half-conscious state, has other plans. "don’t tell me you’re fucking jennie again, i swear to god," he mumbles, his words slurred but loud enough to slice through the tense air in the room.
you freeze, blinking at heeseung's unexpected outburst. jennie? again? your mind races, and you glance at jay, waiting for his reaction.
who the hell is jennie?
jay stiffens, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he quickly looks between you and heeseung. "heeseung," he mutters sharply, "shut up, man. you’re drunk."
"what?" heeseung slurs, barely managing to sit up slightly. "you said you were done. don’t get back into that shit."
jay looks mortified now, his eyes flicking to you, and you can see the panic settling in. great, so there’s another girl in the mix? your stomach tightens at the idea, and suddenly, the confidence he’d been showing earlier makes a lot more sense.
the silence that follows is deafening. you cross your arms, waiting, your heartbeat racing as you stare at jay, demanding an answer without saying a word.
jay clenches his jaw, running his hand through his hair, clearly scrambling to figure out how to explain this without making things worse. but how the fuck do you explain something like that?
the truth—that "jennie" isn’t a person at all, but a branded sex doll jay bought to… well, think of you—is something he could never, ever tell you. even just thinking about it makes his stomach twist. he feels a surge of guilt, embarrassment, and frustration, especially because the way you’re looking at him right now makes it clear you’re already jumping to conclusions.
but there’s no way he can let you keep thinking that jennie is some girl he’s hooking up with. he knows that this is the moment that’ll define the rest of the night and the rest of his life considering you were hanna's best friend and he girl he's loved for ages.
he takes a deep breath, clearly struggling to find the right words. "it’s… not what you think," he says, his voice strained, clearly aware of how bad this looks but unable to give you the truth just yet.
"no, y/n, no," jay blurts out, his voice more desperate now, standing quickly as you begin to move, forcing a smile as if you're trying to brush off the situation.
"it's fine, jay," you say, though the forced smile on your face doesn’t reach your eyes. "seriously, i do realize it's none of my business, sorry for being too nosy, i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."
you stand, fully intending to leave the room, the tension between you both now so thick it’s suffocating. you glance at heeseung, ready to use him as an excuse to get out of there, but before you can, jay reaches out, stopping you with a hand on your arm.
"no, wait," jay says, his voice strained but determined. fuck, he thinks, he has to say something—anything—before this spirals further out of control.
in a panic, jay’s eyes dart to heeseung, who’s still half out of it, sprawled on the bed. without warning, jay leans over and smacks him hard on the leg, making him jerk violently.
"ow, what the—" heeseung yelps, jolting awake, his head spinning as he finally takes in his surroundings. his eyes land on you, and a slow, confused grin spreads across his face. "oh… hey, y/n. didn’t realize you were here," he slurs, rubbing his eyes like he’s just now figuring out where he is.
"yeah, well, i'm here," you say, your voice clipped as you try to hide your frustration. you cross your arms, glancing at jay, who's still standing there, looking like he's barely holding it together.
"heeseung, man, you gotta help me out here," jay mutters under his breath, his hand still lingering on your arm, trying to figure out a way to salvage this whole mess.
heeseung, still half-drunk and confused, blinks at jay before looking between the two of you. "help you out?" he echoes, his voice thick with sleep. "with what?"
"just… don’t say anything else, alright?" jay groans, his face flushing with frustration. he doesn’t know how to explain this without making things worse, but heeseung’s loose tongue is the last thing he needs right now.
heeseung’s brows furrow in confusion as he tries to piece it together, but then his face lights up like he’s just remembered something. "ohhh, right! jennie!" he blurts out, still grinning like an idiot.
jay freezes, his hand dropping from your arm, and for a second, he looks like he might actually strangle heeseung.
"yeah, jennie," you say, your voice cutting through the air like a knife.
jay looks at you, his heart sinking. fuck. this is it. if he doesn’t explain this now, it’s over.
"heeseung, get the fuck out," jay snaps, his voice low and tense, frustration finally boiling over.
heeseung blinks at him, clearly still too drunk to understand the gravity of the situation, but even in his drunken state, he seems to realize that jay isn’t messing around. "uh… yeah, okay, man," he mumbles, swinging his legs off the bed and stumbling to his feet, barely managing to stay upright.
"seriously, heeseung, just go," jay adds, his tone sharp, eyes never leaving you as he waits for heeseung to get out of the room.
heeseung, still dazed, finally stumbles toward the door. "alright, alright, i'm going," he slurs, shooting you a sheepish grin as he passes by. "sorry for, uh… y'know." and with that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
the room falls into an unbearable silence, the air between you and jay thick with tension. you stand there, arms crossed, your heart racing, waiting for him to say something—anything to explain this jennie situation.
jay sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looks at the floor, clearly struggling with what to say next. "y/n…" he starts, his voice softer now, but still full of nerves. "i need to explain."
"yeah, you do," you say, your voice cold. "because right now, it sounds like there’s some girl named jennie who you’ve been fucking, and you’ve been lying to me about it this whole time."
you didn’t want to sound like a jealous girlfriend or anything, but the words came out sharper than you intended. god, you hadn’t meant it that way, but something about the whole situation got under your skin.
jay, however, didn’t even catch the implication. he was too hyper focused on making sure you didn’t get the wrong idea, too panicked about you thinking there was some actual girl involved. he didn’t even realize you were interested—actually interested—in him.
jay winces at the sharpness in your tone, his face reddening. "no, no… it’s not like that," he says quickly, taking a step toward you. "jennie’s not… she’s not a girl."
you blink, caught off guard by his words. "what do you mean she’s not a girl?"
jay rubs the back of his neck, clearly mortified. "she’s, uh… she’s a… sex doll."
your jaw drops, and for a second, you don’t even know how to respond. "a what?" you ask, your voice a mix of disbelief and shock.
jay’s face flushes even deeper. "yeah… i know. it sounds bad. but jennie’s not some girl i’ve been hooking up with. she’s just… this thing i got a while back, and… fuck, this is embarrassing."
the room goes silent again as you process what he just said, your mind racing. a sex doll? you’re not sure if you should laugh or feel weird about it, but suddenly the whole situation takes on a completely different light.
"so… jennie’s a doll?" you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around it.
jay nods, his face still burning red as he glances at you nervously. "yeah. and… it's stupid, i know," he mutters, shifting awkwardly, clearly wishing he could be anywhere but here.
"but i bought it, and… practiced?" his face scrunches up, like he’s wincing just at the thought of admitting it. he starts pacing back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly mortified by what he’s confessing.
"practiced?" you repeat, your eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. holy shit.
"yeah," jay mutters, his voice tight with embarrassment. he runs his hands through his hair, groaning as the weight of his confession settles in.
"y/n, can you leave? i’ve literally embarrassed myself in front of you, and there’s no way I can ever come back from this. laugh all you want, okay? just not here."
before you can respond, jay’s hands are already on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you toward the door. you’re too caught off guard to protest, still processing everything he just confessed. the awkwardness, the vulnerability, the tension—it’s all hitting you at once, and before you know it, you’re standing just outside his room.
“jay, wait—" you start, but he shakes his head, his face flushed as he tries to avoid eye contact.
"seriously, just go, y/n," he says, his voice rough as he closes the door partway.
he’s clearly mortified, and you can hear it in his voice. it’s not like the shy, awkward jay you’ve known—it’s different. heavier. but before you can say anything else, the door shuts in front of you with a soft click.
you stand there, staring at the closed door, your mind racing. the tension between you, the rawness of jay’s confession—it lingers in the air. you’re not laughing. you’re not even thinking of laughing. all you can think about is the vulnerability in his voice and the weight of everything he just laid out in front of you.
and fuck, if you didn’t find it hot. what the hell?
you’re standing there, outside jay’s door, and the only thing running through your mind is how his vulnerability, the embarrassment, the rawness of it all—it was unexpectedly hot. you bite your lip, feeling your pulse quicken as you replay the conversation in your head.
what the fuck is wrong with me? you should be laughing, cringing, anything but standing here with your heart racing like this. every word jay said, every embarrassed stammer, it’s all stuck in your head. it should feel gross, but fuck, it doesn’t. instead, it’s making your pulse quicken and your thoughts spiral.
he’s a pervert, and it’s making you wet. you’re standing here, outside his room, thinking about jennie.
your body reacts in a way you didn’t expect, and you hate it, but you can’t stop it. your mind runs wild with questions, wanting to know everything. what gets him off, what he’s into. this wasn’t the night you planned, but the way you feel now? you can't deny it. it’s wrong, but it’s fucking hot.
you knock on the door, breath shallow, your body betraying you as you try to get a grip. jay’s voice comes from the other side, shaky and tired, “y/n, just… go. please.”
the words hit harder than you expect. he doesn’t even open the door. he just shuts you out.
what did you expect? you think, backing away, feeling the sting of rejection. you pushed too hard. maybe he’s just too mortified to deal with it, maybe he thinks he’s fucked things up beyond repair. either way, he told you to leave, and you have no choice but to walk away.
you step back, away from his door, your pulse still hammering in your chest. you start to walk, heading back to the party, but your mind is still on jay—on everything he didn’t say, on everything you didn’t get to hear. fuck.
the following days, jay avoided you like the plague, barely making eye contact, leaving rooms when you entered, keeping his distance like he couldn’t bear to be near you. but it did nothing to stop the way your thoughts kept drifting back to that night. if anything, his avoidance only made it worse, made you obsess over it even more.
you couldn’t stop thinking about him—about what he’d confessed, about the doll, about what he wasn’t telling you.
you even googled the jennie brand, desperate to understand more about what jay had been using, what he had been thinking about all this time. and fuck, the results sent you spiraling. there were all sorts of types—full body, partial torsos, hyper-realistic models with intricate details.
it was almost overwhelming, seeing just how many versions there were. some were life-sized, some were just the lower half, and the descriptions made it clear these things were made to feel as close to real as possible.
your mind ran wild, picturing jay with one of them. which one did he get? was it a full-sized model that he could hold, position, fuck like it was real?
you couldn't stop yourself from imagining it—him in his room, with that doll, your name on his lips while he fucked it. your pulse quickened, your body betraying you with how much this idea turned you on. what the fuck is wrong with me? but you couldn’t stop. the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to know everything.
and the more jay avoided you, the worse it got. it wasn’t just the doll—it was him, everything he’d been hiding. fuck, you needed to talk to him, to get him to open up again,
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you were helping hanna load some groceries into the kitchen, bags of chips, bottles of tequila, mixers—everything you’d expect for one of her infamous parties. she was chattering away about the guest list when she suddenly paused, her face scrunching up.
"shit," she muttered, checking her phone. "i forgot the lemons for the tequila shots."
you raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at your lips. “kinda essential for tequila, don’t you think?”
hanna sighed dramatically, already grabbing her keys off the counter. “i know, i know. i’m such a mess. i’ll run to the store real quick and grab them. you cool here for a bit?”
you nodded, trying to keep your tone casual as you asked, “is jay home?”
hanna paused, looking over her shoulder. “nah, he’s not. he’s been out doing… whatever, avoiding people, i guess.” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “he’s been acting weird lately.”
weird, you thought. yeah, no shit.
"i’ll be back in an hour tops!" hanna called, heading out the door. as soon as it closed behind her, the house fell into a thick, heavy silence. you stood there in the kitchen for a moment, hands on the counter, the weight of everything suddenly pressing down on you.
jay’s not home. your heart raced at the thought.
your eyes flicked toward the hallway, where his room was. you knew you shouldn’t. this is wrong, you told yourself. but your curiosity had been eating at you for days—about him, about jennie, about what exactly jay had been hiding.
and now, here you were, in his house, alone. the temptation was gnawing at you, pulling you toward his room.
just a quick look, you rationalized, biting your lip. your feet moved before your brain could stop you, carrying you down the hallway, closer to jay’s door. you reached for the doorknob, hesitating for a moment as your heart pounded in your chest.
your mind continued to pull you in different directions, don’t do this. this is wrong. but fuck, you couldn’t help it. the need to know, to see for yourself, was too strong.
you twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open slowly, peeking inside. jay’s room was neat, not surprising, the clothes draped over the back of a chair and shoe boxes placeed neatly on one of his dressers, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. but what caught your attention was the nightstand next to his bed.
your pulse quickened as you stepped further into the room, your eyes locking onto the drawer. could it be in there?
you knew it was wrong but your hands were already moving, your fingers curling around the drawer handle, tugging it open.
you felt a surge of frustration as you rummaged through jay’s room, your heart pounding in your chest. where the fuck is it? you’d already checked the nightstand—nothing. under the bed? completely spotless, not even a speck of dust. goddamn, jay was keeping his room way cleaner than yours, that’s for sure.
your mind raced as you stood there, the last possible place calling out to you—his closet. you bit your lip, knowing you were going too far, but the curiosity was killing you. you couldn’t let it go. you stepped over to the closet and pulled the door open, trying to shuffle through the clothes without making it obvious that someone had been snooping.
the scent of his clothes hit you all at once, that familiar cologne mixed with something purely jay, and god, it went straight to your core. without thinking, you grabbed one of his shirts and brought it up to your nose, inhaling deeply.
what the fuck is wrong with you? you felt a wave of heat rush through you, your body reacting to the smell of him, the idea of him—the thought of what he does when he’s alone in here.
your fingers brushed against more hangers, searching, but with every passing second, you were losing hope. maybe he got rid of it, you thought, feeling a pang of disappointment. heeseung did say he threw it away. maybe he was too embarrassed to keep it after all that.
you sighed, letting go of the shirt as you stepped back from the closet. fuck, what were you even hoping to find? maybe this was all a mistake.
just then, your thoughts were cut short by the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut. your heart jumped into your throat. no way that’s hanna—the store was like thirty minutes away. it was impossible for her to be back already.
panic set in immediately. shit, shit, shit. you froze in place for a second, your mind racing as you tried to figure out what to do. you couldn’t let jay find you here, rummaging through his room like some creep.
your heart pounded in your chest as you heard jay’s footsteps nearing. you barely had time to think, instincts kicking in as you quickly darted toward the closet.
you slipped inside, shutting the door as quietly as possible, your breath shaky. good thing this closet has gaps between the wooden slats, you thought, praying he wouldn’t notice anything out of place.
your body was pressed tight against his clothes, the lingering scent of him overwhelming your senses again. the heat between your legs intensified as you tried to focus, tried to calm your racing heart, but it was impossible. the thrill of being caught, the tension in the air—it was all too much.
from your hiding spot, you could see through the narrow slits, watching as jay entered the room. his face was unreadable, but he didn’t look happy. he seemed tense, he stood in the middle of the room for a moment, eyes scanning the area.
shit, shit. you held your breath, trying to stay as still as possible, your body pressed up against his hanging clothes. your mind raced, wondering if he knew—if somehow, he could sense that you’d been snooping, that you were still in here.
jay walked over to the nightstand, his back turned to you as he opened the drawer, rifling through it like he was looking for something. his movements were quick, agitated, and for a moment, you thought maybe he was going to leave again.
but instead, he stood there, his hand lingering on the edge of the nightstand, his shoulders tense. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath, so low you almost didn’t hear it.
you swallowed hard, biting your lip as you watched him, your heart still racing. does he know? you had no idea what was going to happen next, but the anticipation, the danger of it, was making your entire body hum with tension.
jay didn’t seem to notice anything suspicious at all, his tension dissolving when his phone buzzed in his pocket. you held your breath, your pulse hammering in your ears as the sound felt too loud in the cramped closet space.
your hand instinctively clasped over your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your own breathing. shit, calm down, you told yourself, but fuck, it felt like you were going to give yourself away any second.
"yeah?" jay answered, voice low, irritation lacing his tone.
heeseung’s voice came through the phone, loud enough for you to catch snippets of the conversation. “dude, what the fuck? you ditched class without even telling me? we could’ve bailed together!”
jay sighed heavily, clearly agitated. "i didn’t want to hang out. i just want to be alone right now."
you watched through the narrow slits of the closet door as jay pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing back and forth in frustration. fuck, this was a disaster.
you were crouched in his closet like a fucking lunatic, and the tension was making everything worse. jay's mood, your presence, the fact that he didn’t know you were right there—it all made the air thicker, heavier.
"yeah, well, next time fucking tell me, man," heeseung barked, clearly pissed. "you’re being weird as shit lately."
"i’m fine," jay snapped, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. "i just need some space."
you could feel his agitation rolling off him in waves, making you hold your breath even harder, terrified that one wrong move would give you away. his words stung more than you wanted to admit. space. was this because of you?
jay ended the call with a sharp "later," his frustration palpable as he tossed his phone onto the bed. the device landed with a soft thud, but you were too focused on him to care about anything else.
with a grunt, jay slung his backpack off his shoulder, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. he stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair, his agitation visible in every tense movement of his body. then, without warning, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion.
you froze, your eyes widening as you took in the sight of him. damn. jay was lean, muscles subtly defined in a way that caught you off guard. the soft light in the room highlighted the curve of his shoulders, the smooth skin of his back, the way his chest rose and fell with each agitated breath. your heart pounded harder as you stared, the heat between your legs intensifying.
it was impossible not to gawk at him. he was right there, shirtless, and you were hidden just a few feet away, watching like some kind of perverted voyeur.
jay muttered something under his breath, clearly still pissed about the call with heeseung, but you weren’t paying attention to his words. all you could focus on was his body, the way his muscles shifted as he moved. you bit your lip hard, trying to keep from making any noise, trying to control your breathing as your gaze roamed over him.
your thoughts were racing, a whirlwind of desire and guilt and sheer panic that he might catch you at any moment.
jay moved across the room, and you snapped out of your daze just in time to see him reach down toward the bottom of his dresser. is that a shoe box? you squinted, straining to see what the hell he was doing, still trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible in your cramped hiding spot.
he pulled out the box, staring at it for a moment before he opened the lid, revealing something inside that you couldn’t quite see from your angle. but whatever it was, it clearly rattled him.
“fucking hell,” jay muttered under his breath, the frustration clear in his voice. he stared down at the item inside the box like it held some kind of power over him, like just seeing it brought all that pent-up emotion crashing to the surface.
your heart pounded in your chest, curiosity eating away at you. what the hell is in that box? you bit your lip, your mind racing. it had to be something personal, something connected to everything he’d been hiding. your pulse quickened even more, your thoughts spinning wildly.
was that it? jennie?
jay ran a hand through his hair again, exhaling sharply, his body tense as if he were warring with himself internally. you could see the weight of whatever was going on inside his head, the way he seemed on edge, like he was at his breaking point.
you stayed perfectly still, not daring to move, not daring to make a sound. your heart was racing, your body reacting in ways you didn’t expect, torn between the thrill of being this close to his secret and the realization that you were seeing a side of jay no one else had.
jay pulled it out of the box, and fuck, there it was—jennie. the damn sex doll. except, it wasn’t a full-sized model like you’d imagined. it was just the lower half, tiny, just the silicone molded vagina and ass, small enough to fit in his hands.
your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him stare at it, almost like he was examining it for the first time. the way he looked at it—fuck, it was like nostalgia, like there were memories attached to this goddamn thing.
the little breath he let out, the way he turned it over in his hands, the silicone object slightly bouncing as he held it—was he going to use it?
your jaw dropped, hypnotized.
jay's fingers moved slowly, spreading the lips of the doll’s pussy open, staring inside like he was mesmerized. oh my god. your breath caught in your throat, trembling as you watched, his hands stretching the silicone flesh, spreading it as if he was testing its elasticity.
your entire body froze, torn between the raw arousal pooling deep in your core and the sheer disbelief that you were witnessing this. what the fuck, that was so hot for no reason.
your breath caught in your throat, and you nearly let out a whimper as you watched jay slide two fingers into the silicone flesh, stroking it slowly. the sight was enough to send a wave of heat straight through you, pooling between your legs. his fingers moved with practiced ease, like this wasn’t the first time he’d done this, like he knew exactly how to make it feel real, even though it was just a damn toy.
fuck, you thought, your entire body trembling. he’s really doing it.
jay’s face was focused, almost intent, as he worked his fingers inside the doll, his jaw clenched like he was trying to keep his composure. the little noises of the silicone as he moved—it was fucking obscene, and yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away. every part of your body felt like it was on fire, like the tension was going to drive you over the edge just from watching him.
his thumb brushed over the entrance, spreading the lips wider as his fingers pushed deeper, and you bit down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound.
the image of him, fingers deep inside that tiny doll, stroking it like he was getting ready for more—your breath shallow as you tried to stay perfectly still, terrified of making any noise, but it was so hard not to react.
your body was betraying you, the heat between your legs making you press your thighs together, desperate for relief. you were watching something so raw, so private, and the fact that you were witnessing it in secret only made it worse.
jay sighed, pulling his fingers out of the doll, the slick noise almost too loud in the quiet room. as he moved to the bed, still holding jennie in his hands. he didn’t rush; there was something methodical about the way he moved, like this was just another routine. he laid back against the headboard, his shirtless body stretched out, the sex doll resting casually on his stomach, like it was no big deal.
your mind was spinning. fuck, he was just lounging there, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a tiny fucking sex doll laying on top of him. your legs trembled, heat coursing through you as you tried to comprehend the absurdity of it all, but also how insanely hot it was in a way you couldn’t explain.
his fingers absentmindedly toyed with the edge of the silicone, stroking it occasionally while he scrolled through whatever was on his phone. his face was relaxed, almost casual, like this was something he did often—just him and the fucking doll. your body was betraying you again, the throb between your legs becoming unbearable as you watched him, completely mesmerized.
you watched, barely able to breathe, as he smiled slightly at something on his phone. his thumbs moved quickly, typing away—probably responding to something or commenting on a post.
then you heard it: heeseung’s voice, loud and obnoxious, screaming some game jargon, the sounds of gunfire and explosions cutting through the air. of course, you thought, recognizing the chaos. heeseung had probably posted some video of his latest gameplay, and jay seemed to be getting a kick out of it.
then, suddenly, jay’s face grew somber, and you froze in place, holding your breath. your heart nearly stopped when you heard your own voice boom from his phone.
"LET’S PARTYY!!" you and hanna’s voices echoed, loud and clear—it was the video you’d posted earlier when you were out shopping for tonight, holding bottles of tequila, grinning like idiots. oh no, you thought, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. he was watching your story.
his expression shifted, his smile fading into something more complicated, like he was torn between emotions he wasn’t sure how to process. you saw him sigh, his fingers pausing as he stared at the screen for a moment, biting his lip in thought. his eyes then darted down to jennie—and your breath hitched when you saw him squeeze the silicone doll tighter, his knuckles whitening slightly.
shit, you thought, trembling, feeling a rush of heat go straight through you as you watched him. the weight of everything became almost unbearable. he’s thinking about you. you could feel it. he was sitting there, staring at your story, your voice ringing in his ears, and here he was, gripping the fucking sex doll as if that could somehow make the tension inside him go away
and just like that, jay cursed under his breath before shoving his phone aside and ridding himself of his pants in one swift motion. "y/n," he groaned, the sound muffled as he buried his face in his pillow. your name on his lips, so raw, sent a shockwave through you that made your entire body tremble. fuck.
he shifted onto his stomach, laying there with jennie still clutched in his hands, bringing it closer to his face. you could see the way his muscles tensed and relaxed, like he was trying to keep control but couldn’t. his fingers traced over the silicone as if it were you, his frustration and desire clear in every movement. he still scrolled through his phone for a moment, but it was aimless now, just something to distract him while the thoughts in his head spun out of control.
he groaned your name again, this time a little louder, his breath ragged as he gripped jennie tighter. your heart pounded so loud you were sure he could hear it, your entire body frozen as you watched, hidden in the closet. the tension in the room, the raw desire spilling from him.
you almost gagged, your hand instinctively flying to your mouth as you watched jay shamelessly dive in, pressing his face against the silicone pussy lips of the doll.
he licked it, his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, like he was imagining it was you instead. the sound of him sighing in satisfaction, mixed with the obscene wet noises from the doll, sent a shiver through your spine.
jay was fully immersed, his body tense and rigid as he buried his face deeper, licking slowly and deliberately, like he was savoring every second of it. his hands gripped jennie tightly, pulling it closer as if he couldn’t get enough, his lips dragging over the silicone with such intensity that it made your stomach twist. fuck, he’s really into this.
you could see it on his face—eyes shut tight like he was lost in some fantasy he couldn’t pull himself out of.
jay groaned again, shifting suddenly as if the pressure inside him had built up too much. with a strangled grunt, he propped himself up on his knees, reaching for something on his nightstand. your breath hitched when you saw the bottle in his hands—lube. fuck, how had you missed that? the bottle wasn’t even labeled, just some clear liquid, but jay handled it with ease, like this was routine. wow, subtle, you thought, biting your lip as you watched.
he squeezed a generous amount into his palm, slicking it over jennie with slow, deliberate movements. his fingers teased the silicone clit, even flicking it as he smothered the doll in lube, his breathing growing heavier. when he slipped his fingers back in, he let out a dreamy sigh, his head tilting back slightly, lost in the sensation.
and then, finally, jay pulled his cock out. your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. god, he was big. thick, meaty, his cock slapping against his lower stomach with a heavy, wet sound. he was neatly groomed, the veins running down his shaft prominent, and the sight of him—so raw, so exposed—made your head spin.
your pulse raced as you watched him stroke himself, his fingers spreading the lube over his cock, making it glisten in the low light of his room. every movement was slow, and fuck, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. the heat between your legs was unbearable now, your body reacting to every single detail, to the way his muscles flexed, the way his breath hitched as he touched himself.
jay lined himself up with jennie, groaning your name under his breath again, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.
"y/n," jay moaned, the sound of your name falling from his lips as he hovered over jennie, teasing the head of his cock against the slick, wet folds of the doll. "shit, you want it?" he groaned, his voice low and strained, full of pent-up desire.
your heart pounded in your chest, the heat between your legs unbearable as you watched him, his movements slow, teasing. your fingers trembled as they slid down, almost against your will, slipping under the waistband of your pants.
the sight of him, the way he was moaning your name, the way he was fucking thinking about you—it was driving you insane.
jay bit his lip, his body tense as he pushed just the tip inside, groaning louder as his hips shifted. "fuck, y/n, you’d feel so good around me," he murmured, his words making your breath hitch. your fingers moved instinctively, rubbing against your aching clit as you watched him, your body desperate for release.
you couldn’t stop. you were caught in the heat of the moment, every word he said, every movement of his hips, making your entire body throb with need. his hand gripped the base of his cock as he slowly slid deeper into the doll, the wet sound of it obscene in the quiet room.
your body on fire as you mirrored his movements, your fingers working faster against yourself.
"god, y/n," jay groaned, his hips moved in a slow, almost torturous rhythm, his cock disappearing into the slick silicone, but all he could think about was how you’d feel wrapped around him. his head tipped back, eyes closed, completely lost in the fantasy of you.
"you're so fucking good," jay moaned, his voice ragged as he thrust deeper into jennie, but in his mind, it was you. every movement, every sound, was for you.
your fingers moved faster, desperate now, matching the pace of his thrusts. the way he was groaning your name, the raw need in his voice.
"fuck, y/n," jay groaned, his hand gripping the edge of the bed as he sped up, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate. "you’d take me so good, wouldn’t you?" he muttered, his voice thick with lust. he was losing himself.
you bit your lip, trying to keep from making a sound as you continued to watch him. his back arched, muscles flexing as he pumped faster, harder, the wet sounds of him fucking jennie filling the room. your name fell from his lips again, a low growl, and it sent a shiver straight through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
you’re so fucking good, his voice echoing in your head.
jay whimpered, his pace growing faster, more desperate, the bed creaking beneath him as his hips snapped forward. you could practically see the head of his cock pushing so deep into the tiny silicone hole that it nearly bulged through the other side. he was literally fucking through the damn thing.
you imagined what it would be like if he were inside you instead. if he could do that to a toy, what would it feel like to have him that deep, to be stretched out around him?
he let out another strangled moan, his hands gripping the doll tighter as he drove himself harder, his entire body trembling.
"y/n- shit, fuck yeah," he groaned, his voice shaking, and the way he said your name made your body ache. if he was inside you, he’d ruin you, fuck you so deep you’d feel him everywhere, fill you up until you couldn’t take anymore. the thought made your thighs clench together, your fingers moving faster as you imagined him pounding into you, that same desperate need in his voice.
"you’d take it, wouldn’t you?" he panted, his breath ragged, his hips slamming against jennie as his cock drove deeper. "like how i'm stretching you out? sunghoon could never fuck you like this."
"you want my cum?" jay groaned, you were drenched, the heat between your legs unbearable as you imagined being in jennie's position, taking every inch of him, his cock stretching you out, filling you up.
your hand shook as you carefully pulled down your cotton shorts and panties, your heart racing with the fear of being caught but too far gone to stop. you leaned back, pressing into his coats to muffle any noise you might make. the soft fabric cushioned your body, but your mind was miles away, completely fixated on jay—his moans, his body, the way he was losing himself.
you were dripping, your fingers sliding through your slickness, the pressure building as you bit down hard on the edge of your shirt, using it to stifle any noise that might slip out. so fucking close, to being caught driving you wild.
through the gaps in the wooden slats, you peeked at him, his muscles straining as he thrust harder. "love my cock?" he panted, his voice thick and desperate, "yeah, i always fill you up so good don't i? tell me you fucking love it."
your body jerked as his words sent shockwaves through you, you could almost feel him inside you.
jay’s hips snapped forward again, his breaths ragged as he neared the edge. he’s close, you thought, biting harder into your shirt, your body shaking as you rode the edge with him, knowing you were about to fall apart just as he was.
"gonna let me cum inside that pussy, huh? you want it?" jay's voice was rough, desperate, the words pushing you over the edge as your fingers thrust in and out of your soaked cunt. your eyes squeezed shut, your body trembling as you lost yourself in the fantasy of him filling you up, his cock stretching you just like he was with jennie.
but then, without thinking, you let out a soft, breathless moan. "please," you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.
shit.
the sound hung in the air, and in an instant, everything stopped. the wet, obscene sounds of jay fucking the doll, his grunts and heavy breathing—all of it came to a sudden halt.
your heart dropped, panic flooding your body as you slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes flying open in shock.
you totally fucked up, your breath caught in your throat as you stayed completely still, frozen in place, hoping beyond hope that he hadn’t heard you.
but it was too late. you could hear jay shift, the silence between you deafening. his breathing had changed—quieter, more alert.
