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multistansimp4life · 15 days ago

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was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

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multistansimp4life · 3 months ago

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7 💢 DELTE - ouch my head smau

synopsis : when y/n almost gets hit by a random hot basketball player who happens to have a huge crush on her

pairing : loser desperate jake x hot 'meanie' reader aka black cat gf x golden retriever bf

warning : they are all in college so will have college humor w sex jokes n kms/kys jokes

prev - next

princess love letter : if you have any idea how much the second outfit n video he posted on twitter's power have on me >0<

ouch my head tag list ( open ) : ask or comment to be added >< @onerooza @wonsdoll @lialaiakalaiiaia @nctsshoes2 @heeseung64 @iselltulips @miszes @jakeswsh @thing89 @dreamiestay @cherrikii @rikisluv @50-husbands @miuhaee @wonwonluvie @zyvlxqht @letwiiparkjay @miniature-tragedy @tie-nn @thenastone @isa942572 @grassbutneo @luvyouloser @st1llm0nster @luvvhaerin @ren2jay @turip222 @iheartjayke @zaihypen @t1iqaa @daniellesyellowhands @cralessia @pharaways @clampclover @02zluvbot @jakieeeeee @sumzysworld @vmpivory @chxrlz-mxr @hizhu @slp23 @catecita @heelovesmeknot @danielleism @dissoc1ating @belovedsthings @sweetiejaeyun @al3xa-amz @getoxo

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multistansimp4life · 4 months ago

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UNLUCKY GIRL SYNDROME ✦ PSH & SJY | TEASER !

inspired by operation true love

pairing ➻ sunghoon x f! reader x jake

synopsis ➻ if it was possible to see the number of people who would fall in love with you over your lifetime, most people would agree to it in a heartbeat, but some might not. you don't get that choice, labelled by a mysterious system as someone destined to receive no love and threatened to fix this 'error' before it's too late. but who will be your saviour, the social pariah sunghoon, or the school's golden boy sim jaeyun?

genres & tropes ➻ slow burn, love triangle, mystery

content warning ➻ profanity & some more serious themes like neglect and burnout + please be aware that this doesn't contain polyamory so there will be only one of them that you end up with

word count ➻ current 6.2 k, anticipated 15 - 20 k

note ➻ i was very excited to create this and share it with you all, so i sincerely hope you enjoy! it will be my first (enhablr) long fic, to celebrate 100 followers [i hope i finish this before i reach 200]

release date ➻ august!

INTRODUCING THE LOVE INTERESTS !

WELL . . . WHAT DO THEY THINK OF YOU ?

interviewer: what do you think of y/n, sunghoon?

sunghoon: she pisses me off.

interviewer: can you elaborate?

sunghoon: no.

interviewer: what about you, jake?

jake: y/n? y/n... hmmm the name's not familiar. are you sure she goes to decelis?

OH ! THEN, PERHAPS A SCENE FROM THE STORY WILL DO ?

finally. after a long hard day of, well, avoiding pushy fangirls and brown-nosers, jake has glimpsed some freedom.

he finds himself enjoying the breeze on a local park bench instead. it’s close enough to decelis that he still flinches every time he hears a high-pitched noise, but finding peace is not impossible.

especially when the park is full of families having fun and apparent couples lazing on the grass. it’s not often he gets to experience an atmosphere like this. not often that he’s allowed to pause and allow himself to feel the moment long enough to experience anything at all, actually.

it feels as if most of his time is spent in making connections, modelling, events and the time he does get to spend at school is used up dodging people who want to talk about said activities.

it’s downright exhausting, and it’s to the point jake considers dropping modelling several times a week. the issue, of course, is that he loves it. to him, it’s a form of art, especially when he can see all of the incredible content created from him. it’s like a part of him is permanently out there for people to know and experience and that’s just amazing to him.

so yeah. an impasse. but enough rumination, right now was his time to truly feel peace and enjoy the ambiance the fresh air and trees provided.

that is, until someone goes crashing to the ground in front of him, and yeah jake did think that a block of pavement jutting at an angle from the previous would be an issue, but seeing the stray train of thought come to fruition was unfortunate.

what just happened settles in, and jake scrambles off of the bench, mourning his peace only a little bit after taking in the familiar decelis girls’ uniform.

