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#actually it might for real be time for me to do that again
moviestarmartini · 1 day
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yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader
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él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.
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summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?
wc: 975
warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.
A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.
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now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta
The fight was stupid, really. 
You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 
After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 
Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 
If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 
You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 
For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 
You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 
To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 
“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 
That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 
Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.
And you wondered if you would ever be again. 
The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 
Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 
[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 
[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 
You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 
“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 
He hadn’t even read it. 
Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 
You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 
Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 
Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 
“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 
“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 
“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 
“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 
“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 
“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 
“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 
Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.
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A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip
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Note
Hi there! I just wanted to let you know that I love your games! Mushroom Oasis especially has an especially place in my heart. Mychael is such an interesting character and one of my favorite types of yanderes—not violent towards his object of affection but still manipulative and willing to cross lines even if he feels guilty about it. Thank you so much for the work you have done; it’s obvious this game is a labor of love and I am looking forward to see how the story progresses.
In the meantime, I have to ask, do you think there might be a future option where the player can cook for Mychael? Totally okay if that is a little too specific. Cooking is just a love of mine and I love to cook for people I love and I feel that is something that Mychael would appreciate.
Also—and forgive me if you have answered this already—but I was curious to see where Mychael’s affection lands on the scale you created by the end of day 3. Or would there be more than one answer since it seems actions taken on this day might start to split between the platonic and romantic routes.
Thank you again for your time and for creating this wonderful game. Your art is so lovely and you have a real knack for fun character design.
HELLO!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! For me personally I've never been a fan of "if I can't have you no one can <3" type yanderes so knowing that it's a shared sentiment means a lot!!
I actually have something of an idea where MC does something nice for Mychael for a change in Day 4!
It was closer to buying a gift and the players can choose what they'd get for him but adding a cooking/baking option (or a more diverse set of gifts rather than just shopping for it) seems like a good idea! As usual the script is still cooking so we'll see!
As for the charts, they're answered here and explained here!
Also,,, idk if you'll ever read the addition below but I'm holding back on gushing rn because uh, this is for you personally but it's basically an appreciation post for being one of my fave authors <3!!!:
AAAA A A 11 !! ??
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I'm gonna try and articulate myself in the best way I can but I have been a FAN of your writing since??? Gosh, 2015??? I was following your blog back when the pfp was a torchic (and a treecko i think??) and the header was Swiggity swiff Gotta Yiff ?? Idk if you're comfortable with people knowing of your writing but let me know if I should edit anything here!!!
I LOVED your writing so much it was silly and witty but you can do drama and heart and spicy just as well it was a major inspiration!!! I genuinely though it was a little goof when I saw you were following my blog the other day and THEN YOU SEND ME AN ASK??? IM, , , THROUGH THE ROOF, I would mention my fav fics of yours by name but I'd be outing myself but the scope is huge <3
I've been thinking of how to respond to this all DAY and decided to just be honest but but just know I love what you do <3 Admittedly idk if you still write these days but either way I hope you're doing well!!!! <3
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ikeucity · 11 hours
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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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emjayewrites · 3 days
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fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (4/10)
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SYNOPSIS: Aurélien Tchouaméni, one of football’s rising stars, is used to navigating the pressures of the pitch—but nothing could prepare him for an arranged marriage. With his family’s legacy and cultural traditions at stake, Aurélien reluctantly agrees to marry a woman he barely knows. But as they’re thrust into the public eye, sparks fly in unexpected ways. The two must navigate the complexities of love, duty, and fame, all while figuring out if they’re playing on the same team—or if their hearts are destined for different paths.
PAIRINGS: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Zuri Awanto Nchang (faceclaim Samira Ahmed @/iamsamiira)
WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., dry humor/wit, slight arguing, friends to lovers, instant attraction, angst, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)
TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @essaysbyciara @saturnville @trentswrld @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu @tchouathon @greyishbach @shelovesfootie @certifiedlesbianbaddie @trinitoldyouso @bbgkoo
A/N: Doing my best to incorporate bits about Cameroonian culture as best as possible. Thank you again for your love and appreciation!
Zuri tilted her head, examining her reflection in the salon mirror. The warm auburn tones of her newly dyed hair caught the light, giving her skin a golden glow. She ran her fingers through the silky strands, marveling at the smoothness of the press.
"¿Te gusta?" the stylist asked, a hopeful smile on her face.
Zuri nodded enthusiastically. "Me encanta," she replied, her Spanish still hesitant but steadily improving. "It's perfect."
Stepping out of the salon, Zuri blinked against the bright Madrid sun. She pulled out her phone, tapping the Uber app to request a ride. As she waited, her agency's notification popped up again. They'd been shocked when she'd informed them of her move to Spain, but she'd managed to dodge their questions about the reason. How exactly does one explain an arranged marriage in the 21st century without sounding like you've lost your mind?
The Uber pulled up, a sleek black sedan that looked out of place among the colorful Spanish cars. Zuri slid into the backseat, giving the driver a polite nod before losing herself in thought.
It had been a whirlwind few days since Real Madrid's UEFA Super Cup victory in Poland. The city was still buzzing with excitement, and now all eyes were on the upcoming match against Mallorca. Including, apparently, her own.
Aurélien had been... different lately. Considerate in a way she hadn't expected. Always making sure she had enough to eat, asking about her day, suggesting places in Madrid she might enjoy. It was... nice. Confusing as hell, but nice.
The Uber wound its way through Madrid's streets, and Zuri found herself actually appreciating the view. When had that happened? When had this strange city started to feel less alien?
Arriving at Aurélien's - their? - house, Zuri was greeted by Zeus's enthusiastic barking. She bent down to ruffle his fur, giggling as he tried to lick her face.
"Hey, boy," she cooed. "You like the new look?"
As if in response, Zeus gave an approving bark.
Zuri made her way down the hall, her mind already on the packing she needed to do for Mallorca. Aurélien had invited her to the away game, her second match since Poland. She was determined to continue making a good impression, though she wasn't quite ready to examine why that mattered so much to her.
As she pulled out her suitcase, Zuri's phone buzzed with a text from Aurélien:
"Heading home. Want to grab dinner? There's this great tapas place nearby."
Zuri found herself smiling as she typed her reply:
"Sounds perfect. Can't wait. 😊"
As she hit send, Zuri paused, her hand hovering over her open suitcase. When had she started looking forward to spending time with Aurélien? When had his texts started making her smile like this?
She shook her head, trying to clear these confusing thoughts. Focus on packing, she told herself. One step at a time.
But as she folded a sundress into her suitcase, Zuri couldn't help but think about the paparazzi photos she'd seen online. They were claiming she was Lila's new BFF, which was fine by her. It kept her connection to Aurélien under wraps for now, at least until he could discuss everything with his PR team.
The flutter in her stomach returned, stronger this time. Zuri took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This was just an arrangement, she reminded herself. A business deal, essentially. So why did it feel like something was shifting?
As she continued packing, Zuri found herself both dreading and eagerly anticipating the weekend ahead. Whatever was happening between her and Aurélien, whatever this strange new dynamic was, it was clear that Mallorca would be more than just another away game.
The quiet creak of the front door snapped Zuri from her thoughts, followed by the rapid patter of paws and excited barking that echoed through the house. Aurélien was back from training. Zuri took a steadying breath, running her hands over the fresh curls of her new hairstyle. It wasn’t nerves, she told herself—just an adjustment.
When she stepped into the foyer, Aurélien was petting Zeus. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his eyes widening slightly as they landed on her.
"Nice hair," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Ready for dinner?"
Zuri gave a small nod, a bit of warmth creeping up her neck under his approving gaze. "Thanks. Let’s go."
Zuri followed him to his Porsche 911 Turbo S. She watched as Aurélien opened the passenger door for her, waiting patiently for her to slip inside before moving to the opposite side of the car, sliding into the driver's seat, his movements fluid and graceful. His large hands gripped the steering wheel with a casual confidence.
Aurélien navigated the Madrid streets with ease, his muscular forearms flexing slightly as he shifted gears. Zuri found herself stealing glances at his him, the strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he focused on the road. The way he handled the powerful machine with such effortless control was... undeniably attractive.
The tapas restaurant was tucked away on a quiet side street, its warm yellow lights spilling onto the cobblestone sidewalk. Inside, the atmosphere was relaxed and inviting. Exposed brick walls were adorned with vintage posters, and the air was filled with the enticing aroma of garlic and saffron.
They slipped into a corner booth, the noise of the restaurant — soft chatter and the occasional clink of glasses — fading into the background. Zuri finally exhaled fully, feeling some of the unease of the past few weeks start to melt away.
"So," Aurélien said, popping an olive into his mouth, "tell me more about New York. What do you miss most?"
Zuri's mind flooded with images of her favorite coffee shop, late nights with friends, the constant buzz of the city. "Everything," she admitted. "But mostly my friends. It's... different here."
Aurélien nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It takes time," he said softly. "But Madrid has a way of growing on you."
His voice was quieter now, less assured, like he was offering something personal. Zuri tilted her head, curiosity getting the better of her. "How long did it take you?"
Aurélien smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Longer than I care to admit."
Over plates of patatas bravas and gambas al ajillo, their conversation turned to lighter topics. Zuri discovered that, despite his tough exterior, Aurélien had a soft spot for cheesy rom-coms, something that made her laugh out loud. She countered by confessing her own secret obsession with true crime podcasts, to which Aurélien, smirked and nodded in concurrence, as if he wasn’t surprised by her revelation.
"How's your father?" Aurélien asked as they shared a plate of churros. "No more late-night calls?"
Zuri shook her head. "No calls, but my mom's been texting. Sending over documents and stuff." She hesitated before adding, "My brother's not speaking to my dad right now. He's... not happy about this whole situation."
Aurélien's brow furrowed. "Is he trying to get you to come home?"
Zuri shrugged, suddenly finding the tablecloth fascinating. "I guess. I don't know how I feel about it. We'll cross that bridge if we get there, I suppose."
Something flickered across Aurélien's face, an expression Zuri couldn't quite decipher. Was it concern? Disappointment? Before she could analyze it further, it was gone, replaced by his usual calm demeanor.
The drive back home was quiet. Zuri found her mind racing. Did Aurélien care if she went back to New York? It had barely been two weeks - surely he hadn't gotten attached to her already? And more pressingly, why did the thought of leaving make her feel so... unsettled?
She snuck a glance at Aurélien, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the passing streetlights. He was still a mystery to her, this man she was supposed to marry. But with every passing day, every conversation, that mystery was starting to unravel bit by bit.
And for the first time, Zuri wasn’t sure if she was ready for what she’d find at the heart of it all.
They arrived back at the house, the silence between them comfortable yet charged with an undercurrent of... something. Aurélien settled onto the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Zuri, suddenly feeling awkward, started to head towards her room.
"Where are you going?" Aurélien's voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Oh, I, uh... just thought I'd turn in early," Zuri stammered, the excuse sounding weak even to her own ears.
Aurélien arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smirk. "Nah, ZuZu, come sit down so we can finish this crime documentary series."
Zuri blinked in surprise. Well, damn okay... she thought, surprised and slightly aroused by his somewhat commanding tone.
She made her way back to the couch, where Aurélien patted a spot eagerly next to him - real close. She did as she was told, flabbergasted by the shift in his demeanor from the restaurant to now.
As usual, he'd thrown her for a loop, but she tried to relax as he grabbed the remote, pressed the Netflix icon, and resumed the limited series they'd been watching.
As the episode played, Aurélien couldn't seem to contain his commentary. "Man, some guys are just shit, you know?" he muttered, shaking his head at the latest revelation in the case.
Zuri gave him a look, half amused, half skeptical.
"What?" Aurélien countered, catching her expression. "You know you've been thinking it."
A small smile appeared on Zuri's lips, unable to deny it. As they continued watching, she found herself relaxing into the couch, acutely aware of Aurélien's presence beside her. The warmth of his body, the subtle scent of his cologne, the way his arm brushed against hers when he gestured at the screen...
When they finally finished the crime documentary series, Aurélien decided to turn on a random rom-com. Zuri felt his fingers graze her shoulder as he reached for the remote, sending a shiver down her spine. These light touches were becoming more frequent, and she found herself both thrilled and terrified by them.
For doing something in their routine together, she was slowly beginning to realize if this was "their thing" now, which was weird because that's something couples do and last time she checked, they were far from it, despite having a wedding on the horizon.
If they even have a wedding, that is.
Her brother was hellbent on having her engagement ended, which she couldn't agree more of due to the ridiculousness of it all - however, Aurélien could be worse. He could be mean, old, and an all-around shitty guy but from her interactions with Lila and his teammates as well as their time together, that was not him at all.
All in all, it was a lot to think about.
"My dad called me earlier today," Aurélien revealed, making small talk.
"Oh? What did he say?" Zuri didn't dare to glance into his hypnotic gaze, fearing she'll get trapped in it once again. Usually, she enjoyed the attention from a guy, but Aurélien's eyes seemed to bore into one's soul and she didn't need to further complicate her feelings.
"Stuff about your bride price," he said, letting out an amused miff. "You're not cheap, ZuZu."
"And you expected that I was?" She retorted sassily, taking this moment to stare directly at him. Big fucking mistake! He glanced at her, head cocked to the side and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It was sexy - dangerously so and she immediately shifted her gaze back onto the television.
"Never," he said finally and she could still feel his eyes on her, making her swallow and shift uncomfortably in her seat. "You're expensive." Hearing him say that in regards to her bride price and essentially buying her off should make her inwardly cringe, but Aurélien's deep timbre and underlying calmness just made her body's temperature rise and her heart thump like a jackrabbit.
"How much am I, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Merde, enough," he said playfully, kissing his teeth. "The elders think so too. Your father never talked to you about your bride price? Or at least your mother?"