"who’s there?" his voice was low, edged with confusion, and you knew he had heard you. you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, your entire body trembling with fear and embarrassment.
you heard the unmistakable sound of shuffling—jay was moving, probably scrambling to put some clothes on. panic seized you, and you dug yourself deeper into the closet, your body pressing against the fabric of his coats in a pathetic attempt to hide. your heart raced, pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it through the door.
then, the closet door creaked open slowly, and your eyes went wide in sheer terror. jay stood there, half-naked, only in his boxers, a fucking bat clutched in one hand. his hair was a mess, his chest still glistening with sweat, but the most absurd part was that his cock was still hard, tenting his boxers like he hadn’t come down from the moment at all.
"who the fuck is in here?" his voice was low, edged with tension as his eyes scanned the closet. he hadn’t spotted you yet, but it was only a matter of time. your entire body trembled, pressed against the back of the closet, trying to make yourself as small as possible.
and then, his eyes landed on you.
jay froze, his expression shifting from confusion to sheer disbelief. "y/n?" his voice cracked slightly, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. the bat lowered, forgotten in his hand as his brain struggled to catch up.
you were caught—there was no way out now.
jay’s eyes locked onto yours, and in that split second, the disbelief on his face morphed into something darker—something between confusion, anger, and sheer disbelief.
“y/n,” he growled, his voice low, dangerous. he let the bat drop to the floor with a dull thud, stepping closer to where you were crouched, his broad, still-sweaty chest rising and falling heavily. his body towered over you, cock still rock-hard and tenting his boxers, the tension in the room suffocating.
“what the fuck are you doing in my closet?” his voice was tight, like he was holding back a storm of emotions—rage, shock, but there was something else too. desire. his eyes flickered with it, almost daring you to explain yourself.
you were trembling, mouth dry, scrambling for words but coming up with nothing. fuck, you were pinned in place, completely trapped. his messy hair, the wild look in his eyes, the way his body practically radiated heat—it all made the situation unbearable. you swallowed hard, still pressing yourself further against the coats, like there was anywhere to hide now.
“i… i heard something,” you stammered, knowing how ridiculous it sounded, especially as his gaze dropped to your shorts, which were still tangled around your thighs. the way his eyes darkened when he saw how exposed you were sent a wave of humiliation and arousal crashing over you.
“bullshit.” jay’s voice was thick, his body stepping closer, looming over you. “you were fucking watching me, weren’t you?” his tone was accusatory, but it wasn’t just anger. you could hear the edge of it—the thrill. he was piecing everything together, and as the realization set in, his breathing deepened, his cock twitching in his boxers.
you tried to speak, to deny it, but your voice caught in your throat as he crouched down, his face inches from yours now. “you were hiding in my closet, getting off while I fucked a doll, and now you’re trying to pretend you weren’t?” his voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with something dark and dangerous.
"sorry, i know how this looks," you stammer, your voice barely a whisper as the weight of the moment crashes down on you. your words hang in the air, fragile and trembling as you watch him, feeling the heat radiating off his body. but it’s not enough—not even close—to stop what’s about to happen.
jay’s gaze darkens, his eyes lowering, and then he sees it—really sees it. your shorts are pulled down mid-thigh, your panties already pushed to the side, leaving nothing to the imagination. the briefest glimpse of your pussy lips catches his eye, and you can see his jaw clench. his face tightens, and for a second, he just stares before rolling his eyes, like the fucked-up situation had just reached another level.
“fuck,” jay mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process what he’s seeing.
“you’re… unbelievable,” he says, voice tight as his eyes roam over your body. it’s not judgmental, not anymore. it’s a mixture of frustration and desire, the kind that’s simmering just under the surface, waiting to explode. “i thought i was fucked up… but this?”
his hand twitches at his side like he’s debating what to do, but you can tell—he’s already made up his mind. the heat between you two is undeniable, and shit, you can feel the way your own body is betraying you, the slickness between your thighs only making this more intense.
“come here,” jay growled, his voice rough, commanding, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. his dick was still straining hard against his boxers, thick and heavy, the outline so obvious it made your breath hitch.
your mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the situation, but nothing clicked. this was jay—the same jay who blushes when he talks to you, who’s always awkward and shy—and now look at him. his eyes were dark, filled with something so raw and intense that it made your stomach churn with a twisted kind of excitement.
you were practically shaking the whole time, and you didn’t know if it was from fear or the undeniable desire coiling tighter and tighter inside of you. you should be running. you should be pulling up your shorts, getting the hell out of here. but you couldn’t. not when his eyes were locked onto you like that.
“what are you waiting for?” jay’s voice was low, dangerous, and fuck, it sent shivers down your spine. his tone, his body language—he was different now, no longer the blushing boy who used to fumble his words around you. this was the real him, the one who’d been hiding beneath that awkward exterior all this time.
you swallowed hard, your legs feeling weak as you stood there—your pussy still slick, the heat pooling deep inside you, pulsing with the same desire you could see in jay’s eyes.
“i’m not asking again,” jay said, his voice tightening, frustration and need clear on his face.
jay walked back to his bed, each step deliberate, slow, like he was giving you time to take in what was happening. he sat down on the edge, his elbows resting on his knees, his dark eyes locked onto yours. his gaze was intense, unwavering, filled with something raw and predatory.
“sit here with me,” he said, his voice low, steady, but there was a challenge in it. the way he was looking at you—it made your pulse race, your legs feel like jelly.
part of you screamed to leave, to stop this before it went too far, but another part of you—the bigger part—wanted nothing more than to follow him, to see where this would lead.
jay’s cock was still straining against his boxers, the outline prominent as he sat there, waiting, daring you to close the space between you. his eyes flicked down to your exposed thighs, taking in how your panties were still pulled to the side, how ready you were, and his lips twitched, almost like he knew what was going through your head.
the way he was looking at you, commanding you without even having to raise his voice—it made your entire body ache. your heart pounded in your chest as you hesitated for a moment, your legs trembling as you took a shaky step forward.
jay didn’t move, just watched you intently, his elbows still resting on his knees, waiting. “closer,” he muttered, his voice even rougher now, his patience running thin.
and without even thinking, you moved. you reached down, hands shaking as you tried to pull your shorts back up, the embarrassment burning your face. your mind screamed, but your body was on autopilot. you were halfway there, about to cover yourself up, when jay’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
you couldn’t even dare to look at him, feeling the weight of embarrassment swallowing you whole, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum.
jay’s hands hovered over your thighs, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin. his breath was deep, ragged, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to believe this was really happening. fuck, it was like he couldn’t even believe you were standing in front of him, shorts halfway down, so vulnerable, so exposed.
“stop. don’t pull them up.”
his words were sharp, commanding, leaving no room for argument. your hands froze, still gripping the waistband of your shorts, your breath catching in your throat. the intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you slowly let go of the fabric, letting your shorts hang awkwardly around your hips.
jay’s gaze was dark, hungry, roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. his eyes lingered on the space between your thighs, the way your panties were still askew, showing more than you ever meant to. he leaned back slightly, his elbows still on his knees, but his entire posture screamed control.
“come here,” he said again, softer this time, but no less demanding
his eyes flickered, tracing every inch of your body, and for a split second, you could see it in his face—the disbelief, the hunger, the way he was completely entranced by you. his fingers twitching as they hovered near your thighs, like he was waiting for permission, like he was afraid to break the moment.
and then his eyes dropped lower, down between your legs. could he smell how wet you were?
the realization hit you hard, making your entire body burn with humiliation and need. you were soaked, dripping with arousal, and it was impossible to hide. his breathing deepened even more, nostrils flaring as his eyes darkened, the tension between you snapping tight like a rubber band about to break.
“fuck,” jay muttered under his breath, his voice low and strained, almost reverent as he took you in. his fingers finally grazed the soft skin of your thigh, so gentle it almost didn’t feel real. “you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured.
jay’s hands moved with purpose now, one of them sliding between your thighs, fingers brushing dangerously close to where you were dripping. his other hand gripped your inner thigh firmly, pushing it to the side, spreading you open to get a better view. fuck, his eyes darkened as he stared, taking in the sight of you exposed for him.
his thumb brushed over the slick fabric of your panties, grazing your swollen lips, and the sensation sent a shockwave through your body. your breath hitched, your legs trembling as you tried to stay steady, but it was impossible with the way he was touching you, the way his gaze devoured every inch of you.
the embarrassment, the intensity of the moment—it was too much, but fuck, you wanted more.
"care to tell me why you were spying on me?" jay muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his thumb grazed your slick skin. the sensation made you tremble, your legs barely holding you steady. he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he stared up at you, his eyes dark with amusement and lust.
"i'm dying to know," he added, his voice low, teasing, as his thumb pressed harder, sliding against your swollen clit.
you couldn’t speak, your mind spinning from the intensity of his touch, from the weight of his question. you knew he could see exactly how much you wanted this—even though you shouldn’t.
"i… i'm sorry…" you stammered as jay’s thumb circled your clit again, sending shockwaves through you, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence.
he smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered you were, how much control he had over you in this moment. "come on," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "you can do better than that, can’t you? tell me why you were spying on me."
your breath hitched, your mind spinning, but all you could feel was his hand between your thighs, the slick heat pooling there, and the way he was pushing you to the edge.
"i said i’m sorry," you whispered, your voice shaky, barely able to get the words out as jay’s thumb pressed harder on your clit.
jay’s smirk widened, his fingers still working you over, teasing you relentlessly. "sorry doesn’t explain why you were spying on me," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his other hand gripped your thigh tighter, keeping you in place. "but I guess I don’t mind the answer as long as you keep squirming like this."
he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, eyes flickering with something darker. "go on, tell me more. unless you’d rather just show me how sorry you are."
"fuck, jay, wait," you gasped, trying to shove his arms away, panic and pleasure swirling together as your hands pushed against him. but jay was stronger, his grip firm and unyielding as he fought against your weak attempts to stop him. his fingers dug into your thigh, pulling you closer, nearly making you stumble, but before you could find your footing, he locked your thighs in his arms, trapping you in place.
your heart raced, and you barely managed to steady yourself by planting one foot on the edge of his bed. the shift in position sent a jolt of heat through your body, his face dangerously close to where you were slick and exposed.
"you’re not going anywhere," jay muttered, voice low and dark, his breath hot against your inner thigh as he held you there, his grip relentless.
"i'm waiting," jay growled, his voice low and dripping with impatience as his fingers gripped you tighter, pulling you even closer. "tell me, why were you spying on me?"
"did you like it?" jay asked, his voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his grip on your thighs tightening. "how I fucked jennie?"
the question hit you like a shockwave, your breath catching in your throat. you couldn’t answer, couldn’t even look at him.
he smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you, the way you were unable to form words. "yeah," he muttered, his voice dark and taunting. "i think you did. the way you were watching, hiding in my closet, getting yourself off. you liked it, didn’t you?"
your body responded even as your mind screamed for control, the heat between your legs pulsing harder with each word he said.
"wow, aren’t you confident," you managed to say, but your voice shook, the words were meant to sound teasing, defiant, but they came out weak, unconvincing as you tried to regain some control over the situation.
jay’s smirk only deepened at your pathetic attempt to push back. his eyes were locked on you, dark and full of desire. "oh, come on," he muttered, voice low and mocking as his hands traced your trembling thighs. "don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy every fucking second."
his fingers slid dangerously close to where you were slick and exposed, making your breath hitch. "i can feel how much you liked it," he continued, voice rougher now. "you’re soaking, and all because you watched me fuck a toy, imagining it was you."
"but it was me," you weakly bite back, the words barely leaving your lips as your body trembled under his touch.
jay's fingers, which had been teasing your pussy, suddenly stilled. he pulled them back slowly, staring at you with disbelief, his jaw clenched tight. "you are so fucking unbelievable," he growled, voice low and thick with frustration.
then, without warning, he thrust a finger into you roughly, but the slickness of your folds made it glide in smoothly, the feeling almost too good. you let out a shaky breath, your body arching toward him involuntarily.
"first," he hissed, his voice full of raw intensity, "you make me fucking admit that I jack myself off with a sex doll, just for you. the person I've been wanting for years now, making me feel like a fucking loser. embarrassed. fucking ashamed. like I'm some kind of pervert."
his finger flicked deeper inside you, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your core, and you gasped, biting your lip hard to keep from crying out.
"and then you," he continued, his words dripping with disbelief and lust, "you end up in my closet, watching me. are you a fucking perv, too?"
yes, you thought, the word echoing in your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud.
jay’s eyes bore into you, his finger still buried deep inside you, but he wasn’t moving, just staring, his voice low and dangerous as he asked, “are you here to embarrass me? is that it? is that why you were spying on me—to make fun of me?”
his words cut deep, and you could feel the weight of his frustration, the vulnerability he’d just exposed to you twisted into something dark. he thought you were here to humiliate him? but it couldn’t be further from the truth.
you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. you didn’t know how to explain that this wasn’t about making fun of him—it was about something far more fucked up.
“because you know about my stupid crush on you, right?” jay’s voice was dripping with frustration, his finger still inside you, but unmoving. “is this your way of getting back at me? laughing at how pathetic i am? you think it's funny?”
his words stung, his tone laced with anger and vulnerability, he thought you were here to humiliate him, to make fun of the fact that he had been harboring a crush on you for years. that all of this—his shame, his embarrassment—was something you found amusing. fuck, you could see it in his eyes, how much this hurt him, how much he thought you were here to tear him apart.
"jay, no," you finally whispered, your voice shaky, barely audible. "i didn’t come here to make fun of you." your breath was catching in your throat, the shame in his voice cutting through you, making your heart ache. "it’s not like that… i—"
but before you could finish, his finger twitched inside you, rougher this time, and you gasped, your body betraying you once again, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "then what the fuck is it, huh?" his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with a mix of anger and lust, his eyes narrowing. "you wanna tell me what the fuck this is, if it’s not to humiliate me?" "i got curious," you hiccuped, your voice shaky, barely holding together under the weight of the moment. "i… never thought it was funny… i thought it was hot."
"i wanted to know what jennie looked like… what you were into… i… shit—" you struggled to get the words out, your breath catching as jay's fingers twitched inside you again, this time with more intent.
your voice trembled, barely holding it together as you tried to explain. "i wanted to know what turned you on." the words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and honest, cutting through the tension like a blade. your heart pounded in your chest as jay froze, his eyes widening just slightly, disbelief flickering across his face.
"what?" he growled, his voice low, rough, the anger starting to shift into something else entirely. his finger inside you twitched, but this time it wasn’t out of frustration—it was from the shock of your confession.
"i thought it was fucking hot," you whispered again, your voice barely more than a breath, the shame still heavy but mixed with the undeniable arousal coursing through you. "watching you… thinking about how badly you wanted me. fuck, jay… i wanted it, too."
"i'm just a loser, aren't i?" jay’s voice was rough, his breath heavy as his fingers curled inside you, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. "why would you…?" he trailed off, his voice breaking slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying, or what was happening between the two of you.
"the way you ignored me for years," jay muttered, his voice strained with a mix of frustration and something deeper, rawer. "i liked you so much, y/n. fuck. you made me so fucking nervous." his fingers stilled inside you for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, full of emotions he had clearly been holding back for too long.
you shook your head, barely able to keep your thoughts straight as his thumb rubbed your clit, pushing you further toward the edge. "you’re not a loser," you whispered, your voice shaky, trying to hold on to whatever control you had left. "fuck, jay, I never thought that."
"do you promise you're not just here because you wanted to see how pathetic I am?" jay's voice cracked slightly, and when you looked at him, you saw his eyes were glassy, tears he was trying so hard to hold back. the sight of him like that—so vulnerable, so raw—made your chest tighten.
you frowned, shaking your head, your heart breaking at the thought that he believed that. "jay, no… it’s not like that," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "i swear. i’m not here to make you feel like shit. i’m not here to laugh at you."
his fingers loosened their grip on your thigh, his expression faltering as he struggled to process your words. you could see the pain etched across his face, years of doubt and self-loathing surfacing in that one question.
his hands loosened their grip on your thigh, and you moved to sit beside him on the bed, the tension between you still thick but shifting into something deeper, more vulnerable.
jay’s eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to tell him that this wasn’t some twisted game. you could see the uncertainty etched across his face, the way he was still bracing himself for the worst.
"jay," you whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek gently. the moment your fingers touched his skin, he shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, like he couldn’t believe this was real. his breath hitched, and when he opened his eyes again, they were filled with something raw—years of pent-up emotion, the pain of thinking he’d never have you.
jay’s expression twisted, like he was struggling to absorb everything, your touch, your voice. his lip trembled slightly, and he looked at you like he still couldn’t trust that you were really here with him. "why now?" he whispered, voice barely audible, like he was afraid of the answer.
you leaned in closer, your forehead resting gently against his. "because i didn’t know how much you meant to me until now," you admitted, your voice soft, but full of the truth. "and fuck, jay… i didn’t realize how much i wanted this."
"sure, you’re kind of awkward," you say with a soft smile, your thumb still brushing against his cheek. "but i’ve been seeing you, jay. i don’t think you ever realized."
he blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise, the vulnerability still there in his eyes, but now mixed with something else—hope.
"i’ve even been talking to hanna about hooking up with you," you admitted with a nervous laugh, watching his reaction carefully. "crazy, right?"
jay’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "you… what?" he stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief. his breath hitched, and he blinked rapidly, clearly processing what you’d just confessed. "yeah," you laughed softly, the sincerity in your voice making him listen even more closely. "like, it started out as a light joke between hanna and me, but then I realized I was genuinely interested in you. you were so cute, jay. always blushing, stuttering around me." you paused, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you both. his eyes never left yours, the intensity in them raw and real.
"but before i could actually act on it," you continued, your voice softer now, "you started seeing that girl. and if i wasn’t sure about what i wanted before, fuck, i knew the second i got jealous."
jay blinked, processing your words, his face a mix of disbelief, "no way," he muttered, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
"yeah," you nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “although i did start to doubt your feelings for me when you got your cherry popped, i’ve known for a while. it was hard to admit to myself, though. i thought you’d finally moved on because… well, i wasn’t giving you any time of day.”
jay blinked, taking in your words, his expression shifting as you continued. “but i knew, jay. you weren’t exactly subtle,” you teased gently, a small smile tugging at your lips.
he let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. "i thought i was being so careful. i was so sure i was hiding it," he muttered, clearly embarrassed. "but i guess i was just making it worse."
"yeah," you chuckled softly. "but in a way, that’s what made you so… you. it’s why i started to notice you more. because underneath all the awkwardness, there was something real. and now, here we are."
"then when i found out that you have a jennie," you whispered, your voice barely audible, remembering the rush of that moment. "i… couldn’t stop thinking about it." the memory played in your mind—the way your pulse raced when you stood outside his door, the thoughts that swirled in your head.
jay's eyes widened, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief flashing across his face. "shit," he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky, "that's so fucking hot."
the confession hung heavy between you, the air thick with tension, but there was no mistaking the desire in his gaze. his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out, to close the space between you, but he held back for a second, just staring at you, processing everything.
“i never thought you’d… even think about that,” he said, his voice rough with disbelief. “fuck, i thought i’d scared you off for good when you found out.”
"well, you didn't," you whispered, shaking your head, your voice soft but firm. the intensity of the moment hung heavy between you, the tension thick and electric.
you leaned in slightly, your hand still resting on his cheek, your thumb gently brushing his skin. "i wasn't scared off… if anything, it made me want you more."
jay’s breath hitched at your words, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt, but all he found was sincerity. his hands twitched, and he finally let himself close the gap between you, his lips dangerously close to yours, as if waiting for permission.
"shit," jay whispers, his voice trembling as he leans in even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. his eyes flicker between your eyes and your mouth, "can i kiss you?"
his words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the world outside, the uncertainty, the confusion—all that’s left is the two of you, and the undeniable pull between you.
your breath catches, heart pounding in your chest as you nod, barely able to speak. "yeah," you whisper back, your voice shaky but sure. "kiss me, jay."
without another word, jay closes the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that’s been building for years. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, the electricity between you both sparking into something intense, something raw.
and just like that, everything went flying out the window. your movements became frantic, desperate, as jay pulled you in closer, his arms caging you beneath him as you lay back on his bed. the kiss deepened, his lips pressing harder against yours, all the built-up tension between you both unraveling in a chaotic rush of need.
jay hovered above you, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you beneath him. “fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice raw and full of emotion, his chest rising and falling rapidly. his hands slid down your sides, gripping your waist as if he was afraid you might slip away.
you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his muscles tense as he pressed against you, his breath coming out in harsh, shallow gasps. every inch of him was hungry, desperate, and fuck, you were right there with him.
“can't believe i'm not dreaming right now,” jay muttered, his voice low and strained as his lips found their way to your neck, trailing rough kisses along your skin. "you don’t even know." jay’s hands moved with a newfound urgency, hastily tugging down both your shorts and panties in one swift motion. the cool air hit your wet pussy, making you shiver, your body trembling beneath him. his grip was firm, his breathing ragged as he stared down at you, eyes dark with lust.
“fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough as his hands roamed over your now-exposed skin, fingers brushing against your thighs, inching closer to where you were soaked. he seemed almost in disbelief, like he was finally touching what he had been dreaming about for so long.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” jay muttered, his voice low, the words barely audible as his hands found their way to your core, his fingers teasing your folds. you gasped, your hips jerking at the sudden contact, the heat between you two unbearable now.
his eyes locked onto yours as he let his fingers slide through your slickness, groaning softly at how wet you were for him. “you’re soaked,” he rasped, his voice full of desire. "shit, y/n, you’re driving me insane."
"i've imagined this so many fucking times," jay groaned, his voice thick with desperation as he ground helplessly against you, his hard cock pressing against your slick heat. his hands scrambled to touch whatever he could reach—your waist, your thighs, your breasts—gripping, groping, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.
his breath was ragged, each grind of his hips sending jolts of pleasure through your body, making your own need surge. "you feel and smell so good," he muttered, his voice hoarse as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.
you could feel him trembling against you, his body shaking with the intensity of the moment, his lips found your skin, kissing and biting your neck, his breath hot and desperate. "i’ve wanted you for so fucking long," he murmured between ragged kisses, his voice breaking slightly as he rocked his hips harder into you. "fuck, y/n, you have no idea."
jay’s hands fumbled to lift your shirt, his movements frantic as you shot your arms up to help him take it off. the second your breasts were exposed, his eyes widened, and a low moan escaped his lips. "oh shit, look at those tits," he groaned, his voice thick with lust.
without wasting a second, he dove in, his mouth hot and eager as he latched onto your nipple, sucking hard. his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, making you gasp, your back arching as pleasure shot through you. his hands gripped your breasts, kneading them roughly as he sucked and bit at your skin, completely lost in the moment.
"fuck," he muttered against your skin, his breath ragged as he moved to your other nipple, his mouth devouring you like he had been starving for this. "so fucking perfect." his hands squeezed your tits, his lips pulling and sucking in a way that made your head spin, each movement sending heat pooling between your legs.
he groaned deeply, clearly overwhelmed by the feel and taste of you, his hips still grinding against you helplessly, his cock pressing harder into your wet core. "you make me so horny," he rasped between sucks, his voice hoarse as he continued to devour you.
"i could do this forever," jay growled, his voice dripping with desperation as he grew more frantic, but still kept himself in control. his mouth moved from your breasts, licking a slow, deliberate stripe from the valley between them, his tongue hot and wet against your skin. he trailed down your body, each lick sending sparks of pleasure through you, his touch lighting your nerves on fire.
you gasped as his mouth finally reached your pussy, his breath hot against your slick folds. he paused for a moment, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked up at you, before licking a painfully slow, sensual stripe up your clit. your back arched, and you moaned loudly, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
jay’s eyes rolled back as he savored your taste, his tongue swirling over your clit again, this time with more intent. "fuck," he groaned against your pussy, his voice muffled as he lapped at your juices, clearly lost in the sensation. he was in heaven, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, drawing out every moan, every gasp from you.
he gripped your thighs, holding you steady as his mouth devoured you, licking and sucking with a desperate hunger. "you taste like fucking heaven," he mumbled, his voice hoarse as he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.
with precision, jay slipped his fingers into you, groaning as he felt how hot and wet your pussy was, his fingers sinking into your slick heat with ease. shit, he thought, shuddering at the sensation, his breath catching in his throat. this was so much better than that fucking sex doll.
“you feel amazing, so wet,” he muttered, his voice thick with awe as his fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot.
the way your pussy clenched around his fingers, the heat, the wetness—him lose control as his mouth continued its assault on your clit, his tongue moving in time with his fingers. jennie was nothing compared to this. you were alive, warm, pulsating around him, and it was driving him fucking insane.
“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, flicking his tongue against you while his fingers pumped harder, curling deep inside. “clenching around my fingers.”
every time you moaned or gasped, jay responded—sucking harder on your clit, his fingers curling deeper inside you, matching your rhythm, like he was feeding off your pleasure. he was relentless.
"fuck, jay," you whimpered, gripping his hair tighter, pulling him closer, needing more. every flick of his tongue, every deep thrust of his fingers, was driving you closer to your breaking point, and he knew it.
“cum in my mouth, please,” jay groaned, his voice thick with desperation as he looked up at you, his lips brushing against your clit. “can you squirt? i-i even practiced how to do it, please tell me you can… i need it.”
his words sent a shockwave through you, the way he begged, the hunger in his voice, his fingers stroking that perfect spot with precision. you could barely breathe, every nerve alight with pleasure. the
“please,” jay begged again, his voice ragged, his fingers working faster now, his mouth hot against you. “i want to feel you cum, i want to taste you, fuck, give it to me.”
his desperation sent you spiraling, and so you do—your entire body tensing as the pressure inside you finally snaps. with a loud moan, you explode, spraying all over jay’s face, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the release hits you hard.
jay’s eyes widened in awe for a brief second before he dove in, his tongue out, eagerly lapping at your juices as you squirted all over him. his face was soaked, but he didn’t care—he was completely lost in you, slurping at your pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“mmh, yes,” he groaned between licks, dragging out every last bit of your orgasm. your thighs trembled, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you rode out the intense waves of pleasure, your body jerking with every flick of his tongue.
jay was relentless, his mouth and fingers working you over, milking every drop from you as he greedily devoured your release. "you’re really fucking perfect," he muttered, his face still buried between your legs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.
jay didn’t waste a second, moving up swiftly and caging you beneath his arms, his body hovering over yours as he lined his cock up with your entrance. he teased the tip against your slick folds, the heat of his length rubbing against you, and a deep groan escaped his throat. "fuckkk," he hissed, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the moment.
"shit," he muttered, his voice full of awe and lust, "and i was just imagining this." his cock pressed teasingly at your entrance, the head slipping inside ever so slightly before pulling back again, torturing both of you with the anticipation.
you could feel the weight of him, the heat, and fuck, the way he was trembling with the need to finally take you. his breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back, but it was clear he was losing control. "can't wait to fuck you, oh," he groaned, pushing in a little deeper, the stretch sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "ask me," you whisper, your voice barely audible, thick with need as you looked up at him. your body trembled beneath him, every inch of you aching for more, but you wanted to hear it—wanted him to say it.
jay’s eyes snapped open, dark and filled with lust, his breath catching in his throat. he stared down at you, his cock pressing dangerously close to pushing all the way in, but he paused, clearly thrown off by your words.
“ask you?” he muttered, his voice husky, his hips twitching slightly, betraying his restraint.
"yeah," you breathed, your hands sliding up his back, nails digging into his skin lightly as you pulled him closer. "ask me like how you fucked jennie earlier."
his entire body tensed at your words, a deep shudder running through him. his eyes darkened, his breath ragged as he processed what you’d just said.
"fuck, y/n," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. "you really want me to?" his hips twitched, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, and he could barely hold himself back now.
"shit," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading, swallowing thickly before mirroring his words.
"you want it?" his eyes locked with yours, burning with desire as he fought to maintain control, his restraint hanging by a thread.
"hmmm," you moaned, your hips moving back to meet his, teasing him as your wet entrance brushed against the tip of his cock. "yes, i want it, jay…" you whimpered, your voice shaky and filled with need.
his entire body tensed at your words, a deep shudder running through him. his eyes darkened, his breath ragged as he processed what you’d just said. "fuck," he groaned, the desperation clear in his voice. he dipped his head, his lips grazing your ear as his body pressed harder against you, his cock twitching at your entrance.
"shit, you’re gonna fucking kill me," he muttered, his voice barely holding together as he lined himself up, teasing your entrance.
and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside, groaning as he felt your tightness wrap around him. "fuck, i'm actually inside you," jay grunted, his voice rough and strained as he pushed deeper, his eyes falling half-closed as he stared down at you, blissed out by the feeling of your tightness around him. your body arched beneath him, your eyes glued to the sight of him sinking into you, stretching you perfectly.
he caught you watching, and the realization made his head spin. "fuck, really watching me fuck you, huh? you like that?" he groaned, his voice low and dripping with lust.
his hips rocked slowly, his cock sliding in and out of you, and the way you were staring at him, so fixated, made his control start to slip. "you like seeing me fuck you like this?" he muttered, his breath shaky, his movements becoming more desperate as he lost himself in the heat of you.
"shit, you even got off to me fucking a doll," jay growled, his voice rough as he started fucking into you mercilessly, the force of his thrusts pushing you deeper into the bed.
his lips crashed against yours, swallowing your moans as the intensity of the moment overtook you both. your mouths moved in a messy, desperate kiss, both of you panting and gasping for air between each frantic movement.
"you fucking wanted it too, didn’t you?" he grunted against your lips, his hips slamming into you harder, his pace relentless. "did you get jealous, huh?"
"yes." you whine, his words made you whimper into the kiss, your body trembling beneath him, your fingers dug into his back, gripping him tightly, pulling him closer as you moaned into his mouth.
your answer seemed to hit him like a tidal wave, flooding jay with emotion. he groaned deeply, his body trembling as he collapsed on top of you, his chest pressing against yours. the weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, made everything feel even more intense.