“oh my god, are you okay?” his hands hover unsure, twitching in the air uselessly in response to the girl’s groan filling the surroundings.

when you turn towards the boy to reassure him that ‘yeah, i just got my shit rocked in front of you, but i’m fine!' you instead end up gasping when you notice who it is, “it’s you! coffee boy!”

jake is a little astonished, since when was he coffee boy? “hey! i have a name.”

you furrow your brow a bit, and he can’t tell if you’re trying to remember said name or that’s pain on your face.

“jake! right?”

he ignores the odd, new feeling of someone having to confirm his name instead of intuitively knowing it before he even says a word and nods, “and you’re y/n.”

he’s not sure if he would have remembered your name were it not for the way your last encounter with him went.

you nod enthusiastically, before frowning at the sting you feel on your knees. it seemed they were slightly skinned. you frown, contemplating what you should do, still on the floor.

jake clears his throat, “you, uh, should probably do something about that.”

you raise an unimpressed brow, as if to say, ‘what, pray tell, should i do here in the middle of the park?’

but, not one to be discouraged, you reach into your bag, frowning and dumping one of the pockets contents onto the ground in search of what you need. you cheer slightly in triumph, wrapping the handkerchief around your skinned knee for now.

good enough until you get home.

you hear jake chuckle and fix your gaze back on him, confused as to what’s funny in the situation right now.

he smiles, pointing at an item from your backpack, “you’re still carrying a flip-phone around in this day and age?”

the blood evaporates out of your body. you don’t want it to be true, but as you follow his finger with bated breath, your heart stutters as your gaze lands on it.

it, being a bright. pink. flip-phone.

unbeknownst to you, jake frowns in confusion as he notices the drastic change in your demeanour. he remains dumbfounded as you flounder, shoving everything back in your backpack whilst completely ignoring the object.

he doesn’t even have the time to question you before you bolt away, leaving him and the flip phone.

jake’s unable to hold his curiosity back and he picks up the phone. he almost drops it at the message sitting on the home screen that greets him.

hey, you’re not supposed to look at this! (¬_¬)

just what the hell was this? jake shrugs off the unnerving feeling and pockets the cell, deciding he’d give it to you eventually when you spoke again. although with the way you ran off, you didn’t seem too keen about it.

the model is utterly confused, but. oh well. he supposed being strange was one of your character traits.

permanent taglist: @ashtxrie @luvlyhee @won4kiss @txnwvc

specific tags: @boyfhee @sungbyhoon @fleurre @viagumi @strxwbloody @dreamiestay @doublebunv @hoodiebangtan @lol6sposts @neos127 @capri-cuntz @junislqve

everyone tagged above will be tagged again for the actual post, if you would also like to be tagged then comment below or send an ask 🫶

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multistansimp4life · 2 years ago

Text

Now Live: Stream 4

Genre: smut, camboy au, college au, crack

Pairing: camboy! Beomgyu x gn reader (afab when smut)

Warnings: camboy, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, solo beomgyu, vibrating cock ring, voyeurism

Synopsis: Every Thursday night at 8pm, you tune into your favourite camboy: Angel313. What you don’t know is he even goes to the same uni as you, is in the same class as you and is Choi Beomgyu, the campus fuckboy but will you keep his secret?

Word count: 2.9k

“Wait so you used to watch my streams all the time?” Beomgyu looks at you all cocky as you both walked to the uni’s concert hall, music sheets in both your hands of the arrangements you had finally finished to show the ensemble to play. “That’s so adorable. I appreciate my fans so much, I really do.” He presses his hand to his heart dramatically.

“Shut up.” You elbow his side, causing the music sheets in his hand to fall on the ground in the chilly and windy breeze.

“Owww. Hey! You should help me pick those up!”

You don’t, carrying on strolling as he speedily grabbed the sheets, racing to walk beside you again.

“What was your username, come on tell me. Don’t be embarrassed.” He looks at you with a shit eating grin.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come onn! I think I deserve to know!”

“No.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Whyy not?!”

You give it some thought whether you should tell him or not but he probably would never let it go if you didn’t. Sighing, you decide to just let it out. “I was…user seggsysax…”

Beomgyu bursts into a fit of laughter in disbelief, “You were seggsysax?!” He can’t stop laughing and you just stand, staring at him with a deadpan gaze. “I always see your username in every single one of my lives! Even from the very start! Wow. Thank you for being such a loyal fan.” He laughs even more, “I thought your username was weird though.”