"Nope, if you couldn't figure it out already, I'm as Americanized as one can get."
"Hmm," he began, "well it mentions a newly built house for your grandmother, a dozen cattle for your uncle, tithes to the church, jewelry, and some gift for your parents."
Her parents? "What?" That made her stare back at him. She was fine with her grandmother's new house and cattle for her uncle - only because she loved them both dearly and they were the complete opposite of her father - but she drew the line at a gift for her parents. "Like what exactly?"
"Bride's choice," he told her, "however your dad told mine that you wanted him to have a new car."
Of course he fucking did! "What?!"
"Yeah, figured that isn't true, especially after you mentioned at dinner that you haven't spoken with him recently. Glad we got that cleared up."
Zuri felt a surge of anger towards her father, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of gratitude towards Aurélien. He'd seen through her father's lie, had understood her well enough to know she wouldn't have made that request.
"Thank you," she said softly, meeting his eyes. "For not... assuming."
Aurélien's gaze softened, and for a moment, Zuri felt like she could drown in those eyes. "Of course," he murmured. "We're in this together, remember?"
As they turned back to the movie, Zuri found herself leaning slightly closer to Aurélien.
"Have you ever been to Mallorca?" Aurélien asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
Zuri nodded. "Yeah, actually. I went with my best friend Senait a couple of years ago."
"Senait?" Aurélien repeated, his accent wrapping around the unfamiliar name.
"She's Eritrean," Zuri explained. "We've been friends since college. I miss her like crazy." She sighed, a wistful smile on her face. "We text all the time, but it's not the same, you know?"
Aurélien nodded thoughtfully. "I'll see if she can come to Madrid."
"Are you for real?" Zuri asked, straightening in her seat.
"Yeah, you miss your best friend. Have to fly her out."
"Oh Aurél, thank you!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. He tentatively hugged her back, and when she pulled back slightly, their faces were mere inches apart. "I really appreciate it," she said softly, her eyes locked on his.
"Y-yeah, of course," he replied, not moving from their embrace. "But after our families leave, okay?"
"Okay," Zuri agreed, reluctantly moving back to her spot on the couch. She glanced at her phone, trying to break whatever spell had fallen over them. "We should head to bed. It's getting late, and we have an early flight."
"Didn't realize how late it was, shit," Aurélien said, standing up quickly then leaned forward to place a kiss on her temple. "Good night, ma chérie."
"Good night," Zuri responded in a daze, watching as he headed upstairs with Zeus at his heels.
After turning off the TV, Zuri retreated to her room. She put a few last-minute items in her carry-on before starting her nightly routine.
She began by carefully brushing her hair, sweeping it around her head like a crown. With practiced movements, she secured it with duck clips, then wrapped a silk scarf around her head. Finally, she pulled on her satin bonnet, ensuring every strand was protected.
As she went through her skincare routine and brushed her teeth, Zuri's mind kept drifting back to Aurélien. The warmth of his embrace, the intensity in his eyes when they'd been so close...
Slipping into bed, she couldn't help but smile. Despite all the complications and uncertainties, she had to admit – being in Aurélien's arms had felt pretty damn good.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
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Aurélien was sitting on the couch, relaxed, with Zuri tucked into his side. The faint glow of the TV flickered across the room as they watched Netflix, the air thick with a quiet, easy comfort. Zuri laughed at something on screen, her head falling against his shoulder as she glanced up at him, eyes warm and bright.
"I got you something," Aurélien murmured, turning toward her.
Her face lit up with excitement. "Really? What is it?"
Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. Her arms flew around his neck in a tight embrace, catching him off guard. The way she held him, pressed so close, made his pulse quicken. The feel of her body against his — soft, warm, familiar — shifted something in him.
The hug lingered, and then, as if on instinct, their eyes met, and before either of them could think twice, he kissed her. It started slow, innocent, but quickly grew heated. Zuri responded just as eagerly, her hands sliding into his hair, pulling him closer.
In one swift movement, he had her beneath him on the couch. The movie long forgotten, he trailed kisses down her neck, his hands slipping under her shirt, finding the warmth of her skin. Zuri gasped softly, arching into him, her fingers clutching his shoulders. He gripped her thighs, pulling her legs around his waist, settling between them as the tension between them escalated to something primal.
With their clothes off, he then entered her in one smooth thrust, a groan escaping his throat as her body wrapped around his. The sensation was overwhelming, her tight heat drawing him deeper, her soft moans driving him wild. Every movement felt electric, like they were perfectly in sync, the rhythm of their bodies a perfect match. He buried his face in her neck, losing himself in the feeling of her, the taste of her, everything he’d imagined and more.
Just as he was reaching the peak, his iPhone alarm blared into the quiet room, yanking him from the vivid dream. Aurélien bolted upright, chest heaving, his body slick with sweat. He glanced down, cursing under his breath as he saw the wet spot in the crotch of his boxers, his semi-deflated morning wood still straining against the fabric.
"Merde," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, planting his face in his hands. His breath came in heavy, uneven bursts as he tried to shake the remnants of the dream.
It had been a long time — years, in fact — since he’d had a wet dream this vivid. And what made it worse was that it wasn’t some random woman; it was Zuri. The woman sleeping just downstairs. His future wife. His attraction to her had been steadily growing since she’d arrived, but this? This was something different altogether.
His body was reacting to her in ways he couldn’t control, ways he hadn’t prepared for. And now? It was only going to get worse. He could feel it, deep in his gut, how much he wanted her. The dream had made it clear — too clear.
Aurélien sighed, standing up and padding toward the bathroom, slipping off his boxers and turning the shower on. The water was cold at first, a shock to his heated skin, but he needed it. He stepped in, the stream pounding against his tense muscles as his mind wandered back to Zuri.
She had felt so good in his arms, so right. And that kiss… The way she melted into him in the dream. If that was any indication of how things might go between them in reality, he knew they would be explosive together. His body still throbbed at the memory, but he pushed it aside. They hadn’t even touched each other like that yet. But eventually, they would.
They were going to be sharing a bed soon enough, and the way things were going, it wouldn’t be long before they crossed that line. Sex would be second nature at that point. Yet, as much as he wanted it, he couldn’t ignore the complications it would bring. Sleeping together would blur the lines even more, making their situation more real, more tangled.
But then again, what could he do? Send her back to New York? Even if he did, he’d still be thinking about her, yearning for her from thousands of kilometers away. She was under his skin now, and there was no easy way to shake it.
He finished his shower, drying off quickly before getting dressed. His mind was still clouded with thoughts of Zuri as he moved around the room, grabbing his things for the day. They had a flight to catch — another match, another distraction. Maybe that would help, though he doubted it.
As he headed downstairs into the living room with his bags in tow, Zuri was already there, scrolling through her phone as she waited with her carry-on. She looked up when he entered, her face lighting up with a smile that only made his chest tighten. He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on her for a moment longer than usual, the memory of the dream flashing in his mind.
"You ready?" she asked, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside him.
Aurélien nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, let’s go."
He petted Zeus goodbye and sent a text out to his chef, letting him know they were leaving and to come to check on his dog before they headed out to the car and drove to the airport. His hands gripped the wheel a little tighter than necessary. He tried to focus on the road, but his thoughts kept drifting back to her, to that dream, to how much he wanted her in ways he hadn’t even admitted to himself yet.
This is going to get messy, he thought, his jaw tightening. Really messy.
______________________________________________
Zuri shifted in her seat of Aurélien's Porsche, immediately noticing the shift in his demeanor. Gone was the warmth and playfulness from the night before, replaced by a tense silence that filled the car like a heavy fog.
She tried to engage him in conversation, even commenting on the SZA song playing softly on the radio, but Aurélien remained frustratingly aloof. His jaw was set, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.
Letting out an almost brat-like harrumph, Zuri folded her arms over her chest and pouted as she glanced out the window. What the hell was his problem?
When they arrived at the airport, Zuri didn't wait for Aurélien to open her door. She marched to the trunk, pulling out her carry-on and weekender tote with more force than necessary.
"ZuZu, let me—" Aurélien started.
"No, I got it," she said curtly, causing Aurélien to raise an eyebrow in surprise.
"Chérie, what do you think you're—"
"My favorite couple - Mr. and Mrs. Tchouaméni!" Camavinga's voice cut through the tension as he approached with open arms. "Ready to kick Mallorca's ass, Aurél?"
Zuri didn't stick around to hear Aurélien's response. She breezed past them like a bat out of hell, clipping Aurélien's arm as she went.
"ZuZu," he called after her, but Zuri's only response was a raised middle finger as she stormed into the airport.
Her mind raced as she made her way to the TSA checkpoint. How could she have been so stupid? Thinking he was sweet, that he actually cared about her wellbeing. God, she hated how he made her feel, how quickly he could go from charming to cold. She just wanted to go home.
As Zuri stood in the TSA line, fumbling with her passport and mobile ticket, a commotion behind her caught her attention. She glanced back to see the Real Madrid team striding through the airport, a small crowd of fans and paparazzi trailing in their wake.
Her eyes landed on Jude and Lila, walking hand in hand. To her surprise, Jude suddenly changed course, guiding Lila towards the TSA line where Zuri stood.
"Hey, Z," Jude greeted with a warm smile. "Thought you'd be with Aurélien."
Zuri managed a tight smile in response, not trusting herself to speak.
Lila's eyes narrowed slightly, picking up on the tension. "Yeah, why didn't you walk in with him?"
Before Zuri could formulate a response, Jude glanced at his watch. "Shit, I've got to go. See you on the other side, babes." He gave Lila a quick kiss, nodded to Zuri, and jogged off to catch up with his teammates.
As soon as Jude was out of earshot, Lila turned to Zuri, eyebrow raised. "Okay, spill. What's going on?"
Zuri let out a groan that seemed to come from her very soul.
"Oh," Lila said, understanding dawning on her face. "Lover's spat?"
Zuri nodded, her frustration evident in every line of her body. "He's being... I don't even know. Last night he was all sweet and considerate, and this morning it's like I don't even exist."
Lila linked her arm through Zuri's, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Men," she said, rolling her eyes. "They're all idiots sometimes. Even the good ones."
As they inched forward in the line, Zuri found herself spilling the whole story to Lila - the cozy evening, the morning's cold shoulder, her confusion and anger.
Lila listened attentively, offering sympathetic nods and the occasional "What an ass" at appropriate moments. By the time they reached the front of the line, Zuri felt marginally better, if no less confused.
"Look," Lila said as they gathered their belongings post-security check, "I don't know what's going on in Aurélien's head, but I do know he's not usually like this. Give him some time to sort himself out. And in the meantime," she added with a mischievous grin, "we'll have ourselves a girls' weekend in Mallorca. Show him what he's missing."
Despite herself, Zuri felt a smile tugging at her lips. She might be stuck in this bizarre arranged marriage situation, but at least she had found a true friend in Lila. Maybe this trip wouldn't be a total disaster after all.
As they made their way to their gate, Zuri caught sight of Aurélien in the distance, his tall frame unmistakable even from afar. She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin defiantly. Whatever game he was playing, she refused to be a pawn. Two could play at this hot-and-cold routine, and Zuri was ready to give as good as she got.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
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Aurélien stepped off the private jet, the warm Mallorca air hitting him like a wall. His teammates chattered excitedly around him, but he barely registered their words. His mind was still back at the airport in Madrid, replaying the hurt and anger in Zuri's eyes as she stormed away from him.
He hadn't meant to be so cold, but the dream from the night before had shaken him more than he cared to admit. The intensity of his growing feelings for Zuri terrified him. This was supposed to be an arrangement, nothing more. And yet...
"Oi, Tchouaméni!" Jude's voice cut through his thoughts. "You coming or what?"
Aurélien blinked, realizing he'd been standing at the foot of the jet's stairs, lost in thought. He nodded, hefting his bag and following his teammates to the waiting bus.
As he settled into a seat, Camavinga dropped down beside him. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, his tone light but his eyes concerned.
Aurélien grunted noncommittally, but Camavinga wasn't deterred. "Come on, man. We all saw that little scene at the airport. What's going on with you and Zuri?"
For a moment, Aurélien considered brushing him off. But the weight of his confused emotions was becoming too much to bear alone. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "It's all... it's complicated."
Camavinga nodded sympathetically. "Arranged marriages usually are. But Zuri seems cool. And you two looked pretty cozy that night at dinner in Warsaw."
Aurélién's head snapped up. "You saw that?"
"Hard to miss," Camavinga grinned. "You were practically undressing her with your eyes."
Aurélien felt heat creep up his neck. "It's not like that," he muttered, but even to his own ears, the protest sounded weak.
"Sure it's not," Camavinga said, his tone making it clear he didn't believe a word. "Look, man, I get it. This whole situation is weird. But pushing her away isn't going to make it any less complicated. If anything, it'll just make you both miserable."
As the bus pulled away from the tarmac, Aurélien found himself mulling over Camavinga's words. He'd been so focused on maintaining distance, on not getting too invested, that he'd hurt Zuri in the process. The memory of her raised middle finger as she stormed away made him wince.
"I fucked up, didn't I?" he said, more to himself than to Camavinga.
His teammate clapped him on the shoulder. "Probably. But the good news is, you can still fix it. Just... talk to her, man. Be honest."
Aurélien nodded, a plan already forming in his mind. He'd find Zuri as soon as they got to the hotel. He'd apologize, explain himself.
As the bus pulled up to the hotel - or rather, the sprawling villa that would serve as their accommodations - Jude let out a low whistle. "Well, this is a step up from last year," he chuckled, eyeing the lush gardens and sparkling pool visible from the driveway.
The team filed off the bus, their excited chatter filling the air. Ancelotti's voice cut through the noise, reminding them of their early morning practice before granting them the evening off.