"oh god," jay whispered against your neck, his breath hot and ragged as his lips brushed your skin. "you don’t know how much i’ve wanted this. how much i’ve wanted you."
his voice cracked slightly, and you could feel the vulnerability in him, the weight of everything he had been holding back finally surfacing. he kissed your neck, soft and trembling, his hands still gripping your hips, keeping you close.
"i thought i’d never have you," he whispered again, but the depth of his feelings clear in every word. planting tender, almost reverent kisses along your skin as his hips moved in slow, deliberate thrusts, connected to you but now laced with something far more intimate than just desire.
you could feel his heartbeat against your chest, fast and erratic, mirroring your own. the intensity of his emotions poured into every kiss, every breath he took, as though he couldn’t believe this was really happening.
"i'm so fucking happy," jay whispered, his lips trailing up to your ear, his voice thick with vulnerability. "can't believe i'm fucking you. i don’t know what i’d do if this wasn’t real."
your hands slid up his back, fingers gently tracing the lines of his muscles as you pulled him even closer, grounding him, letting him know you were here with him, that this was real.
"i’m not going anywhere, jay," you whispered back, your voice soft but full of reassurance. "this is real. i want you, too."
jay shuddered at your words, his breath catching in his throat as he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezed shut. "fuck," he muttered, his voice cracking as he let himself fully lean into the moment.
jay growled low in his throat, gripping your thigh and throwing it over his shoulder in one swift motion. the new angle made his thrusts even deeper, each one hitting you so perfectly that the breath was knocked right out of you. he straddled your other thigh, his movements becoming more aggressive as he pounded into you, his cock sliding in and out of you at a pace that left you gasping for air.
"jay," you yelped, your body jolting with every powerful thrust. jay’s hands were relentless, one hand gripping your waist tightly as he straightened up, towering over you, the other squeezing your breast harshly, kneading your flesh with an almost brutal intensity. his fingers dug into your skin, sending a mix of pain and pleasure through your body as he groaned, lost in the sensation of fucking you so deep.
he leaned over slightly, his hand pressing down hard on your stomach. the pressure made you feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you so fully it made your head spin. "holy shit," you whimpered, the sensation overwhelming, your walls tightening around him as his thrusts became more brutal, more desperate.
"fuck, i love your pussy, y/n," jay panted, his voice rough and breathless as he slammed into you over and over, his cock driving into you so deep it felt like he was tearing you apart.
"looks like you don't even need jennie anymore, huh?" you teased, your voice shaky between gasps as jay continued to pound into you, the intensity overwhelming every sense.
jay groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he thrust deeper, his grip on your waist tightening. "hell," he breathed, his voice thick with desire and desperation. "i don't think i'd ever wanna use her again."
his thrusts became even more intense, driven by the raw need coursing through him, as if he was trying to prove just how much better you felt, how real this was compared to anything else. "oh god, y/n," he muttered, his hips snapping into you, "i don't think i can get enough of this."
"gonna use this pussy instead," jay growled, each word sent a shiver down your spine.
you gasped, your body arching beneath him as the pleasure built, overwhelming your senses. "fuck, jay," you whimpered, your nails digging into his arms as he pounded into you.
"yeah, you like that?" he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned down, his chest pressing against yours. "this pussy's mine now."
as jay leaned forward, each movement pushed against your walls, making you grunt and mewl with every inch he buried inside you. his hand reached for yours, fingers tangling through yours as he pinned your wrists above your head, his grip firm but not painful, just enough to hold you in place.
"oh shit baby," he groaned, his voice low and filled with awe as his cock sank even deeper, hitting every spot inside you that made your body tremble. "i can feel your walls squeezing me, shit, i'm so deep." his words were ragged, each one punctuated by the sound of your bodies colliding.
"you like that?" he muttered breathlessly, his lips brushing against your ear as his thrusts became more urgent, your body responding to every move. "feels good, doesn’t it? fuck, look at that face," he panted, his eyes glued to your expression, clearly lost in the pleasure on your face.
jay crashed his lips onto yours again, moaning into your mouth between desperate, ragged breaths. his hands cradled your face, fingers trembling slightly as he held you with a kind of need that felt primal.
his hips anchored with one deep, deliberate stroke, burying himself inside you completely. he didn’t move, just held you there, his cock pressed impossibly deep, stretching you to your limit. the sensation was overwhelming, and it ripped a loud, unrestrained cry from your throat.
"too deep!" you yelled, your back arching off the bed, your body trembling from the intensity of it. jay groaned deeply, his forehead pressed against yours as he savored the way you felt around him, every inch of him buried inside you, the pressure making both of you shudder.
he gasped, slowing down his thrusts, jay's lips found their way to your neck, his movements becoming more cautious, more deliberate as his breath fanned against your skin.
he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering there for a moment before whispering, “can i leave a hickey?”
his voice was low, almost hesitant, despite the intensity of the moment. his hips slowed to a deep, grinding rhythm, the sensation still overwhelming but more controlled now, as he waited for your answer, his lips barely brushing your skin.
"of course," you giggled, giving him the go-ahead. jay’s lips latched onto your neck, but the more he sucked, the more impatient he grew. before you could react, he flipped you over with a sudden motion, making you yelp in surprise.
now straddling him, his cock still hard and pulsing, you gasped as he hit a new angle inside you, deeper and different.
he sat up quickly, pulling you against his chest, one hand gripping your waist, the other cupping your breast as his mouth found your nipple. his lips sucked on your skin, leaving more marks, his breath hot and ragged as he groaned against your flesh, leaving a trail of bruises down your chest.
"fuck, y/n," he muttered, his voice thick with lust as he held you tight against him. "i can’t get enough of you."
you pushed him down, feeling a surge of confidence you hadn’t felt before. god, you’d never been fucked like this—so raw, so passionate. every thrust, every moan, you could feel his emotions pouring into you. it was more than just physical; his love. the way his eyes locked onto yours, the desperation and desire in his touch—it all made your heart race.
you couldn’t help but wonder, would this fade? the thought of this connection, this intense heat between you fizzling out made your chest tighten. no, you couldn’t let that happen. you didn’t want it to end.
you rocked your hips, moving against him, feeling him so deep inside you. the look on jay’s face—the way he was staring up at you, completely captivated—made you feel powerful, wanted, needed. and fuck, you wanted him too, not just now but again and again. flashes of this moment replayed in your mind, the idea of having him like this over and over, coming back for more.
"i want you, jay," you whispered breathlessly, your voice full of need, your hands pressing into his chest as you leaned over him, "i want you to keep coming back for me."
"you think i'm gonna stop now?" jay growled, his voice dripping with intensity as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you down onto him harder. "fuck no."
he bucked his hips up, meeting your movements with deeper, harder thrusts, the connection electric, and it felt like nothing could pull you apart now.
"you’re mine," he muttered, his voice rough and breathless as he stared up at you, watching the way your body moved above him, completely captivated by the sight of you. "and I’m not fucking going anywhere."
"shit, you can come here whenever you want," jay groaned, his voice ragged as he thrust up into you, his grip on your hips tightening as if he never wanted to let go. "i'll even fucking bail on heeseung—fuck, i don't care."
his words made your head spin, the desperation in his voice clear as he lost himself in the moment. his eyes were locked on yours, filled with nothing but pure need. "you're all i fucking want, y/n," he growled, thrusting harder, the intensity of his movements matching the emotion behind his words.
"even if," jay struggled to get the words out, his breath hitching as his hips snapped into you with more urgency, "you just want to come here for sex—I don't care." his voice was shaky, his balls tightening as he felt his climax approaching, but he couldn't stop himself from speaking, couldn't stop the flood of emotion that came with every thrust.
"let me have this again," he panted, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling as he held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. even in this moment, as he was fucking you senseless, he still had that sweet, vulnerable look in his eyes. god, jay, he was still so fucking cute even when he was wrecking you, making your mind go blank with every stroke. you straightened up, taking full control as you moved on top of him, your hands pressing against his chest as you slid up and down his cock. jay’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide with pure pleasure as he watched you ride him, his body completely at your mercy. the way you moved—slow and deliberate, then faster, made him lose all control, his head falling back against the bed, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips.
"you’re riding me?" he asked in pleasured disbelief, his hands gripping your hips tighter, trying to ground himself.
his body shook beneath you, overwhelmed, and you could see it in his face—the way he was trying so hard to hold on, but it was all too much. "shit, y/n," he gasped, his voice cracking as he nearly sobbed from the pleasure.
"fuck, you're gonna make me cum—" jay's voice cracked, laced with panic as he felt his climax rushing toward him, the tension in his body building uncontrollably. his grip on your hips tightened, like he was scared to let go, scared of what was about to happen. he tried to pull back, but you didn’t stop, moving even faster, grinding down harder onto his cock.
"it's okay," you panted, your voice breathless but full of determination, "i'm on the pill. cum inside me."
his eyes snapped open, his entire body trembling as he stared up at you in disbelief, completely overwhelmed. "fuck," he groaned, his voice breaking as his hips bucked up into you, chasing the release he could no longer hold back.
"oh, god no- shit, i'm gonna—" jay babbled, his voice high-pitched and shaky, barely holding himself together as the pressure built inside him.
"shit, stop, i—fuck, i can't believe—" his words trailed off into desperate whines, his hips bucking up uncontrollably into you, his eyes squeezing shut as he started to lose it.
he tried to fight it, his head thrashing against the pillow as his hips stuttered beneath you, but there was no stopping it. "i can't—fuck, i'm cumming, i'm fucking cumming," he whined, his voice cracking as he emptied himself inside you, disbelief and pleasure making him reel. his body jerked uncontrollably, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, as he babbled incoherently, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation.
you followed suit, your body trembling as the intense pleasure hit you all at once. your orgasm washed over you in powerful waves, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock. jay’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping as he watched in awe, his still-hard cock twitching inside you.
"what the fuck," he hissed, his voice shaking with disbelief, "you're squirting all over me, y/n. shit, that’s so fucking hot."
his hands gripped your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he rocked up into you again, unable to stop himself. the sight of you cumming like that had him completely undone, his head falling back with a groan, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
"fuck, you're incredible," he moaned, still feeling the heat of your release soaking him. both of you lay there panting, the weight of everything that had just happened sinking in. jay’s body was still trembling beneath yours, his hands resting on your hips, holding you gently now, completely different from the roughness moments before.
he was the first to break the silence, his breath shaky as he spoke, still flustered. "so, um… was it just the dick? or… did you like me back, too?" his voice was awkward, almost nervous, as he tried to act casual about it, but his eyes gave him away.
he was staring at you, waiting for an answer, unsure of himself despite everything that had just happened.
you chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips. "jay, seriously?" you teased, running your fingers lightly across his chest. "if I just wanted your dick, I wouldn’t have let you stay inside me like that."
he blinked, processing your words, clearly surprised. "wait… so you actually like me? like, like me like me?" his voice cracked slightly, his face flushing red as if he hadn’t just fucked you senseless. it was almost adorable how shy he still was, even after everything.
"yeah," you nodded, smirking at him. "i want something more. it’s not just about the sex, jay. though…" you bit your lip playfully, making him blush even harder, "that was pretty damn amazing, too."
jay’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest, and for a moment he looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shy, awkward laugh. "holy shit, I didn’t think… I mean, I never thought you’d like me like that."
"why wouldn’t I?" you asked, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly, making him melt under your touch. "you’re sweet, you're cute, and you just rocked my fucking world."
jay’s face turned beet red, and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "can I, um… kiss you again?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was still too shy to believe you’d say yes. his eyes were full of vulnerability, like he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was real.
you couldn’t help but giggle at how adorably awkward he was, despite everything. "you don’t have to ask, jay," you teased, leaning down to kiss him gently, feeling his hands hesitantly slide up to cup your face.
he kissed you back, this time slower, sweeter, as if savoring every second of it. when you pulled away, his face was still flushed, his lips parted as he stared at you like you were the most unbelievable thing in the world. "I seriously can’t believe this is happening," he muttered, shaking his head slightly, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"so… you're my girlfriend now? or is there, like, a process?" jay asked, his voice soft but filled with nervousness, his eyes darting around like he was unsure of the right way to approach it. his awkwardness was endearing, especially after everything that had just happened between you two.
you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and playful as you sat up slightly, still straddling him. "a process?" you teased, your lips curving into a grin. "jay, I think after everything we just did, we're skipping the process."
his face flushed bright red again, but a sheepish smile tugged at his lips. "right… yeah, that makes sense." he looked away for a second, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. "so, uh, I guess we’re… official?"
"i guess we are," you smirked, leaning down to kiss him softly. "unless you want to fill out some forms or something."
jay chuckled, his hands sliding up to rest on your hips as he looked up at you with that sweet, almost boyish grin. "nah, I think I can live without the paperwork. but, just to be clear…" he hesitated for a moment, his voice dropping to a more vulnerable tone. "you really want this? like, not just curious about… you know?"
you rolled your eyes playfully and gave him a gentle smack on the chest.
his grin widened, still a bit shy but filled with excitement. "can I kiss you whenever I want now? or do I have to ask every time?" he joked, though you could tell he was still a bit hesitant, not quite believing that this was real.
"you better," you teased, pressing your lips to his again, feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he kissed you back, his awkwardness slowly fading into pure happiness.
as you both lay there, the warmth between you growing into something comfortable and real, jay’s eyes drifted lazily around the room.
and then he froze. in the far corner, barely peeking out from under a pile of clothes, was jennie, his infamous sex doll, the one he’d relied on for so long.
"shit," he muttered, his voice soft but filled with disbelief, "jennie." he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked back at you, clearly embarrassed. "i guess I won't be needing her anymore, huh?"
you smirked, following his gaze toward the doll and giving him a teasing look. "yeah, probably not."
jay flushed, the reality of the situation hitting him again. jennie had been his secret for so long, something he never thought would be exposed, especially not to you. but then he turned back to you, his expression shifting from embarrassment to something more playful, his voice softening as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "but I never thought you’d be such a pervert, y/n."
you raised an eyebrow, giving him a knowing smile. "oh yeah?"
"yeah," he chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. "watching me like that… hiding in the closet. fuck, I couldn’t believe it. i mean, it was so hot—but still." he paused, biting his lip before continuing, "you’re a perv."
you laughed, giving him a playful nudge. "you’re one to talk. you’re the one with a sex doll."
jay groaned, his face reddening. "yeah, well, i had my reasons," he muttered, still unable to meet your eyes completely. "but fuck, y/n, the fact you were watching me… that’s something I’ll never forget."
"and you liked it," you teased, running your fingers lightly across his chest.
"hell yeah, i did," he grinned, pulling you closer, his hands sliding up your back.
"you okay with a loser like me?" jay asked, his voice soft, a hint of insecurity still lingering despite everything. his eyes searched yours, like he was waiting for reassurance, still not fully believing you were here, choosing him.
you smiled warmly, running your fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "jay, you’re not a loser," you said, your tone firm but gentle.
he blinked, his lips parting slightly as he took in your words, his cheeks flushing red again. "i just… fuck, i never thought you’d actually want me, y/n. i’ve liked you for so long and thought i didn’t stand a chance."
"well, you thought wrong," you teased, leaning down to kiss him softly.
just as jay was about to respond, the door flew open with a loud bang, and in stormed hanna, her eyes wide with shock and a mix of disbelief.
“what the actual fuck?!” she yelled, freezing as she took in the scene—both of you tangled up in bed, clothes scattered everywhere. “oh my god, no fucking way!”
jay nearly jumped out of his skin, scrambling to pull the blanket up, his face flushing a deep red as he stammered, “h-hanna! it’s not—it’s not what it looks like!” but the look of pure embarrassment on his face made it clear it was exactly what it looked like.
you couldn't help but laugh, though you were equally mortified. “uh, hey, hanna,” you said sheepishly, trying to pull the blanket over yourself as well.
“are you serious right now?” hanna stared, her hands on her hips. “you two… really?!”
“okay, okay, calm down,” you said, sitting up, still laughing a little. “it just… happened.”
“just happened?!” hanna shrieked, her eyes darting between you and jay. “i leave for five minutes, and now you’re… this?” you roll your eyes, "you were gone for an hour."
jay looked like he wanted to disappear, his face a permanent shade of red as he mumbled, “yeah… it kinda just… happened.”
hanna groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “oh my god, you guys are ridiculous. well, at least now i don’t have to listen to you both pine after each other anymore.”
you and jay exchanged a look, both of you clearly embarrassed but unable to hold back the smiles creeping onto your faces.
“wait,” hanna said, suddenly pointing at jay, “so this means i win the bet, right?”
jay groaned, burying his face in his hands. “oh, come on, hanna!”
"what bet?" you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in confusion, glancing between hanna and jay, who now looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
hanna grinned, clearly enjoying jay’s embarrassment. “oh, didn’t jay tell you? we made a little bet a while ago. i told him you liked him, but he was too much of a chicken to believe me.”
jay groaned again, his face buried in his hands. “hanna, please,” he muttered, clearly mortified.
“so,” hanna continued, ignoring his protests, “i bet him that if he ever got his act together and made a move, you’d be into it. and look at this!” she gestured dramatically to the two of you tangled up in bed. “guess who just won?”
you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “are you serious, jay?” you teased, lightly poking his arm. “you made a bet about this?”
jay peeked up from his hands, his face still bright red as he mumbled, “i didn’t think i’d ever actually win, okay? i was convinced you’d never be interested in me like that.”
“well,” you said with a smirk, leaning in to kiss him softly on the cheek. “you should’ve listened to hanna.”
hanna laughed, clapping her hands together. “maybe now you won’t be so awkward around her.” she paused, then raised an eyebrow at jay. “or are you still gonna be shy even after all this?”
jay blushed again, mumbling under his breath, “probably still awkward.”
“so was he good?” hanna smirked, leaning against the doorframe, clearly not ready to let this moment go just yet.
“hanna, leave!” jay shrieked, his face turning an even deeper shade of red as he grabbed a pillow and hurled it toward the door. hanna ducked just in time, laughing as the pillow bounced off the wall.
“fine, fine!” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender.
“i’m going, but listen up, jay.” her playful tone turned serious for a second as she pointed at him, her eyes narrowing. “if you hurt her, even once, i’ll disown your ass. seriously.” she shot you a wink before stepping out, still laughing as she shut the door behind her.
jay groaned, flopping back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands again. “i can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered, clearly mortified.
you couldn’t help but giggle, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “don’t worry,” you teased. “you survived her wrath, and I think you did just fine.”
jay peeked out from under his hands, his cheeks still flushed, but a small smile crept onto his face. “yeah?” he asked, sounding a little shy.
“yeah,” you whispered, leaning in closer, “more than fine.”
jay’s eyes softened as he stared deeply into yours, his face inches from yours as he nuzzled into your neck, finally relaxing now that hanna had left the room. his breath was warm against your skin, and you could feel the tension melt away as the two of you sank deeper into each other’s embrace.
"y/n," he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath, "i like you a lot."
his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you couldn’t help but smile as you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. there was something so genuine, so raw in the way he said it, like he’d been holding onto that confession for so long and could finally let it out.
“i like you a lot too, jay,” you whispered back, your voice filled with the same tenderness. “a lot more than I realized.”
he smiled against your neck, his arms tightening around you, holding you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “fuck, this feels like a dream,” he mumbled, his lips brushing against your skin. “i can’t believe this is real.”
"it’s real," you whispered, kissing his forehead gently. "and i’m not going anywhere."
he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, his face still flushed but full of warmth. "yay." he said with a small, shy grin.
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♡⸝⸝ be sure to check out my navigation page for all my stories, updates, permanent taglist, and a sneak peek at upcoming content! everything you need is right there.
to be added to my perm taglist, please follow the instructions on this post or drop an ask! it's so hard to keep track of everything because it's scattered! i will only add those that have followed instructions, ty! ❤︎
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sleep-0-deprived · 9 hours
Note
What would it be like for a yandere bully and a jock to share the nerdy reader? Could there be some headcanons?
Yandere bully, jock sharing male reader head cannons~! ૮꒰ ˶ ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
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<33
At first Jake and Damian didn’t wanna be within a ten mile radius of eachother, over time the only reason they started to get along was because you were being approached by some other boy. To say Damian was losing it was an understatement and the only person he knew as mentally insane as him was Jake, he didn’t wanna team up with him but atleast Jake was worthy enough of your attention like he was, unlike that stupid boy who thought he had a shot!
Days past the boy that first started chatting to you suddenly wouldn’t walk your way and who was comforting your broken little heart? Jake and Damian! Both there by your side smothering you in praises Damian seeming to be all sweet to you for once, you both staying at Jake’s house midway through having you face down ass up with Damian’s cock stretching your run to its breaking point while Jake just pets your head and coos sweet words treating your mouth like a little cock sleeve while he whispers “there’s my favorite boy, smarter in more ways than just books, so smart with pleasing us aren’t you, angel?”
After that moment it might have been sealed and written down in fate because there was no leaving now that these two guys had you in their clutch, sharing wasn’t ideal but for you they’d do anything and despite them hating to agree and they’d most definitely never say it out loud but Jake knew Damian was just as screwed in the head as him when it came to obsessing over you, Damian let up on the bullying not by much since he loved that face you’d make looking up at him with swollen cheeks sitting on your knees crying in the hallway before him— gosh he’d get hard just imagining those little lips quivering.
Jake would always make you attend his games you knew that but what you didn’t know is how he’d get the locker room cleared for a few minutes before the game sneaking you in giving him just enough time to get your back pressed to the locker with your leg hiked up nice and high while he murmurs in and on “when I win this game I’m gonna be thanking you so much baby, you’re my little charm aren’t you.”
Damian on the other hand wasn’t nearly as sweet with his words nor as gentle with you, he’d fuck you bent over like a whore in the gym storage room with one hand over your mouth not even caring it there was class going on outside that door he’d just lean his head down and whisper right into your ear “if you don’t want all those jokes seeing how slutty the school genius is then you better pipe down pipsqueak” you could practically feel the grin against your neck when he held your thighs tight
By the time study hall rolls around they are both so pent up and needy for you they can’t take it, having you in the back of the janitors closet with one hand in each of their pants just trying to get them all quickly so no teacher or custodian walks in and sees “shh it’s all fine [name] the janitor won’t be by for another hour or so” Jake would whisper to you in your ear and kiss at your bottom lobe feeling his cock throbbing in your left hand almost ready to explode as he heaves in your ear while Damian rolls his eyes acting tough for you but he can’t deny the fact his stomach was churning and he was on the edge but he’d be damned if he didn’t outlast Jake because in some weird sense he wanted to impress you more….no matter what even if they share you they will always compete at it!
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withahappyrefrain · 2 days
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FRAT TASM!PETER WITH
“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”
THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COCKY ASSHOLE WOULD SAYYY OH MY GOD
This is how blonde frat Peter returns bless you
Warning: language, frat Peter being a cocky little shit, female reader, I think that's it!
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"Hey, you made it after all."
You audbily breathe in through your nose, trying to ignore the fumes of vodka and who knows what else was in this God forsaken jungle juice.
Anything to give you the strength to face Peter Parker.
You turn around to find him leaning against the door, a joint tucked behind his ear, hands in the pocket of his black hoodie, bleached blonde hair somehow perfectly messy.
"Don't get ahead of yourself Parker. I'm only here to support my roommate," you scoff, turning your attention back to the game of beer pong. Not that you were truly interested.
But you couldn't let him know that.
You regret being late to the first day of your Science Diplomacy & World Health class. Had you known it would have left you no choice but to sit next to Peter Parker, you wouldn't have hit the snooze button for your alarm five times.
It wasn't even like you had asked to borrow a pencil from him. He seemed drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.
"Y'know, I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours. You a transfer?" He asked, as if you two weren't in the middle of a lecture.
Thanks to your roommate being in the sorority that paired up with his frat, you had heard all about Peter Parker. The infamous parties. How he dyed his hair blonde at the beginning of sophomore. How he's the biggest flirt that Delta Lambda Phi had.
You didn't even look at him when you responded, "We've been in the same class since freshman year. But I came here to get a degree, not to party."
Ever since that day, he wouldn't leave you alone. At first it started with ridiculously over the top pick up lines.
"Are you made up of copper and tellurium? Because you're cute."
All you could do was roll your eyes at every line, mustering all the strength you had to not smile. You had eyes, the guy was cute. But you also knew his type.
So when he extended a personal invite to the latest frat party, you simply turned him down, like you had for countless of other parties.
Of course, as luck would have it, it was exactly the party your roommate wanted to go to.
You hoped to avoid him, hoped that your roommate would find whoever she was looking for so you could leave.
But it was as if Peter Parker had a sixth sense for you specifically. His inability to find you in libraries, dinning halls, and the university's coffee shop (bc fuck Starbucks) had now extended to frat parties.
"You know Parker, stalking is a serious crime," you scoff, refusing to look at him. The ever present scent of cinnamon alerted you that he was now standing next to you.
"It's not my fault you have a beautiful face that I could pick out from a crowd," He mumbles, a stark contrast to the usual cocky bravada you're used to.
"Excuse me?" Without thinking, you turn to face him, making contact with those big brown eyes.
The corner of his pink lips jerk upwards as he leans in, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His touch is gentle, something you weren't expecting at all.
"You heard me." The cocky smile had returned, causing you to roll your eyes.
"Hey, don't gimme that. I know you love how cheesy I am."
Unfortunately, it was true. He was never crude and it somehow sounded genuine, despite being accompanied by a worn snapback.
"It's not crass, unlike your fellow brotherin. I'll give you that Parker." You would have taken a step back if you could, but you were now up against the wall. But he still had space to close in on you, not that he did. He always kept enough distance that you could walk away.
Come to think of it, you hadn't seen or heard him flirt with anyone since the first day of classes.
"Y'know, I got an offer from Delta Chi. It could be way worse." His comment earned a laugh from you, a feat Peter was quite proud of.
"You're right, I guess I should give you that."
"I think you can give me a lot more," He leaned in, closing some of the distance between you two but not all the way, "If you want."
The ball was in your court. His lips looked so soft, no doubt from the vanilla chapstick he used. God, why did you know that about him? And why did he always smell like cinnamon instead of Axe body spray? That's what he should be using, it would certainly make it easier for you to discourage your own feelings about the guy.
Tired of denying, tired of putting up a wall, and not kissing anyone in the last four months caused you to grab at his hoodie, your lips crashing onto his.
You vaguely register the sound of the dropped plastic cup, as your fingers thread through his hair to find it soft, despite all the hair dye and bleach.
Peter's hands feel large as they skim your sides, landing at your hips. When his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you could feel your knees begin to go weak. As if he could sense it, he pushed your back firmly against the wall, one of his large hands going down to your thigh to help steady you.
Fuck, his lips were soft. There was muscle underneath that hoodie, you could feel it.
His lips trailed down to your jaw before settling on your ear.
"I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard. Wanna hear about it?"
Desire burned at the pit of your stomach, your fingers gripping the strands of his hair.
"Where the fuck is your bedroom Parker?"
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alpaca-clouds · 1 day
Text
BG3 fans, we gotta talk CPTSD
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Okay, I have spend about a week considering writing this blog, but I really gotta say, that it is something people really need to understand. See, I mostly see this issue with Astarion and his depiction in fandom. However, I would argue that it is a thing that affects literally all characters that play some sort of bigger in this entire game. Including many NPCs.
But let me start with Astarion. See, I wrote the blog two weeks ago about people being judgy on people, who do not want to have graveyard sex with him. Mostly people will argue how Astarion should be allowed to have his agency in that moment - while I argued that whoever the player is playing should have also agency in that scene. Including the agency to say "no" for whatever reason. I also included that my Tav absolutely denied Astarion, because he was not trusting that Astarion in the scene really was ready for it, for a variety of reasons. Which is very much a valid reason for someone not to want to sleep with someone else. (Literally every reason is a good reason for that, mind you.)
And obviously there came the comment, that went basically: "As someone who was raped I am very appalled by you saying that raped people cannot consent." Which is very much not what I said.
What I said was, that my Tav did not consent. Yes, he did not consent because he thought Astarion was not ready for it - but he is the one not consenting. It does not matter for this whether his assumption about Astarion is true or not. Tav does not feel comfortable in the scene, so Tav does not want sex right there.
However... If you consider the drow orgy scene, Tav is also very much right. If you do that scene after defeating Cazador, Astarion is enthusiastically consenting to that orgy, but he still ends up dissociating during the scene. (And in that scene, even if your character notices it, you cannot go "Stop!" Which I hate.)
Here is the thing. If you are in the BDSM scene, you might actually have encountered a scenario in real life where someone was enthusiastically consenting to something - only to them realize, that they were not into it at all. And people can withdraw their consent IRL at this point. Only that in this game, obviously you can't. So within the game choices I will just start out with "no" for this character.
Still, that is actually not what I mainly wanted to talk about. No.
What I wanted to talk about is the other thing. I absolutely know that for a variety of reasons a lot of SA survivors do identify with Astarion, and I do not want to take that from anyone. I think it is amazing that we got a character with whom we see this issue portrayed seriously. And let's face it. Especially in tumblr fandom circles, we will have a lot of SA survivors, because the userbase of this website is majority afab, and many are queer. And we know from statistics that queer afab people are even more likely than non-queer afab people to experience SA at some point in there life. So, yes, Astarion is going to be embraced by this community makes sense - even without his dashing looks.
But here we get to the actual meat of the issue: Astarion was not just raped. Astarion was abused in a variety of ways - some of them sexual - over the course of 200 years. He went not through a single traumatic event, but an ongoing trauma that, again, lasted for 200 years.
Or to put different: Astarion does not have PTSD. He has C-PTSD. Complex trauma. The kind of trauma that develops when the trauma lasts over a long, long time, without the survivor getting a chance to ever really properly ever relax. Something that was very true for Astarion's time under Cazador. He was under constant threat of rape, torture, and other forms of violence.
While CPTSD is a form of PTSD, it has some differing symptoms - and additional symptoms from plain old PTSD.
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I found this graphic on this blog here, and found it fairly good in the depictions. (If you google CPTSD you will find several graphics like this.) It shows very well the additional symptoms, compared to normal trauma.
Generally speaking, CPTSD brings a lot stronger issues with self-worth, interpersonal problems, and emotional regulation. CPTSD folks are often prone to emotional outbursts (this graphic names anger, but technically it can be all other kinds of emotional outbursts - which is why at times CPTSD gets confused with BPD).