You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed. “I play saxophone! And…it’s sexy? I don’t know I just came up with anything! Will you stop laughing?!” But beomgyu looks like he’s about to hurtle to the ground any second.

You make it to the concert hall, waiting for the other musicians to start coming in. Strings, woodwind, brass, and percussionists to sit in their assigned positions, you and beomgyu handing out the scores on the music stands.

“Hello! I’m Beomgyu and this is Y/n. We’re the two organisers of the music department’s Christmas performance this year.” Beomgyu introduces you both cheerily once everyone settles in and begins to explain what will be happening.

And then you all start practicing and learning the pieces, you and beomgyu taking it in turns to conduct and play and telling them how certain sections should sound like. It was already beginning to come together and was already sounding great.

You were actually pretty excited about it, people coming up to praise you both on how you’ve arranged it after it had finished and you and beomgyu giving each other a fist bump once they all left.

“So, you’re gonna be my manager or whatever then? What are you even gonna do?” Beomgyu asks, both of you at his place, sitting on his comfy bed after practice to discuss your earlier proposition.

“Well, since I’ve watched a lot of camboys and have been part of your audience, I could give you input and ideas on what other watchers would want and like so we can make more money. I could also help you film everything since it must be hard trying to film it yourself and I’ll monitor what people comment and what gets you more tips.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Alright then. Interview’s over. Sure, you’re my manager now I guess. Why do you want to though anyway?”

“Because I am broke as hell and couldn’t find any part time jobs and this doesn’t seem that bad. Why did you start being a camboy?”

“I’m also broke and need to pay off my college tuition.” Beomgyu shrugs his shoulders, “I stumbled across a camboy once and thought hey! I can make money at home just jerking off so…”

You nod, “Yeah, you’re good at it.”

He smiles at your praise, eyes scrunching into little crescent moons and cheeks blushing, “Thanks!” Clearly, he likes compliments. It’s kinda really cute. You clear your head at the last comment-Off topic, off topic.

“So…why don’t we try out and film something now?” You suggest nonchalantly.

“What? Like, right now?” Beomgyu’s eyes pop out his sockets.

“Yeah if you want to”

“O-okay. Y-yeah, yeah...”

He gives you your phone so you can set everything up, putting it on the tripod and angling the cameras to one of his bare walls, ready to stream. “What should I do?” Beomgyu asks shyly.

“I don’t know. Do you have somewhere where you keep all your toys and stuff?”

So he goes to his wardrobe, getting a pink box at the back and opening it for you to look at a variety of little vibes, dildos, plugs and many other things. Your eyes catch a vibrating cock ring you’ve never seen before.

“Oh I haven’t seen you use that before.” You point at it.

“Yeah I got it recently.”

“Do you wanna use it today? I bet the viewers would go crazy. It’s pretty.”

“Y-yeah okay then.” Beomgyu’s voice suddenly sounding mouse-like.

Beomgyu starts changing out of his clothes to put on his usual thigh highs and putting the cock ring on with slightly shaking hands. He doesn’t know whether he should tell you to look away since you’ll literally be watching him anyway and it’s not like you’ve never seen him naked, given you’ve watched multiple of his streams.

But you turn your head anyway, taking your phone out and going on it, acting as if you were extremely busy replying to life changing messages. You just had twitter up and kept refreshing it.

Once he was done you look up, not daring to look anywhere but his face. He passes the controller to the vibrator to you, averting your gaze as well.

“You want me to do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. Should I start the stream now?”

He nods and positions himself where you set the tripod and then you press the live button. Loads of users washing in and beomgyu says his usual greetings and welcomes to them.

After that he looks at you as if to indicate for you to start the controller and so you do, putting it on a low setting. Beomgyu also starts to fuck himself along with it, pumping his dick with his hands, slowly.

Beomgyu is beyond embarrassed right now. Whilst he’s fucked himself for thousands of people to watch, it’s incredibly different to this right now. A real person, right in front of him. Someone he knows. It made him so nervous, especially with your firm gaze on him, you not saying or visibly reacting to anything he’s doing making him even more squirmy. Somehow though, he thinks it’s making him even more turned on with you right there watching him. What was this weird feeling? What were you thinking of him right now?