Aurélien's eyes immediately scanned the area, landing on another bus where the players' girlfriends and wives were disembarking. His heart skipped a beat when he spotted Zuri, standing next to Lila.
Before he could make a move, Jude was already jogging towards the women. Aurélien watched as his teammate leaned down to whisper something in Lila's ear, causing her to gasp and take a playful swing at him. Jude easily dodged it, wrapping his arms around her and hoisting her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Jude!" Lila yelped, laughing despite her protests. "Put me down!"
"Get in there, Jude!" Vini Jr whooped, earning a thumbs up from Jude as he carried his girlfriend away, pausing only to direct a bellhop towards their luggage.
Aurélien shook his head at their antics, but his amusement faded when his eyes met Zuri's. Her gaze was cold, narrowed in clear displeasure. Taking a deep breath, he hiked his bag higher on his shoulder and approached her.
He heard her suck her teeth as he neared, her attention deliberately focused on her phone. "Zuri, can we talk?" he asked, only to be met with stony silence.
Frustration bubbled up inside him. "Seriously? You're going to ignore me?" When she continued scrolling, he acted on impulse, plucking the phone from her hand.
"What the fuck are you doing, Aurélien?" Zuri snapped, anger flashing in her eyes.
"I'm trying to talk to my fiancée," he retorted.
Zuri let out a sardonic laugh. "Oh, now I'm your fiancée? But earlier this morning, you pretended like I didn't even exist. Can you make up your mind please? I deal with this back-and-forth bullshit with my father, and I damn sure don't want it to happen in my marriage."
"I wasn't ignoring you," he lied, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.
Zuri's look made it clear she wasn't buying it.
"Okay, listen," he backtracked. "I apologize for what happened in the car, okay? It's just... shit is getting real. We have our families coming in a couple of weeks, and there's still too much we have to work through." Like how much I want to fuck you, he thought, but didn't dare say. "Plus, your father is bothering my father about this whole car bullshit... and I..." he trailed off, lost in her gaze.
Zuri shook her head, exhaling heavily. "I thought we were in this together, Aurélien? You put so much effort into me, and I can't do the same? Or at least be a listening ear when things get rough? How do you expect this marriage to work?"
Her words left him speechless. "You don't have to worry about me, Zuri," he finally managed. "I have to worry about both of us, as the husband–"
"Oh, spare me this old macho, man of the house spiel!" Zuri cut him off. "We both know that's a cop-out. I know both of our fathers put us into this situation, but I can tell that your father didn't raise you to believe anything you're saying right now. Did he?"
Aurélien shook his head, unable to deny it.
"So where is this coming from? Do you hate me or something?"
"No, Zuri–"
"So what's up?"
Again, he found himself at a loss for words, struggling to explain the turmoil inside him.
Zuri let out a frustrated growl. "Fine, be like that. Until you tell me what's wrong with you, I don't have anything else to talk to you about. Now give me back my phone so I can get to my room."
Aurélien stepped aside, handed back her phone and watched helplessly as Zuri trudged away, dragging her carry-on behind her. As she disappeared into the hotel, he realized he'd somehow managed to make things even worse.
"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand over his face. He had some serious damage control to do, and he had no idea where to start.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Aurélien sauntered inside the hotel, barely registering the opulent lobby with its soaring ceilings and gleaming marble floors. He checked in mechanically, his mind still replaying his disastrous conversation with Zuri.
The elevator ride to his floor felt interminable. When he finally reached his room, he tossed his bag aside and flopped onto the plush king-sized bed, staring blankly at the ornate ceiling.
How does one apologize to their fiancée in a way that admits to their fuck-ups? he wondered. He could take the easy route – buy her some expensive jewelry and hope she'd forget the whole thing. But Zuri didn't strike him as the type of woman who'd be swayed by material gestures. And if he was honest with himself, it probably wouldn't work anyway. It certainly hadn't in his previous relationships.
Aurélien groaned, thumping his head against the pillow. He had a bad habit of being avoidant in relationship conflicts, and this wasn't how he wanted to handle things now. Not with Zuri. Not with this impending marriage that, arranged or not, was becoming increasingly important to him.
Suddenly, a rhythmic thumping from the other side of the wall interrupted his brooding. The unmistakable sound of a bed hitting the wall, accompanied by muffled moans, filled the air.
Jude, Aurélien thought with a mix of amusement and frustration. The club tended to assign rooms by position, which meant he often shared a wall with Bellingham.
He couldn't decide if this was God trying to spite him, laughing at his sexual frustration, or serving up an epiphany of how things could be if he'd just been honest with Zuri. Not that they'd immediately jump into bed together, but at least she'd know where both of his heads were at.
It made no sense how he could like a woman to the point of constant blue balls, and yet here he was. Maybe it was all the time they'd spent together over the past couple of weeks. Or maybe the elders were right – this was a "strong match."
Either way, Aurélien couldn't lie there listening to Jude's enthusiastic fucking. He hauled himself off the bed and banged on the wall a couple of times. To his surprise, the banging was returned in kind.
"Motherfucker," he cursed, hitting the wall again. This time, there was no response. Instead, a few moments later, there was a knock at his door.
Chuckling to himself, Aurélien padded over and swung it open, coming face to face with a shirtless Jude.
"The fuck you doing, mate?" Jude asked, looking more annoyed than amused.
"You guys are loud," Aurélien stated nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jude just shrugged. "Use some AirPods or maybe stop being a dick and talk to Zuri."
That comment made Aurélien arch an eyebrow. "What the hell, Jude?"
"Lila told me what happened with you and Zuri. Really fucked up, and your bullshit almost messed up my 'special time' with my girl." Jude said. "And you know how much I enjoy our 'special time'."
"You're a fucking fiend, that's what you are," Aurélien joked, but Jude wasn't in a playful mood.
"Anyway, Lila and Z are basically besties now, so you can imagine how that works out. Fix it, Aurél." Jude said, then turned to head back to his room.
Aurélien poked his head out the doorframe. "So are you going to keep it down or...?"
"Fuck no," was Jude's response before he disappeared back into his room, the door closing firmly behind him.
Left alone in the hallway, Aurélien sighed. He had some serious thinking to do, and apparently, he'd be doing it to the soundtrack of Jude and Lila's fuckfest. Wonderful.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
_______________________________________________
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Match day dawned bright and clear, the Mallorcan sun already warm despite the early hour. Zuri stood in front of the full-length mirror in her hotel room, smoothing down the front of Aurélien's jersey. The oversized garment hung loosely on her frame, the number 14 emblazoned boldly across her back. She'd paired it with high-waisted denim shorts and white sneakers, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail.
The irony of wearing his jersey wasn't lost on her. After their argument yesterday, she'd been tempted to leave it crumpled at the bottom of her suitcase. But something – stubbornness, maybe, or a desire to keep up appearances – had made her put it on.
As she applied a final swipe of lip gloss, Zuri's mind drifted back to the previous day. Aurélien's hot-and-cold behavior had left her reeling, confused, and more than a little hurt. She'd spent the evening with Lila, venting her frustrations and trying to make sense of it all.
Now, as she gathered her things to head down to the lobby, Zuri wondered if Aurélien fell into that category. Was he a good one just having a momentary lapse, or was this a glimpse of what their future held?
The knock on her door startled her out of her reverie. "Z? You ready?" Lila's voice called from the hallway.
Zuri took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. Whatever happened with Aurélien, she was determined to enjoy this day. She was in Mallorca, about to watch a professional football match up close. She wasn't going to let relationship drama ruin that.
"Coming!" she called back, grabbing her sunglasses and room key.
As she stepped into the hallway, Lila's eyes widened appreciatively. "Damn, girl. You're going to give Aurélien a heart attack in that jersey."
Zuri felt a small, satisfied smile tug at her lips. "Good," she said, linking arms with Lila. "Maybe it'll shock some sense into him."
As they made their way down to the lobby, Zuri's stomach fluttered with a mix of excitement and nerves. She was looking forward to the match, to experiencing the energy of the crowd and watching Aurélien play. But she was also dreading the inevitable moment when she'd have to face him.
What would he say? How would he act? And more importantly, how would she respond?
Stepping out into the bright Mallorcan sunshine, Zuri took another deep breath. Whatever happened, she was ready. She might be in an impending arranged marriage, but she wasn't about to let anyone – not even her future husband – treat her like she didn't matter.
Game on, Aurélien, she thought as she climbed into the waiting car. Game on.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Zuri settled into her seat at Son Moix stadium, the energy of the crowd pulsing around her. The Real Madrid fans were out in force, their white jerseys creating a sea of support amidst the red of the Mallorca faithful.
As the teams took to the field, Zuri's eyes immediately found Aurélien. Despite her lingering frustration with him, she couldn't help but admire how he looked in his kit, tall and imposing as he jogged into position. The match kicked off, and Zuri found herself caught up in the ebb and flow of the game. She watched intently as Kylian Mbappé darted across the field.
In the 23rd minute, the crowd around her erupted. Rodrygo had curled a beautiful shot into the net, courtesy of a clever backheel from Vinicius Jr. Zuri found herself on her feet, cheering along with everyone else.
"Did you see that?" Lila shouted over the noise. "That's why they call it the beautiful game!"
As the first half wore on, Zuri's attention kept drifting back to Aurélién. He was everywhere on the field, intercepting passes, setting up plays. She felt a surge of pride, which she quickly tried to tamp down. She was still mad at him, after all.
The halftime whistle blew with Real Madrid leading 1-0. As the players jogged off the field, Zuri caught Aurélién glancing up at the stands. For a moment, their eyes met, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as his eyes scanned her body, his intense gaze lingering on the jersey she wore.
"Come on," Lila said, tugging at her arm. "Let's grab some snacks before the second half starts."
As they made their way through the concourse, Zuri's mind was racing. That look... what did it mean?
The second half kicked off with renewed intensity. Mallorca came out fighting, determined to equalize. In the 66th minute, their efforts paid off. Vedat Muriqi rose above the Madrid defense to head home a cross from Dani Rodriguez.
The stadium erupted, this time with the home fans' jubilation. Zuri watched as Aurélién's shoulders slumped slightly, frustration evident in his posture.
As the match neared its end, tensions rose. Mbappé had several near misses, including a shot that flashed just wide of the post. Zuri found herself holding her breath each time he got the ball, half expecting magic to happen.
In the dying moments of the game, chaos erupted. Ferland Mendy, in a moment of desperation or poor judgment, lunged at Muriqi. The referee didn't hesitate, brandishing a red card.
"Oh shit," Lila muttered beside her. "That's not good."
The final whistle blew moments later, the match ending in a 1-1 draw. As the players trudged off the field, Zuri felt a mix of emotions. Disappointment at the result, pride in Aurélién's performance, and a lingering uncertainty about what would happen next between them.
As they filed out of the stadium, Lila turned to her. "So, are you going to talk to him?"
Zuri sighed, running a hand through her ponytail. "I guess I have to, don't I?"
Lila squeezed her arm supportively. "Just remember, you deserve answers. And respect. Don't let him off the hook too easily."
Nodding, Zuri steeled herself for what was to come. Whatever happened next, she was determined to face it head-on. No more games, no more confusion. It was time for her and Aurélien to figure out exactly what this arrangement meant for both of them.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
_____________________________________________
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the hotel's outdoor restaurant, Zuri found herself seated at a large table with Aurélien, Kylian, Eduardo, Rodrygo, Jude, and Lila. The atmosphere was surprisingly light despite the day's draw, the players seemingly determined to enjoy their extended stay in Mallorca.
The sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air as they perused the menu. Zuri couldn't help but feel a bit out of place, still unsure of where she stood with Aurélien.
"I still can't believe that red card," Rodrygo groaned, shaking his head. "Mendy's going to be kicking himself for days."
Kylian nodded sympathetically. "It happens, man. We'll bounce back next match."
As the waiter arrived to take their orders, Zuri found herself gravitating towards a seafood paella, figuring she might as well embrace the local cuisine.
"Excellent choice," Aurélien murmured from beside her, his voice low enough that only she could hear. She felt a shiver run down her spine but kept her expression neutral.
The conversation flowed easily as they waited for their food, the guys recounting funny moments from past matches and sharing their plans for their mini-vacation.
"I'm thinking about renting a boat tomorrow," Jude announced, his arm draped casually over Lila's shoulders. "Anyone want to join?"
"Count us in," Kylian grinned, gesturing to himself and Eduardo.
Zuri caught Lila's eye across the table, silently communicating her uncertainty. Lila gave her a small, encouraging nod.
As their meals arrived, the table fell into a comfortable silence punctuated by appreciative murmurs. Zuri had to admit, the paella was incredible, bursting with flavor and perfectly cooked seafood.
"So, Zuri," Rodrygo said, breaking the silence, "what did you think of your second La Liga match?"
She swallowed her bite, aware of Aurélien's gaze on her. "It was... intense," she admitted. "I'm still learning, but I can see why you guys love it so much."
"Give it time," Kylian laughed. "Soon you'll be yelling at the ref like a pro."
As the meal wound down and they lingered over dessert and coffee, Zuri felt a gentle touch on her arm. She turned to find Aurélien looking at her, his expression unreadable.
"Can we go for a walk?" he asked quietly. "I think we need to talk."
Zuri hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."
As they stood, she noticed the others exchanging glances. Lila gave her a subtle thumbs up, while Jude nodded approvingly at Aurélien.
"We'll be back," Aurélien announced to the table. "Just going to stretch our legs a bit."
As they walked away from the restaurant, Zuri's heart was pounding. This was it. Whatever was going on between them, whatever had caused Aurélien's strange behavior, it was time to face it head-on.
As they strolled along the beach, the soft sound of waves lapping at the shore filling the air, Aurélien broke the silence.
"You looked beautiful today," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers. "I was... distracted during the game."
Zuri raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why's that?"