And Astarion is written like this. He shows very much all the symptoms of CPTSD. And let's be honest: That is an issue he will have to deal with for a long, long while.
But... As I said, the same is actually true for pretty much all the characters.
If you look at the companions, it is obvious.
Gale spent at least a year in constant fear of blowing up. While Mystra's abusiveness towards him within the relationship prior the orb is more fanon than canon (though the relationship was defnitely not an easy one), the "one year in constant fear of death" is very likely going to instill some form of CPTSD in him.
Karlach was a slave for 10 years, forced to fight in the hells. While she will also probably suffer from certain forms of PTSD more common in soldiers. Additionally I would argue that she also has some CPTSD from tiefling-racism. While she does not bring it up often... She does seem to have a thing there.
With Wyll it is a bit more complicated. Yes, for him I would see the kind of CPTSD I have - parental abuse related. Ulder was not openly abusive, but neither was my mother, and guess what fucked me most up in my childhood, despite experiencing some really bad violence elsewhere.
Shadowheart was abused by Viconia and midwashed and tortured and was forced to kill her fucking pet mouse. Bonus points that a lot of it happened during her childhood. She very much is gonna suffer the consequences.
Lae'zel... Do I really need to say something about her upbringing among the Gith?
Then we have Halsin. We know fairly little about his background, given that he is very coy in talking about it. But his "three years as a drow slave" definitely make it likely that he has developed some form of CPTSD.
And then we have Jaheira and Minsc. For whom just the... Well, look folks, the adventuring lifestyle would logically also leave you with CPTSD of some sort.
Even if you play a Tav who entered the game after having a very untraumatic life... They will spent what has to be at least two months with a tadpole in their head threatening to kill them - while half of Baldur's Gate is trying to do the same. They'll have PTSD after this at the very least, if not CPTSD. (Even though, let's face it, chances are we all gave our Tavs more than enough background trauma to go along with it, right?)
And same goes for so many other characters. The tiefling refugees. Our main villains (especially Gortash and Orin). Cazador. The other vampire spawn (duh). The list goes on.
So, what am I trying to say here?
Well, for once I just want to make sure folks understand that CPTSD is a thing that exists and while being similar to normal PTSD differs in some points. Including the fact that people with CPTSD have a high likelihood to make very rash decisions driven by instable emotional states, that might be harmful to them on the long run.
And mind you. In real life most people with CPTSD have it because either they were bullied for a long time, or were in an abusive relationship of some sort. (Abusive parents, abusive partners, abusive friends/roommates.) But even in those heightened scenarios the game represents for the most part - the issues are gonna be still mainly the same.
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reidmarieprentiss · 2 days
Text
Point Break
Summary: Part two to Breaking Point. Spencer, reeling from betrayal, seeks solace in you after discovering Eli's infidelity. Overwhelmed by emotions, Spencer acts on impulse and sparks confusion between you and him. As Spencer opens up about the heartache of his broken relationship, you sympathize but you are hesitant, unsure if his feelings are genuine or fueled by vulnerability.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst
Warnings/Includes: happy ending!!, implied bisexual Spencer, mentions of cheating, insecurities, mistrust, reader is the nicest person alive for real, the LONG game, roommate Penelope, confrontation with ex
Word count: 13.5k
a/n: hiii sorry this took a while to get out i had to keep taking breaks ,, writers block is a biggg jerk
main masterlist part one
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You pulled back after a moment, your breath catching in your throat as your mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. The shock was written all over your face, and without even thinking, you reached out, pushing Spencer back by his shoulders to put some distance between the two of you. 
"What the hell?" you whispered, your voice wavering with disbelief as you searched his face for some kind of explanation. 
Spencer's eyes were filled with a confusing mix of emotions—pain, desperation, regret. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, his lips slightly parted as if the words were stuck somewhere deep in his throat. 
"I—I'm sorry," he finally managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—I shouldn’t have done that." 
You blinked, trying to process what had just happened, your mind racing to make sense of it all. This was Spencer—your new friend, your old foe, and, until moments ago, someone you thought was off-limits because of Eli. Now, everything felt upside down, like the ground had shifted beneath you.
"Spencer, what is going on?" you demanded, your voice a little steadier now as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. "You can’t just—kiss me like that. You—you're with Eli!" 
At the mention of Eli, something in Spencer’s expression cracked, the pain in his eyes deepening as his shoulders slumped. He exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I know… I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But… they’re with someone else." 
Your heart dropped at his words, and you felt your grip on his shoulders loosen as the weight of his revelation settled over you. "What?" you whispered, your confusion giving way to a sudden rush of sympathy. "Spencer, what are you talking about?"
He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. "I came home tonight… and they were… with someone else," he said quietly, his voice breaking with the admission. "Shane. The same person you went on a date with."
The room seemed to close in around you as the full impact of his words hit you. You stepped back, your mind reeling from the shock. "Shane?" you repeated, disbelief washing over you. "Are you—are you serious?"
Spencer nodded, his eyes filled with sadness and exhaustion. "Yeah. I walked in and… they didn’t even care. They just told me we’d talk later, like it didn’t even matter."
You stood there, stunned into silence, the weight of everything crashing down all at once. You wanted to say something, anything, to ease his pain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
Spencer finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and you saw the raw vulnerability in his gaze. "I don’t know why I came here," he admitted softly. "I just—I didn’t know where else to go."
Your heart ached for him, torn between the overwhelming urge to comfort him and the confusion swirling inside you. You hadn’t expected any of this—not the kiss, not the revelation about Eli, not the flood of emotions that came with it.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to him again, this time with less hesitation. "Spencer," you said gently, your hands falling away from his shoulders, "I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling right now."
He looked at you with such vulnerability, like he was on the verge of breaking. "I don’t know what to do," he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension in the air hung heavy, charged with emotions neither of you had fully processed. You wanted to say something to ease his pain, but you weren’t sure what. Everything about this moment felt messy and complicated.
Finally, you grabbed Spencer again, this time pulling him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around him with a warmth that you hoped would give him some sense of comfort. His body tensed for a brief moment, but then he melted into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder. You could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion—and you held him tighter, as if your embrace could somehow take some of that burden off his shoulders.
"Spencer," you murmured into his shoulder, your voice soft but firm, "you can stay here."
He didn’t respond immediately, but you felt him nod slightly against you, his breath uneven, as if he were trying to hold back tears.
"You can sleep on the couch, okay?" you added, pulling back slightly so you could look him in the eyes. His face was so full of emotion—sadness, relief, and maybe a little bit of guilt—but you gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on in. Let’s get you some water."
Spencer blinked, his expression softening as he nodded again. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the gratitude in it was unmistakable.
You led him inside, guiding him to the couch before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As you filled the glass, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at him. He looked so vulnerable, sitting there with his head bowed, his hands resting limply in his lap. It was like the weight of everything that had happened had finally caught up to him, and now that he was in a safe space, he was allowing himself to feel it.
Spencer took another sip of water, avoiding your gaze as he processed your words. His face was filled with conflicting emotions, a mix of vulnerability and stubbornness. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away again. “You’re such a nice person.”
You gave him a funny look, the corner of your mouth pulling into a smile despite the weight of the situation. “Of course,” you replied, patting his hand gently. “Don’t even worry about it.”
You paused for a moment, then added, "And we can forget about the kiss too. It’s not a big deal."
At your words, Spencer’s grip tightened around the glass, his expression shifting. He looked down, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, “I don’t want to forget about it.”
The statement hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it making your heart skip a beat. “What?” you asked, your voice coming out more softly than you intended.
“I don’t want to forget about it,” Spencer repeated, a little louder this time, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that caught you off guard.
You blinked, taking a step back mentally as you tried to wrap your head around what he was saying. “Spencer… you’re vulnerable right now. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His expression hardened slightly, his voice steady as he deadpanned, “I’m a grown man, Y/N.”
You laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension. “Well then, grown man,” you teased lightly, “why don’t you sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning?”
Spencer let out a small, reluctant grumble, but you could tell he was grateful for your kindness, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it. His eyes softened, and he nodded, setting the empty glass down on the table beside him.
“You’re right,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere. “I’ll sleep on it.” He paused, glancing at you with a mix of guilt and gratitude. “I’m sorry for… everything. For treating you the way I did, for being distant. I didn’t deserve your kindness tonight.”
You shook your head, giving him a gentle smile. “Spencer, it’s okay. We’ve all been through tough times. Just… get some rest, okay? We can talk more in the morning.”
Spencer nodded again, and as you stood to grab some blankets for him, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, full of unspoken words. As much as you wanted to make sense of the complicated emotions swirling between you two, you knew tonight wasn’t the time.
You handed him the blankets, and Spencer laid down on the couch, pulling them over himself. The room was quiet now, the tension easing into a comfortable silence.
As you headed to your bedroom, you gave him one last reassuring smile. “Goodnight, Spencer.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied softly, watching you go, the weight of everything still hanging between you both as the night drew to a close.
In the morning, Penelope groggily emerged from her bedroom, her hair a tangled mess as she shuffled down the hall in desperate search of coffee. Her eyes were barely open as she passed by the couch, her brain still half-asleep. She glanced at the figure lying there, not really processing what she was seeing.
But then, after a few more steps, something clicked. She spun around, doing a double take as her eyes landed on the unmistakable form of Spencer Reid, curled up asleep under a blanket. Her groggy mind snapped awake, and she immediately bolted back down the hall, slipping into your room with the grace of a wrecking ball.
Without any warning, she launched herself onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress and causing you to wake with a jolt. "AH!" you screamed, your heart racing as you shot up, eyes wide with panic. "Penelope, what the hell?!"
The commotion had stirred Spencer as well. He groaned softly, sitting up on the couch, disoriented and trying to piece together where he was and how he’d ended up there.
Penelope, still perched on your bed, gave you an incredulous look as she shook your shoulders with excitement. "Why is Spencer Reid asleep on our couch??" she asked, her voice an urgent whisper, but her eyes were wide with curiosity and glee.
Spencer, now fully awake, froze in place on the couch. His heart thudded in his chest as he remembered exactly why he was there, the events of the previous night flashing through his mind. He held his breath, wondering how much you were going to tell Penelope. The thought of your conversation, the kiss, everything—it made his stomach twist with anxiety.
You let out a sigh, quickly composing yourself as you tried to come up with something believable. "He… he forgot his phone at the party last night," you said, your voice calm despite the panic running through your veins. "We got to talking when he came back to get it, and then it was so late I just told him he should stay." You were impressed with how smoothly the lie rolled off your tongue.
Spencer’s body relaxed slightly, immense gratitude washing over him as he realized you weren’t going to throw him under the bus. You had just saved him from an awkward explanation, and once again, he found himself in awe of your endless kindness. He didn’t feel like he deserved it.
Penelope blinked, processing your explanation. Then, much to your relief, she burst into laughter. "Oh, that sounds exactly like something Spencer would do!" She winked at you, hopefully buying your story, before adding with a teasing grin, "Should’ve asked him to sleep in here with you though!"
You rolled your eyes, your face flushing as you laughed nervously. "Very funny, Pen."
Penelope gave your leg a playful pat before hopping off the bed. "Alright, come on, let’s go make some coffee." She didn’t seem the least bit phased by Spencer’s unexpected presence, her usual bubbly energy returning as she bounced out of your room and headed toward the kitchen.
You threw the blanket off and followed Penelope down the hall, glancing over at Spencer, who still looked a little dazed but relieved. As you passed him, you gave him a small, reassuring smile, grateful that the situation had smoothed over with Penelope none the wiser.
Spencer smiled back, the tension in his chest loosening as he watched you go.
After the pot had been filled and Penelope had happily clutched her mug, she gave you a quick hug and cheerfully bid you adieu, mentioning her lunch plans with Hotch and Jack. With her gone, the apartment seemed quieter, and the sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows cast a warm, golden glow over everything.
You and Spencer sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, mugs of steaming coffee in hand. The soft morning light made everything feel calm and serene, but in Spencer’s eyes, it was you who seemed to glow. The sunlight danced across your skin, making you look absolutely beautiful in his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“How did you sleep?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, and the concern in your eyes made Spencer’s chest tighten.
He stirred his coffee slowly, as if giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. "Fine," he replied, though his voice was hesitant. "Thank you… for everything. I can go, really. You’ve already done too much, and I’m probably overstaying my welcome."
"Spencer," you laughed lightly, shaking your head, "slow down. You don’t have to go anywhere until you’re ready. You’re not overstaying at all. Please, relax."
Spencer let out a long, deep sigh, the weight of everything still heavy on his shoulders. His fingers wrapped around his mug, seeking comfort in its warmth. When he finally looked up at you, his brown eyes were soft, filled with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. "Why are you so nice?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, confusion and gratitude swirling in them.
You smiled at him, a soft, tender smile that made his heart swell. "I can’t think of any reason not to be nice to you," you replied, your voice sincere and warm.
For a moment, Spencer didn’t know what to say. Your kindness, your ability to offer him understanding and comfort even after everything—it left him speechless. He felt like he didn’t deserve it, not after everything that had happened, not after the mess he had made of his own life. But here you were, sitting across from him, offering him solace and a place to breathe.
He blinked, trying to keep the sudden rush of emotion from overtaking him. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, almost to himself. But you heard him, and without missing a beat, you reached across the table, placing your hand over his.
"You deserve to be cared for, Spencer. Don’t think for a second that you don’t."
Spencer looked down at your hand covering his, the warmth of your touch seeping into him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a little less alone.
After Penelope left, you felt a sense of relief, knowing that she had caught on to the fact that something was going on with Spencer, but she hadn’t pressed you about it. She was giving you space, trusting you to share when the time was right. You told her Spencer would probably hang out for the day, mentioning how you two had talked about watching some movies together. It was a simple excuse, but she didn’t question it—she knew you’d open up when you were ready.
Once you were truly alone, the apartment quiet and peaceful, you turned to Spencer with a gentle smile. "If you want, you can take a shower," you offered, keeping your tone light. "I have some clothes that might fit you—my brother left some here when he last visited."
Spencer hesitated for a moment, as if the simple act of accepting your hospitality was somehow a burden, but then he nodded, grateful. "That sounds nice, thank you."
You showed him to the bathroom, giving him a fresh towel and the clothes. When Spencer disappeared behind the door, you could hear the faint sound of the water turning on. You used the time to freshen up yourself, wanting to wash away the remnants of the emotional night. By the time Spencer reappeared, freshly showered and dressed in your brother’s clothes, there was a slight shift in his demeanor—he looked calmer, maybe even lighter, though there was still a cloud hanging over him.
The two of you settled in the living room, sitting comfortably on the couch. The air was peaceful, and for a moment, it was easy to forget the chaos of the night before. But there was still something unspoken between you, something that Spencer needed to get off his chest.
You glanced at him, his eyes downcast as he sipped more of the coffee you’d made earlier. His fingers tapped absentmindedly against the mug, a small tell of the tension still lingering within him.
"Spencer," you said softly, your voice pulling him from his thoughts. "Maybe we should talk about… everything that’s going on. I mean, if you’re ready."
He sighed deeply, setting the mug down on the coffee table, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything was too much to carry anymore. "I don’t even know where to start," he admitted, his voice low, almost defeated.
"Start wherever you feel comfortable," you encouraged, your tone gentle but steady. "I’m here to listen."
Spencer took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. He glanced at you, eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and gratitude, and then he began to speak.
"It’s just… everything feels like it’s falling apart," he started, his voice shaking slightly. "Eli, the relationship, it hasn’t been good for a while. But I kept convincing myself it would get better. I kept thinking that if I just tried harder, if I just did more, then maybe things would go back to the way they were when we first started."
You listened quietly, not interrupting, giving him the space to get everything out. You could see how hard it was for him to admit these things, how much he had been holding in.
"But it didn’t get better," he continued, his hands clenching slightly. "It just got worse. They would get angry over small things, blame me for everything that went wrong. I started feeling like… like I wasn’t enough. Like no matter what I did, I couldn’t make them happy."
The pain in his voice was palpable, and it made your heart ache for him. You had known something was wrong, but hearing it laid out like this was devastating.
"And then last night," Spencer’s voice cracked as he mentioned it. "Walking in and seeing them with someone else… I don’t even know how to process it. Part of me knew, deep down, that something was going on, but I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to believe it."
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I don’t know what to do, Y/N. I feel so lost."
You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, grounding him in that moment. "I’m so sorry, Spencer," you whispered, your voice thick with empathy. "You don’t deserve any of this."
Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, letting your words wash over him. When he opened them again, there was a vulnerability in his gaze that cut right through you. His face was a mix of emotions, the kind of internal storm that you could almost feel radiating from him. 
"I feel like such a terrible person," he confessed quietly, the weight of the words heavy on his tongue.
His admission caught you off guard. You furrowed your brow, tilting your head slightly as you asked, "Wait, why do you feel like a terrible person?"
Spencer sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before he looked back up at you. "I was upset—angry, when I caught them, of course. But then… I just stopped caring," he admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and relief. "The more I think about it, the less I care that my relationship is over, and the angrier I feel that I let it go on for so long."
You nodded slowly, understanding the conflict he was feeling, the emotional exhaustion that came with being stuck in a toxic relationship for too long. You stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.
"And then," Spencer continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, "the only thing I could think about was coming back here. To see you." He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, his vulnerability exposed. "I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, and I can leave if you want, but I need to tell you this."
Your heart sped up, your breath catching in your throat as he looked deep into your eyes. There was something raw in his gaze, something that made your pulse quicken in anticipation of what he was about to say.
"I just wanted to see you," Spencer admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You are the only person, the only thing, that has made me feel something in so long. You’re absolutely gorgeous, inside and out, and—and I hated going home to Eli every time after I would see you."
His confession hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken emotions. You could see the honesty in his eyes, the way he had been carrying these feelings for a long time but had kept them buried. There was no denying the intensity of his words, the rawness in the way he expressed how much you meant to him.
For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had always felt something for Spencer—maybe even more than you had allowed yourself to admit—but hearing him say those things, hearing him admit that you were the reason he kept going, left you speechless. 
"Spencer…" you finally whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion, but you couldn’t find the words to follow up. You were stunned, your heart fluttering in your chest as you processed what he had just told you.
Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he continued. "Eli even told me to stop talking to you, made it a rule that you were off limits. Friends, not friends—it didn’t matter. They knew before I did." He looked down for a moment, clearly still grappling with the weight of his own realizations.
You sat there, still speechless, trying to absorb everything he was saying. The room felt heavier, the air thick with the tension between you two, but you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt. You could see that he was struggling, and something in you told you to let him continue.
"When Eli and I first started dating, and you came into Penelope’s life, I thought you were cute," Spencer admitted, his voice soft but laced with honesty. "I guess Eli saw you as a threat. Always. That’s... that’s why I couldn’t talk to you. I thought you would be the downfall of my relationship."
He paused, letting his words sink in. The tension in his voice, the vulnerability in his expression—it was all so much for you to take in at once. You had noticed the distance between you and Spencer over the months, but you had never imagined that it was intentional, that someone else had been pulling him away.
"But..." Spencer continued, his voice a little stronger now, though still filled with emotion, "I think you actually saved it. Or maybe—" He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "Maybe you saved me from it."
That last sentence seemed to hang in the air, heavier than anything else he’d said so far. His eyes searched yours, trying to gauge your reaction. He looked so lost, so unsure of himself, and all you wanted to do was reach across the table and take his hand, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this.
Your mind raced as you processed his words. Spencer, sweet, kind Spencer, had been trapped in a relationship that drained him, and you—without even knowing it—had been the light that pulled him out. It was overwhelming, hearing that you had made such an impact on someone you cared about, especially someone like Spencer.
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, your mind still reeling from everything he had just laid out in front of you. "Spencer... I had no idea," you said softly, your voice finally breaking the silence. "I’m... I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that."
He shook his head, giving you a small, almost sad smile. "It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, you were just... you. And that’s what made me realize that I deserved more. That I deserve to feel something real."
His words hit you hard, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. Spencer was laying everything bare, and it was clear that he had been carrying these feelings for a long time. 
"You do deserve more, Spencer," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel... everything."
Spencer looked at you, his gaze soft but filled with intensity. "That’s what I want, Y/N," he said quietly. "I want to feel everything. With you." 
You sat there, staring into his eyes, the weight of his confession settling into your chest. Everything between you felt charged, like the world had shifted in those few moments, and you were left wondering where you would go from here. 
"Spencer..." you sighed again, your voice soft but filled with a mix of emotions. You could see the way his shoulders slumped slightly, the self-doubt creeping into his expression, and it broke your heart a little.
He nodded, already bracing himself for the rejection he assumed was coming. "You don’t feel the same," he stated, his voice low and bitter, the words heavy as if they physically weighed him down. He couldn’t even meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the table between you.
"I–I..." you stuttered, searching for the right words, but none seemed to come. How could you explain everything you were feeling when you hadn’t even fully processed it yourself? You cared about Spencer, of course you did. He had always been kind, even if not to you, brilliant, and yes, incredibly attractive. But this—this sudden confession of feelings—it was a lot to take in all at once. 
Spencer had only recently begun to treat you like a real friend, and you had cherished those moments, the playful banter, the shared laughs. And now, he was telling you that he thought of you even while he was with Eli, that you were the only thing keeping him afloat during a time when his relationship was sinking. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Spencer," you tried again, your voice soft but steady this time. "I just... this is a lot. You just got out of something really painful, and now you're telling me all of this, and I—"
"I know," he cut you off, his voice thick with frustration, though not at you. "I know it’s a lot. But I need you to understand—I wasn’t with Eli for a long time, not really. We were just... coexisting. I thought I had to make it work, but the truth is, I didn’t care anymore. And then I realized the only person I did care about was you."
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of them pressing down on you. This was real for Spencer, but you were still trying to wrap your head around it all.
You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling deeply. "Spencer, I don’t know what to say. I care about you, I do, but you’ve just been through something so heavy. I don’t want to be the rebound. I don’t want to be the person you turn to because you’re hurt and looking for comfort. That’s not fair to either of us."
Spencer’s face fell slightly, though he didn’t look angry—just disappointed, in himself more than anything. "You’re not a rebound," he said quietly, shaking his head. "You’re... you’re so much more than that. I didn’t mean to put this all on you right now. I just..." He trailed off, clearly unsure how to explain what he was feeling without overwhelming you further.
You reached across the table, placing a hand gently on top of his. "I know you’re hurting, and I know you’ve had a rough time. But maybe... maybe we should just take a step back and give this some space to breathe. You need time to heal, and I need time to process all of this."
Spencer nodded, though you could see the sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe you’re right," he admitted, though it was clear that the thought of pulling back hurt him. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N."
"You’re not going to lose me, Spencer," you said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "But let’s just put this on pause and think about it, okay? Let’s not rush into anything."
He let out a small, defeated sigh but nodded in agreement. "Okay," he accepted, though the sadness in his voice was still there.
You sat there together, the tension slowly dissipating as the reality of the situation settled between you. Spencer had opened up to you in a way you hadn’t expected, and while the future was uncertain, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together—slowly, carefully, and with the respect and care both of you deserved.
Spencer left later that day after actually watching a movie, feeling slightly more grounded but knowing he couldn’t avoid the inevitable conversation with Eli any longer. As much as he dreaded it, they needed to figure out their living situation and how to move forward, even if it meant parting ways.
When Spencer got home, the apartment was eerily quiet. Shane was gone—probably for good, Spencer thought with a bitter sense of relief. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the space that once felt like home but now seemed like a stranger's. With a deep breath, he made his way to the living room.
Eli was sitting on the couch, completely engrossed in football recaps. Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the familiar scene, feeling the anger bubbling up inside him once again. How could they just sit there, watching TV, as if nothing had happened? As if their whole relationship hadn’t crumbled the moment Spencer walked in on them with someone else?
He cleared his throat loudly, trying to get Eli’s attention. For a brief second, Eli glanced up at him, gave a half-hearted pat on the cushion next to them, and then turned their attention right back to the screen.
Spencer’s patience snapped. Without thinking, he reached for the remote and turned off the TV completely, the silence in the room now deafening.
“What the fuck, Spencer?” Eli snapped, their voice sharp, clearly irritated by the interruption.
Spencer stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to control the anger that was threatening to consume him. "What the fuck, me?" Spencer repeated incredulously, his voice filled with disbelief. "You really think you can just sit here, watch football, and pretend like nothing happened?"
Eli sighed dramatically, rolling their eyes as if Spencer was being unreasonable. "Oh, come on, Spencer. We both know things weren’t exactly great between us. You just walked in at the wrong time, that’s all."
"The wrong time?" Spencer echoed, his voice rising. "I walked in on you having sex with someone else in our bed! How is that the ‘wrong time’? You cheated on me, Eli. Multiple times, apparently!"
Eli didn’t even flinch at the accusation. Instead, they shrugged, looking completely unfazed. "Yeah, well, it’s not like you were completely innocent either," they shot back. "You were always spending time with your friends, especially Y/N."
Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you seriously trying to turn this around on me? I wasn’t the one sneaking around behind your back. And Y/N? We’ve barely even spoken outside of group outings."
"Please," Eli scoffed. "I’m not stupid. You’ve had a thing for her from the start. It was obvious to anyone with eyes. You were like a puppy with a bone, I’m sure you’ve slept with her plenty."
Spencer felt the breath leave his lungs. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his mind racing with everything Eli had just said. It was true that he had feelings for you, feelings he hadn’t fully acknowledged until recently. But he never acted on them—he had been loyal, even when things between him and Eli were falling apart.
"I never cheated on you," Spencer said quietly, his voice raw with emotion. "I respected our relationship, even when you didn’t. But I can’t do this anymore, Eli. I can’t stay here, pretending everything is fine when it’s not."
Eli rolled their eyes again, clearly bored with the conversation. "Fine. Whatever, Spencer. If you want to leave, then leave. I’ll find a way to cover the rent without you."
Spencer shook his head, the anger quickly giving way to a deep, aching sadness. He had fought so hard to make this relationship work, but it was clear now that Eli had stopped caring a long time ago.
"I’ll pack my things," Spencer said quietly, turning away from Eli and heading toward the bedroom.
As he walked down the hallway, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was free. Free from the toxic cycle he had been trapped in, free from Eli’s manipulations, and free to finally move on.
And as he started packing his belongings, his thoughts drifted to you. You, who had been kind to him when he didn’t deserve it. You, who had made him laugh and feel alive again. Maybe, just maybe, there was something better waiting for him on the other side of all this if he hadn’t ruined his chances by basically throwing himself at you.
Spencer didn’t want to impose on you and Penelope again after everything that had happened, especially not with how raw his emotions still were. So, after packing up his things and leaving Eli’s apartment, he made his way to Derek’s place. Derek had always been someone Spencer could turn to in times of trouble, and right now, he needed the stability of a friend who wouldn’t judge him or make things more complicated than they already were.
When Spencer arrived at Derek’s front door, suitcase in hand, Derek took one look at him and knew something had gone terribly wrong. Without saying a word, Derek opened the door wider, gesturing for Spencer to come inside. They sat down on Derek's couch, Spencer staring at the floor for a few moments, unsure of where to even begin.
“Alright, pretty boy,” Derek finally said, breaking the silence. “What happened?”
Spencer let out a long, weary sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He told Derek everything—the cheating, the confrontation, and the end of his relationship with Eli. As the words spilled out of him, Spencer felt the weight of it all settle deeper on his shoulders. When he was finished, he glanced up at Derek, half expecting to see pity in his friend’s eyes.
But Derek’s expression wasn’t one of pity—it was pure, unfiltered anger.
“They did what?” Derek growled, his fists clenching as he stood up from the couch, pacing back and forth. “Man, I swear to God, I’m gonna kick Eli’s ass. No one gets to treat you like that.”
Spencer quickly stood up, placing a hand on Derek’s arm to stop him from storming out the door. “Derek, no, please. It’s over. I don’t want to make things worse. It’s not worth it.”
Derek stopped pacing, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I just can’t believe they did that to you, man. You didn’t deserve that. No one does.”
Spencer nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor again. “I know. But it’s done now. I just… I don’t know what to do next.”
Derek softened, his anger giving way to concern as he looked at his friend. “You’re staying here, that’s what you’re doing. Don’t even think about going back to that place.”
Spencer gave a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate it.”
Derek pulled Spencer into a quick hug, patting his back before pulling away. “Anytime, pretty boy. You know that.”
The two sat back down, the tension easing slightly now that Spencer knew he had somewhere safe to stay. But there was still something else weighing on Spencer’s mind, something he hadn’t fully processed yet.
“There’s… there’s more,” Spencer said hesitantly, glancing at Derek, unsure of how to explain the next part.
Derek raised an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “More? What else happened?”
Spencer shifted uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. “It’s about Y/N. I, uh, I went to her place last night after everything with Eli. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Derek’s expression softened, his tone turning more curious than concerned. “And?”
Spencer let out a long breath, feeling the tension build in his chest again. “I kissed her. I didn’t mean to, it just… happened. I was upset, and she was there, and I just—" He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the rest.
Derek stared at Spencer for a moment, his lips pursing before he responded. “You kissed Y/N? Out of the blue?”
Spencer nodded, feeling the guilt creep up again. “Yeah. She pulled back almost immediately, and then I stayed the night on her couch. Nothing else happened. But now… I don’t know what to do. I told her how I felt about her, but I don’t think she feels the same way.”
Derek leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms as he took in everything Spencer had just said. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been harboring feelings for Y/N for who knows how long, your relationship with Eli is finally over, and now you think Y/N doesn’t feel the same because she didn’t immediately jump into your arms?”
Spencer winced at how blunt Derek put it, but he nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Derek let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, you’ve been through hell and back in the last 24 hours. She probably just doesn’t want to be a rebound, you know? You’ve got a lot going on right now. If she’s the person I think she is, she’s probably just giving you some space to process everything.”
Spencer tilted his head, considering Derek’s words. “You think so?”
Derek nodded confidently. “Yeah, man. I know Y/N. She’s not gonna throw you away over one kiss. She’s probably just waiting for you to figure out your own head. You can’t blame her for that.”
Spencer sighed, feeling a small sense of relief wash over him. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… I don’t want to mess things up with her.”