You press one of the buttons to the controller even higher. Beomgyu looking at you with wide eyes as he carried on stroking his cock with the added vibrations, not even looking anywhere else but your face at this point, completely forgetting there was another audience watching him right now besides you, but he doesn’t bother checking the comments this time as he moans, feeling the pleasure overtaking him. He can’t believe he’s acting like this in front of you. Literally moaning with you right there. Because of you.

You know you shouldn’t feel like this at all. Like, absolutely at all. It was so, so wrong for you to feel like this but watching beomgyu like this, falling apart in front of you, stroking his dick shyly, you controlling his pleasure made you so unbelievably aroused. You could moan yourself to be honest.

You’d think that knowing Angel was actually beomgyu would make you stop feeling attracted to Angel at all, but you’re starting to think it’s only increased it. You watched every one of his streams, your favourite camboy and you’d fuck yourself as well while watching him, thinking he was perfect. And now, he was a mere few feet away from you. In real life. Fucking himself whilst you got to watch. In person. What you used to watch on your laptop screen doesn’t even compare to the real thing. His moans, reactions, body even prettier in real life.

The amount of willpower it took to not go and just fuck him right there. But that would be so wrong. It’s beomgyu. Not Angel. Well, actually you’re a bit confused now. But either way, it would be so wrong. Especially since you’re just his manager now. You’re professionally working with him. You can’t do that.

You turn the button up to the highest beomgyu looking at you fearfully and throwing his head back, whining. He slows his movements down on his dick for a second but you give him a glare as if to say ‘don’t you dare’ so he doesn’t, whimpering as he continued to stroke his dick for you.

You look at the comments to see viewers confused on whose controlling the cock ring since that’s never happened before, but they find it hot, him not not knowing what’s gonna happen.

He squishes his legs together, pumping his dick faster, eyes facing the ceiling and moans increasing and you know he’s just about to cum, seeing the scene loads of times before to know when he’s just on the verge. You press the button multiple times to go to one of the more lower settings, beomgyu snapping his head to you, distraught from not getting his high yet.

Then you go again, pressing it to the highest immediately, making beomgyu’s body jerk from the shock. He stills his hand for a second but knows better than to stop, so he just keeps jerking himself off until he’s about to cum again which doesn’t take long at all. And then you make it go to a low vibration again, beomgyu whining out loud at you. Then you start it all over again.

His hands go up to hide his face, embarrassed from the sounds he’s making in front of you and the reactions he’s making. “Y-y/n…!” Beomgyu whimpers out your name accidentally, from you still not letting him cum.

His comments go absolutely crazy. Everyone wondering who the new person behind the camera was on Angel’s channel.

@iheartsubby324: Whose y/n?!!?!?! Does he finally have a fuck buddy for himself after all this time? We’ve been telling him.

@angelsno1fan: Fuck that’s not fair. I wish I could be doing that to him right now. 😩

Many other users in all caps shouting from the screens, going mad that for the first time, Angel has someone else there. Of course you’re literally just his manager/kinda camera person helper but they don’t know that. You know if you were watching that right now you’d also be going crazy.

You let the cock ring stay on the high setting this time and beomgyu’s movements go faster on his cock, his thighs shaking together as he closes them shut again, cock twitching in the vibrating ring and he cums everywhere with a strangled pretty moan, more cum coming out of him due to the cock ring.

He can’t believe he just came in front of you. He’s never done anything like that in real life before in front of someone ever. He’s embarrassed to say he kinda liked it. But also embarrassed he just did that.

Fuck, that’s literally hottest thing ever and you got to see it in person. It was also painful to just sit there and watch. You continue to just stare it at him with your mouth slightly parted, he looked so gorgeous like that, panting, eyelids fluttering, cum covering him—you need to stop. That’s beomgyu!

You check to see how much money he just made. It was more than usual you don’t why. It wasn’t really anything different.

You wait for beomgyu on his bed as he takes a shower, feeling incredibly awkward and tense, swinging your legs off the bed. Then beomgyu walks out the bathroom, making you jump. His hair wet and masking his eyes, he dries his long hair with a towel not looking anywhere near you, you could also see how awkward he felt. Most people looked like ugly drenched rats when they came out the shower but he looked kinda…attractive-off topic! Off topic again! Beomgyu picks up his phone when a notification buzzes.

“My friend’s having a party right now. Wanna go?” Beomgyu asks, trying to ease the tension away. Just act like it never happened for now.