Aurélien's lips quirked into a sheepish smile. "You looked so fucking hot in my jersey. Got me geekin' like Jude when I spotted you."
Suddenly, the intense look he'd given her at halftime made sense. "Oh?" she teased, a warmth spreading through her chest.
"I was this close to jumping over the barrier and kissing you, swear to God," he said, pinching his thumb and forefinger together for emphasis.
Zuri couldn't help but laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. As their laughter died down, she shook her head, inwardly frustrated at how quickly her anger was dissipating.
They walked further down the beach, the tension between them slowly easing. Finally, Aurélien stopped, turning to face her.
"Zuri, I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere. "I... I've been struggling with something."
She waited, her heart pounding.
"I’m starting to like you," he admitted, his eyes searching hers. "And that scares the shit out of me."
Zuri felt her breath catch in her throat. "You’re... starting to like me?"
Aurélien nodded, looking almost vulnerable. "Yeah. I am."
Without thinking, Zuri stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. His arms tightened around her waist, the embrace lingering.
When they pulled back slightly, Aurélien's gaze dropped to her lips. He bit his bottom lip, a gesture Zuri was quickly coming to adore, and leaned in.
Zuri felt herself leaning forward too, her eyes starting to close...
"¡Disculpe! ¿Señor Tchouaméni?"
They jumped apart as a fan approached, speaking rapid Spanish. Zuri didn't understand until the person handed her their phone, asking in broken English for her to take a photo.
After the impromptu photo session, they found themselves alone again. Aurélien rubbed his neck nervously.
"We should probably head back to the group," he suggested, not mentioning their almost-kiss.
Zuri nodded, surprised but deciding not to push it. They'd had enough drama for one day. As they walked back towards the restaurant, a comfortable silence settled between them. Zuri's mind kept replaying their almost-kiss, her lips tingling with the memory of how close they'd been. She stole a glance at Aurélien, catching him doing the same. Their eyes met, and a shy smile spread across both their faces.
Sure they hadn't kissed yet, but Zuri had a feeling it was only a matter of time. And for once, the thought of her arranged marriage didn't fill her with dread.
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The yacht cut through the azure waters, leaving a frothy trail in its wake. Aurélien leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on Zuri, a cold red solo cup sweating in his hand. She was at the bow with Lila, their animated chatter punctuated by bursts of laughter that carried over the sound of Don Toliver's latest track thumping from the yacht's speakers.
"Man, you've got it bad," Jude chuckled, dropping into the seat beside him.
Aurélien shrugged, not bothering to deny it. "She's... something else."
"Tell me about it," Camavinga chimed in, joining them. "Never thought I'd see the day when you got whipped."
The guys laughed, but Aurélien didn't mind the teasing. His eyes were drawn back to Zuri, watching as she threw her head back in laughter at something Lila said.
Zuri turned, catching his eye. She flashed him a smile that made his stomach do a little flip, and he found himself grinning back like an idiot.
"You know," Kylian said, "it's nice to see Zuri settling in. Lila's been good for her.”
Aurélien nodded, grateful that Zuri had found a friend in this new world she'd been thrust into. "Yeah, it is," he agreed, his eyes drawn back to her as if magnetized.
The day unfolded in a blur of laughter and sea spray. Aurélien found himself constantly torn between wanting to be near Zuri and trying to give her space. He was determined to do this right, to really get to know her beyond the confines of their arrangement. But damn if it wasn’t hard to keep his hands to himself when she looked like that in her bikini.
The sun-kissed her skin, highlighting every curve in the most tempting way. Her bikini was simple, nothing overly flashy — yet it hugged her body in all the right places, the soft fabric clinging to her hips, and her chest, making his throat dry. And then there were her nipple piercings, barely visible through the thin top but enough to drive him insane. They were just subtle enough to tease, small hints of metal catching the light each time she moved, taunting him. His eyes kept drifting back to them, imagining what they’d feel like beneath his fingertips, his tongue.
Focus, he scolded himself, dragging his gaze away, but it was impossible not to notice her, and he fought back a groan.
Zuri, oblivious to the firestorm raging inside him, turned to face him, her lips curled into a teasing smile. "You good over there?"
He blinked, his mouth dry as he forced a grin. "Yeah… just, uh… taking it all in."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Mhm. Sure."
And as the day wore on, Aurélien realized something: he was completely fucked. This attraction wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, it was only growing stronger, pulling him closer to her like a riptide. And the more he tried to fight it, the harder it became to resist.
When Zuri decided to try paddleboarding, Aurélien couldn't resist swimming over to her. She was wobbling precariously, her face set in adorable determination.
"Need some help there?" he called out, treading water nearby.
Zuri shot him a playful glare. "I've got this, thank you very much."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than a small wave caught her off guard, sending her tumbling into the water with a yelp. Aurélien was there in an instant, helping her surface.
"You were saying?" he teased, earning himself a splash of water to the face.
Their laughter mingled with the salt spray, and for a moment, Aurélien forgot about everything else – the arrangement, the pressure, the uncertainty.
Later, as the sun began to set, Aurélien found himself alone with Zuri at the stern. Before he could overthink it, he blurted out, "Hey, when we get back to Madrid, you wanna go out sometime?"
"Like a date?" Zuri looked surprised, then amused. "You mean, like normal people who aren't in an arranged marriage?"
"Yeah, exactly like that. I want to do this right, you know? Get to know you without all the..." he waved his hand vaguely, "arranged bullshit hanging over us. You down?"
Zuri studied him for a moment, her dark eyes searching his face. The vulnerability in her expression made his chest tighten in a way he wasn't quite ready to examine.
"Yeah," she said finally, her voice soft. "I'm down."
Aurélien's lips curled into a smirk, his eyebrow arching playfully. "Okay, so you want to get to know me better too, huh?" The teasing lilt in his voice barely masked the genuine curiosity underneath.
Zuri rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her gaze betrayed her amusement. "Don't get too full of yourself," she shot back, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
"All jokes aside," he said, his voice softening, "I mean it. I'd like to get to know you better. No rush, no pressure — just us."
"Sounds good," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the lapping waves.
Aurélien felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Good. Then we'll take it one step at a time."
TO BE CONTINUED....
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frodo-with-glasses · 6 hours
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Where have you been?
Uhhh, France?
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(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)
So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.
So what happened?
Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.
Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.
Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.
Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.
But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.
I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.
But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.
My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.
Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.
This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.
Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚
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moonbaby26 · 15 hours
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Title: The Best Laid Plans
(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)
*Crossposted to AO3 Here*
Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)
Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)
Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.
A/N: Not fully proofread! I will buzz back through later to clean up mistakes. I had a personal goal to post an update by this weekend, and I wanted to stick to it. 🫡
Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18
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“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”
Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.
Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.
But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.
Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.
Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.
And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.” 
The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.
Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.
“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”
The snail finally smiled a little there.
“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can’t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.
“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public. 
And why not? 
The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.
“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.
The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”
But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.
“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”
Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.
“Yes, Joker.”
The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.
Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.
Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.
All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.
So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.
The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.
But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.
“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now. 
Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.
It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.
The snail paused. 
“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.
Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.
“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.
He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.
A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.
“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.
“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.
Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”
“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence. 
“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”
The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.
He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.
Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.
And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.
But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.
Because Joker would have what he wanted.
Always.
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This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.
Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.
But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening. 
Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.
Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.
King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.
And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.
After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.
He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child. 
And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.
But no.
Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.
She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.
The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.
“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.
But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.
Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.
Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.
And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.
“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all. 
The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.
“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”
And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.
Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.
“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.
A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething. 
Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.
And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.
Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.
That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.
“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.
“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”
And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”
Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”
The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.
Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.
But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.
This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.
“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”
Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.
“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”
Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.
“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”
And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.
“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”
Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”
The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”
Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.
Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.
The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.
This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.
“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”
Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.
But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.
His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”
And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”
“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.
And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.
“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.
The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.
It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”
Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.
But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?
Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.
Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.
And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.
Doflamingo would be elated. 
And Crocodile only had you to blame.
—————————— 
There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.
That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper. 
The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.
“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.
I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.
I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.
Yours,
-D.D.”
You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.
The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.
If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.
Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.
Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.
But fuck it. 
You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.
And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes. 
It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.
You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.
You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.
And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.
But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.
In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.
And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.
But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long. 
Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.
The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.
You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes. 
It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.
And you didn’t want to see this anymore. 
Not right now.
You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.
Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.
You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.
It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.
You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.
And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.
She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.
You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.
And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.
You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.
You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.
“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.
The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.
Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”
And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.
But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?
“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.
One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.
But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.
“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.
“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”
“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.
“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.
“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice. 
Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.
Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it. 
It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.
“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.
“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.
“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“
It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.
You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.
Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.
That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.
He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.
Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here. 
You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.
And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.
Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.
“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight. 
“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so. 
“And neither do you.”
Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite. 
Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.
Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.
He must do it on purpose.
“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.
“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.
And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.
Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.
Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.
But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.
“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer. 
And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.
But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.
“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”
Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion. 
Like yanking a weed out of a garden.
At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been. 
And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him. 
His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.
And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.
His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.
But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.
“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.
And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.
He noticed your bit of awe too.
That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.
“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”
And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.
“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.
He was pulling you now.
“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment
Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.
And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.
That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name. 
You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.
“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning? Did the news coos come?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?
But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.
“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”
His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.
You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.
And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it. 
You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.
Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.
And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space. 
He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row. 
Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.
Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.
“Come here.”
He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.
And you had to trek across this  “closet” just to reach him.
But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you. 
Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.
Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.
“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.
Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.
Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.
It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.
“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.
As usual.
But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.
“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.
His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders. 
You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.
But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.
Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him. 
Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.
“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”
Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.
He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.
“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.
“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”
“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.
And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.
“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”
Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began. 
In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.
And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.
So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.
A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.
“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.
“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.
He was actually preening you.
“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”
Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.
You needed to focus.
This was no game anymore.
“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.
Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.
“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.
“No.” You told the truth again.
The warlord scowled a bit.
“Well, I always talked to him about you.”
And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.
His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”
That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.
His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist. 
“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”
“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.
And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.
“You were there that night too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.
“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.
He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.
And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.
It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.
“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.
The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.
And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.
So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.
A sickening sound.
“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”
But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.
“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.
He thought he was the only victim here.
He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.
You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.
His teeth were bared again.
“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.
“Give it back to me.”
You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.
“Bear me my new Corazon.” 
———————————
    T⨂  BE 
CONTINUED
———————————
Thanks for reading!
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Nights of Endless Love Part 26
A fic set in Vegas in 1971 at the start of Elvis' first residency that year, where he meets a Vegas showgirl who isn't interested. Smutty, fluffy, angsty drama.
To catch up with the other parts, go here. As always, thanks go to @vintagepresley for the idea in the first place and continued inspo! And many thanks to @eapep for her editing skills!
18 and over only.
Pairing: Elvis + OC - Mia, a Vegas showgirl
Wordcount: 3.3K ish
TW: Drug abuse, health issues, angry!Elvis, a little bit of violence, crying, oral (f receiving), then much fluff.
A/N: This is the final part! I fully sobbed when I finished writing this. It's been a real labour of love and I will miss Mia and Elvis and their little world. Not to say that we might not go back and see how they're doing from time to time, but for now this is the end of their story.
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“I’m so tired. Elvis this schedule is impossible.” Mia collapses down onto the sofa, still in her stage outfit. They’re more than half way through the stint in Tahoe, and she only has a two hour break before she’s due back on stage again. Things have got worse since she started going on with him to do a song or two in the middle of his set. 
“It’s not impossible. You just need one of these shots,” he looks over to Dr Nick. “Nick, give her a shot.”
Dr Nick moves warily over to Mia. She pulls a face and puts her hand out to stop him. “Dr Nick do not give her a shot. She has autonomy over her own body.”
Elvis is standing over the other side of the room, still in his jumpsuit, sodden with sweat. One of his legs is jiggling about and he's fiddling incessantly with one of his big rings. Two of the tell-tale signs that Nick had been in here giving him a shot before the second show. As if she didn’t know already.
“Well don’t blame me if you can’t hack it.”
Mia stands up, annoyed now. “If I can’t hack it? You’re the one taking enough pharmaceuticals to floor an elephant.”
Dr Nick moves from foot to foot awkwardly. Mia wasn’t often in the room when he was treating Elvis, but he’d already got the impression she wasn’t keen on all of the drugs. He isn’t keen on all of the drugs either, but Elvis will only find someone else if he stops prescribing. He’s never seen them fight before, and he would like to get out before it turns nasty. He knows Elvis has a temper.
Elvis starts moving towards her in that ominous way he has, his lip curling, blowing furious air out of his nose. “I need them. This is none of your damn business woman.”
“None of my business! I’m only living with you and engaged to marry you!”
“Well maybe you need to learn to do as you’re told.” He grabs one of her arms and starts trying to manoeuvre her towards Nick, who is looking quite alarmed by this point. Mia wriggles and tries to get him off her. She sees his other hand coming to grab her and aims a kick at one of his shins. “Ow!” He almost shrieks. She uses the opportunity to pull her arm free and then slaps him across the face for good measure.
“You are not the boss of me!” She screams.
“You come back here,” he hisses as she stands, panting in front of him. 
She thinks that she hasn’t actually gone anywhere and he could grab her from here if he really wanted to.
“I’m not having a damn shot, Elvis. I’m sick of seeing you take all this stuff. I’m sick of waking up in the night and checking if you’re still breathing. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time. I want you to rest,” she finds herself faltering, holding back tears. “I love you.”
He closes the gap between them, and for a moment she can’t tell if he’s going to kiss her or hit her. He pushes her the few steps back it takes to hit the wall, and then his mouth is on hers, his tongue pushing insistently into her mouth, his hands grabbing her arms and pressing them against the wall next to her head. Somewhere that sounds like a million miles away she hears the clunk of the door. Nick must’ve finally had enough.