“You’re not gonna mess anything up,” Derek assured him, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Just take your time. Don’t rush into anything. You’ve got a lot to figure out, but Y/N’s not going anywhere. Trust me.”
Spencer nodded slowly, letting Derek’s advice sink in. He didn’t know what the future held with you, but for the first time in a while, he felt like maybe—just maybe—there was hope for something better.
“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer said, offering a small smile. “I really needed to hear that.”
“Anytime, man,” Derek grinned. “Now, let’s go grab some food and forget about Eli for a while. You’ve earned a break.”
Spencer smiled, feeling lighter as he followed Derek out the door. For the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally starting to fall into place.
Across town, things felt like they were spinning out of control. You paced your bedroom floor, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Your mind was a storm of thoughts, swirling around faster than you could keep up with. Spencer’s sudden confession had thrown you for a loop, and you knew the moment Penelope walked through the front door, she would ask you about it—she would definitely ask.
But you didn’t know if it was your place to tell her. A lot of what happened had to do with Spencer’s personal business. Plus, how could you explain the confusion, the emotions you were still trying to untangle in your own head? So, instead of facing the inevitable questions, you locked yourself in your room, hoping to find some clarity in the quiet.
Spencer was vulnerable. That much was obvious. He was hurt, mistreated, and confused—dealing with the fallout of a relationship that had crumbled around him. But at the same time, Spencer was brilliant, kind, funny, and wonderful in so many ways. And now, you were left wondering: did he really have feelings for you, or was this all just because of his emotional state?
The question you kept circling back to was one that made your heart sink. Am I just a rebound? The thought twisted in your chest, a painful knot of uncertainty.
Spencer was vulnerable right now, too vulnerable to really understand what he wanted, right? How could he guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind once the dust settled? That was the part that worried you the most. You didn’t want to be someone’s second choice, their consolation prize after a heartbreak. And while you cared about Spencer deeply, you also cared about yourself.
You stopped pacing, letting out a long breath. That’s it, you thought, feeling a small wave of relief wash over you as a clear decision came into focus. If anything was going to happen between you and Spencer, it couldn’t be right now. He needed time—to heal, to process everything. You both did.
You would have to wait until you saw him again to tell him this, to explain how you felt. It was the only way to protect yourself and give Spencer the space he needed to figure out his own heart.
But until then, you would keep your distance. You owed it to yourself, and to Spencer, to not rush into something that might not be real. You just hoped, when the time came to talk, that he would understand.
You sat down on the edge of your bed, your mind still racing but at least now, with a sense of direction. You would wait. It was the only way to make sure neither of you got hurt.
Spencer had spent the entire week on edge, waiting for Penelope to bring up what had happened between him and you. He figured you would have told her by now, but every time he saw Penelope, she acted completely normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was driving him crazy, the waiting, the anticipation. By Friday, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.
As the workday came to a close, Spencer found himself standing at Penelope’s desk, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands. He hesitated for a moment before finally blurting out, “Hey, um, have you talked to Y/N this week?”
Penelope looked up from her screen, tilting her head in confusion. “Y/N?” she repeated, blinking. “Why do you ask?”
Spencer felt a knot form in his stomach. “Uh, no reason, really. I just—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to continue. He hadn’t expected this. He had thought Penelope would know everything by now.
Penelope raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to his question than he was letting on. “Spencer,” she said slowly, leaning back in her chair, “what’s going on?”
Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… I thought Y/N might have mentioned something to you. About, well, about me staying at your place.”
Penelope’s confusion deepened, and she furrowed her brow. “Oh! I mean, yeah, she mentioned you forgot your phone and then stayed the night because it was late.” She gave him a curious look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why? Did something else happen?”
Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he realized you hadn’t told her the whole truth. Of course you hadn’t. You were protecting him, just like you always did. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. You were giving him the space to figure things out, and here he was, getting impatient, assuming the worst.
He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “No, no, nothing happened. I was just wondering, that’s all.” His voice sounded too forced, even to him.
Penelope’s eyes softened, and she gave him a knowing smile. “Spencer, if something’s on your mind, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”
Spencer offered her a tight-lipped smile in return, nodding. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pen.”
But as he walked away, his mind was spinning. You hadn’t told her. That meant you were still thinking things through, maybe even waiting to talk to him. Maybe this wasn’t over. The thought filled him with equal parts hope and anxiety. He knew he’d have to be patient, but the waiting was already killing him.
The only thing he could do now was wait for you to make the next move.
The moment Penelope sent you the text, telling you she was hosting a game night with the team, your heart skipped a beat. You knew Spencer would be there—it was practically guaranteed. The very thought of seeing him again made your stomach twist with a mix of nerves and something you couldn’t quite place. But instead of jumping at the opportunity, you felt the overwhelming urge to avoid it. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Spencer, it was that you weren’t ready to have that conversation in front of everyone, not when there were still so many thoughts swirling around in your head.
You texted Penelope back, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to come up with the perfect excuse. Finally, you settled on something simple.
Hey, feeling a bit under the weather. I think I'm just gonna stay in my room tonight. Please don't tell anyone I'm home, I just need some quiet time. Hope you have fun!
You knew how Penelope and the rest of the team were. If they knew you were home, they'd come barging in with concern or their usual boisterous energy, and you simply weren’t in the mood to deal with all of that tonight. You wanted peace, just some time to yourself.
Thankfully, Penelope didn’t question it. She sent back a short text, filled with lots of hearts and well-wishes, respecting your request. With that small relief, you tucked yourself deeper into the blankets and let out a soft sigh.
For most of the night, you were able to sit quietly in your bedroom, the dim glow of your laptop illuminating the darkened space as the low hum of a movie filled the silence. It wasn’t quite the escape you were hoping for—your mind kept wandering back to Spencer, to the weight of his confession, and the way you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.
But then you heard a soft knock on your bedroom door—so quiet you almost thought you imagined it. You froze, holding your breath, hoping whoever it was would go away. But then, you heard a familiar voice, barely above a whisper.
“Y/N?”
You sighed, knowing you couldn’t avoid him any longer. “Come in,” you said softly, bracing yourself for the conversation you had been putting off.
The door creaked open slowly, and Spencer’s head peeked into the room, his eyes scanning the space until they landed on you, bundled up in bed. His face softened when he saw you, and he let out a quiet breath, almost as if he’d been holding it in the entire time.
“Hi,” he greeted, his voice gentle.
“Hey,” you replied, your tone equally soft. You shifted slightly in bed, making room for him to sit if he wanted to. “How did you know I was here?”
“I saw your keys by the door,” he explained, stepping into the room a bit more, but still lingering by the entrance.
You raised an eyebrow, confused. “How do you know which keys are mine?”
A small smile tugged at Spencer’s lips. “They have your favorite color on them.”
His answer caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know my favorite color?”
Spencer shifted, a little awkwardly, as if the answer was so obvious that he was embarrassed. “I pay attention,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “I always have.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid between you. Spencer, with his shy, awkward demeanor, stood there in the doorway, looking like he wanted to say a thousand things but couldn’t quite find the words.
You weren’t sure how to feel about his response. It was sweet, the kind of small detail that someone who truly cared about you would notice. But it also reminded you of everything that had happened between him and Eli—the complicated mess you were both now tangled in.
Finally, you broke the silence. “Spencer,” you began, your voice careful and measured, “we need to talk.”
He nodded, stepping further into the room and taking a seat at the edge of your bed. “I know,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been thinking about what you said… and about everything that’s happened.”
You nodded, encouraging him to continue. Your heart was beating a little faster now, but you stayed still, waiting for him to say what he needed to.
“I don’t want to overwhelm you or make things complicated,” he began, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. “But I just… I can’t stop thinking about how I feel when I’m around you. And I know it’s messy right now, but I don’t want to lose that.”
His words hit you harder than you expected. You had been so focused on making sure you weren’t just a rebound, that you hadn’t stopped to think about how Spencer might feel—about how genuine his emotions might be, even in the middle of all the chaos.
“Spencer, I… I understand where you’re coming from, but you just ended things with Eli. You’re still processing all of that,” you said gently, trying to tread carefully. “I don’t want you to make decisions about us when you’re feeling vulnerable. You need time to figure things out.”
He looked down, nodding, clearly understanding your point. “I know, you’re right. I just—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just don’t want to lose you before I even get a chance to really show you how much you mean to me.”
Your heart ached at his words, and you wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that he didn’t have to rush, that you weren’t going anywhere. But you knew that both of you needed time—time to heal, time to think, time to figure out what this all meant.
“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you reassured him, your voice steady but soft. “But I think it’s important for you to take some time to process everything. You need to heal from what happened with Eli, and I need to make sure we’re both in the right place before we explore anything.”
He nodded again, though you could see the sadness in his eyes. “I understand,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll give you space. I just… I needed you to know how I feel.”
You smiled at him, feeling a wave of affection for the man sitting in front of you. He was hurting, confused, but still trying to navigate everything with the same care and thoughtfulness that had always made him so special.
“Thank you for telling me,” you said, your voice warm. “And when you’re ready—really ready—we can talk about this again.”
Spencer gave you a small, grateful smile, the weight of the conversation lifting just a little. “Okay,” he agreed softly. “I’ll be patient.”
With that, he stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to savor the last few moments before he had to leave. “I’ll let you rest,” he said, turning toward the door.
But just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at you. “I really do pay attention, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I always have.”
And with that, he left, closing the door gently behind him.
You lay there for a moment, processing everything that had just happened. It was clear that Spencer’s feelings for you were real, but it was also clear that things needed time. You couldn’t rush into something that had the potential to hurt both of you, no matter how much you might want to.
But as you settled back into your bed, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope. Spencer was patient, kind, and thoughtful. And maybe, just maybe, when the time was right, there could be something more between you two.
But for now, you both had to wait.
It had been a month since you’d seen Spencer. You’d managed to carefully avoid any events, hangouts, or places where you knew he might be. Spencer had finally told the team about him and Eli, and even confided in Penelope about what happened between the two of you. 
Now that Penelope knew, you were free to discuss it openly with her, which had been a relief. You needed your best friend's advice, and she never failed to listen and offer her support. 
One afternoon, Penelope came home in her usual upbeat fashion, practically bouncing through the door as she called out, “Oh, honey! I’m home!”
You laughed from your spot at the kitchen counter, where you were cutting carrots for dinner. "In the kitchen, dear!" you called back, trying to match her playful tone.
Moments later, Penelope appeared, wrapping her arms around you from behind and swaying you gently, her vibrant energy contagious. "Guess which genius is having a housewarming party and specifically requested your attendance," she said, her voice dripping with excitement.
Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to play it off casually. You didn’t want to seem too affected by the news, even though you knew exactly who she was talking about. "Hmm… I don’t know, Pen, Jack Hotchner?" you joked, turning your head slightly to give her a teasing smile.
Penelope giggled and let go of you, moving to lean against the counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh please, as adorable as Jack is, I don’t think his juice box parties are quite this exciting. Nope, it’s our genius—Spencer Reid." 
The mention of his name sent a small jolt through you. It had been a while since you'd heard anyone talk about him directly to you, and hearing it now made everything feel more real again. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool as you put the knife down and turned to face her.
"He... specifically requested me?" you asked cautiously, unsure of how to feel about that.
Penelope nodded, giving you a knowing smile. "Yep! He made sure to tell me that you should come. You know how rare it is for him to throw a party at all, so this is kind of a big deal." 
You bit your lip, thoughts swirling as you considered your options. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face Spencer yet. After all, the last time you saw him, he had confessed feelings you still didn’t know how to handle.
But Penelope, ever the supportive friend, saw the hesitation in your eyes. "You don’t have to decide right this second," she said softly, her playful tone turning gentle. "But… it might be good to see him. Just to clear the air, you know?"
You nodded slowly, not sure if you were ready to take that step yet. "Yeah... maybe," you murmured, your heart still racing at the thought.
You knew deep down that you couldn’t avoid Spencer forever. The thought of seeing him again made your stomach churn with a mix of nerves and excitement, but if he was specifically asking for you, then how could you say no? Still, doubt lingered. What if the time apart had given him the clarity you were worried about? What if he didn’t feel the same way anymore?
Those anxious thoughts accompanied you as you and Penelope decided to spend the afternoon shopping, hoping the distraction would calm your mind. Penelope was clearly enjoying herself, bouncing around from store to store with a contagious energy. 
As she pulled something off the rack, she grinned widely. "This is it!" she declared, holding it up for you to see. 
You raised an eyebrow, studying it. "You think so?"
Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! It’s perfect—it’s got your name written all over it. Trust me, you’ll knock everyone off their feet."
You weren’t entirely convinced. "It’s not too much?"
"Are you kidding? It’s just the right amount of everything. And besides," she added with a wink, "you need to make an impression. He won’t know what hit him."
You blushed at the thought, slipping into a dressing room to try it on. As you adjusted, you could hear Penelope’s voice through the door.
"Don’t overthink it, honey. Just remember: you’re amazing. Spencer needs to realize what he’s been missing."
When you finally stepped out, Penelope’s jaw dropped in exaggerated fashion, her eyes wide. "Oh my god," she gasped. "This is it. No contest."
You glanced at your reflection, feeling a flutter of self-assurance. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the push you needed. "Okay, okay... I think you might be onto something."
"Of course I am!" Penelope grinned, spinning you around so you could get a full view from every angle. "Now, let’s keep going. We’re not done yet!"
The rest of the shopping trip was filled with laughter and banter. Penelope held up different items, trying to get a reaction out of you, while you playfully batted her hand away, insisting that she was going too far. Still, it felt good to be with her, to let the worry melt away in the moment.
As you browsed more, you found yourself voicing the nagging thoughts that had been sitting heavy in your chest all day. "What if he’s changed his mind?" you asked, keeping your tone light but feeling the weight of the question.
Penelope stopped what she was doing, turning to face you seriously. "Listen to me," she said, her tone soft but firm. "If Spencer has any sense, he’ll know exactly how incredible you are. And if he doesn’t, then he’s the one missing out. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone."
You nodded, trying to let her words settle into your bones. "I guess... it’s just scary, you know?"
"I know," Penelope replied gently. "But no matter what, I’ve got your back. Now let’s finish this day off right. There’s still something special we need to pick up."
The final stop of the day had you both carefully considering your options. Penelope tossed out a few playful suggestions, making you laugh, but eventually, you found just the right thing.
"Perfect," Penelope said with a satisfied smile as she handed it to the cashier. "It’s thoughtful, it’s meaningful, and it’s going to leave him speechless."
By the time you both finished, you felt a little more prepared for whatever came next. You had everything you needed—and now, it was just a matter of seeing where things would go from here.
Arriving at Spencer's new house, your stomach was a tangled mess of knots. Penelope gently rubbed your back as she nudged you forward, sensing your nerves but knowing you needed to confront this moment. In your hands, you held a housewarming gift, trying to steady your breathing as you prepared to see Spencer again.
The door opened, and all the mental preparation in the world couldn't have prepared you for the sight of him. He stood there, looking impossibly handsome, dressed in his usual scholarly, somewhat quirky attire that made him so distinctly Spencer. You found yourself momentarily stunned, heart skipping a beat, as if you were seeing him for the first time.
Spencer seemed equally taken aback. His mouth parted slightly in awe as his eyes drank you in. Your fitted blouse clinging to your chest, unbuttoned just enough to show a tasteful hint of cleavage, the black mini skirt hugging your hips and revealing your legs completing the look. The way the blouse accentuated your figure made it impossible for Spencer to tear his eyes away, his gaze lingering longer than he intended.
For a moment, the two of you stood there, enveloped in a thick silence, the unspoken words and unresolved feelings filling the space between you. Spencer blinked, realizing he had been staring, and quickly cleared his throat, but the flush on his cheeks gave him away. You felt the tension between you both, a strange mix of unresolved emotions, curiosity, and something undeniably electric.
Penelope, sensing the awkwardness, gave you another gentle push, smiling brightly as if trying to break the spell that had momentarily frozen you both in place.
"Well, don’t just stand there!" Penelope chirped. "We’ve got a party to attend!"
Spencer stepped aside to let you in, his voice soft and a little breathless as he said, "I’m... glad you came." His eyes flickered back to yours, filled with something unreadable but intense.
"I wouldn’t miss it," you replied with a small smile, stepping into his home, feeling both the warmth of the occasion and the weight of the unspoken emotions between you, uncertain but not entirely unwelcome.
Taking his position as host, Spencer led you and Penelope through a quick tour of his new home, his voice soft and humble as he pointed out different rooms, clearly still getting used to having his own space. Penelope, ever the social butterfly, slipped away at some point without you noticing, leaving you and Spencer alone as you both ended up in his favorite room of the house: the sunroom.
The sunroom was bright and inviting, with natural light spilling in from every angle, making the space feel warm and open. You wandered in, taking it all in—the large windows framing the outside world like a painting, the cozy furniture perfectly arranged to invite someone to sit and relax. It was peaceful, the kind of place you could imagine spending hours reading or simply watching the world go by.
“This is my favorite room too,” Spencer said quietly, his voice almost a whisper as it floated in from the doorway where he leaned. He watched you with an expression so full of affection that it made your heart stutter. The golden light streaming into the room only seemed to enhance the gentleness in his gaze.
Startled by his sudden words, you turned to face him, realizing for the first time that Penelope was nowhere to be seen. You and Spencer were alone. The realization hit you all at once, causing you to clear your throat awkwardly, unsure of what to say next.
“Uh, yeah,” you finally managed, your voice a little shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “It’s really nice.”
Spencer’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes never leaving yours. The comfortable silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken emotions, the warmth of the sunroom matching the gentle warmth that began to stir in your chest.
Spencer took a small step further into the sunroom, the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath him barely audible. He was nervous too, you could tell by the way his fingers fidgeted with the cuff of his sweater, his eyes flickering from you to the view outside before settling back on you.
"I, uh…" he started, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I've been meaning to thank you again. For everything, I mean. You've been… more understanding than I deserve."
There was something vulnerable in his tone, something that made your chest tighten. You opened your mouth to respond, to say something reassuring, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. His eyes were so intense, so full of unspoken feelings, and you could feel the walls around your composure beginning to crumble. Panic bubbled up inside you. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick.
Without thinking, you grabbed the neatly wrapped gift from where you had set it on a nearby table, holding it out toward him with both hands like a peace offering. "Here," you blurted out, a little too quickly. "I, uh, brought this for you. A housewarming gift."
Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard, his gaze dropping to the gift before he looked back up at you with a surprised smile. "You didn’t have to do that…"
"It’s nothing, really," you cut in, eager to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. "Just something small. I thought you might like it."
The room felt impossibly small now, and you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on you, causing your heart to race. You needed to get out before you said something you couldn’t take back.
"I should, um, check on Penelope," you said, your voice tight but polite as you took a step toward the door. "She’s probably wondering where I went."
Spencer opened his mouth, but whatever words he had were lost as you flashed him a quick, nervous smile and slipped out of the sunroom before he could stop you. You practically bolted down the hallway, your pulse racing, feeling like you had just escaped something far more dangerous than a simple conversation.
Spencer stood in the sunroom, which suddenly felt much colder without your presence. He shifted the box in his hands, letting out a heavy sigh. He had hoped that your coming today meant you were ready to talk, to finally address everything that had been left unsaid between you two.
With a steadying breath, he peeled back the wrapping and opened the box you had handed him. At first, confusion crossed his features—it looked like a simple journal or book with a plain, unmarked cover. But as he pushed the box aside and opened the front cover, his breath hitched in his throat.
It wasn’t just a journal.
You had somehow gotten him the manuscript for The Narrative of John Smith by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the very book his mother used to read to him. His fingers lightly traced the pages, overwhelmed by the sentiment and care behind your gift. His throat tightened, and his heart swelled with an emotion he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely.
He didn’t even know how you knew how much this book meant to him, but the fact that you did—it told him everything. You cared, you understood him, maybe even more than he realized. It wasn't just a thoughtful gift; it was a bridge, a sign that you felt something too.
A surge of determination rushed through him. Whatever hesitation you had, whatever walls were still standing between you both, Spencer was ready to break through them. He was going to win you over, not just because he wanted to, but because he knew you felt something for him as well.
And he wasn’t going to let you slip away again.
The housewarming party had turned out to be everything Spencer had hoped for—filled with warmth, laughter, and the people he cared about most. It was a beautiful reflection of the new chapter in his life, surrounded by his closest friends in a space that finally felt like home.
Even though you'd spent much of the day slipping in and out of conversations, avoiding too much direct interaction with him, Spencer didn’t mind. He was just grateful you were there, moving through his house like you belonged, even if the occasional flutter of nerves kept you at a distance. 
He had faith now—faith that when the time was right, everything between you would be resolved. The gift you gave him spoke louder than any conversation could. You understood him, cared for him, and that was enough for now.
At least, he thought it would be.
As the afternoon started winding down, Spencer caught a glimpse of you hugging Penelope goodbye at the door. Your roommate was leaving, but you weren’t. His heart skipped a beat. Did that mean you were staying?
He stood, leaning casually against the doorframe of the sunroom once again, watching as you said your goodbyes. Hope surged in his chest—hope that maybe you weren’t just staying for the evening, but for something more. Forever would be nice, though he’d settle for today, just for now.
When you turned back toward him, Spencer straightened, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. This could be it, the moment he’d been waiting for, the conversation that had hung in the air between you both since that day a month ago. He wasn’t going to rush it, but he wouldn’t let this chance slip away either.
You walked toward him slowly, a quiet smile on your face. Spencer’s eyes softened as you approached, and the air seemed to shift, thickening with unspoken words.
“Well, looks like it’s just us,” you said softly, the corner of your lips curling up.
“Yeah,” Spencer replied, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Just us.”
There was no rush, no pressure, but the electricity between you both was undeniable. Spencer knew then—he would wait as long as it took. Because you were worth it. Every second of waiting, every quiet conversation, and every meaningful glance was leading to this.
He didn’t need forever to be decided tonight, but he was ready to start.
You stood in front of him, the soft hum of the house in the background as everything else seemed to fade away. Spencer felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mixture of hope, nervousness, and something that resembled excitement. He watched you carefully, his eyes lingering on the little details, like how your hair fell softly, and how the quiet smile on your lips seemed both tentative and inviting.
“So,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I figured I’d stick around for a little longer. Penelope made it seem like there was more fun to be had.”
Spencer chuckled lightly, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, a small nervous habit he couldn’t shake even around you. “More fun, huh? Well, I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, your grin widening a little, “I doubt you could disappoint anyone, Spencer.”
That simple sentence seemed to make him falter for a moment. He was often too hard on himself, and hearing you say something so kind with such certainty sent a wave of warmth through him.
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter now, like he was letting you in on a secret. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. And… I wasn’t sure if you were ready to talk.”
You met his gaze, the truth behind his words settling between you both. You knew this conversation was inevitable, and avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything. But now, standing here with Spencer, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the gentle way he held himself, you realized that maybe you were ready—ready to at least try.
“I wasn’t sure either,” you confessed softly, looking down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I needed time to think, and space, I guess. It’s just… complicated.”
“I understand,” he said quickly, not wanting to push you. “I didn’t want to force anything or make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t, not really,” you reassured him. “It’s just that… Spencer, you were vulnerable when you said all those things. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were feeling. That it wasn’t just because of what happened with Eli.”
Spencer took a slow breath, nodding as he listened carefully to your words. His expression was thoughtful, the gears turning in his mind as he considered how to respond. “I’ve thought about that a lot, actually,” he said finally, his voice steady but soft. “You were right—I was vulnerable. And at first, I wasn’t sure if what I felt was real or if I was just projecting because I was hurt.”
You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.
“But after some time… after having space and thinking about everything,” he continued, taking a small step closer to you, “I realized that what I feel for you has been there for longer than I admitted to myself. Even when I was with Eli, even before everything fell apart—I thought about you, about how much I enjoyed being around you. And it wasn’t just because of the breakup.”
Your heart sped up at his words, and you felt that familiar tug in your chest. His honesty hit you deeply, and for the first time, you could see clearly that Spencer wasn’t just reacting to his recent heartache. His feelings for you were real, and that terrified and thrilled you all at once.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. “I don’t want to be a rebound, or something you regret later.”
Spencer’s gaze softened even more, and he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The gesture was tentative, a quiet question that you answered by not pulling away. “You’re not a rebound,” he promised, his voice full of certainty. “You’re someone I care about deeply, and I would never want to rush or push you into something you’re not ready for. But I need you to know that this… what I feel for you… it’s real.”
You stood there, holding his hand as the weight of his words settled into your heart. You didn’t need all the answers tonight, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe around him. The tension that had been building between you for the past month seemed to melt away, leaving only the possibility of something new, something hopeful.
Instead of answering Spencer, you stepped closer, the setting sun filtering through the windows creating a soft glow around both of you. With gentle hands, you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as you gazed at him with a tenderness he had only ever dreamed of. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the most beautiful way possible.
For a moment, you just stood there, looking at him—really looking at him—like he was the only person in the world. And to Spencer, you were. His heart raced, the moment feeling both surreal and intimate.
Slowly, you both leaned in, the distance between you shrinking until your lips met in the sweetest, most tender kiss. It was soft, slow, and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world. His lips felt plush and warm against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue, and you realized that this—this kiss—was something you never wanted to end.
For Spencer, the world seemed to fall away. Everything he had ever felt or wanted to feel was wrapped up in this single moment. It was a kiss filled with the promise of everything he had hoped for, everything he had dreamed of with you.
When you finally pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the soft, sunlit space. He let out a soft, contented sigh, his heart still racing as if it was trying to keep up with the emotions flooding him.
“So, uh…” he whispered with a lopsided, boyish smile, trying to catch his breath, “want to help me finish unpacking some of these books?” He motioned toward the stacks of boxes still lining the walls of the sunroom, his attempt to return to normalcy almost endearing.
You laughed, the tension breaking as the moment turned light again. “I suppose I could lend a hand. I’ve always been pretty good at organizing things.”
Spencer grinned, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Oh, we’ll see about that. I have a very particular system.”
“Of course you do,” you teased, following him over to the boxes, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.
And as you started to help him unpack, the future didn’t seem as daunting anymore. You weren’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, you felt ready to find out. With Spencer by your side, you were ready to see what the future held.
The low hum of the bar filled the air, laughter and clinking glasses blending into a soothing background noise. You sat nestled beside Spencer in one of the cozy booths, the soft, amber lighting casting a warm glow over the two of you. His arm was draped around your shoulders in that effortless, natural way he always did now. 
Your head rested gently on his shoulder, your body relaxed against him as if you'd always belonged there. His thumb traced absentminded circles on your arm, a quiet gesture of affection, something he'd picked up over the months of being together. It felt like second nature now. Every so often, you could feel him lean his head against yours, brushing his lips against your temple in the sweetest way.
"You okay?" Spencer’s voice was soft, a private sound meant just for you amidst the noise of the busy bar. He tilted his head to look down at you, his brown eyes twinkling with affection, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah, just… really happy," you murmured, your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his warmth. "I could stay like this forever."
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. "That could be arranged," he teased, tightening his arm around you just a bit, as if to make sure you knew he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.
You lifted your head slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was something about the way Spencer looked at you—like you were his entire world, like he still couldn’t quite believe you were there with him, loving him as much as he loved you.
You remembered, long ago now, seeing Spencer at a bar, and the pang of jealousy you'd felt watching Eli get to kiss him. Back then, it seemed so far away—an impossible thought that you'd be sitting here with him now, his arm around you, his love pouring into every glance he gave you. Now, all those insecurities and doubts had melted away, replaced by the warmth of his affection, by the strength of what you had together.
You realized you'd been staring at him, love in your eyes so obvious that Spencer raised his eyebrows and pulled a funny face, the kind that always made you giggle, light and carefree. That was the thing about him—he knew exactly how to make you laugh, even in the quietest, most tender moments.
He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a little as if he couldn’t resist touching you. "What’s on your mind, beautiful?" His voice was soft, curious, as though he could sense the depth of your thoughts but wanted to hear them from your lips.
"You," you replied simply, your heart swelling with the truth of it. It was always him—always had been, always would be.
Spencer’s heart felt like it was about to burst as he heard those words. His gaze softened, his hand slipping from your hair to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with tender care. "I love you," he said, the words gentle but filled with so much certainty.
A soft, dopey smile spread across your face as you leaned closer. "I love you more," you whispered, teasing but sincere.
And with a deep kiss, soft and full of promise, you felt something shift, as though forever had just sealed itself in that moment. In his arms, with his love surrounding you, you knew that there was nothing more you could ever need.
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runariya · 3 days
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I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .
Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )
I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother
but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)
and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹
You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .
Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .
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part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754
a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕
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He hates you.
No, he loathes your entire existence.
That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.
You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.
It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.
“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”
You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.
The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.
“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.
“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”
Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.
“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.
“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.
“It’s the truth, ___.”
“Is it okay if I keep it?”
What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?
“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.
The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.
“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.
“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”
“Whatever.”
And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.
Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.
This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?
It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.
“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.
“What do you want?”
“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”
The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.
Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.
“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”
And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.
Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.
Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.
He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.
You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.
Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.
What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.
It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.
Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.
In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.
Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.
How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.
“Jungkook?”
He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.
Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.
When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”
He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.
Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.
“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”
“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.
“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.
To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.
He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.
And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.
It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.
You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.
“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”
“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.
“I said back off my mate.”
They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.
Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.
One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.
“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.
“Are you okay?”
“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.
“Good."
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologising?”
You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”
It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.
“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.
“I am?”
Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.
“You are. Always were.”
And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.
With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.
“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”
And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.
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teruuu · 2 days
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Exploring The Complexities of The Lamb and Narinder’s Relationship
Long post warningsgsgsgsgsh!!!!!! 🥺🥺
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For those of you who want a quick rundown of what the AU’s about, check out the link at the bottom of the post.
Warning: Mentions of Cannibalism, Unhealthy & Obsessive Relationships, and Spoilers for The Art of Acquiring Devotion
Now, firstly, I’ll have to give my thanks to @nimbudcat for providing me with ideas as to how the relationship would function and opening the gateway for me to fully explore all the nooks and crannies of their romance.