“Of course you have a party to go to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, are you coming or not?”

“Fine. I don’t really have anything better to do.”

You walk into Choi Yeonjun’s house, one of beomgyu’s other playboy friends, music—if you’d even call that music—blaring, making your ears slightly hurt and shit-faced people frolicking about, some play beer pong and other stereotypical house party games. Ah, how serene.

Beomgyu approaches Kang Taehyun and you follow as he excitedly jumped on his shoulders, scaring the dude.

“Taehyunnn!” Beomgyu shouts.

“You scared the shit out of me. What the hell gyu.”

You stare at them perplexed, “You guys know each other…?” Kang taehyun was one of the top students at your university and was extremely intelligent. And beomgyu was well…You can’t imagine they would both be friends at all.

“Of course we are! We’re best friends!”

“That’s stretching it a bit.” Taehyun jokes.

“Hey! You can’t say that to your husband!”

“We’re not husbands…I would never marry you.”

Beomgyu gasps. “So you want a divorce?!”

“Yeah because he’d marry me instead!” Huening kai walks over, drink in hand , another music student you recognised but he took it as a minor.

“You’re cheating on me?!?!” Beomgyu gasps even louder, making huening Kai laugh.

“You’re scaring away all the hoes beomgyu…” Taehyun sighs.

“What hoes? You get zero bitches. Me on the other hand…” Beomgyu flicks his hair at taehyun which only causes Kai to laugh even louder. A very unique laugh, you note. “Anyway this is Y/n! We’re working together on that music performance.”

“Oh hello! Nice to meet you.” They both say in unison.

“Nice to meet you too!”

The rest of the party is pretty uneventful to you. You hang out with taehyun and kai in the kitchen, talking and laughing with them. They were very entertaining to be around and friendly, happy you made some new friends. Beomgyu disappeared at some point and you see him again, clearly very drunk and making out with some girl. All three of you rolling your eyes at him.

“How much do you bet he won’t actually end up fucking them again.” Taehyun turns to Huening Kai.

“Hmmm. $30.”

“You guys know Beomgyu’s a virgin!?” You say the last part quietly.

“Yeah. I have no idea where those rumours came from in the first place.” Taehyun answers.

“Why does he act like that then though?” You ask.

“Beats me.” Huening Kai shrugs.

Once all three of you have had enough at staying at the party, you scavenge for beomgyu, finding him in the garden, passed out in a weird beetle position. And you all take him back to taehyun’s car with much effort.

Huening Kai gets dropped off first since his accommodations are a lot closer and taehyun parks his car since your block was just next to taehyun’s and beomgyu’s. You help taehyun carry beomgyu inside though.

“Hey, my dorm is just right here and I’ve got an exam early in the morning. Do you mind taking beomgyu up to his dorm yourself?” Taehyun asks, since his was at the very first floor and beomgyu’s was at the very top.

“Yeah sure. See you later taehyun. Good luck on your exam!”

“Thank you so much y/n! I’ll see you around!”

You know why taehyun chose not to come, it took absolutely forever to try and drag beomgyu up all the stairs to his dorm, elevator conveniently out of order.

You had to stop multiple times to catch your breath going up those stairs and dragging a mostly unconscious beomgyu with you but you finally make it after what feels like an eternity. Taehyun so owes you for that. And beomgyu. You genuinely feel like you’re gonna collapse but you open beomgyu’s place with his keys.

You tuck beomgyu into his bed. It was quite amusing seeing beomgyu passed out, covers tucked tightly up to his face and his mouth parted, a little unflatteringly.

He tugs on your sleeve before you can leave though, seemingly awake again. “I pussied out on fucking someone again. Is it…is it weird…Am I weird for being a-a virgin…? Beomgyu looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes ever, slurring his words from still being drunk.

“Hey…no of course not! You don’t need to have sex. It doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t be that important. You’re not weird for being a virgin! It’s…it’s normal.”

“But everyone thinks I’ve fucked everyone. And I haven’t fucked anyone. Isn’t that really embarrassing?”

“No it’s just stupid you have rumours like that about you. You shouldn’t care.”

And then he’s passed out again, probably not hearing a word you said, your hand in his to his chest from when he stopped you leaving. You clear your throat, letting go of him and exiting his place.

Please actually reblog !! and comment !!!! if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 🤨👎Feedback is always appreciated it makes me happy :)

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