“Baby I love you too,” he says, when he finally comes up for air. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
He starts slowly unzipping her catsuit, kissing her newly exposed skin as he goes. He stops briefly to pay her nipples some attention, but it’s clear where he’s headed, as he presses kisses to her stomach and slides the zipper down all of the way to where it finishes between her legs. She gasps when he first licks her clit, firmly and repeatedly, looking down to see him on his knees in front of her, worshipfully. His tongue dips down lower, tasting her properly, his lips and chin slick with her juices. She whines, desperate for more contact.
“Put your leg on my shoulder baby,” he says, the words buzzing against her.
She does, feeling his fingers spreading her cunt so he can better access it, lapping at her, pushing his tongue inside. His thumb moves to rub her clit as he carries on licking, the fingers of his other hand digging into the skin of her thigh and ass. She moans, grabbing her breasts and rubbing her nipples. She’s so turned on even just at the sight of him kneeling in front of her like this, burying his face in her cunt, licking and sucking like his life depends on it.
He moves to suck on her clit now, looking up at her as he does it, his hair soaked with sweat from the show earlier and her arousal all over his face. He slides a finger inside her and curls it slightly, waiting to hear her reaction. She groans, feeling him hit that spot inside of her and wriggling to try and get more contact from his tongue.
“Hold my head Mimi. Do whatever you want with me.”
She shivers at the words. She loves it when he tells her to use him like this. 
“Another finger…please,” she just about manages.
He nods and slips a second finger inside her.
She reaches down and takes hold of his head, fingers digging into his damp hair. She starts to roll her hips so that her clit rubs against his tongue, holding onto him gently and then as the pleasure starts to build she finds herself gripping him desperately, pushing her cunt into his face, not really caring anymore if he can breathe. She’s so close now, all she can think of is reaching that high. As her orgasm washes over her she grips his head even more tightly, crying out and feeling tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes and cries, finally letting him go and sliding down the wall, somehow getting her leg off his shoulder and ending up sitting in a little pile at the bottom of it.
“Fuck, honey.” Elvis is beet red, and he’s taking great gasping breaths.
She looks over at him, and realises she might’ve actually been suffocating him. “Oh shit. Are you alright?”
“Honey. You’re crying.” 
Mia laughs, even though she’s still crying. “I’m crying, you’re nearly suffocated, this is all going great.”
He moves to try and kiss her and she holds her hands up in front of her face. “Ahh. Wash your face!”
He laughs and grabs her arms, pinning them to her sides. “No,” he replies, kissing her on the mouth. She can feel the slickness of his lips, covered in her juices, and taste herself on his tongue. “If you’re going to smother me the least you can do is kiss me afterwards.”
She laughs, and then he pulls her into his arms, leaning against the wall himself. “Baby why were you crying? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I just felt overwhelmed. I love you so much and I really want this to work, but it’s just fucking exhausting. I’m sorry I nearly killed you.”
He chuckles into her ear. “It’s okay, I asked for it. In more ways than one. And I love it when you’re so uninhibited like that, especially all over my face.”
She squeals. It smells like sex and sweat all around her. They really need to shower before the next show.
He nuzzles her neck. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have got mad at you. You’re right, we can’t carry on like this. But I don’t know what else to do.”
***
They somehow finish the Tahoe commitment but tell Jerry and the Colonel that there’s no way they can keep up that level of work. It was what they’d suspected would happen, and although the Colonel has his views on how many shows Elvis and Mia should do, for once he keeps his mouth shut. Jerry has been a good influence on him from that perspective. He’s learning how to diversify, has even thought of taking on one or two more clients. Jerry suggests one show a night is more reasonable, tours could be longer but there would be more gaps between dates and fewer residencies. Mia and Elvis both agree, and leave the meeting somewhat relieved. 
Mia knows the amount of shows isn’t the only problem though, and so she decides to broach something with Elvis as she watches him rubbing his belly and grimacing.
“What do you think about checking yourself into a hospital?”
Elvis almost jumps. “What? There’s nothing wrong with me!”
Mia puts her hand on top of his. “You’re not in any pain just now?”
He sighs. “Okay, but… hospital?”
“Please. For me. I’ll stay in there with you. We can order in whatever food you want. But I think you need to go and get checked out, and… maybe you need to come off some of what you’ve been taking.” 
She’s very nervous about the last part of the sentence. He’s never taken interference in the drugs he takes very well in the past. She had thought she wouldn’t interfere in that part of his life, but the shows at Tahoe showed her that she had to. She watches his face twist into a variety of different expressions, as if he’s having a not-very-internal battle with himself. 
“You’ll stay with me the whole time? Even if they want to do things to me? Look for stuff? You’ll be there? You promise?” He’s starting to sound a little panicked, but it seems like the agreeable Elvis has won this time. 
“Yes. I won’t let them throw me out of the room. I’ll be there with you the whole time I promise.”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay then.”
***
Mia keeps her word. They check into the hospital together and she’s there holding his hand as they do blood tests, check his blood pressure, put drops in his eyes. When they tell him he needs a colonoscopy he looks at her and she tells him it will be okay and she will hold his hands and talk to him the whole time. He nods like a frightened child but does whatever she says. They slowly take him off the complicated mixture of pharmaceuticals he’s been taking since he was in the army, working out exactly what he needs rather than what he wants. Mia stays up a lot of the nights, lying in the bed with him, stroking his hair and wiping his brow as he sweats and twists and turns uncomfortably in his sleep. With the best will in the world, his withdrawal is still horrible and he begs her to let him take something for it, crying in her arms. 
A week after they first got there, he’s sat up in bed as she lays dozing after another tumultuous night. 
“Hi there.” A voice Mia can’t quite place, deep and sonorous. She tries to ignore it, but Elvis’ response makes that impossible.
“Lawrence! It’s been so long!” 
Elvis is feeling good for the first time since he checked into the hospital, and seeing Larry has made him genuinely excited, dropping the book he was reading and sitting up properly in bed. All of this jostles Mia so much she sits up again with a groan. 
“How’re you doing, man?” Larry asks, sitting down on the armchair in the room. 
“Great. So much better. They’ve taken me off a lot of things and… I do feel good for a change, Larry. They’re bringing me all these fresh fruits and vegetables and Mia is helping me decide which ones I like.”
He looks over at Mia, whose hair is absolutely everywhere, eyes barely open, looking like she needs to sleep for a week. He strokes her face. “Baby, why don’t you go to the room across the hall and get some proper sleep?”
The hospital staff had reserved them another room in case Mia wanted to sleep somewhere separately sometimes, but she hasn’t left his side for the whole week. 
“You sure?” She replies, groggily. 
“Of course, Angel. Larry can keep me company for a while and you look like you need to sleep somewhere comfy.”
She nods and shuffles off across the corridor. 
“I hear you’re getting married?”
Elvis grins. “Yeah. When the divorce is finalised with Cilla, we certainly are.”
“I’m so pleased for you Elvis. Things really seem to be turning out well lately.”
Elvis is beaming. Things were turning out well. He has an idea to make them even better. “Say, you wanna be my best man?”
Larry is taken aback. They hadn’t been in touch much recently, a hair cut here and there and a few chats, but nothing like the intensity of their relationship previously. He’d been wondering if they were just drifting apart. 
“I’d be honoured!”
Elvis reaches across to shake the other man’s hand, firmly. “Wonderful. I’m sure Mia will be pleased too.”
***
Mia had never thought she’d be so nervous on her wedding day. What is there to be nervous about? Fluffing up the words? Tripping over her dress and falling on her face? Actually, both of those seem like pretty bad options. She smooths her dress down and looks at herself in the mirror. Life on the road hasn’t exactly stopped the ageing process. If anything, it’s accelerated it. She had her grey hairs dyed back to brown in readiness for today, there’s a lot of strong elastic holding her not-so-little belly in and a face full of make-up hides her tired eyes and wrinkles. But she finds somehow that she doesn’t mind so much any more. Elvis’ hair is still white and he is completely unapologetic about it. He gets his reading glasses out when he needs to and he ignores the jibes from the guys. They worship one another’s bodies, no matter whether they find wrinkles or extra fat there. Elvis is particularly delighted by the fact that she’s put on a little extra weight on her ass, kissing and kneading it at every opportunity. Every morning he tells her how beautiful she is, or sings Mia In The Morning, no matter how many times she hits him with a pillow and tells him to shut up. The tests at the hospital showed that he has a problem with his intestine that makes his belly swell from time to time, and Mia makes sure to show him how much she loves him whenever it happens. He’s given up trying to push her away when she pushes his shirt up and kisses him all over. In fact, he almost looks forward to it.
Mia smiles at her reflection. It had been one helluva year. When she’d started 1971, performing on that stage in the Tropicana, she had no idea things would turn out like this. That she’d be getting ready to marry one of the most famous men in the world. That she’d be so in love with him.
“You ready?” Amanda asks. Mia had to spend an entire drunken day catching her up on everything that had happened over the past couple of months, but she was the only person she wanted as her maid of honour. 
“As I’ll ever be.”
Her dad walks into the room, blinking back tears at how beautiful she looks in her dress. 
“Time to go, pumpkin?”
Mia nods and takes his arm. Elvis had encouraged her to get back in contact with her parents, so she’d invited them to the show when they visited her hometown. She was surprised when they came, and even more surprised how proud they were of her. She suspects it has something to do with Elvis, who put on the world’s biggest charm-offensive when he met them, and who of course they loved instantly. Her dad was over the moon when she asked him to give her away at the wedding. 
She can feel herself shaking as they walk slowly down the aisle to meet the man standing at the end of it. Elvis is shaking too, he’s asked Larry approximately 15 times already whether he still has the rings, and until he saw her for himself a few moments ago, he had completely convinced himself that Mia wasn’t coming. The walk is interminable for both of them, Elvis sweating and worrying about stuttering his vows and Mia concentrating on not falling over her own dress. When she finally gets there and they turn to face one another, holding each other’s hands tightly, they both let out shaky breaths. And then they realise what they’ve done and both giggle. It’s like the rest of the world completely disappears when they look at one another. Until, that is, the celebrant starts to speak. 
“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Elvis and Mia, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”
Despite their fears, the ceremony goes smoothly. Larry hands over the rings. No-one declares a reason they can’t get married, and neither of them mess up their vows. Elvis stutters a little but it just makes Mia love him more, if that were possible. They kiss passionately when they’re told they’re now man and wife, and little Lisa-Marie is the first person to start throwing confetti. Mia briefly wonders if it’s odd to have your husband’s ex-wife as one of your bridesmaids, but then decides she doesn’t care. Priscilla is still such a good friend to her, she’d even helped to pick out Mia’s dress. 
The party that follows goes on well into the night. It starts with a first dance to actual Jackie Wilson performing (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher, and sometime around midnight Mia finds herself still in her wedding dress, trying to teach Red West how to rumba. 
“Never thought you’d last, you know.” He says into her ear as she tries in vain to get him to stop standing on her feet. 
“Oh really?” She laughs back, pushing his hip with hers. 
“No. Thought he’d have enough of you being so bossy.”
“You should be concentrating or you won’t get any better.”
Red looks up at her. “I’m not really trying to get better, I’m enjoying you manhandling me if I’m honest.”
Mia bursts out laughing, shoving him back and away from her. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”
“You’ll tell your husband he said, what?” 
Elvis is suddenly behind her, his arms around her waist. She leans back against him and smirks. “Red West is trying to get close to me, husband.”
“Oh, is that so, wife?”
“Hmm yes. But I wouldn’t worry about him, I’m not interested.” She spins around in his arms and puts hers around his neck. “I just feel sorry for him.”
Elvis looks up at her and chuckles, humming with pleasure as she leans her forehead down against his. “He is pathetic, you’re right.”
Red rolls his eyes and huffs, wandering off to find someone else to annoy. 
“How is my beautiful wife?” Elvis asks her as they sway back and forth to the music. 
“I’ve never been better. How is my handsome husband?”
“I’ve never been happier. Today has been perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I can’t wait either, lover.”
The band starts playing From A Jack To A King.
From a Jack to a King / From loneliness to a wedding ring / I played an Ace and I won a Queen / And walked away with your heart
***
Taglist:
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:
@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog
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cheynovak · 15 hours
Text
Preview
-> New Soldier Boy series
Set in the late 70s early 80s.
Soldier boy x F/reader Y/N aka his PA
This scene is set further on in the series
⚠️ Serie will contain: Spice, Smut, Cheating, Age gap, Drug and alcohol use, Dominance, Threesome, Herogasmn, basically basic soldier boy behaviour⚠️
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Ben lay on his back, one arm draped lazily behind his head, the other resting on Y/N’s waist. She lay beside him, tracing absentminded shapes on his chest, her fingers gliding over the firm muscle. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their breathing and the occasional crackle of the city outside. It should have felt peaceful, but tonight something was different.
Y/N sighed softly, her hand stilling against his skin. “We can’t keep doing this,” she whispered, her voice heavy with the weight of her words.
Ben’s eyes flickered down to her, his jaw tightening. "Why not?" His voice was low, a little rough around the edges, as if the very idea irritated him.
She shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to look up at him. “Because,” she said softly, “what if I fall in love?”
For a moment, Ben said nothing. His face hardened, and his body tensed beneath her, the easygoing charm he usually carried vanishing in an instant. “Are you falling for me?” he asked sharply.
Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “No, but—”
“Then don’t,” he snapped, cutting her off. His tone was sharp, dismissive, like he could simply will the possibility away.
Y/N bit her lip, feeling frustration and something deeper rising within her. “And what if I fall for someone else? Someone who might actually want more than just... this?”
Ben’s expression darkened, his green eyes narrowing. “Again. Don’t.”
The room felt colder now, the intimacy they'd shared moments ago evaporating in the space between them. Y/N stared at him, disbelief and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re so selfish, Ben.”