I’m no expert on the deep complexities of toxic relationships, so I don’t have the courage to fully label the Lamb and Narinder’s love as ‘toxic’, but I know damn well that it’s not a normal love at all. Let’s think—what is a normal, healthy relationship composed of? Trust, of course. Mutual love and trust, absolute honesty... Those are the most basic building blocks of a healthy relationship. In this AU, for Narinder and Lamb, those concepts are extremely warped. They have all of those components in their relationship, but it’s so twisted that it’s difficult for me to define their romance as either healthy or unhealthy.
Narinder and Lamb trust each other, and it runs so deep that the best descriptor for that trust is pure devotion. They trust each other with their lives. This may not make sense since they are immortals, but think about it—the cannibalism that they inflict upon one another results in death for the two, each and every time, and they trust only one another for their resurrections. They allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves only to one another, and this is so incredibly meaningful because of all the aspects of their pasts. They trust themselves of course to always only tell the truth to each other, and the love that they share is simply reverent.
Now, let me elaborate on why all the things I expanded on above mean so much. Let’s start with the Lamb. I as I said in my previous post, the Lamb’s past for this AU is derived from my fanfic. We don’t know much at all about pre-sacrifice Lamb in-game, so I took the liberties to expand on their world myself. I’ll allow some passages from my fanfic to speak for itself:
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It was through these traumatic experiences that the Lamb became hungry at the thought of companionship. No, the Lamb doesn’t just want some of Narinder’s Big Fluffy Gyatt™. As I’ve depicted in my other artworks, in this AU the Lamb considers Narinder as their savior, their one and only salvation, and perhaps the only person that has ever cared about them. And this is where things start to get murky—it’s because of this that the Lamb is so incredibly attached to Narinder and is absolutely insane about him.
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The Lamb isn’t just attached, actually. They’re obsessed with Narinder. So obsessed that they develop a panic if they don’t hear his voice after more than half an hour. So obsessed that they begin to see any and all followers that interact with him as an enemy. This is also why I hesitate to consider this as toxic, because, see, Narinder likes it.
Moving on to Narinder’s part of the AU, it’s important to understand that, although he pretty much brought it to himself because of his high and mighty behavior, he was also quite isolated in his earlier years.
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For Narinder’s side, he firmly believed himself to always be in the right. Think of it as a mad scientist whose ideas are way ahead of his generation. He had innovative thoughts and concepts in mind in the duration of his reign. He’d been supplemented by the knowledge that Shamura had provided him with, and that caused him to possess the mind of a radical inventor. Unfortunately, his ideas were less than desirable for the rest of his siblings and his own followers, so little by little the worship he received dwindled. Narinder was frustrated by this—why couldn’t anyone see the genius that he had to offer? Initially he had good intentions in mind, but he grew a tyrannical mind and eventually decided that the only way for the world to see his wonders is to force it beneath his feet.
Eons of imprisonment provided no aid for his mind. What once was a head full of wonders that could potentially change the world for the better became a twisted and cruel version of itself. Violence and revenge plagued his mind, and it became his one and only obsession. So, when the Lamb came to him, he relished in the worship they had to offer.
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Their devotion for one another is purely mutual, but at the same time fully in their own self-interests. The Lamb is devoted to Narinder because Narinder is all that they care about in their mind, and they desperately require Narinder for them to continue living on. As for Narinder, he had never acquired such a passionate follower before, and he grew an addiction for the love that they have to offer. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.
They are incredibly violent for one another because that’s all they know. They don’t understand what it’s like to have a normal relationship. They cling to one another, kill for one another, and eat one another because they need each other so badly. The cannibalism is an expression of their eager desire to simply blend into one another because that’s just how much they want the other.
They know it’s wrong. They hate that it’s wrong. They hate each other for making each other feel so wrong and so crazy. But they so, so want it to be right.
(Okay sorry for the bad essay lmao adios)
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moonsunmermaid · 2 days
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What makes you shine the most ✨? Pick a Pile
Disclaimer: Please remember, this is just a general reading from the collective, apply how it might resonate and take in consideration that tarot readings are not 100% real, you have the power to change your life and yourself anytime. Also please, regarding any kind of health issues this is no game, go to a doctor, I or spirit will never give you any advice regarding your health in this blog.
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1 Alisa . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁2 Hinami. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 3 Yuki . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
1 - Alisa
For those who picked pile 1, the picture of Alisa, you are leaders in your femenine energy. You know the rituals, the words and the movements that have to be made in the precise moment in order to conect people and stay united for the greatest good of love.
I belive you have memories from past lifes on earth and other places and you can easilyh connect through them and bring them to others. Your energy comes from source and you know how to bring love to the table no matter what happens.
You shine the most when you speak and act with your heart pile 1!
2 - Hinami
Picking pile 2 or Hinami, I sense the energy of someone who helps cleanse and purify the world. But this isn't in a creepy way like the evil guy in movies, you do cleanse and purify with love and wisdom, showing your pure proud spirit and not being afraid to take down what doesn't serve anymore in your life.
You are like the strenght, taming a lion is a matter of using your patience and care, not brute strengh. You shine the most when you move through your inner child, through the sense of knowing what's right and what's wrong with no attachements to what society says but being soft and showing people the way through example.
3 - Yuki
Those who picked Yuki or pile number 3, you shine the most when you focus on what's important and keep yourself in balance.
Thinking of Yuki, using your brain only will never help, but using your emotions only either. One must find the middle ground to understand both parts are important and you shine the most when doing that. I bet you are the kind of person people come for advice and if you don't, let me tell you!! you can be really good at giving it!
Let your inner guide work and your light will shine the most. If you are having trouble with this and wonder if this is actuallyh something you are good at, do not dim yourself because once you find the way nothing can stop you from balancing and rebalancing every time, after all that's what happens when we comit ourself to spirituality, growth comes next... and being able to do that is key for growth!
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mymindcreatedthis · 3 days
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Spin the bottle, pick a card w Matilda’s part 1 of 2 18+
Warning: Smut, Smut, Smut!!
Word count: 4.7k
*Y/n's Pov*
It was the first week of camp. We had the next two days and off, me and some of the girls are out shopping.
"Hey would you guys be down for a game night tonight?" Hayley asks.
I notice that she had a card game in her hand. "What is it?" I ask.
Charli grabs the game from Hayleys hand, Charli looks at it and smirks.
"This'll be fun." Charli says.
"What is it?" Kyra asks. She also looks at the game. "Ohh I'm 100% down to play this game." She says.
Kyra tosses the game to me. I catch the game and look at it. It was a sex game, I blush a bit. I read the directions on how to play it.
Basically someone picks a card and has to do whatever the card says. I smirk. "I'll buy it, we can do a little game night tonight." I say.
I hand it to Mackenzie and Alanna so they can look at the game. They smirk and nod. "Agreed."
I smile and nod, I buy the game. We go out for lunch and then head back to the hotel. We go back to our rooms, I open the game and start going through the rules and instructions on how to play the game.
We had dinner and film at 6 pm. It was 3:30 pm right now, I grab my phone and create a group chat with me, Katrina, Kyra, Charli, Steph, Hayley, Mary, Mackenzie and Alanna.
Me: Do you guys wanna play the game after dinner?
Steph: Yes
Kyra: I'm down
Katrina: Sure!
We agree on playing the game after dinner and film.
Me: Who's room should we play the game in?
Mackenzie: I talked to Alanna, we can play the game in our room.
Me: Okay, sounds good.
I swipe up and turn off my phone. I put my phone on the charger, I grab new clothes and go into the bathroom. I strip my clothes and shower. I shower and get cleaned, I finish up in the shower. I dry off and get dressed.
I come back into the room and look at the time, it was now 4 pm. I lay in bed and turn on a random movie until it was time for dinner and film.
5:50 pm rolls around, I turn off the tv. I grab my phone, my wallet, my key card, the card game and put on my slides.
I leave the room and go down to the cafeteria. I grab my food and sit at a table with the girls, we eat and watch the film and then do a Q&A after the film is over.
Coach dismisses us, I grab the card game. The girls and k head back to Mackenzie's and Alanna's room. Alanna closes the door behind us and locks it.
"Do we have a bottle?" I ask.
"Yeah we do." Kenzie says.
She grabs a bottle of whiskey, there was a quarter of whiskey left. Kenzie dumps the rest of the whiskey out and hands me the empty bottle.
"Do we have a piece of card board?" I ask.
"Yup." Alanna smiles and hands me a piece of cardboard.
"Thank you." I get everything set up and smile. "Okay." I clap my hands. "We are still playing the game but we are changing it up a bit." I say.
"Okay so what do we do?" Charli asks.
"So the way we are going it is someone will spin the bottle. Whoever the bottle lands on will pick a card. The person who's pinned the bottle and the person who picked the card have to do what the card says." I trail off. "Make Sense?"
They nod, I smile. "Cool. Who wants to start us off?" I ask.
"I'll go first." Steph says.
Steph spins the bottle and it lands on Charli. "Pick a card love." Steph says.
Charli smiles and picks a card. "Read it out loud." I say.
"Lick whipped cream off someone's body." Charli says.
Steph blushes, she takes off her shirt and bra and sets them off to the side.
Kenzie grabs the whipped cream and puts some on Steph's tits. Charli smirks, Charli locks eyes with Steph as she slowly licks the whipped cream off Steph's tits.
Steph bites her lip and quietly moans as Charli licks off all the cream. Charli smirks and kisses Steph's tits.
"You have a gorgeous body baby." Charli says.
Steph smiles and blushes at Charli's comment. "Thank you."
Steph puts her bra and shirt back on. They sit back down, Steph spins the bottle and it lands on Alanna.
Alanna picks a card. "Beg the person to your right to spank your ass."
I smirk and bite my lip. I was the person to her right, Alanna blushes and bites her lip.
"Come here baby." I say.
*Alanna's Pov*
I blush darkly and get up, Y/n sits on the couch. I bit my lip and blush even more as Y/n bends me over her leg, I moan as Y/n squeezes my ass.
"Mmm such a tight fit ass." Y/n says.
I moan, I was wet from Y/n squeezing my ass. I let out a moan as she firmly spanks my ass.
"Mm fuck Daddy. Please spank me I've been such a good girl." I moan and beg.
Y/n giggles and firmly spanks my ass again. "F-Fuck Y/n." I moan in pleasure.
The girls giggle as they watch Y/n spank and squeeze my ass. Y/n lays me on my stomach on the bed. She giggles and kisses my ass as she squeezes it again.
I bite my lip, I was dripping wet and very turned on. Y/n and the girls giggle, we sit back down. Y/n smirks and spins the bottle, the bottle lands on Katrina.
Katrina smiles and picks a card. "Take a shot, kiss someone and spit the shot in a players mouth." Katrina says.
Katrina blushes, she gets up and grabs a bottle of whiskey. Katrina takes a shot of whiskey and walks over to Y/n and sits on Y/n's lap.
Y/n opens her mouth. Katrina sexily spits the whiskey in Y/n's mouth. Y/n smiles and swallows the whiskey.
Katrina smiles and makes out with Y/n. Y/n places her hands on Katrina ass and squeezes it. Katrina moans in the kiss as Y/n squeezes her ass.
*Y/n's Pov*
Katrina moans in the kiss as I squeeze her ass. After making out for a miniatures Katrina breaks the kiss.
"Wow you're a really good kisser." Katrina says.
I giggle at her comment. "Thanks love. So are you." I say.
We sit back down, Katrina bites her lip and spins the bottle. The bottle lands on Kenzie, Kenzie picks a card. She smirks and blushes a bit.
"Take someone's underwear off with your teeth." Kenzie says.
Katrina blushes darkly, she takes off her shorts and lays on the bed. Kenzie smirks and joins Katrina on the bed and lays between Katrina's legs.
*Katrina's Pov*
I bite my lip and run my fingers through Kenzies hair. I was super wet, she looked so sexy lying between my legs.
The girls bite their lips and watch as Kenzie sexily lowers my panties with her teeth. She sits up, she lifts my legs and slides my panties Down my calf's and slides my panties off.
Kenzie moans and takes a big whiff of my panties. I bite my lip and watch Kenzie do this.
"Fuck, your panties smell amazing." Kenzie says.
Kenzie smirks, she leans down she locks my folds. I gasp and moan as she does this, I moan and run my fingers through her hair.
Kenzie licks my folds one more time and then kisses my clit. "Mm fuck." I moan.
Kenzie comes up and kisses me. I moan in the kiss as I taste myself on her lips.
"Mmm you taste amazing baby." Kenzie says.
I blush darkly at her comment. Fuck I was soaking wet and needed a release. Kenzie was teasing me hard core when she kissed and licked my folds.
I blush, Kenzie giggles and gets up. I get up as well, I keep my panties off and just put my shorts back on. We join the girls and continue playing the game.
Kenzie spins the bottle and it lands on Kyra. Kyra blushes darkly and picks a card, Kyra looks at the card and blushes even more.
"Blind fold someone and kiss and body part." Kyra says.
We giggle, Y/n gets up and grabs a blind fold. Kyra blushes as Y/n puts the blind fold on her. I bite my lip and smirk as Y/n whispers something in Kenzies ear.
Kenzie looks at her and smirks nodding in agreement. Kenzie takes off her shorts and panties, she gets on the couch and gets on all fours.
Y/n guides Kyra over to Kenzie. Y/n makes Kyra kneel behind Kenzie, Y/n smirks and spreads Kenzies ass cheeks with her hands.
Steph smirks as she gets an idea. She goes over to Kyra, Steph grabs Kyra's head and smothers Kyra's face in Kenzies pussy from behind.
*Kyra's Pov*
I blush darkly as Y/n puts a blind fold on me. I bite my lip as Y/n walks me over to the couch and makes me get on my knees.
I feel someone grab my head and push my face forward. I couldn't make out what I was tasting, it was either Kenzies pussy or ass.
I place my hands on Kenzies ass cheeks steading myself. I start kissing and licking Kenzies ass and pussy, I hear Kenzie gasp and moan and feel her push her ass back against my face.
I spit on her ass and pussy and continue to lick her ass and pussy. I hear Kenzie moan.
"Mmm fuck Kyra." I hear her moan.
Kenzie moaning my name turned me on and made me wet, I hear the girls giggle.
"Should we stop them?" I hear Charli ask.
"No.. let them do it for a few more minutes. This is very sexy to watch." I hear Katrina say.
I continue to kiss and lick Kenzies pussy and ass. After 3 more minutes, I feel the person behind me stop me and pull me away.
I feel someone take off the blindfold, I blush darkly when I see Kenzie on all fours in front of me. Y/n and Steph giggle.
"Fuck Kyra, you didn't hesitate at all, you dove right on in." Y/n giggles.
I blush and giggle. "Thank you."
The girls giggle, Kenzie blushes. She bites her lip and puts her panties and shorts back on.
We sit back down, I bite my lip and spin the bottle and it lands on Charlie. Charlie smiles and picks a card.
"Whisper dirty things in someone's ear of what you'd do to them." Charlie says reading off what the card says.
Charli smirks she gets up and sits on my lap. I bite my lip and wrap mg arms around her waist, Charli leans in and nips my ear.
I moan as she slowly grinds against me. Charli stars whispering dirty things to me.
"First I'd make you beg me to fuck you." Charli says.
Her words make me weak and make me shudder, I squeeze my thighs together as I get super wet. Charli continues to whisper sweet nothing in my ear.
"Then I’ll undress you and devour your pussy. Listening to your moans as I eat you out making you grip the sheets." Charli says.
I let out a quiet moan as she continues to slowly grinds against my lap.
"Then I'd make you suck my strap and deep thrust it like the good slut you are." Charli whispers in my ear.
Fuck I was so wet and turned on. Charli would look so sexy with a strap. Charli giggles, she pecks my cheek and gets off my lap. We sit back down and keep playing.
Charli spins the bottle and it lands on Hayley. Hayley smiles and picks a card. "Tease someone of your choosing until they are super horny." Hayley says.
Charli smirks, her and Hayley sit on the couch.
*Charli's Pov*
Hayley sits on the couch. I smirk and sit behind her. Hayley leans back against me, I kiss her neck and slip my hand under her shirt and sports bra and massage her tits.
Hayley leans back against me. "Mmm fuck." she cutely moans.
I kiss her neck and suck on it leaving hickys. Hayley moans in pleasure as I do this and massage her tits a bit rougher.
I slip my other hand in her shorts and panties and swipe my finger up her folds. Hayley gasps and moans as I do this.
"Mm fuck, babe you're soaking wet." I say.
"Mm all of you baby." Hayley cutely says.
I rub my fingers through her folds. Hayley moans in pleasure, I giggle. I slip In two fingers and slowly finger her.
"Mmm f-fuck. Right there, just like that." Hayley moans.
I smirk, I bite my lip as I roughly massage her tits and slowly finger her. I bite my lip, fuck Hayley was super wet.
I finger her slowly for another 2 minutes and stop. I smirk and take my hand out from under her shirt Ana bra. I wanted to taste her really bad, I slip my hand out from her shorts and panties.
I lick and suck her juices off my fingers. Hayley and the girls bite their lips and moans as I do this.
We sit back down and play the game. Hayley spins the bottle and it lands on Mary. Mary picks a card and blushes darkly.
"Strip for a selected player." Mary says.
Hayley smirks "Go head baby l, strip for me." Hayley says.
Mary smirks, Hayley sits on the couch as Mary stands in front of her and slowly strips her clothes. We smirk as we watch Mary give Hayley a strip tease.
Mary smirks, she slowly strips her shirt and tosses it off to the side. Hayley bites her lip as her eyes wander Mary's chest as she's in her sports bra. Mary's cleavage is visible along with her toned abs.
Mary slowly slides her shorts off and tosses them off to the side. Hayley lets out a quiet moan and squeezes her thighs together as she checks out Mary's tight fit ass.
"Fuck Mary your ass looks amazing in those panties." Hayley says.
We giggle at Hayley's comment. Hayley was really enjoying this. Mary giggled. She turns her back to Hayley and slowly slides off her bra and tosses it at Hayley.
Hayley smirks. Mary slowly slides her panties off and bends over teasing Hayley as she slides her panties halfway down her legs giving Hayley a bite of her pussy and ass from behind.
Mary slides her panties off and sling shots then at Hayley. Hayley giggles.
"Mmm such a naughty girl." Hayley says.
Mary giggles she sits in Hayley's lap and makes out with her. Hayley is shocked at first but starts kissing back. Hayley places her hands on Mary's ass and squeezes her ass as they make out.
Mary moans in the kiss as Hayley squeezes her ass. Hayley moans in the kiss as Mary slowly grinds against her lap. Mary breaks the kisses and giggles, she gets off Hayley's lap.
She keeps her bra and panties off but puts her shirt and shorts back on. Hayley and Mary sit back down. Mary spins the bottle and it lands on Y/n.
Y/n smirks and picks a card. "Slip your hand in someone's shorts and touch them until they cum." Y/n says.
Mary blushes darkly as Y/n reads the card out loud.
*Mary's pov*
Y/n and I sit on the couch. The girls giggle as Y/n hold me from behind. Y/n snakes her arms around my waist and kisses my neck.
I bite my lip as Y/n lowers her hand in my shorts and panties and rubs my clit in a circular motion. I moan and lean back against Y/n.
I bite my lip as Y/n kisses my neck and giggles. Y/n swipes my finger up my folds collecting my juices on her finger.
I moan as she does this. Y/n slips in a finger and slowly fingers me. I moan and lean back into her touch and spread my legs giving her full access.
Y/n slips in a second finger and fingers me a bit faster. "Mmm fuck." I moan.
Y/n giggles, she kisses my neck and massages my boobs as she fingers me a bit faster and rubs my clit with her thumb.
I moan and grind against her fingers desperate to cum. "Mmm f-faster." I moan.
Y/n grants my wish and fingers me faster. My legs shake and buckle in pleasure. "Mm Fuck...Fuck."
I moan as I feel that familiar knot forming in my stomach. "Mmm fuck I'm close I moan.
"Cum baby, cum for me." Y/n says as she rubs my clit faster with her thumb.
I moan as I feel myself greeting closer. "Mmm fuck, Y/n please." I beg. "Please let me cum." I beg as I become a moaning mess.
Y/n giggles, the girls watch. "Let go baby, cum. Cum for us." Y/n says seductively.
I can't take it anymore and let go. I cum all over Y/n's fingers and hand and cum in my panties. I bite my lip as my cum stains and leaks through my panties and shorts.
Y/n giggles and kisses my neck. "Good girl." Y/n says.
She helps me ride out my high, once I come down from my high Y/n pulls her fingers out of me, I moan and bite my lip as Y/n licks and sucks my cum and juices off her fingers.
"Mmm you taste amazing." Y/n says.
I take a moment to catch my breath. Once I catch my breath we sit back down and continue playing the game.
Y/n spins the bottle and it lands on Alanna. Alanna picks a card and smirks and reads it out loud.
"List the sexiest thing about every Person then do whatever you want to one of them." Alanna says.
"Kenzie you have an amazing ass. Katrina you have amazing tits, Mary you have a great Cleavage, step you have an amazing tight fit ass, Kyra you are a slut and love to get straight to business, Charli you have some serious skill of sucking tit and kissing a girls tits, Hayley you are sexy when you are a bottom, Y/n you have a huge dick and that's just from looking at your bulge." I say.
They giggle at my comments for each of them. Alanna looks at Kenzie and smirks.
"Lose those shorts and panties. I wanna taste that pussy." Alanna says.
We giggle as Kenzie blushes darkly. Kenzie takes off her shirt, shorts, panties and lays on the bed.
*Kenzie's pov*
I lay on the bed and bite my lip as Alanna sexily crawls towards me on the bed.
Alanna lays between my legs, Alanna smirks and swipes her finger up my folds collecting my juices on her fingers.
I moan in pleasure as she does this. "Mm fuck." I moan in pleasure.
Alanna smirks, she kisses and licks my folds. I moan and run my fingers through her hair. Alanna licks my folds and starts going to town on my pussy. Alanna slips in a finger and slowly fingers me as she eats me out.
"Mm fuck." I moan in pleasure.
Alanna rolls her tongue on my clit adding different amounts of pressure as she fingers me faster and faster.
I gasp and moan as she does this. "Mmm F-Fuck... Fuck." I moan and play with Alanna's hair.
I moan as I feel that familiar knot forming in my stomach. "Lana, baby I'm close." I moan.
I roughly massage my tits as Lana continues to eat me out and fingers me faster. I moan, I can't take it anymore I let go and cum all over Alanna face in her mouth, on her fingers and on her chin.
Alanna helps me ride out my high. Once I come down from my high Lana slowly pulls her fingers out of me. I blush darkly as she licks and sucks my juices off her fingers.
Lana wipes my juices off her face and chin, she comes up and kisses me. I moan in the kiss as I taste myself on her lips.
"Mmm you taste amazing." Alanna says.
I smile and blush as she says this. Alanna giggles and gets off the bed, I take a moment and catch my breath. Once I catch my breath I put my panties and shorts back on.
We sit back down and keep playing the game. I smile and spin the bottle and it lands on Steph. Steph picks a card and smirks.
"Show someone your sex toys and pick someone to use them on." Steph says.
I smirk and bite my lip, Steph giggles and grabs her sex toys. I blush darkly as she showed me a vibrator, butt plug and dildo.
"Hehe I normally just use my fingers." Steph says.
I giggle at her comment. "We can spice it up, I can lube up the dildo or we can use the vibrator and the butt plug." Steph says.
The girls giggle as I blush even more and get shy. "I-I've never used a butt plug before. W-We can do that and the dildo." I say quietly getting shy.
Steph and the girls giggle. I take off my shorts and panties again and lay on the couch.
Steph smirks. "Suck on this slut."
I immediately the dildo on my mouth. I suck it and cover it in Spit, Steph smirks she takes it out of my mouth.
She lifts my legs and slowly slips the butt plug in my ass. I moan as I take the butt plug in my ass.
"F-Fuck." I moan.
Steph grabs the dildo, she sits behind me and spreads my legs with hers. I moan as she teases my clit with her dildo.
I moan as she slowly slide the 10 inch dildo inside me. I moan as I take the dildo deep inside me, I bite my lip as Steph slowly pumps the dildo in and out of my throbbing pussy.
"Fuck Steph. Right there, just like that." I moan.
Steph and the girls giggle at my comment. Steph slides the dildo in and out of me a bit faster. I moan and grip the couch cushions as pleasure travels through my body.
Y/n giggles. "Who knew Y/n was such a slut." Y/n teases.
I giggle and bite my lip. "F-Fuck off." I moan.
They giggle, Steph reaches down and rubs my clit with her thumb as she moves the dildo out of me faster and faster.
I moan loudly in pleasure as Steph as the urge to cum gets stronger. My legs shake and buckle in pleasure as Steph continues to use the dildo on my pussy.
I moan and grip the cushions a bit tighter. After another 2 minutes I moan as I feel that familiar knot forming in my stomach.
"S-Steph baby I'm close." I moan in pleasure.
Steph giggles she rubs my clit faster. I gasp and moan. "Oh f-fuck I'm gonna squirt."
I moan, I squirt like crazy all over her hand, on the dildo, and the couch and on the ground. The girls gasp and giggle as I squirt like a fountain.
I moan my stomach clenches and flexes, my breathing gets heavier letting Steph know that I'm close to cumming.
"Cum baby, be a good girl and cum for us." Steph says seductively.
I moan loudly in pleasure, I can't take it anymore and let go. My legs shake and buckle in pleasure as I cum. I cum all over the dildo, Steph smirks and slowly slides the dildo out of me once she helps me ride out my high.
I moan and throw my head back, Steph smirks and makes out with me. I'm shocked at first but kiss back.
I bite my lip and moan as I watch her lick and suck my cum and juices off the dildo. "Mmm you taste amazing." Steph says.
I blush at her comment. "Thank you." I say.
I moan as Steph reaches down slowly pulls the butt plug out of my ass. I moan, I catch my breath and put my panties and shorts back on.
Steph cleans the toys. We sit back down and keep playing the game, Steph spins the bottle and it lands on Kyra. Kyra picks a card.
*Kyra's Pov*
I read the card and blush darkly at what it says. "Make someone's sexual fantasy come true." I say reading the card.
Steph blushes darkly, I grab the strap on and look at Steph. "Take off your shirt, shorts and panties and lay on the bed."
Steph blushes and does as I say. Steph takes off her shirt, shorts and panties and tosses them off to the side and lays on the bed. She was only in her sports bra now.
I smirk, I take off my shirt, shorts and panties and slip on the strap on. I lube up the dildo, I join Steph on the bed. Steph spreads her legs and bites her lip as she checks out the 11 inch dildo.
"Like what you see baby?" I ask teasing her.
Steph blushes and nods. "You look sexy wearing a strap." Steph says.
Steph bites her lip and moans as I rub the rubber tip through her folds. Steph moans as I do this, Steph moans as I slowly slide all 11 inches inside her.
"Mmm fuck." Steph moans.
I smirk, and let her adjust to my size. "Tell me when to move baby." I say.
The girls giggle at me and Steph. "Who would've thought Kyra would strap Steph and put Steph in her place." Katrina giggles.
Y/n giggles. "Are we certain she's a virgin? She seems like she knows what she's doing with a strap on." Y/n says.
I giggle and blush at her comment. "M-Move." Steph cutely moans.
I nod, I hover over her and slowly thrust in and out of her. I moan as the other end of the dildo pleasures my pussy as well.
"F-Faster." Steph moans.
I smirk, I moan and thrust into her faster than before. Steph's tits bounce up and down under her sports bra as I continue to fuck her with the strap on.
"Mmm fuck, feels so good." Steph cries out in pleasure.
I moan as the opposite end of the dildo pleasures my pussy. "Mmm feels amazing against my clit." I moan.
Steph wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me closer to her as I thrust in and out of her faster and faster.
"Fuck....Fuck....Fuck." Steph squeaks out with each thrust.
I moan, my legs shake in pleasure as the other end of the dildo rubs my pussy and makes me cum.
"Fuck I'm cumming." Steph moans.
I smirk as I feel her juices on my abs and on my thighs. I help Steph ride out her high, Steph comes down from my high and I slowly pull out of her.
Steph lays there panting and trying to catch her breath. Once she catches her breath she puts her shirt, panties and shorts back on.
I giggle and kiss her, Steph smiles against my lips and kisses back. I slip the strap on off and put my clothes back on, I smile and spin the bottle and it lands on Charli.
Charli smiles and picks a card
To be continued in Part 2!
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dollieseo · 1 day
Text
TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME AGAIN.
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SYNOPSIS. you unintentionally became close to ning yizhuo as trainees. she made it into aespa, you didn’t. after you left sm and debuted with le sserafim, the desire to reconnect is heavy, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.
FEATURING. ningning x le sserafim 6th member reader
WARNINGS. none, maybe a little angsty tho idk
AUTHORS NOTE. first fic hello!! inspired by this song
WORD COUNT. 2.4k
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you came to sm entertainment with the sole purpose of becoming an idol. it’s all you’ve ever wanted since you were eight years old. it wasn’t to make friends or build relationships; you wanted to work.
you kept to yourself during your trainee period, never really getting close to anyone. the trainee system was a twisted game and one small mistake could get you sent home. you’ve seen it happen with other trainees who were friends. one would be let go and the other left without their other half. you didn’t want any of that to get in the way of your goal.
ning yizhuo joined the company a year after you did. she was young, only a year younger than you. you remember the first time you officially met her in the practice room, which was completely by accident by the way.
as you walked through the company halls, going to your reserved practice time, you could faintly hear music playing from the practice room, which you found odd. you decided to slowly crack the door open to peek through and saw the younger girl practicing the choreography to into the new world. you know that she was new, maybe two weeks in? it makes sense that she wouldn’t know about your routine. you debated on just leaving and finding a different room, but decide against it.
as soon and you fully entered the practice room she seemed to take notice, jumping in surprise and instantly turning to greet you. you watched as she rushed to turn the music off, it was a little comedic. she hesitantly walked towards you, not really knowing what to say. you could sense the confusion on her face.
“this is my usual rehearsal time here,” you begin, and before yizhuo can spew out apologies, you continue, “it’s okay, you didn’t know.”
“i’m sorry, i can leave,” she managed, looking down at the floor. you feel a little bad, figuring she was probably embarrassed. you sigh, “no, it’s okay,”
‘what the fuck are you doing?’
“you’re practicing into the new world, right?”
she nods.
“we can practice together.” you decide. her face lights up, eyes gleaming, but you instantly regret you words. normally, you prefer practicing alone and being the only person to see the process of fixing your flaws and improving. but going by her reaction she probably wouldn’t think to judge you on anything.
“really?” she asks and you nod, walking towards the speaker to turn the music back on. “come on.”
you and yizhuo spend the next few hours practicing (more like you spend most of the time practicing while she stands there watching, admiring your movements). you were a dancer long before you joined sm, so you ended up helping her with the choreography after seeing her struggle, giving her tips and pointers to help her improve. you thought it was cute how intensely she took in your every word, mentally taking note of every detail you told her.
since that day she insisted on sticking with you. as much as you internally protested, you didn’t do much to keep her away. how could you? she was, what, barely 14? and she was new to the industry. even though you were only a year older than her, you didn’t have the heart to leave her on her own.
the two of you grew close unexpectedly fast, practicing together whenever you didn’t have individual lessons, spending hours in the practice room sometimes not even doing anything, just sitting against the mirrors and having random conversations that ended with both of you in tears from laughing so hard. as time went on, it became relatively known around the company that the two of you were a duo, not one left without the other.
as much as you like yizhuo, or ningning as she would be called after being introduced as an sm rookie, you always curse yourself thinking back to your previous views on building relationships as a trainee. you still have that opinion, but even as the two of you grew up you can’t bring yourself to stay away from her. you don’t want to.
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after about four years together, the time came for sm’s newest girl group to be officially formed. for the last few months the company played with lineup, adding and removing girls almost every few weeks. you and ningning were apart of the group of girls considered for the final lineup, along with yu jimin and kim minjeong.
after what felt like an eternity of uncertainty, the company finally announced who would be in the final lineup. many were sure that you would be included, being an sm rookie who ranked highly at monthly evaluations. you were confident too.
however, while you all were practicing, a staff member brought in another girl and asked you to come out. you recognized her as uchinaga aeri, who only joined the company a few months ago. you looked around skeptically, but followed the staff member out of the room and into the hallway.
honestly, you can’t really recall everything that was said to you. all you remember is something along the lines of your removal and the world falling silent. everything stopped in that moment and you wondered if you were dreaming. you didn’t want to believe it but the somber look on the staff’s face solidified it for you.
you didn’t make it.
that day, you left practice early. yizhuo, along with jimin, minjeong, and aeri had to stay later to practice for their debut. before you left, you stopped to give yizhuo a hug, reassuring and congratulating her. you could tell that she was having mixed emotions. she was happy to debut but she wanted to do it with you. though her face was buried into your shoulder, you heard her mutter a ‘i’ll see you later,’ before letting go.
she didn’t expect to see your side of the room empty when she came back to the dorms that night. all of your belongings; polaroids on the wall, your comforter that she preferred sleeping on more than her own, everything you had was gone. and you didn’t even tell her.
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you joined source music about two years later, being added to their debut team almost instantly along with two former iz*one members, sakura and chaewon, and huh yunjin, who you recognized from produce 48 and swore you’ve seen around the sm building a few times. kazuha and eunchae joined not too long after you did, and at first you were a bit threatened by their addition. you feared that they were your replacements and that it’d only be a matter of time before you’d be cut from the group.
however, the six of you worked amazingly together, and after getting over the initial doubt, got along great. you all had that balance of being genuine friends and colleagues. you finally felt like things were going your way.
the success of le sserafim’s debut was massive, some mixed reviews about the title track, but the album sold well and you guys got a few music show wins, which you never would’ve imagined for your debut.
as time went on, your career only went up. you attended award shows, held concerts, had fans. you were living your dream, and although you never expected it to be with these girls, you were happy nonetheless.
you thought about ningning a lot. it was hard not to, now that you were an idol. le sserafim and aespa were always in the same conversation when it came to top 4th generation girl groups. you felt indifferent about it. you wanted to move on from the past, but you were also glad that both of you were able to achieve your dreams, even if it wasn’t together.
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you don’t get many days off being in the prime of your career, which you’ve always expected. today though, as comeback promotions for unforgiven came to an end, you hoped to spend today laying in bed and watching netflix, allowing your body to reset from such a hectic schedule.
keyword: hoped.
the sound of your phone ringing makes you dramatically groan. silently hoping it wasn’t anyone important you glance at your phone to see an unsaved phone number. normally, you’re told not to answer calls from unknown numbers, the main reason being that it’ll most likely be a sasaeng. but you recognize this number, even though it isn’t saved in your phone.
“hello?”
“unnie.”
you’ve played a thousand different scenarios in your head, thinking of what to say in any situation where you would see yizhuo again. yet when that time finally came, all of your hypotheticals went completely out the window. you didn’t think her calling you would be that first interaction in three years.
“how’d you get my number?” is what you decide to say. you changed your number after leaving sm, but you still remembered hers.
“minjeong unnie gave it to me,” she answered. you internally curse, figuring she got your number from chaewon. it’s not like you’re mad or upset that she called, you just weren’t expecting it nor were you prepared for it.
“can you come over to the dorms? i wanna talk to you.” yizhuo asks.
“we’re talking right now,” you play dumb. again, you’re not prepared for this.
“i mean in person, unnie.”
you think about giving her the excuse of being busy, you should give her that excuse. but you don’t know when you’ll both be free to talk again. you want to take that opportunity.
“okay,” you decide.
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your arrival to aespa’s dorm surprises all of the members. jimin, who answers the door, instantly wraps you in a hug and aeri and minjeong, who were sitting on the couch jump up to do the same the moment they see you.
you tell them that yizhuo invited you over and jimin lets you know that she’s in their room. you thank her and head over, giving the cracked door two light knocks before fully opening it.
you’ve seen her around and on tv this past year so it wasn’t like you really haven’t seen her in three years, but your breath still hitches when you lay eyes on her. when she sees you, she smiles widely. it reminds you of when you two were trainees.
“you came!”
you snorted, “did you think i wasn’t?” you gently close the door behind you before crossing your arms and slowly walking towards her bed where she was sitting.
“you could’ve,” she shrugs. “considering you left without telling me, you could’ve not come and not told me.”
you sigh and sit down next to her. “i’m sorry.”
that day, and the many days following, hurt. it hurt you to feel like you spent so much time working hard just to fail. you didn’t think it would hurt yizhuo nearly as much. you didn’t think about how much she missed you or how long she spent crying after realizing you had left.
the room falls silent, both of you unsure of what else to say to each other. there’s a million things you two could talk about but neither of you do, afraid of rehashing more bad memories. instead you make yourself comfortable and lie back, resting you hand on your stomach. yizhuo does the same and the silence becomes comfortable, both of you cherishing this moment; being together again.
“i was in love with you, you know.” you decide to casually let out, hiding the nervousness in your voice. you’re scared of how she’ll respond. she could laugh in your face, or just straight up reject you, even though you weren’t exactly confessing, and make things awkward again.
but yizhuo does the opposite of what you were expecting.
“you were?” she suddenly sits up and locks eyes with you. you think she looks like a doll with her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. you take a moment to admire her while she takes that moment to fully comprehend what you said. her mouth closes and her eyes furrow at her realization. “was,” she repeats, tilting her head. “you’re not anymore?” her voice goes quiet, as if she’s scared to ask. maybe she was, but why?
“not really,” you glance at her before looking back towards the ceiling. you don’t want to see her reaction, though you can feel her entire body deject into the bed and hear her mumble a small ‘oh’.
“why not?”
“hm?”
“why don’t you love me anymore?”
“i don’t know if you noticed, yizhuo, but i’ve been avoiding you since you debuted. kinda hard to keep feelings for someone you don’t see anymore.” it seems harsh but you hope your light hearted tone doesn’t make it sound that way.
“you didn’t have to avoid me. i would still been your friend─”
“it wasn’t about you,” you interrupt, sighing before finally sitting up to fully face her. “i was pissed and jealous and seeing you on tv would’ve only made me hate you. i don’t want to hate you.”
even after you debuted in le sserafim you tried to avoid her, and all of aespa for that matter. it was nothing against the girls but you couldn’t help the bitterness that filled you when you thought about the fact that you didn’t make the lineup.
you figured she’d have more to say after you revealed the truth, but nothing came out of her mouth. you could only read the disappointment on her face.
“what, were you expecting something different?” you ask after a long period of uncomfortable silence.
“i was hoping you’d say that you still love me,” she reveals, opting to look at her hands placed in her lap rather than at you.
“why?” you already know the answer. you just want to hear her say it.
“because i loved you,” she pauses, “and i never stopped.”
oh.
you should’ve known that something like this would happen, and maybe you did. maybe there was a rational part of your brain screaming at you not to go see her and you just didn’t listen. maybe deep down you still loved her, but the fear of losing again repressed that love. yizhuo or your career? you don’t know. the idol industry is a twisted game where one small mistake could cost you your entire career and if you have to lose one, you figure that losing the chance of loving her is better than losing the career you both worked years for.
“i’m sorry, yizhuo.” you whisper. it’s all you can muster up to say. you tell yourself that it’s better this way. sure, she’s hurt now but she’ll get over it. just like you did, or at least pretended to.
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another-goblin · 2 days
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Doc and Gambler: An essay A disjointed musing
I've been thinking about the words they use to address or refer to each other. Gambler and Doctor are rather special nicknames. I can't think of other characters who talk to each other a lot but avoid calling each other by actual names so deliberately.
First of all, of course I can see it as a sign of their relationship. They are old friends, so it makes sense that they have cute special names for each other.
Can there be other explanations?
1. We never see them use each other's actual first names.
It's understandable with Aventurine. If he's ever comfortable being called Kakavasha, it's definitely not now. And I can understand if he'd prefer Kakavasha to just remain a happy, innocent child in his memories forever.
It's more interesting with Ratio. Nobody calls him just "Veritas" (I think?..) He's referred to as Veritas Ratio in some official situations in his character stories. Even his elderly professor, who talks about teaching Ratio when he was a child, only calls him "Ratio."
Actually, I remember a theory that "Veritas" isn't a personal name but a kind of honorific. Maybe a title that Veritas University gives to its most distinguished members. But if Veritas is his actual first name, then I think it's quite significant that nobody seems to call him that. Especially while all of the other characters who have identifiable western-style first and second names are mostly referred to by their first name. (I'm sorry, I don't know how the Xianzhou characters' names work.)
A little off topic, but is Ratio even his real name? According to the wiki, his full name means "truth of the matter," and his Chinese name means "doctor truth." What a coincidence that a person with such a name became a famous scientist. Although there can be other explanations too.
2. They do use each other's more commonly used names sometimes (I think Ratio called him Aventurine once in the game when discussing him with us, and Aventurine addressed Ratio by name a couple of times). But it's mostly nicknames. Mostly Doc(tor) and Gambler, but also "learned professor," "knowledgeable friend," and a hundred of silly ways Ratio refers to Aventurine. I made a whole post about it long ago.
3. Can it be because all of their direct interaction happened in Penacony, in the middle of a murder mystery somewhat reminiscent of the board game Clue, with our little "Mrs. Peacock" and "Professor Plum" here just imitating the naming conventions of such a game? Like archetypes from a classical detective story, where most characters can be described with one word like that. But it's a bit of a crack theory.
4. The only situation we saw them talking to each other was when they had to play their roles for Sunday.
It's interesting that Sunday later proceeds to call Ratio just "doctor" or "learned doctor" too, the way Aventurine did. I mean, strictly speaking, there isn't anything unusual in calling a doctor "doctor", but it's funny in an awkward way. Imagine two close friends having special names for each other. And then a complete stranger who's been eavesdropping starts using these names too. Umm, that's "Dr. Ratio", Mr. Sunday, thank you very much.
Btw, that's another point to the theory that Sunday only knows (and tries to use against them) the things they deliberately fed him through their conversations.
So it might be that they did it deliberately for Sunday to hear. Like, see? we are so not friends that we don't even call each other by name. But then we see them using similar words when mentioning each other while talking to other people, and in Aventurine's thoughts too (in mission descriptions during Double Indemnity).
5. Although it might still be the way for them to try and distance themselves from each other, at least verbally, trying to deny the obvious special connection between them.
6. Or maybe it's about their "masks". They both have public personas to hide their real selves behind. (Ratio directly tells us about it and wears a literal mask to hide behind, and Aventurine's whole Harmony ordeal was basically to show his inner self, so unlike the confident and cocky Aventurine other people know.)
But they know each other better and see deeper than just their public personas of "Aventurine" and "Dr. Ratio". And it's still too early in their relationship to prod deeper ("Kakavasha" and "Veritas"). So a secret third thing it is.
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floweycidal · 3 days
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Is it just me or does flowey get humbled in both genocide and pacifist routes?
Genocide because he felt the pain and fear he caused others
Pacifist is pretty self explanatory
to say flowey was humbled would be an understatement. bro really did all this just to lose LMFAO
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on a serious note, you're right. flowey does get humbled. in every route, actually. that is because he is destined to lose. to me, the world seemed like it just never accounted for his revival, nor did it consider anything that might spring from his existence.
flowey's entire life was built around frustration, a world that spun on without him, leaving him behind like an afterthought. no matter how many resets he triggered, how many paths he took, he never found meaning. nothing he did felt real, nothing produced anything that lasted. he was drowning in the monotony, in the overwhelming sense that the universe was dull and utterly uncaring about whether he was there or not.
this is where his delirium n obsession begins. if the world wouldn’t offer him anything worthwhile, he’d take it. if the universe ignored him, he would force it to notice. he became consumed with the need for control, desperate to pull the strings, to carve out something, anything meaningful in a life that had none.
but regardless of what he did, it was never enough. he saw every outcome, lived every route, read every book, burned every book. he spared everyone, he killed everyone. none of it ever amounted to anything.
the same faces, the same hollow conversations, the same endless loop. every time, it brought him right back to where he started, as if he hadn’t done a thing.
that was the real cruelty. whatever he tried, the outcomes were always the same, predictable and unfulfilling, none of them going in a way that truly satisfied him. they bored him, wore him down, as though the universe was mocking his every effort. every route he took, every decision he made led to nothing substantial. he was losing interest. his reasons for living were dwindling, fast.
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the world went on, indifferent to his suffering, and that very apathy ate away at him. it drove him crazy out of his mind.
then you came along. suddenly, there was hope. a perverted kind of hope that maybe this time would be different. you could finally bring about something authentic into his life, your unpredictability a breath of fresh air. it was a flutter of change in a universe that had otherwise forsaken him.
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in geno, flowey is almost thrilled by the chaos you cause. he praises you, revels in your violence, as if your cruelty is proof that his worldview was right all along. you become the demon he always believed you could be. and for a brief instant, he feels justified, even vindicated. but even that falls flat bc in the end, you take things further than he ever could. you tear through the world with a coldness that makes even him tremble. he’s staring down the barrel of his own logic, realizing that in a world where you’ve killed everyone, you’re going to kill him too. the power he used to reset everything, to cheat death, means nothing now. he’s left with nothing but terror. whoever convinced him he was in control? #humbled
in neutral, flowey tries one more time. he taunts you, eggs you on, hoping that at least in death, he can prove that the world is as cruel and merciless as he always believed.
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but when you spare him, when you refuse to give him that twisted validation, it’s the ultimate rejection of everything he stands for. mercy is the one thing he can’t handle because it'll just mean he was wrong. you don’t have to be violent to win. you don’t have to be cruel to survive. so... he flees. #humbled
in pacifist, flowey is convinced this is it. he is god. he finally wields the power to keep you here with him. you'll play his game over and over again, and this time, he’s sure it will work. but as fate would have it, you break through his defenses, restoring the lost souls and calling out to him with a warmth that disarms him completely.
he’s left flabbergasted as his power falters against your unwavering spirit. for all his might, he realizes he’s lost control (again). all his efforts to grasp at godhood collapse, leaving him to reckon with the reality that his power meant nothing in the presence of true compassion. #HUMBLEDD
all flowey ever wanted was a single victory. just One. in a life stripped of everything dear, where he was left with only emptiness, he yearned to believe that if he held on tightly enough, if he played his cards just right, he could finally win. but that outcome was always just out of reach.
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it slipped away like everything else. it simply was not meant to be.
flowey's most formidable foe was ultimately himself. as it turns out, his refusal to let go is what truly condemned him.
for letting go meant accepting chara was gone, and nothing could ever return to how it was.
for letting go meant remaining a soulless flower, trapped in a dismal existence, endlessly tormented by his loss and incapacity to love as he once did.
for letting go meant confronting the unsettling possibility that he might never find joy again.
for letting go meant accepting that perhaps, after everything, there genuinely was nothing left for him.
...is it really any wonder, then, that he sought out control with such pitiful desperation?
siiiiiigh
i'm not sure how we ended up here, but.... thanks for the ask, anon!
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ssa-dado · 20 hours
Text
6 - Synthesis
Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader
Genre: angst, fluff, slow burn
Summary: After an intense case, you and Hotch struggle with unresolved tensions from a previous argument. On the train back, Hotch overhears Peter comforting you about a recent tragedy, realizing he’s been blind to your pain. Later, Hotch unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, opening up and apologizing for his emotional distance, leading to a heartfelt moment of mutual vulnerability. That evening, you attend Peter’s welcome-back party, feeling lighter and reconnecting with the team. That's when Peter makes an unusual bet with you.
Warnings: death, grief, emotional abuse, domestic violence, family dysfunction.
Word Count: 7.6k
Dado's Corner: Phi posting two chapters in less than 12 hours? More likely than you think. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t help myself. Thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve shown for the series so far! Each of you holds a special place in my cold little heart. Please don’t hate me after this - it hurts me, too - but hey, there’s some interrogation room Aaron to sweeten things up. I’m particularly proud of this cute, lovely chapter. It doesn’t make me want to jump out the window. Not even a little bit. Embrace the pain.
previous part ; masterlist
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Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”
The observation room was dimly lit, casting long, uneven shadows over you and Peter as you stood behind the two-way mirror, your heartbeat seemed to echo in the quiet, barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent light. You watched Hotch on the other side, preparing to interrogate the suspect, he appeared calm as usual, wearing his mask of stoicism proudly on his face, but you could tell the tension was palpable.
The room beyond the glass was stark, the suspect sat at the metal table gleaming under the harsh light with a smug expression, arms casually draped over the back of his chair, utterly unbothered. Te view was borderline infuriating.
The hair on your arms stood up, not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had settled over the case. You couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you were grasping at straws, the weight of the local police’s blunders pressing heavily on your chest. They had fumbled, and badly. Critical evidence had slipped through their fingers, lost or contaminated in the chaos. You didn’t even want to hear the whole story—you were too furious, your senses shutting down as the same detective who had once doubted your work stumbled through a pathetic apology. All you had now was Hotch. No physical proof, no solid evidence to tie this man to the crimes you knew he’d committed.
Your gaze flicked back to the suspect, his arrogance nauseating. He knew the game, knew the system, and worse, he knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. There was a clock ticking in your mind, every second precious, the sense of urgency suffocating. If Hotch couldn’t break him - if he couldn’t find a way past the layers of lies and smug indifference - you’d lose him. You couldn’t afford that, not now.
Peter’s jaw clenched as he observed the scene, his frustration evident. “This was a mistake,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We warned them not to bring him in without something solid. Now we’re stuck trying to clean up their mess.”
You nodded, your mind still reeling from the argument with Hotch the night before, as if all of this mess wasn’t already enough for your nerves to handle. The tension between you two had lingered, unresolved and heavy, adding another layer to your frustration. You tried to shake it off, but it clung to you, making it even harder to focus. “Yeah, and now Hotch has to pull off a miracle,” you said, your voice tinged with both a tinge of annoyance and worry. “He’s got one shot to get this right.”
Peter turned his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes narrowing as Hotch sat across from the suspect. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. I’ve seen Hotch work multiple times, and somehow he even looks sharper, more intense.”
Inside the room, Hotch began his interrogation with a measured calm, his eyes locked on the suspect, who lounged back in his chair, exuding a quiet confidence. Hotch started with the basics, the routine questions meant to establish rapport, but the suspect was playing his own game, answering with a smug smile and evasive nonchalance.
Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms as he observed the suspect’s every move, every twitch. “You’ve been careful,” Hotch said, his voice steady but probing. “I’ll give you that. You’ve covered your tracks well. But you slipped up, everyone makes mistakes, especially when they think they’re untouchable.”
The suspect smirked, feigning boredom. “You’re wasting your breath, Agent Hotchner. You and I both know you have nothing on me - no evidence, no witnesses. You’re grasping at straws.”
Hotch’s gaze remained unflinching, but you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he leaned in just slightly, narrowing the space between the two of them. “You’re right, we don’t have physical evidence, but we do have you, and that’s enough. Because here’s the thing - you’re not as smart as you think you are. You’ve made this personal, and personal is messy.”
The suspect chuckled, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if this were a game to him. “Oh, please. I’ve seen every tactic in the book, and I’ve got an answer for all of them. You can’t intimidate me, Hotchner. I know my rights. You’ve got nothing.”
Hotch’s expression remained stoic, but there was a flash of determination in his eyes. “You think this is about intimidation? You’re missing the point. This isn’t about fear, it’s about you and the mistakes you’ve made. You’ve left a trail, little hints of who you really are. You think you’ve hidden them, but they’re there, buried in the details.”
The suspect’s confident facade faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, scoffing. “You’re reaching. This isn’t some TV show where the bad guy breaks down in a dramatic confession. I’m not saying a damn thing without my lawyer.”
Hotch’s demeanor shifted, a cold, calculating edge creeping into his voice. “Your lawyer? You think your lawyer’s going to save you? They’ll do their job, make sure you’re comfortable, make sure you feel safe. But at the end of the day, they’re not in here with you, they’re not the ones facing the consequences of your actions - you are. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
From the other side of the glass, you watched Hotch methodically chip away at the suspect’s arrogance. Each line of questioning was a carefully placed strike, designed to weaken his resolve, but the suspect wasn’t giving in easily. He deflected, twisted Hotch’s words, and tried to turn the conversation back on him.
“You think you’re so righteous, don’t you?” the suspect sneered, leaning forward with a glint of disdain in his eyes. “Sitting there, acting like you’ve got the moral high ground. You don’t know me, Agent Hotchner. You don’t know a damn thing about what I’ve been through, the people I’ve dealt with - you think you’re better than me?”
Hotch didn’t flinch even if the last words reminded him of the argument he had with you down at the lobby. “No, I don’t think I’m better than you, but I do know who you are. You’re the guy who blames everyone else when things go wrong, the guy who hides behind his intellect because he’s too scared to admit he’s just another coward trying to prove he’s not afraid. But guess what? That act doesn’t work on me.”
The suspect’s composure slipped, his anger flaring as Hotch hit a nerve. “You don’t get to judge me! You sit there like you’re some kind of saint, but you’re just as flawed as the rest of us. You have no right—”
Hotch cut him off sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. “You’re right. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes, and I own them. But I’m not the one hiding behind excuses, you are. You’re the one who thinks he can play God, decide who deserves to live or die based on your twisted sense of justice. But here’s the thing: you’re not in control, not anymore.”
From the observation room, you felt your chest tighten. Hotch was relentless, pushing the suspect further than you’d ever seen him push anyone before. It was as if he’d tapped into something raw and unforgiving, something that drove him to keep going, to tear down every last defense the suspect had.
Peter glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “I’ve never seen him go this hard. It’s like he’s on a mission.”
You nodded, the tension from last night’s argument still simmering inside you. You knew why Hotch was pushing himself like this: because of you, because of the unresolved words between you, and because he needed to prove something, maybe even to himself. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”
Inside the room, the suspect’s attitude was crumbling. Hotch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, laced with a quiet menace. “You think you’re untouchable, that you’ve covered all your bases. But I’ve spent years in courtrooms taking down men just like you, men who thought they were too smart to get caught. I know every trick, every lie, every pathetic attempt to weasel your way out of the truth.”
The suspect’s face tightened, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to maintain control. But Hotch was unrelenting, his gaze piercing through every layer of the man’s defenses. “You don’t want to admit it, but you’re scared, I can see it in your eyes. You’re terrified that the truth is going to come out, that all your carefully crafted lies are going to fall apart right in front of you - so, here’s your last chance. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you did it.”
There was a beat of silence, a heavy pause as the suspect’s composure finally shattered. His shoulders slumped, his defiance giving way to resignation. He looked up at Hotch, defeated and angry, his voice breaking as he finally confessed, each word a bitter surrender. “Fine. Fine, you want the truth? I did it. I killed them. But you have no idea why. You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless.”
“No you’re right, I don’t.” Hotch sat back, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, though his expression remained guarded: he had what he needed. The confession was out, raw and unfiltered, pulled from the depths of the suspect’s desperation.
Peter let out a low whistle, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. “That was... intense. I’ve never seen Hotch like that, he’s kind of intimidating.”
You nodded in agreement, your gaze still fixed on Hotch as he calmly gathered his notes, preparing to leave the room. You could see the toll it had taken on him, the emotional weight he carried even as he walked out victorious, and as much as you wanted to celebrate the success, the confrontation from the night before still lingered, leaving you with the unsettling realization that this fight wasn’t just with the suspect - it was within Hotch himself.
When Hotch stepped out of the interrogation room, the tension in his posture seemed to ease, but only slightly. His face was set in its usual mask of calm control, yet there was a heaviness in his eyes, a flicker of something raw that he couldn’t quite hide. Peter clapped him on the back, a mix of admiration and relief in his expression. “Hell of a job, Hotch. You tore him apart. I’ve seen you work, but that was something else entirely.”
Hotch gave a tight nod, his jaw still clenched, but his gaze was already shifting past Peter, landing on you. His eyes were searching, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction, seeking some unspoken acknowledgment from you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice measured but tinged with exhaustion. “It had to be done.”
You stood there with your arms crossed, leaning against the wall, trying to maintain a composed exterior, but inside, you were anything but calm. Watching Hotch in that room, ruthlessly tearing down the suspect’s defenses, stirred something deep within you. It was impressive, yes, but also unsettling. You had never seen him so relentless, so driven - and you knew exactly what was fueling his determination.
As Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, there was a silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgment of the emotional battlefield you both were navigating. The words from your argument the night before still echoed in your mind, sharp and unresolved, like an open wound that hadn’t had the chance to heal. The case had forced you both to set your personal issues aside, but now, in the aftermath, they were still there, hovering between you like a shadow neither of you could ignore.
Peter glanced between the two of you, sensing the charged atmosphere but choosing not to comment. He knew better than to pry, but even he could tell that whatever was going on between you and Hotch went deeper than the usual tension of a difficult case. “We got what we needed,” Peter said, trying to break the silence. “That’s what matters. Now we can finally put this bastard away.”
Hotch nodded, but his eyes never left yours, and in that moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a silent standoff where neither of you knew how to take the next step. You wanted to say something, anything that would bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check.
The triumph of the confession felt hollow against the weight of what was still left unsaid. You and Hotch had always been able to read each other, but now, standing on opposite sides of this unspoken rift, it was as if the connection you’d relied on had fractured. There was so much you wanted to ask him: why he’d pushed so hard, why he seemed so desperate to prove something today, and why he couldn’t let his guard down, even for a moment. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing back the questions that burned at the back of your throat. “You did what you had to do,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it wavered slightly. “Good work, Hotch.”
Hotch’s gaze softened for a brief second, a flicker of regret or maybe gratitude crossing his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice lower, more personal than before. “We all did.”Peter’s presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone, but it didn’t ease the tension that thrummed between you and Hotch. As Hotch turned to leave, the weight of your argument still hung heavy, unresolved, and painful. You watched him go, the distance between you feeling wider than ever, despite being just a few feet apart.
And as you stood there, with Peter by your side and the echo of Hotch’s footsteps fading down the corridor, you realized that the hardest part of this case wasn’t just about catching a killer, it was about facing the fractures in your own relationships, the ones that no amount of profiling or interrogation could ever fix.
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was a dull, constant noise that filled the otherwise quiet cabin. You sat alone, your head down and your pen moving steadily across the paper as you filled out your case report. It was a task you’d thrown yourself into, your way of avoiding the one thing you weren’t ready to confront: Hotch.
Hotch sat a few rows behind you, his back to you, mirroring your actions as he worked on his own report with a similar intensity. It was almost poetic how the two of you were so much alike: both of you throwing yourselves into your work to avoid the harder truths, and neither willing to make the first move toward reconciliation.
As you focused on your writing, you heard footsteps approach. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Peter; you’d recognized the casual confidence in his stride from a mile away. He slid into the seat beside you without asking, his presence a familiar and oddly comforting interruption.
Peter glanced at your half-filled report, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You never could sit still, could you?” he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of fondness. “Always working, always thinking.”
You tried to muster a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just trying to get this done before we get back,” you said, your tone evasive. You knew why he’d come over, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the conversation you’d been avoiding since you’d seen him again.
Peter watched you for a moment, his expression shifting from casual to serious. He took a deep breath, glancing at the report before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since I got back, but I didn’t want to bring it up while we were in the middle of the case.”
You stiffened, knowing exactly what he was going to say but hoping he wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your dad’s funeral,” Peter said, his voice heavy with regret. “I wanted to be, but I was stuck overseas. I hate that I wasn’t there.”
You clenched your jaw, staring down at the paper in front of you, your pen hovering uselessly above the page. The memories of that day flooded backstanding at the grave, the heavy weight of loss pressing down on your chest, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly alone. You’d been surrounded by people, but none of them had truly understood, none of them had been him.
“It’s fine, Pete,” you said, though your voice was shaky. “You were doing your job. Besides, it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”
Peter shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s not okay. You were always there for me, even when we were just kids trying to figure out what the hell we were doing with our lives. And I couldn’t even show up when you needed me the most.”
Peter studied you, his eyes searching yours. He could see the cracks you were trying so desperately to hide, the way you were holding yourself together with sheer willpower. “I should have been there,” he insisted gently. “I know how much you went through with him… I remember everything you told me about him.”