His brow furrowed, confusion and irritation mingling. “Selfish? I give you everything, don’t I?”
“Everything you want,” she corrected, pushing herself up to sit beside him. “But I can’t have what I want. You get to have me whenever you feel like it, but the second I want something real, you shut it down.”
Ben scowled, sitting up slightly, his chest brushing against her. "What's so bad about what we have? You get the perks, I get—"
She shook her head, cutting him off. “You get control. You get to keep me at arm's length while you live your life without consequences. But I can’t do that, Ben. I can’t just keep being your... your mistress forever.”
His jaw clenched, and he reached out, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly. “You’re mine, Y/N. That’s not changing.”
Y/N stared down at him, her heart aching. He was everything—charming, powerful, dangerous—and yet, he was so emotionally unreachable. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” she whispered. “You want to own me, but you won’t let me have you. Not really.”
Ben’s hand loosened, and for the first time, he looked at her with something that resembled vulnerability, though it was fleeting. “I don’t want you to leave,” he admitted, voice softer but still laced with possessiveness.
Y/N sighed, her heart torn between the man she cared for and the man who would never truly let her in. “I haven’t... yet,” she said, pulling her wrist from his grip and lying back down beside him. She rested her head against his chest once more, but this time, the warmth between them felt hollow.
Ben didn’t say anything. He just wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, as if that alone could keep her from slipping away. But in the quiet of the night, both of them knew the truth: something had already changed.
--
Taglist:
@kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27
@yvonneeeee @call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78
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velvetvexations · 2 days
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Even putting aside what a ridiculous comparison that is, I need it understood that the primary way transradfems engage with "material reality" is through movies from the previous century.
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It's hypervisibility vs. invisibility. Trans women were openly mocked and trans men were ignored or just subsumed into a range of experiences for cis women. That's changing now that trans men are getting more spotlight than they had before, although it's still tilted in those directions.
But there was genuinely nothing transphobic about Chihiro's story and to say there was you have to prove his model was trans women and transitioning children when there is an extremely well-established category of AMAB people who present as girls in Japanese culture that is infinitely more talked about in pop culture over there. You have to insist upon the fact that he was ever connected to people who sincerely identify as girls in the first place. If this was America, it'd make more sense, but it is actually just genuinely racist to be told all that and still be like "well, but it makes me think of trans women."
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This is why transradfems hate me, too. A trans woman disagreeing with them breaks their rules.
Especially the person who cannot stop fucking bypassing my block to screenshot my blog and then justifying it by claiming I do it, even though I fucking deleted those posts after she complained and have not mentioned her a single time since unless she did first.
Here's the thing: I DON'T THINK NOT WANTING TO ASSOCIATE WITH AGAB LANGUAGE IS UNREASONABLE AT ALL! But it's fucking projecting as fuck to say that people who don't like TMA/TME language must simply want to cling to AGAB. I mean, holy fuck, right? That's not what's being argued dumbass - but she can't think of any other way to divide trans people based on AGAB without referencing it in some way, so her ideal replacement is TMA/TME, that's the two kinds of trans people that exist, you're not AMAB or AFAB you're TMA or TME, this is so fucking masks off it's wild that other transradfems aren't mortified by her saying the quiet part out loud. This should just completely obliterate every trace of protest when someone points out TME is in practice exclusively used to refer to AFAB trans people and no one else ever, unless what she's actually saying is that AFAB trans people are so close to cis women that they might as well just by default be called the same thing and have no other way of identifying themselves when you talk about categories of trans people and their experiences.
But it's so intensely psychologically revealing. I don't think she's ever been misgendered a single time in her life. I don't think she's ever had even the slightest actual barrier to hop in her quest to live as a woman, because this oversensitivity where someone acknowledging transphobes see us as our assigned sex counts as them misgendering you? That's just not the behavior of someone who actually deals with these things in the real world. Or even online. Again, I get pedojacketed and threatened with actual cancelation from my actual career because I engage with actual TERFs. These people never do anything but moan about tee-em-ees misgendering them by discussing how the enemy perceives us. And she in particular is the most desperate to shut that out, because that is the only reminder there could ever possibly be a hypothetical obstacle to her claiming her girl card. I have zero doubt she lives in the queerest city on the planet and if she didn't have internet she would literally be unable to even conceive of transphobia as a concept. And she fucking hates me for not just being a trans woman who agrees with the transandrobros, but also personally identifies with my AGAB. The implication that it's possible for a trans woman to be okay with the term "male" shatters her self-esteem. That is the extent of "misgendering" she has ever faced and ever will face. Me identifying the way I do terrifies her, I have to be objectively wrong about claiming identification with my AGAB because she copes with insecurity by imagining a world where TERFs are right but instead of biology everyone's soul is either Male and Female and you can only be one or the other. Gender can't just be people figuring out who they are and the ways they want to express themselves and live their lives, that's not real enough for her, she has to be Trve Fymyle the way TERFs go on about, except instead of centering around wombs it's this weird vaguely spiritual concept that she forces everyone else to fit into because if they don't it implies her framework isn't the tangible reality she so desperately needs to feel valid.
And that's why she "needs" TMA/TME, because she reasonably wants to talk about the experiences of people who share her category but doesn't want to identify as anything that references what those experiences fucking are (e.g. having been assigned male at birth). And again, that's FINE. I GET THAT. THAT'S UNDERSTANDABLE. I CAN SEE HOW THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. But that doesn't mean TMA/TME doesn't also have issues and I'm sorry if she's having a hard time coming up with something else because it's difficult to navigate the inherent paradox of wanting to associate with something that unfortunately makes her feel bad to associate with it, but she needs to pick something else, and not say "weh the TMEs are making us change our language" as though (a) transradfems aren't telling trans men what language they can use for themselves and (b) it's impossible to come up with terms that don't explicitly make claims about the experiences of others and 100% defines them by suffering less.
And isn't it strange how other transradfems are insisting they have to call themselves CAMAB and CAFAB, but THEY aren't clinging to AGAB language? Weird, right? I mean there is a group of people insistently arguing that it is simply paramount that we use AGAB language, but they're perisex trans women stealing it from intersex people so I guess it's fine?
But I don't CARE. I don't like her and I don't want to look at her stupid blog and I sure as fuck don't want to report on it. I just wish she'd stop talking about me. I literally just want her to stop block evading me and telling people my identity revolves around wanting to suck up to TERFs*. I do not talk about her except when she talks about me. AND I'M STILL NOT EVEN NAMING HER.
When she complained about me screenshotting her posts, I deleted them. They got zero notes. Her screenshots of me have hundreds and she keeps taking them because she's fucking obsessed because she can't feel like a girl if someone else identifies a little differently than she does. I don't even screenshot other people if they have me blocked but I see other people debating their takes, I make a post that references no one with unspecified prompting. And I've never done even done that with her, not only because she keeps baselessly accusing me of harassment, but because she infuriates me on a level where I just sincerely do not like seeing her fucking content in any way for any reason.
God I fucking hate radfems.
*which she happily admits to knowing is a lie but is like "yeah well I say she's mean so I'm going to keep deliberately fabricating falsehoods about her"
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Thank you. <3
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I have enlightened another soul!
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If you asked these people, ten times out of ten they would say detransition and rape are the worst things that can possibly happen to someone and murder is no comparison, but they'll see trans men talking about their sexual abuse to be like "wow so lucky you guys just have to LARP The Handmaid's Tale, but we get KILLED."
And it's like. Okay. But fuck off, though? It's fine to personally see murder as worse and to grieve more over that, ig, it's like, whatever, but to openly state that it's a PRIVILEGE to be raped and detransitioned makes my brain melt. It's like they are physically incapable of not putting down other trans people. It is the one single area of activism they engage in. That is the war they are waging. They don't give a fuck about trans rights because they live in privileged areas with supportive families. Their battle is with the TME trans people on social media.
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lolllll
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"I hate how misogynistic Velvet is, she's everyone's cumrag"
^actual thing actually said and believed by the TMA/TME tankies
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Before anyone accuses this anon of saying transradfems are engaging in male behavior or whatever, I'll note as I always have that they're just as sexually predatory and entitled to the bodies of others as TERFs are. That is the actual comparison being made. The worst trans women are identical to the worst cis women. Diversity win.
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kradeelav · 1 day
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Hello! I want to learn how to draw content on the more spicy side, but I'm unsure where to start. Do you have any tips/resources for it? I would love to make Corrin/Gunter art and some of my other favorite pairings. Thank you in advance!
on the practical/technical side:
having a solid understanding of anatomy helps, of course - the basic bone structure of course, but how skin, fat, muscle hangs as well. you don't actually need to watch live-action porn to get references (i never have believe it or not), but i do follow a few historical kink/bear magazine archivists online. personally i find that there's more of a variety of beautiful shapes and humans in those old photos, and you generally know it's consensual since they've personally submitted them.
you also can't go wrong with reading other erotic comics ... i say comics vs illustrations since you start to see the pacing of these scenes like any other human interaction and the tools the artists use. when does intimacy turn into foreplay? when does the artist/mangaka zoom in to capture the sensation of the moment? what clever tricks do the artists to capture the climax when the bodies are all pressed together and when finding a good camera angle is tricky? how do they show the heightened feeling with symbols and textures? how is kink power dynamics shown with characters in different positions? do you show faces and the expressions to show the pleasure or not? what comics feel cold and manufactured to you versus ones that capture real eros? why? etc.
on the mental side:
if you're anything like me, you might have a lot of shame to untangle when it comes to harder varieties of erotic art. (i hope not! not everyone does. but it's unfortunately common given the societies we live in.)
it's going to take a while, and it's going to feel really weird at times when you draw something that's uncomfortably intimate or taboo, but that's when you know it's working and you gotta keep pushing through.
you gotta keep drawing.
privately, i have a personal rule that i'll draw anything at least once; if i feel afterwards that it turned out to be a personal squick, i won't go there again, but that guideline has been marvelous to start breaking through the manufactured idea of disgust and also just to experiment with putting myself in other people's shoes about what they find hot. sometimes it's surprising! i've learned a lot.
lastly, on that note - draw what you find deeply intimate. forget about other people. selfshipping? the most niche kinks possible? the kink that feels like the internet can't stand? who gives a shit about them (no taste, the lot of them).
draw the human. the tenderness, the visceral, that overpowering desire for you that almost scares you with how intense it is and that sends your brain alight.
that's going to be timeless.
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So, I saw this gorgeous art by @shleyla and it got me thinking, yeah, they're right the sword of Gryffindor was in the lake and Snape acted as a sort of Lady of the Lake, leading Harry to the sword in a frozen lake. Except Ron got the sword, not Harry. So, is Ron the king of England, confirmed? ("Weasley is our king" after all, and Ron's dad is named Arthur). I'm mostly joking about Ron being the king of England.
But all this made me think about the goblin legends about the sword of Gryffindor and whether it's possible the sword of Gryffindor actually is Excalibur of the HP universe. Griphock states the sword wasn't forged for Gryffindor but that it predates him and was used by a Gobling king:
“I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!” “The sword’s ours—” “it is not,” said the goblin. “We’re Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor’s—” “And before it was Gryffindor’s, whose was it?” demanded the goblin, sitting up straight. “No one’s,” said Ron. “It was made for him, wasn’t it?” “No!” cried the goblin, bristling with anger as he pointed a long finger at Ron. “Wizarding arrogance again! That sword was Ragnuk the First’s, taken from him by Godric Gryffindor! It is a lost treasure, a masterpiece of goblinwork! It belongs with the goblins. The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!”
(DH, 432)
But why would a goblin king forge himself a sword made for human proportions? And if Excalibur exists in the HP universe, it stands to reason it would be a magical, goblins-forged blade?
So, what if the sword actually belonged to the HP universe version of King Arthur, and that either the goblins took it back upon his death, or it passed to a descendant (Godric Gryffindor as a descendant of King Arthur is a weird idea, I know, but I'm thinking it).
(All this also made me want to draw Ron as King Arthur, Hermione as Guinevere, and Harry as Merlin... or something like that... maybe I'll do it)
Now, the timeline for all of this is a little murky. Because the founders founded Hogwarts around 990, Merlin supposedly studied in Slytherin House, so he was eleven after the founding. The thing is, the Arthurian legends place King Arthur and Merlin as being alive much earlier, with most historians placing Arthur around 460-560.
So, my headcanon is that Merlin predates Hogwarts and the founders, and the legends of Merlin studying at Hogwarts are just that — legends.
The Order of Merlin, commemorating the most famous wizard of his time, has been given since the fifteenth century. Legend says that the green ribbon, on which the First Class Order hangs, is to reflect Merlin’s Hogwarts house.
(from Pottermore)
It is outright stated Merlin's Hogwarts house is a legend. I think it's a legend everyone believes to be true, but might not actually be true. I couldn't find a source that really stated Merlin was a Hogwarts student 100% which would be historically reliable. It's pretty much the same as in real history. When you try to read about the early medieval era irl you need to sift through a lot of bullshit and inaccurate statements and translations, it's likely the wizarding world is the same.
Also, while researching this, I found there is a stained glass window in Hogwarts that portrays him as an old man with a long beard (at least in Hogwarts Legacy). Windows are usually constructed with the building, so it is possible to take it as evidence Merlin and legends of him existed before Hogwarts was founded. And, there's a legend Hogwarts was founded where the founders discovered a pensive:
One (unsubstantiated) legend says that the founders discovered the Pensieve half-buried in the ground on the very spot where they decided to erect their school.
(From Pottermore)
So what if Merlin was where Hogwarts is, and made the pensive the founders discovered that we see Dumbledore using. If he really predated Hogwarts but has spent time in the are and history got mixed up with legends as history often does. And then, the sword of Gryffindor could actually be The Excalibur.