A knot formed in your throat as you thought back to your childhood, your father’s relentless work ethic, his unyielding drive for perfection. He had been your hero in so many ways, but he’d also been your downfall. You’d inherited his toxic trait of overworking yourself, the constant need to be better, to be more. It was how you’d coped with the chaos at home, the screaming matches between your parents that had been your daily soundtrack. Your mother, exasperated and exhausted, would often switch languages mid-argument to keep you in the dark, to protect you - or maybe just to exclude you - from the mess they had created.
“I was just a kid, you know?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “All I wanted was to understand why they were always fighting. I started learning every language my mom switched to, Italian, Spanish, anything that would give me a clue, but instead of finding answers, I just… found more reasons to stay away.”
Peter’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he listened. “You drowned yourself in books, in knowledge, just to escape,” he said, his voice low. “I remember you telling me that once, how you’d sit in those lecture halls at the university, absorbing everything because it was better than being home.”
Your childhood had been filled their voices rising in heated exchanges that always seemed to end in silence, your father retreating to his study to bury himself in more work, and your mother seeking solace in her books. To escape the turbulence at home, you’d thrown yourself into your studies with a fervor that bordered on obsession. You’d devoured literature, philosophy, psychology, anything that could distract you from the reality of your parents’ failing marriage, to gain a semblance of control in a world that often felt chaotic and out of reach.
You had become fluent in the languages they used to hide their pain from you, and in doing so, you became fluent in the art of distancing yourself from your own emotions. The habit of overworking, of pouring yourself into every task with unrelenting focus, was something you had learned from your father, a toxic legacy that you couldn’t quite shake, even now. It had been the source of countless arguments with your mother, who had begged you not to follow in his footsteps, to find balance, to live a life that wasn’t dictated by the demands of work. But it was easier said than done, and as the years went on, you found yourself mirroring his habits more than you cared to admit.
You nodded, swallowing hard against the emotion that threatened to choke you. “I kept pushing myself, kept chasing after something I couldn’t even name. My dad… he always told me that hard work was the only thing that mattered, he never slowed down, never stopped, and neither did I. Even when their marriage fell apart… even when he got sick. I just… I couldn’t stop.”
You hesitated, your eyes welling up with tears that you refused to let fall. “I didn’t even cry at his funeral, I just stood there, feeling nothing. And I haven’t been to visit his grave since.”
Peter gently reached out, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, tightly hugging you. “It’s okay not to be okay, Y/N,” he murmured. “You don’t have to carry this all on your own. The least I can do is be the shoulder you can lean on.” Peter squeezed your shoulder gently, his eyes filled with compassion. “Your dad was tough, but he loved you, Y/N. And you don’t have to prove anything to him, not anymore. You’re allowed to grieve, to feel lost, to not have all the answers.”
You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to remember that.”
Hotch sat just behind you, his back facing yours, he had intended to keep to himself, to give you the space you needed, but the quiet murmurs of your conversation had carried over. He couldn’t help but overhear Peter’s words, and as he listened, a wave of guilt and realization washed over him.
Hotch had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to see through the masks they wore, but he hadn’t seen through yours. He hadn’t seen the pain you’d been hiding, the grief that had been eating away at you just beneath a slim surface. And suddenly, your words from the night before came crashing back: how he didn’t know you, how he’d never bothered to look beyond the professional facade you’d built.
His own mind flickered back to his childhood, the memories of his father’s anger, the violence that lurked behind every door. Hotch had spent years burying and hiding those scars, never letting anyone see how deeply they ran. He had kept it all locked away, just as you had, believing that the only way to survive was to keep moving, to never let the pain catch up.
For the first time, Hotch truly understood why you had lashed out at him. You had seen in him the very thing you feared in yourself: the relentless drive to work, to control, to avoid facing the hurt that lingered beneath. He realized now that you were so much more alike than he had ever imagined, both of you haunted by the ghosts of your pasts, both trying to outrun the pain that always seemed to catch up.
As Hotch stared out the window at the passing scenery, he felt a deep sense of remorse. He wished he had known, wished he had been able to offer you the support you so clearly needed. But all he could do now was hope that you would one day trust him enough to let him in, to share the burdens you had been carrying alone for far too long.
Peter’s voice broke the silence, pulling Hotch from his thoughts. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that? But it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you, too.”
You nodded, wiping away the tears that had finally escaped. “Thanks, Pete. It’s just… it’s hard.”
“I know,” Peter said softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone.”
Hotch listened to the quiet exchange, the raw honesty between you and Peter striking a chord deep within him. He knew now that he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that the walls he had built were enough to protect him or you. As the train sped toward Quantico, Hotch made a silent promise to himself: he would do better, he would be better. For you, and for himself.
Because in the end, you both deserved more than just the comfort of solitude. You deserved to be understood, to be seen, and to finally let go of the burdens you had carried for far too long.
Peter on the other hand had always been the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even when you tried to keep the pages closed. And after this emotional confrontation he knew he didn’t have to push further. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you were holding yourself together by the thinnest thread. So, he did what he always did best, he tried to lift your spirits, if only for a moment.
He leaned back in his seat, studying your expression with a knowing smile. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to unload everything on me right now. You’re allowed to keep some things to yourself. You don’t owe anyone your pain.” His tone was light, but there was a deep, unspoken understanding beneath it. He knew you were struggling, and he wanted you to know that it was okay to take your time.
You gave him a small, tired smile, grateful for his patience. “I know, Pete. It’s just... hard to talk about. I’ve been so focused on work, it’s easier that way. It’s all I know.”
Peter nodded, his eyes softening with empathy. “I get it. But maybe it’s time to leave work behind, just for a little while. You don’t have to think about everything right now. Start small. Maybe try coming out of your room every once in a while?” He said it with a teasing grin, nudging your shoulder playfully, hoping to coax even the smallest laugh out of you.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I know, I’ve been a bit of a hermit lately. I guess it’s easier to just shut myself away.”
Peter’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, lucky for you, your presence is strictly required at my welcome-back party tonight. The team’s putting it together, and you have no excuses not to come. I already told them you’d be there.”
You groaned, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Seriously? Peter, I don’t know if I’m up for-”
He cut you off, holding up a hand. “Ah-ah, no excuses. We’ll be back by early afternoon, you’ll have plenty of time to rest, take a shower, and then you’re going to show up and have a good time, even if I have to drag you there myself.”
You rolled your eyes, but his enthusiasm was infectious. There was a warmth in his insistence, a reminder that you weren’t alone and that there was still joy to be found, even in the smallest of moments. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there. But only because you’re the most obnoxiously persistent person I know.”
Peter laughed, giving you a mock bow from his seat. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, Y/N, it’ll be good to see you outside of the office for once. We all miss you, and I promise, you’ll be glad you came.”
You nodded, feeling a small flicker of anticipation amidst the exhaustion. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t work, something that didn’t involve endless reports or painful memories. It wasn’t a solution to all your problems, but it was a start—a chance to reconnect with the people who mattered, to take a breath and remember that there was more to life than the shadows that had been chasing you.
As you looked at Peter, his familiar smile reminding you of all the good things you’d shared over the years, you felt a small surge of hope. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The train ride back to Quantico had felt endless, but the weight of the unresolved emotions made the journey back to your apartment even more suffocating. Peter’s words lingered, tugging at wounds you hadn’t dared to touch, and Hotch’s distant presence weighed heavily on your mind. The familiar solitude of your apartment was supposed to be comforting, but tonight, it felt more like a reminder of all the things you’d been running from: your grief, your past, and the fragile, fraying connection with the person who had come to mean so much to you.
You dropped your bag onto the floor, letting it fall with a thud that echoed through the empty space. You leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface against your palms as you tried to ground yourself. You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was as if you’d locked them away, buried them beneath layers of duty and distraction.
But then there was a knock at your door, soft and tentative, almost like the person on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there. You hesitated, wiping at your eyes quickly as if to compose yourself, and moved to answer. You half-expected to find Peter, still worried about you after the train ride, or maybe even no one at all, just a mistake. But when you opened the door, it was Hotch who stood before you.
He looked different, more vulnerable and uncertain than you had ever seen him. His usually composed demeanor was frayed, and there was a rawness in his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and heavy burdens. He stood there awkwardly, clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing keeping him upright, his face etched with a mixture of hesitation and determination.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a fragile thread, one wrong move away from snapping. Hotch looked down, swallowing hard as if searching for the right words. He wasn’t in his usual pristine suit but rather dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, his attire as out of place as the uncertainty written across his face.
“Hotch?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, tinged with both surprise and concern. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just looked at you, as if he was struggling to find the right words, struggling to let down the walls he had spent a lifetime building. He stepped inside, and you quietly closed the door behind him, your heart pounding as you waited for him to speak. He took a few slow steps into the living room, glancing around as if trying to ground himself in the unfamiliar space.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice strained and brittle, every word heavy with unspoken pain. “I know this isn’t… I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I needed to talk to you. About… about what you said last night, and today on the train. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Peter.”
This wasn’t the composed, confident man you knew at work, this was Aaron, someone you never got to see, someone who was barely holding it together. “ You were right, Y/N. You were right about everything.”
You stood there, frozen, as his words hit you like a wave. You had never heard Hotch sound so vulnerable, so broken. He was always the strong one, the unshakable agent who never let his guard down, but tonight, he was just Aaron, and he was struggling.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep things separate,” he began, his voice trembling. “I thought if I could just focus on the work, I could ignore everything else—everything that hurt, everything that felt out of my control. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s not who I am, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.”
Hotch’s hands shook as he tried to steady himself, his eyes brimming with emotions he had kept buried for so long. “My father... he was abusive. He was cruel in ways that I can’t even put into words. He’d tear me apart with his words, his fists, anything to remind me that I was never good enough. I grew up in a house that felt more like a battlefield than a home, where silence was never safe and every day was just another fight to survive.”
His voice cracked, and you could see the weight of those memories in his eyes: the fear, the shame, the endless need to be perfect because nothing less would ever be enough for a man who thrived on control. “I tried so hard to protect my mom, my brother, but I was just a kid. There were nights when I’d lie awake, praying he’d leave us alone, praying I’d be strong enough to make it stop. But it never did. And I swore that when I grew up, I’d never be like him. I’d never let anyone see that weakness.”
You listened, your own tears finally breaking free as his pain washed over you. You had never imagined Hotch’s past had been so brutal, so deeply scarred by violence and fear. He had always seemed so put together, so composed, but now, you could see just how much he had been hiding, how much he had been carrying all this time.
“I thought if I kept that part of myself locked away, I’d be able to move on. I thought… I thought if I became Hotch, the profiler, that it would erase all the things he said I’d never be. But it’s just made me more closed off, more afraid to let anyone in. And I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.”
He looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you could see the desperation there - the plea for understanding, for forgiveness, for something he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N. I don’t know how to not be this… this guarded version of myself. But if I’m going to try, if I’m going to let anyone see me, I want it to be you. Because you were right when you said I don’t know you, but I want to. And you deserve to know me, too—the real me.”
The vulnerability in his voice shattered something inside you, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you and pulled him into a tight, desperate hug. Hotch tensed at first, unaccustomed to such unguarded intimacy, but then his arms wrapped around you, and you could feel him finally letting go. His head bowed against your shoulder, and his entire frame shook with the silent sobs he’d been holding back for too long.
You clung to him, your own tears mingling with his, and in that moment, it felt like the dam you’d both been holding back had finally broken. You were no longer the stoic agents who always had the answers, always kept it together. You were just two people, scarred and hurting, trying to find solace in the only way you knew how: by holding on to each other.
Hotch’s hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he held you closer, as if you were the lifeline he had been searching for. He whispered apologies between his tears, his voice cracking with the weight of his regrets. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t see it. I didn’t see you.”
You shook your head, burying your face into his neck, your tears soaking through his t-shirt as you let out all the grief you’d kept buried: the loss of your father, the unresolved pain of your parents’ broken marriage, the way you had thrown yourself into work to keep from falling apart. You had been running for so long, hiding behind your accomplishments, just like him.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Aaron,” you whispered through your tears, the use of his first name slipping out naturally in this moment of raw honesty. “I had no idea. I was so angry, and I—”
He shook his head, his voice soft but firm as he whispered back, “You don’t have to apologize. You were right… about all of it. I needed to hear it. I needed to face it.”
The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other’s pain and understanding, the weight of your shared burdens finally feeling just a little bit lighter. There were no perfect words, no easy fixes, but in that embrace, you found something neither of you had expected—comfort, solace, and the beginning of a new kind of trust.
“It’s okay,” you whispered through your tears, clutching him tighter. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
For the first time, it felt like you were truly seen, truly understood, and the relief of it was overwhelming. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to be strong or perfect or put together. You could just be, and he could just be, and that was enough.
Hotch pulled back slightly, your eyes finally met, both of you still teary but no longer hiding. There was a silent understanding there, a promise that from now on, things would be different. “No more walls. No more hiding.” He murmured, his voice shaky but filled with a quiet determination.
You nodded, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you held each other in that quiet, tear-stained moment, you knew that you weren’t alone anymore. You had each other, and that was a start. It was messy, and it was painful, but it was real. And in that, you found hope - hope that maybe, together, you could begin to heal. You weren’t just partners in the professional sense anymore; you were something more—two people learning to let each other in, to lean on each other’s strength when your own wasn’t enough. And in that simple, fragile moment, you both knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone, that your new friend would be right there at your side.
The evening had settled over the city, and the Irish pub next to your apartment block was buzzing with energy. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of lightness, excitement bubbling at the thought of spending time with Hotch, Peter, and the rest of your colleagues from the BAU. After everything that had happened, the weight of unresolved emotions had eased, if only slightly, and you found yourself looking forward to reconnecting with your team outside the pressures of the job.
Earlier that afternoon, you’d stopped by a bookstore, the small shop tucked between a row of cafes and boutique stores you often passed but rarely visited. As you browsed the shelves, your eyes fell on a book titled "Hegel for Dummies." It was a perfect, lighthearted gesture, a small symbol of your newfound friendship with Hotch, and a callback to the night you’d spent poring over Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs at the library. You thought that maybe, after his recent dive into architecture, he might take an interest in philosophy too, especially Hegel, one of your favorites. The book felt like a tiny olive branch, a way of letting him into your world a little more, just as he had let you into his the night before.
You imagined him reading it, piecing together Hegel’s ideas on thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, and maybe learning something about you in the process. And who knew? Maybe one day, if you were lucky, he’d hand you one of his favorite books, offering you another glimpse into the parts of himself he rarely showed.
When you walked into the pub, the warm light and chatter were an immediate comfort. You spotted your team at a long wooden table near the back, and to your surprise, you saw Gideon sitting there, crutches leaned against the wall, his leg injury having kept him out of the latest case. Rossi was beside him, the two of them looking as inseparable as ever, trading stories and laughs over pints of beer. It was a sight that immediately lifted your spirits.
“Look who finally made it!” Rossi called out, waving you over. “Come on, we saved you a seat.”
You grinned, making your way through the crowd. “Rossi, Gideon, you two didn’t tell me you’d be here.”
Gideon leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you didn’t think we’d miss the party, did you? Besides, someone has to make sure Peter doesn’t get too full of himself.”
Peter shot you a wink, raising his glass in greeting. “They’re just here to bask in my glory, Y/N. But don’t let them fool you, they’ve been talking about you all night.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you took a seat between Gideon and Peter. “I’m sure they have. So, what did I miss?”
Before anyone could answer, Hotch walked in, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he spotted you. You exchanged a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the night before, and of the steps you were both taking toward something new, something vulnerable.
“Hotch!” Rossi greeted, patting the empty seat beside him. “Come sit, we’re debating where Peter’s new desk should be. Since Y/N’s parked herself at his old one, we might need to reshuffle the whole bullpen.”
Hotch took his seat, glancing at you with a teasing smile. “I think she’s gotten too comfortable. I doubt she’s giving it up.”
Peter leaned in closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial whispering into your ear “Wanna make a bet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “See that woman behind Hotch’s shoulder? If she doesn’t come talk to him, you get to keep your desk.”
You eyed the woman briefly, noticing her casual yet elegant demeanor, but she seemed engrossed in her own conversation. Hotch was engaged in a discussion with Rossi, showing no sign of noticing her. You were confident this would be an easy win, especially given Hotch’s typically reserved nature. “Alright,” you said, turning back to Peter. “And what do you get if you win?”
Peter’s grin widened, the playful edge in his voice unmistakable. “A date. With you.”
The unexpected proposition caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but his expression remained light, teasing. You brushed it off with a laugh, pretending he was just messing with you. “Okay, you’re on.”
But no sooner had you accepted the bet than the woman, as if she had somehow overheard your conversation, moved toward Hotch with an expression of surprise. You watched in stunned silence as she approached, her voice soft and familiar. “Aaron? What were the odds?”
Your heart sank as Hotch’s face lit up, a rare and genuine smile crossing his features, his cheeks flushed slightly, and there was a familiarity between them that made your chest tighten. You felt Peter nudge you, his voice breaking through the shock. “Looks like you owe me a date.”
You barely registered his words, too fixated on the interaction unfolding in front of you. Hotch returned to the table with the woman by his side, her presence seeming to fill the room in a way that made you feel suddenly small and out of place. Hotch’s voice cut through the noise, introducing her with a casualness that belied the weight of the moment. “Everyone, this is Haley.”
You barely managed to hold your composure, the pieces of this unexpected puzzle falling into place as you processed Hotch’s flushed expression and the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. This wasn’t just anyone, this was someone from his past, someone who clearly was very close and definitely had shared some sort of romantic history with him. The bitter thoughts stung more than you wanted to admit.
Before you could say anything, Gideon, ever the observant one, leaned over, catching sight of the corner of a book sticking out of your open purse. “Hegel for Dummies?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement flickering in his voice as he picked it up to inspect.
You nodded, still too stunned to fully engage, your mind elsewhere. “Yeah. It’s… it’s just a little joke,” you managed, though the words felt hollow in the moment.
Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”
The words hung heavy in the air, and as you sat there, watching Hotch interact with Haley, you couldn’t help but feel the truth in them. Life was messy, a constant push and pull of opposing forces, and you were caught in the middle of it, trying to make sense of what it all meant.
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Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 13
Summary:
Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?
Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.
A/N: Daisy and Jake get ready to leave for their Thanksgiving trip but things don't go as planned.
AO3 Link
Previous Chapter
October had been a blur of soccer games, conference calls with my agent and publisher planning a book tour for the new year, and lots of time spent apologizing to Harvey. He was mad at me still but he understood why I had kept him in the dark, at least enough to invite me to spend Christmas with him.
Jake had been swinging between calm and absolutely wired when it came to making the Thanksgiving trip to Texas for Thanksgiving. One moment he was telling me how excited he was and how much his family was going to love me, the next he was wringing his hands, silently staring into the distance. He was doing the same thing now, standing in the line for TSA.
“Baby,” I tugged him forward in line by his hand, “What’s bothering you?” He shrugged, pulling off his boots. “Don’t give me that.”
“Just thinking, Wildflower.” I rolled my eyes, double checking that my pockets were empty before pushing my bin forward. “I just want this to go well and I’m nervous.” 
“It’s going to be fine, pretty boy. Don’t forget to take off your hat,” I flicked the rim of the cowboy hat he rarely wore. “But I know that’s not all, you’re being way too frowny for that to be it.” He sighed but didn’t respond, staying silent as we processed through the body scanner and pulled our shoes back on. Jake’s silence was tugging at my heart strings, a million possibilities more ludicrous than the last running through my mind. The thoughts slowed when he wrapped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his side, but didn’t fade completely.
“My mama’s going to pick us up from the airport and then we’re going to get lunch with my sisters.” I hummed, knowing the plan already. We had gone over it twice in the car alone. “Are you upset with me?” 
“I’m not upset with you, I’m worried because you’re being weird and not telling me why.” Jake kissed the top of my head, guiding us off to the side of the main walkway. Jake’s eyes were soft but his jaw was tight, relaxing and tensing repeatedly as he stared me down. I waited patiently, fiddling with the button on my suitcase’s handle.
“I’ve never brought someone home before,” He confessed and it all made sense. I cupped his face, swiping my thumb over the stubble that had appeared in the last two days.
“Happy to be your first, Hangman,” Jake pulled me closer by the waist, a goofy grin on his face.
“That’s the same thing you said to me the night we met.” Back when I thought Jake was just some cocky pilot flirting with me for fun. I had never been happier to be wrong in my life. “I thought you were the prettiest girl in the bar.” 
“I didn’t even want to go that night,” Jake chuckled at my confession. “And I about died of embarrassment when you introduced yourself by kissing my head.” He leaned down, giving me a sweet kiss that made my heart flutter.
“‘I’m glad you came that night,” 
“‘Me too.” 
Jake and I made our way to the gate, stopping at the overpriced market for a share-size bag of M&Ms that I didn’t plan on sharing and caffeine for Jake, who despite having to be up early every day for work, was decidedly not a morning person.
“I love you,” Jake nuzzled his face into my neck, kissing it softly. My cheeks burned red, catching the scandalized glance of an older couple across from us. “And I can’t wait for you to meet my family.” 
“People are looking at us, pretty boy,” I tried to push him away gently but he wrapped an arm around me, keeping me as close as possible despite the arm rest between us. He breathed in deeply, keeping his face concealed in my hair as people shot us poorly concealed looks.
“Don’t care, Wildflower. Unless it makes you uncomfortable?” 
“A little,” Jake gave my neck one last kiss before pulling back. “But I love you too.” His phone rang and when he looked at the caller ID, his face fell.
“Lt. Seresin,” I couldn’t hear the conversation over the noise of the airport but the look on Jake’s face was enough to make my stomach twist with anxiety. “Rear Admiral, I understand the situation but I’m on approved leave for-” He ground his teeth, obviously being cut off by someone. “Yes, sir,” He hung up. Jake buried his face in his hands, grunting in frustration. I rubbed circles onto his back,
“What’s wrong, Jake?” 
“The team’s being called in for an emergency, I have to go.” My heart dropped, hearing how broken his voice was. “Fuck, I hate this.” 
“It’s okay, baby,” I kissed his hair, still rubbing his back. “Let’s get out of here, I’ll figure out the bags later.” I stood, shouldering my bag, “Come on, Jake. We’ll call your mama in the car and arrange something for when you get back.” 
“No,” He said firmly, standing. I raised a brow, confused. Jake lifted my bag from my shoulder, depositing in the chair he had just been sitting in.
“Jake?” He shook his head, running a hand down his face. “What are you doing?” 
“I want you to meet my family and they’re so excited to meet you, I don’t want my job to ruin this.” He wanted me to meet his family without him? Was he insane? “Take a deep breath, baby. You look like you’re going to pass out.” I inhaled deeply, trying to school my face into one that looked slightly less terrified. 
“I’m not meeting your family without you.”
“Please, Daisy?” He pulled me in for a sweet kiss, “Do it for me?” I groaned, resting my head on his chest. Jake hugged me tight, swaying us from side to side. This was a big deal for both of us. I had never met someone’s parents and he had never brought a girl home before, it was something new to both of us. Something big and scary but something that had to be done, especially if I was going to marry him some day. 
I smiled, thinking about Jake in his dress whites, the rest of the Daggers standing in uniform beside him, except for Natasha who was by my side like always. I didn’t have many people who could stand on my side of the aisle but that didn’t ruin the image.
“I’ll do it.” 
X
When Jacob had sent me a text to explain the change of plans, I nearly dropped my phone in surprise. That was not the plan. It was not the plan at all. We were all over the moon to finally meet Daisy but there was so much more we needed to discuss, all of which had to be done in person and Jake getting pulled away on a last minute mission complicated things. 
“What are we going to do?” My husband, Franklin, asked. “We’ve got to tell him.” I shook my head, wringing my hands.
“We do but right now we’re in the same pickle we’ve been in for the last six months. We’ll tell him when he gets back, whether it’s over the phone or in person.” Franklin kissed my forehead, passing the truck keys to me.
“Go pick up our future daughter-in-law, Honey Bunny,” Franklin was having a good day, standing tall, his hands steady for the most part. It pained me to see him so thin, his flannel hanging off of him in a way it hadn’t in years. “We’ll figure out how to handle this later.” 
“We’re meeting the girls for lunch but I left some soup for you in the fridge if you get hungry,” Franklin hummed in acknowledgement but I had a feeling the soup would still be there when I got home. “I love you,” 
“I love you too.” 
The airport was busy as always but I managed to find a parking spot in front of arrivals. I hopped out of the truck, grabbing the bouquet of daisies Caroline had insisted on picking up from the store the night before. I glanced at the last photo of Daisy that Jacob had sent to the family group chat. She was a pretty, little thing with red hair that always seemed to be tied up in a messy knot, holding up a casserole with a bright smile, Jacob's friends gathered around her. It was easy to see how much everyone loved her and how much she enjoyed being surrounded by them. It was comforting, knowing that my baby boy had found someone who brought so much light to his life. 
The red hair was easy to spot amongst the crowd, I waved her down.
“Daisy, honey! Over here,” The young woman’s head perked up. She smiled nervously when she saw me, making her way through the droves of people. “Oh my goodness, what a cutie pie you are!” I gushed, bringing her into a tight hug. She patted my back softly, not quite relaxing into the embrace. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. Jacob’s told us all about you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.” I pulled back, a big smile on my face. 
“You can just call me mama, sweetheart.” There was a flash of sadness over her features and it hit me that Jacob had mentioned that Daisy’s parents were both dead. I quickly changed the subject, “It’s a shame Jacob couldn’t make it but this means we don’t have to sneak away to the kitchen for me to show you his baby pictures.” 
“Oh I can’t wait,” Daisy giggled, “Jake was also worried about you telling me embarrassing childhood stories.” She finally seemed relaxed, taking the bouquet with a small thank you.
“I’ve got plenty of those to share, I’ll even send you home with the recording of his 3rd grade talent show.” 
“Please, please, please tell me it was a magic act,” Daisy laughed, helping me load her bags into the truck bed.
“Even better, he sang Should've Been A Cowboy.”
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thefinalwitness · 19 hours
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in general if your response to a certain type of character, especially any form of minority, is literally any variation whatsoever of "that doesn't exist/wouldn't be allowed in this setting" you're being a bigoted piece of shit. just to be super clear. and because my adderall is in full effect rn i will even do you the favor of going over some reasons why your reasoning is not only flawed and inaccurate to begin with, but extremely harmful to entire groups of people you claim to care about.
"that doesn't exist" first of all, who fucking cares if a piece of media has never depicted a lesbian or a nonbinary person or a black person in xyz region/world? just because the creators didn't do it doesn't make it Canonical Law. also, regardless of how fantastical and fictional a setting is, its audience will ALWAYS be from planet earth where lesbians and nonbinary people and black people exist, and those people's feelings and their deservingness to see and put themselves in their favorite stories IS, in fact, more important than some white-ass cishet make believe world.
"it wouldn't be allowed" subtler issue, but an issue nonetheless. just because the setting is hostile TO certain groups of people does not mean those people do not exist there. ask yourself, what is so important to you about certain kinds of people either not existing period, or having to be miserable (closet themselves, conceal certain features, etc), in a given setting. why is that so important to you. why do you think these people can only exist if they hate themselves and/or live their lives suffocated by the world around them. why is it so "lore incompliant" or "immersion breaking" to you. why are you so concerned with upholding real or perceived prejudices in a fictional society if you claim to care about the real people who these prejudices affect. "realism"? see point one.
NONE of the reasons you make up to justify your reinforcement of real world bigotry in a pretend world are even reasons that would ACTUALLY bar xyz group of people from existing in said world. ishgard only shut its gates to the rest of the world for 15 years before ARR. old sharlayan accepted people from tural into its closed society. the ancients could literally conjure up whatever the fuck they wanted inside and outside their bodies. fantasias are a canonical item in the game, as per the quest that literally talks about them and then gives you one. there are HUNDREDS of perfectly lore compliant ways any given type of person could be in any given setting. but more importantly, people shouldn't need to justify why things like sexuality or skin color CAN exist in a given setting, because if you're not harboring some very bigoted ideas about how minorities are allowed to or "supposed" to exist, you don't fucking care about shit like this. it's stupid, inaccurate, and most of all, just plain cruel to the very real people behind these characters.
racism, transphobia, etc already exist in staggering abundance in the real world; you do not need to enforce that cruelty in a random fucking video game unless you have some very fucked up feelings about those groups of people festering in your brain. if you're not a member of those groups, shame on you, do better to support your fellow human beings. if you ARE a member of those groups, i am so fucking sorry the world has rotted your sense of self so deeply as to make you believe you can only exist in misery. i really, sincerely hope you're able to work through that and know that your existence is an inherently joyful, beautiful thing, and people like you deserve to get to exist peacefully, everywhere in the real world and in any and all fictional settings. i know finding worth in ourselves is too often an extremely difficult process, so i ask instead that you start with others like you. be kind to them, support them, find things about them that you admire, and try to see yourself in them. you deserve to get to heal from the insidious, evil things this world has poisoned your heart with.
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skyrim-forever · 3 days
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Through playing through the Civil War questline and in general thinking about the Great War, I find the perspectives in Skyrim very interesting
We obviously interact with many Great War veterans throughout the game (Ulfric, Galmar, Rikke, although others such as Noster Eagle-Eye who are less important to the story). Notably these are all Nords from Skyrim (duh Eve, the game is literally called Skyrim), but I think that's telling when examining the perspective characters like Galmar in particular have.
The idea that the Empire bent the knee to the Dominion doesn't make sense when you look at the fact that the Empire was on its last leg by the end of the war, many parts of Cyrodiil had particularly hit hard by the Thalmor invasions (Anvil, Bravil, the Imperial City). But this point makes more sense knowing that the Dominion never set foot in Skyrim during the war, Nord soldiers were incredibly important to helping the Empire retake the Imperial City. But the Nords never saw their homeland destroyed, there's a good chance many of them do not know how close total defeat was for the Empire.
Although I imagine there are citizens of Cyrodiil upset about the White-Gold Concordat, they are the ones who watched their civilians and cities be destroyed. The Nords can have this opinion because they weren't in the thick of it the same way. I think it would have been cool to see more characters from Cyrodiil who would have lived through the war and hear their thoughts on the civil war.
Just some ramblings, I've been thinking a lot about the Great War lately
also I am in the camp that the White-Gold Concordat is based on a bluff. Between the oblivion crisis, eugenics, and harder time reproducing, no way the Dominion have enough people
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