This is like, a silly part theory/part headcanon, but it was fun for me to think about.
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nalyra-dreaming · 2 days
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i'm a bit afraid to ask because it's a bit of a dumb question made from things I have read here and there.
I'm a show only but you know someone has translated the great laws and one part is to not make ''african'' vampires and if remember reading correctly somewhere else Marius is really into making vampires from pretty,white, athletic humans?
Do you think the fact that Lestat made 2 black vampires will have an impact on his relationship with Marius ?
What do you think will be Louis and Marius relationship?
Do they even interract together in the books?
(There's no dumb questions 🥰)
So... the only post about the vampiric laws being translated that I know of (!) is this one:
The law you refer to is this one, number 82:
Lamia in alias formas inc..sa europaea mutare poterit sed numquam in …rundom africanum vertere poteris. A vampire in other forms … European … will be able to change but never in … African … will be able to turn.***
Now, I would like to point out, that these laws are show only. The books only ever name the first (big) five.
I think that is important to keep in mind.
Also, the laws of the Children of Darkness are not the ones of Marius or other vampires. The Children of Darkness are a satanic (christian) cult who think they need to serve god as the embodiment of demons. They attack Marius for his more "freer" way of living(!) and kidnap Armand... and break him.
And brainwash him, for centuries.
So. While that statement certainly seems to imply... it actually does not make much sense to me within the grander scheme, because Akasha and Enkil ruled out of Egypt, and the first blood drinkers are very much and firmly rooted in the African continent.
The fact that Marius made Armand also contradicts the (intention of the) rule and his stance on the matter, imho.
Looking at some of the other rules, it becomes clear though that the cult really was into controlling in a very specific manner: Rule 65+ are about all kinds of pleasure being forbidden. Rule 52: A vampire will not know joy.
... yeah. Armand had a really fun time with them until Lestat came along -.-
So. As a reminder, these laws are NOT the ones Marius or even the majority of the covens live by. They are the ones certain covens lived by, and which these covens tried to enforce.
Typical religious cult behavior. -.-
That said, the show adding these rules is no coincidence, of course. And especially that rule no. 82. Though, again, it does not make much sense to me, not even within the universe or show context, because what makes the vampires "white" (book canonically) over the millennia is not their skin color but the mutation of their cells into plastic. But that just as a note.
And, given the coven in Paris contained black and POC vampires...???
Armand at least in the theater times did not believe those laws anymore either.
The show might have added that rule though to show some do.
That will remain to be seen - and it would then be the equivalent of very real mind sets, unfortunately. -.-
But, as said, it doesn't make much sense in the universe, outside their intention to draw certain parallels.
---
So no, given who created these laws and what they do (not) mean for Marius, I do not think Lestat will have any problems having created two black vampires.
They weren't even the only black vampires created after all, nor far from the "first".
As per Louis and Marius... They share rooms sometimes, and both Louis and Marius are present for big events. But they... don't really engage much.
And I don't really expect this to be much different here as well.
Because I think Louis very much (also) blamed Marius for abandoning Armand to the cult ... and what happened then, as a result of it, at least low-key. It is never said, but... there is a certain chain of events, which does have repercussions after all.
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manzaza · 2 days
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perirep with airpods promoting mY WHOLE REVIEW OF THE NEW WISH SOUNDTRACK BECAUSE OHHHHH MY GOD IT GOES SO SO SO HARD (under cut feel free to listen here (also on apple music + yt do in fact give it a listen please yay) !!)
theme song (all the singing songs)
— although i can never truly let go of the og the new theme song will always be a bop
— so upbeat, so happy !!!
new yorkity york
— hazel’s va is such an amazing singer PLEASE if there’s a season 2 give them a musical episode there are not enough musicl numbers
party possum’s friendship song
— better than the chuck e cheese one i heard in the theater earlier lollllllll
— the live band version ate i liked the difference
— unhinged version was so fun the nickelodeon drummer ate up
lovely love song
— still haven’t watched this episode (i was shopping when it aired oops)
— hazel was so silly idk what happens i just remember cupid being there (idk if he was in this at the end that might’ve been hazel’s dad)
i love fries
— HAZEL’S VA SLAYING AGAIN !!!!!
— banger song so real live laugh love fries
— cosmo + wanda contributed yay let them sing
time loops
— addiction,,,,, brainrot even,,,,,,,,,
— cosmo and wanda singing yayyy !!!
— the actual little yay at the end was so silly got a good chuckle
proud of my son — dubstep remix
— this was actually the funniest thing to watch i had this episode pulled up in a panera’s and i was just staring at it like “bro just took over the world for THIS”
— dev is ten so it does make sense
— almost
a new wish (yay background music !!)
— i love all the jazz in the ost just soooo so good
— reminds me of a sam and max kinda intro
— listening to this + the rest just makes me want a video game for ANW so so bad it would genuinely be so much fun to play (will genuinely plot out a tumblr post for this idea)
fly hazel
— banger warmup vibes in the intro
— love how some of the insteuments give like a fly-feeling gimmick (cause she’s a fly)
— little intro chord at the very end eats up
teacher’s pal
— might be one of my fav tracks
— nickeloxeon pianist and saxophonist are eating uppp
— 1:15 was so good
— nickelodeon symphony when
fearless
— somewhat out of place but still fits in with the show vibes
— very lurking
— fnaf 3 am jumpscare (idk i see more poppy playtime in this despite never watching or knowing anything about poppy playtime
— very cheerful kinda scary at the end (yay jasmine!!!)
wellingston hotel
— i rlly like hotel music play this at a marriott hotel NOW
— still haven’t seen this episode (i’m dying to watch it i need to see winn’s introoooo)
— sudden rich person music change
— love you nickelodeon saxophonist !!!!
dev dimmadome
— classic dev intro
— 0:54 is so cruel just label this project h whyyyyyyyy
— just sheer pain in the middle but then they remebered at the end “oh yeah he’s ten”
— it gets so intense at 1:30 broooooo
fairy heist
— i love spy music
— little dev-ness in the middle with the certain gimmick in his track (i might be crazy for this one but idk the “waeahwow” reminded me of something from his track + i think this was in the breaking into school scene idk)
prime meridian love
— literal anime ost
— eats with the dramatic intro
— it faintly reminds me of an ok ko track but just slightly at the beginning of some of the melodies idk might be crazy for this one too
peri and irep
— no way.
— actually no way.
— ship interacts once and they get their own song.
— the twist at the beginning of the track was so hype like the beat is just constantly at odds during this song (and because i’m just like that i have the track times put down too when they swap)
— to not make this any longer the noticeable parts after their intros are like 0:50–1:02 is peri-sounding and then 1:03–1:18 is irep-sounding and from then on their themes are always at a clash with more differences spotted at the end
— will say i love irep’s part at 0:32 and 1:03 that’s so funnnn ahh
— the little villainous laugh at like 1:50 was silly
— the little theme at 3:00 ahhh !!!!!
— might be another fav……. yeah def another fav my airbuds says so
viozalea
— feels so medieval at first and i love it
— quick just like viozalea’s appearance (rip)
rattlleconda
— fire western theme
— still in character with the show the beat was firee
— the soft violin gahhh sheer joy
— intense pressure put on at the end ate
love and games
— rock paper scissors core
— me when rock paper scissors
— wait i actually never watched the valentines episode
— uhhhhhhh second half might be rock paper scissors
— BANGS
— love u Nickelodeon drummer
battle of wands (FINALE)
— shut up this is too glorious of a melody
— ok intense
— oh might’ve just hit one million wishes idk how this song is following the episode
— the chaos in the rhythm eats
— littlt theme at 2:30 aghhhh won
— peri lying dead right after again idk how the episode paces through songs i can spot little scenes here and there
— banged
— little clock beat ahh the happiness
— can’t even tell what happened but good finale
OVERALL i really enjoyed the soundtrack i love how it tries and takes you through the course of the episode and it’s so so fun!! almost feels like video game music sometimes which is so so good for them like YES drop a new wish video game it would be so good !!!!
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ceasarslegion · 1 day
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About trick or treating from that last post, even just fixing the helicopter parent epidemic doesnt solve the societal issue. When I was a kid, we were all set loose with out friends on Halloween night, going from house to house trying to max out our candy collection. Grabbing handfuls from the bowls left out that said "2 pieces each" and passing on to the other kids we ran into that 3 blocks down the houses were giving out full sized chocolate bars. Oftentimes we'd end up tromping around cemeteries and telling scary stories late into the night. My parents never believed all that shit about razor blades and drugs in sealed store bought candy (my dad once lamented "drugs are expensive, I wouldn't give them out to random kids, get your own!" about that particular conspiracy)
My sister is 11 and on the other hand, she's never really seen a real Halloween like that. Neighbourhood watch set curfews and required chaperones at all times, very few houses gave away candy at all because they assumed that kids would be difficult and didn't want to, her candy hauls were always disappointing for the amount of walking we'd do when I took her. And to top it all off, my parents told me that recently, their neighbourhood said that Halloween shouldn't be done at all because "the spooky imagery might trigger people with recent war trauma." Like, are you actually fucking shitting me?
And no, don't tell them to just buy her a pack of Halloween candy. When you're a kid, you don't remember how much candy you had as much as you remember the experience of going out at night past your bedtime with all your friends and going house to house. I don't remember how much candy I had, but I remember being really pissed off that my mom made me wear my winter coat over my Indiana Jones costume because it was so cold out and then taking it off when I was out of sight of the house, only to nearly freeze again and put it back on and stomp my feet about how mad i was that i had to wear a coat over my costume. Taking those experiences away from kids under the guise of "what if current war trauma" is so fucking shitty
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witchofsparkles · 16 hours
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Medusa Ghost & Siren Soap. This was the first Ghoap fic i wrote... It has mcd, so be warned. I still like this one, if you love a little sadness too. I'm posting the full fic, putting the ao3 link for you if you like to leave kudos or comments.
Ghost was walking down a hill with a blindfold, blood dripping from a cut on his temple and wetting the black cloth on his eyes. He was trained for situations like this, but the blunt force trauma he got on his head was taking the ground off under his feet. With a stagger, his leg buckled after his last step and he found himself lying on his back on the grass. His breathing was uneven and he most likely had other injuries he couldn't feel because of the adrenaline.
Ghost closed his eyes for a moment, as if his vision wasn't dark before. The next time he opened them, Ghost realized he wasn't on the ground anymore and he had a nice blanket on him. When he noticed he could see properly, Ghost slammed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hand, just to be sure.
Ghost's eyes could literally kill a human. Turn them into stone, into statues. Ghost took the blanket off with his one hand and found his way out touching the walls. He was in a cave, Ghost was sure. The sound of his footsteps were echoing inside and the walls were curvy. And he was alone in there, but knowing there was someone strong enough to carry him, Ghost couldn't take a chance to lie motionless. And he didn't want to turn whoever the helping hand was into stone before at least nod a thank you in their way.
It took Ghost some time to adjust his eyes to the sun but the gentle breeze made him feel better. Then he heard a hum. A song. Ghost felt his muscles tense. The tiny voice in his head that told him to stop was silenced in a second, and Ghost found himself walking towards the source of the humming. He wasn't exactly aware of anything happening, like his logic was prisoned behind bars made of emotions. Sadness. Lust. Submission.
When Ghost came to it again and his mind was let free, he was sitting across someone with forest green wings and the same color, shimmering fish-tail. A siren.
Ghost's eyes were wide open, he knew creatures were real, myths were true and he was a walking proof of it being a Medusa. But it was his first time seeing one. The rumors has it that the sirens would lure the poor men into the sea to drown and eat them, and not one of it told that the sirens were actually beautiful. Ghost was so taken aback that he didn't realize his eyes were uncovered.
"You might wanna close them quick cause I can't sit here like a statue so long with my eyes closed. No pun intended."
Ghost squeezed his eyes shut without thinking. The siren's voice was powerful even though he was only talking. It made Ghost do what he wanted, Ghost knew it was a dangerous thing.
"Stop talking. Answer briefly." Ghost spoke with poison. And the siren answered back just as sweetly. "Yes, sir."
"Why did you take me?"
"Injured."
"Name?"
"Soap."
Ghost scoffed. "Seriously?"
Ghost couldn't see it but he felt Soap rolling his eyes. "What's yours?"
"Ghost." Ghost cuss at himself for answering. He heard Soap returning the mock. "Seriously?"
Ghost didn't back down."Your real name."
"Would you tell your real name to some stranger?"
Ghost talked with certainty. "Simon Riley." Shit. Shit. Shit.
"I didn't expect that. John MacTavish."
Ghost didn't expect that either. His whole life, he answered back to his superiors. No second thoughts. Even if he did have them, he did the questioning part to himself in silence. And now it was ruining his life. "Tell this to anyone and I'm slitting your throat."
Ghost waited for a minute to hear something back from Soap but it was all silence. He peeked behind his fingers to see if he was still there. Soap's head was turned to the sun and his eyes were closed as if he was there to sunbathe. "Still here. No talking."
Ghost was stunned. "Why? Shortly."
He heard Soap sigh. "I don't want to give orders unknowingly. It makes people uncomfortable."
Ghost checked in his brain and found no pressing feeling to give an answer. It made him feel sympathetic towards the siren. He was the one who turned people into stones without warning. He was the one who had to put a blindfold and learn to fight in darkness just so he could use his powers to kill his enemies and not his fellow soldiers when he wasn't paying attention. Ghost understood him. And to his surprise, Ghost didn't gut Soap out for manipulating him and instead he just thanked the man. He heard Soap sighed. "You have a nasty stab wound on your right side. Be careful sleeping." And Ghost knew that he was gonna be. And he knew he was gonna actually sleep, against his will. "Stop this. You're manipulating me."
"I don't want to." Soap's voice was sad and Ghost hated to be that person but Soap was making him do things he didn't want to. "I don't care. Stop talking."
𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
Ghost went back to the cave and left Soap sitting on a rock and looking like he was out from an old painting of sirens. It was an unreal sight. The setting sun reflecting from the scales of his tail and broad wings casting shadows down the ground.
Dangerous. Ethereal.
He lied down on his left side and closed his eyes again. The stab wound was throbbing with pain but he was a soldier, it wasn't his first time getting injured on a mission. But against this, he slept through the night for the first time in his life.
Soap stayed at the top of the rock the whole night. He would be making a mess with his voice again if he had any anger or fright in him. A curse he got from his father, a curse he didn't deserve. He was born like this, and Soap was sure he didn't ask God to make him this way before his soul was sent down to the earth.
Bound to water. Bound to die alone.
Bound to be killed by someone with an earplug, whose relative he drowned when he was younger. Maybe with a knife to his heart or a gun to his head. Because he was aware of his sins, against his late mother's "it's not a sin if you didn't know you committed" sayings. Soap carried deaths on his shoulders when he didn't leave shore which no one came. His voice carried the bullet to the wast oceans.
A sniper.
Soap didn't talk again. And Ghost didn't open his eyes but neither of them leave. It would be easier if Ghost left. Ghost knew it. But he didn't. He couldn't, for some unknown reason. And Soap knew he could enchant Ghost to go away. To go back. But with an unspoken joint decision, they stayed. Soap would tap on Ghost's shoulder to indicate something, instead of using his voice. And with a blindfold, Ghost would touch to feel. Mostly the objects, sometimes Soap's fingers when he was handing the object. They went like that for some time. Ghost wasn't talking too much too, he wasnt a man of many words to start with but sometimes he felt the need to fill the silence. He told stories of his battles. The war he was fighting. He fought. His family. His dad and even a hint of what he done. The Roba, very briefly, just with a name. His wounds. His eyes.
Soap was always listening. Even though Ghost never saw it. But when Ghost was sleeping and nightmares came to haunt him, Soap would ease his worries with a whisper. And when Soap was sleeping, Ghost would watch him silently. He saw a face with half open lips to snore lightly, and closed eyes. But he assumed Soap's eyes were blue. He was a sea creature, of course his eyes were blue. And he wanted to see them up close. Ghost didn't really consider his own eyes as curse, never really hated them because it was how he managed to escape his dad. His old house was like a Britih museum when he left. But now, not be able to look at Soap's eyes was eating him alive.
"What color are your eyes?" Ghost heard his voice as a whisper but knew Soap heard and was looking at him. He didn't have an answer. Or rather, didn't answer.
"You can talk." Soap took a sharp breath. He wasn't talking for so long, his voice was hoarse and his throat hurt when spoke. "Blue."
Ghost knew it. He couldn't hold himself back from a tiny smile. A little tug of the corner of his lip. Soap saw it but didn't comment on it.
"What's yours?"
"Guess."
Soap didn't make a sound. Ghost found it odd first but then relaxed instantly. Happily, to his surprise. "I didn’t reply right away."
Ghost heard Soap's footsteps approaching. "Put some authority in your voice. Order me something."
Ghost didn't see it but Soap was biting on his lip. "Give me that knife on your west."
"In your dreams."
"Shit."
"Is that possible?"
Soap's voice was still hoarse but Ghost suspected it was because he was holding back tears. There was something broken behind it. "Mom always told me if I spend enough time with someone, my voice would lose its effect. I never stayed with someone. I didn't know."
Ghost didn't know whether to cry or laugh.
"Two fish in a tank..." Soap cut him with a frown. "What?"
"Well, if you tell me to shut up after this and I won't, we can be sure."
Soap burst in laugh at that and Ghost swore he was enchanted. It was Ghost's first time to make someone laugh. Soap saw the change on Ghost's face. "What?"
"I usually make people scream in fright and make them sob. This is new."
"And this is dark. I'm happy that I can finally talk and laugh without worrying if someone dropped dead."
"This is not dark?"
"Let's say we're colorblind."
Ghost smiled at that. He loved to hear Soap's laugh. Maybe it was the final stage of siren-manipulation before death and he woke up on the otherside after Soap gnawed him to his bones but he didn't care. Ghost was happy there. With or without talking or seeing. He was actually happy.
But it didn't take long. It never took long.
The relationship between them was different now. Ghost loved to hear Soap's laugh so he was making jokes sometimes. And he didn't know, but Soap was watching his face's every move to catch every little detail. Tugging of his lip because of an old and healed cut, nose scrunch.
Soap adored the nose scrunch.
But it all shattered down when heavy footsteps fall on the ground, yellings coming from the top of the hills. The hills Ghost came from.
His past caught up to him once again. Ghost screamed at Soap to get into water. It was the safest for him. And for Ghost. He knew he couldn't fight when his mind was on Soap and if he was dead or alive. Soap obeyed and disappeared under water. Ghost squatted behind the entry of the cave with his old weapon. A voice he didn't recognize called to him.
"Ghost! I know you're here. Come with us if you want to live." They didn't threaten him with Soap. Most likely they didn't know about him. Good. "Identify yourself!" Ghost's gun was ready, the safety was off.
"You don't know your owner? You don't know who made you?" It made Ghost froze on the spot. His last mission was against Roba's remnants. But he made sure every one of them was dead before leaving there.
"There's always someone left of us, Ghost. You're one of us." Ghost turned his head to the water. He didn't see but he could feel Soap's presence. Ghost turned back and unfold the fabric from his eyes. That shore was gonna turn into a garden gnome store soon.
After that it was all about blood and stone. If his knife and gun couldn't reach, his eyes could. Ghost left a bloody mess behind, but the owners of the blood on the ground were nowhere to be seen. If you didn't count the statues that can't bleed. Who was gonna say otherwise?
Ghost walked to the sea with closed eyes. He heard a splatter. Soap's head was above water and he could see the ground. He took a look at the mess and turned to Ghost. "You okay?" Ghost nodded. He was fine. It wasn't a different day. If anything, his time with Soap was different from the usual. The calm was not for him. He got used to it in his time at there. But now, when everything was unusually calm, panic squeezed his heart. Everything went silent for a second and Ghost instantly knew something was wrong.
"Soap?" Then he heard wings and felt the wind coming from them. Before he could say anything, he heard Soap's scream.
The next thing Ghost knew, he was on his back like the first day Soap found him but half of his body was under water now. Ghost got up and ran back to the ground with his eyes closed. Soap's scream was cut in half after a shooting sound with a grunt. Ghost knew what he was gonna see.
"Soap!" Ghost's hands found the one Roba that hadn't die yet and snapped his neck like a stick. His hands found Soap next. He knew blood. He was born in it. Bathe in it. Ghost knew what blood felt like under his hands, tip of his fingers, on his palms.
"Soap?" Nothing. Soap's heart was beating like a bird's wings under his hand.
"Johnny!"
"What a lovely way to wake up." Ghost heard him whisper. He found the wound. Soap was shot on the chest. Ghost's hands were shaking so much that he couldn't press on the wound.
"Just breath. Breath and I will wake you up like that for the rest of your life."
Ghost lifted his head and looked around frantically. He had to find a way to stop the bleeding. He could feel Soap's heart slowing down. He wanted to rip the world open with his bare hands. To punch a hole on the ground and strangle The Demon. To shot down The Angels. To kill God.
Ghost shut his eyes again. "Johnny..."
Soap didn't let him finish. He put his hand on Ghost's. They both knew it wasn't going to happen.
"Ghost. Look at me."
Ghost refused to do so. He wasn't going to.
"Simon."
Simon fought against it with everything.
"Si. Open your eyes. I want them to be the last thing I saw."
A gut wrenching sound escaped Simon's lips. He fought back. God knew he fought back. But Johnny used his last strength to made Simon do what he wanted.
Simon obeyed.
With tears streaming down his face, Simon opened his eyes and Johnny welcomed him with ocean blue eyes. His body started to turn into stone but there was a smile on Johnny's lips. He cupped Simon's face with his hand.
"Oh, I wouldn't guess. Two colors. Pretty. I will never forget them for the rest of my life."
With a last, sad giggle, Johnny turned into stone with a smile. Simon sat on the ground with a smiling and crying statue on his legs. He held the hands of it and touched the face. Tried to wipe the tears away, tried to kiss the lips. Wanted to cover the wound on its chest.
Couldn't do any.
He cried. He wept. He wailed. He bargained with God. Told him to take him instead. Wasn't he the one that was the sinner? The murderer? The killer? Didn't he take the lifes of innocents because his superiors wanted him to? Wasn't he the one that didn't deserve to live?
Then he got up. He took Johnny off the ground. Carried him to the rock Johnny would sit normally. When he was still breathing. A siren who would lure people with his voice.
He put him under the sun and over the ocean. Johnny loved these two, and Simon made sure he could watch them. Then went back to the cave. It was theirs. There wasn't anything to deny. It was his, and their, home. He didn't think about leaving. Simon made it a routine to wake up and sit with Johnny like always.
He knew he didn't deserve to live with all the blood on his hands. Not after Johnny died trying to save him.
He was eager to be punished. If his punishment was to left behind, to be left abandoned with a wish he couldn't dare to make.
He was eager to be punished.
So every morning, Simon sat next to Johnny and he protected Simon from the sun and wind under his wings. He spoke to him, talked about anything and everything he couldn't.
Simon didn't need him to answer.
Just listen.
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calliecwrites · 23 hours
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Pretending
Sometimes pretending to be a person is easy. Sometimes it isn’t. On the bad days, numbers start crawling on the page, straight lines curl, and I’ve got to remind myself to keep my face on. I want to stretch my other limbs, but the world down here is so thin, and so easy to tear. I have to be careful not to think too hard about anything, or it might start seeping through. You have no idea how much power you have, someone told me once, being able to create with a thought. And the children of my mind look too much like madness to humans.
Cases of madness worldwide are 1.3% higher on days like that.
But I don’t want to drive them mad. I’m here to protect them, not devour them. Not this time. So I have to pretend. Though with some of them practically throwing themselves at me, that isn’t always easy.
Writers are the worst. I let my ‘pretending to be a person is hard’ line slip into the coffee I’m nursing while my head pounds with the effort of keeping it all together, and her only response is, “Yeah, I know.”
“‘A writer is a world pretending to be a person’,” she quotes at me, and then, “That’s a deliberate misquote of something Victor Hugo said: ‘A writer is a world trapped in a person’. But I like my version better. If my soul wasn’t in a human-shaped body, sometimes I think I’d turn into a galaxy or something. Or maybe more than that. A multiverse.”
Humans are famously good at detecting things that don’t quite look human. I’m not doing a particularly good job of staying out of the uncanny valley today, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed. Or, worse, she’s noticed and likes it. Writers are like that sometimes. But I’ve been deliberately staying out of her mind. I can tell it’s twisty and complex, and I’m afraid the slightest touch from me would tip her over into madness. Or, who knows, maybe she’s right, and it would trigger her transformation into some kind of eldritch goddess that would put even me to shame. I don’t want to think about what that would do to the paper-thin world down here.
I’ve been so focused on my coffee, I’ve accidentally created another one. She hasn’t noticed.
“I do wonder what being a person is actually like, though,” she goes on. “You know, actually fitting in with all the weird rules humans have. Actually feeling at home here. And most of them only get to live one life, not all the fragments of all the lives we get to. Imagine that. They’ll never know what it’s like, being able to create with a thought.”
That last part hits too close to home, and I can’t resist taking just one quick peek into her mind.
“Oh, hello,” she says, and looks me in the eye.
I withdraw. No way she should have been able to feel that. And what I saw there – she’s practically a multiverse already, all jammed up there somehow into that tiny human brain.
“I always wondered if telepathy’s real,” she’s saying, “and now you’ve gone and proven it. Do that again, so I can see how you did it.”
No way, I’m not risking that – but she fumbles around and somehow does it anyway.
“There you are!” she says. I twitch back into my defences – why does this have to be happening on a day like this, when I’m barely holding it together anyway? The writing on the menu twists and curls, and customers start walking in circles. This time she notices.
“Ooh, eldritch abomination, is it?” she says. “Here, let me try.”
She squints, and now she’s holding another coffee, too. She takes a sip. “Mmm, just like in my dreams.”
Then she’s looking at me. Not just at my rapidly-slipping human disguise, but really looking at me, all the parts that no human should ever be able to see. But I don’t think she’s human anymore – I think she’s been right at that boundary for a while.
“You know, you really should pay more attention to that,” she says. “I find pretending is much easier if I do something like this—” and she does something, and my own human form snaps back into clarity. “There you go. Get those few things right and most people won’t even notice.”
Meanwhile, her own form is becoming more solid. That’s the only way I can describe it. Soon she’ll be so solid that her slightest movement will tear right through reality like tissue paper.
“Be careful,” I say, “you’re new to this, and this world is fragile—”
But it’s too late. She twitches in just the wrong way, and something tears.
Now everything is inverting. Everything that was packed up tightly inside her brain is becoming outside. The whole world is reforming around us, into one she considers home. I’m unaffected, but the humans are being completely rewritten.
“Hmm,” she muses, observing all the worlds at once. “Looks like I was right about myself.”
And she sees my dismayed expression. Avoiding something like this is exactly why I was being so careful down here. So much for that.
“Don’t worry,” she says, and gives me a reassuring pat somewhere in the fourth dimension. “There’s more than enough room in me for everyone.”
I really like that quote she uses, and use it myself. This story came from thinking - what if it was literally true, and not just a metaphor?
Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):
@avery-victoria-winterlight @dierotenixe @leahnardo-da-veggie @lunadook @mint-and-authoress
@sandyca5tle @scrubbinn @theriomythic-lesbian @void-botanist @wuwojiti
@zzzestyy
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