ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ @b1oodyhalo - Tumblr Blog

Apr 18

are you in the mood? | esdeekid

description: esdeekid x f! reader, pt two of one of your girls ; fed up with how jay treats you, you attempt to go no contact and see other people. but when a miserable first date leaves you feeling far too lonely to handle, you find yourself scrambling back to jay all over again.

content: drinking, toxic relationship (situationship more like lmao), reader is once again kind of a pushover, es is a liiiittle less mean in this one. this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such!!! if you dont like it, block the tags and move on <3 & please dont post my work elsewhere !

word count: 8.57k

ty as always to @tkomptgoedluv for being my fav beta reader everrrrr <333

your wrist hangs lazily in front of you, the stem of a wine glass held loosely between your index and ring fingers, swirling around the deep red liquid that remains in it. you exhale, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips,

“see? i told you you would like it.”

you try to hide the grimace that immediately wants to pull at your lips as the bitter drink passes them, fighting its way down your tongue as you empty the glass into your mouth and down your throat. you nod, eyes closing, twisting your disgust into a tight smile.

“uh-huh,” you hum, though you kind of hate giving him the satisfaction, almost as much as you hate red wine, even if you didn’t really mean it. you would have much preferred something bubbly, or a fruity cocktail. not the dry bottle of cabernet sauvignon your date had insisted on ordering for the two of you, convinced that he somehow knew your own tastebuds better than you. but by now you had sucked down more than half the bottle yourself, so he had certainly gotten the impression that you did, indeed, like it.

and you did, sort of like it, not for the taste, but for the fact that alcohol was the only thing making this date half way tolerable, and even then, half way was a stretch. it had been so long since you were last on a first date and you can’t help but wonder – were they always this uncomfortable? you try to recall the series of events that even got you here in the first place, why you had even matched with this man on one of the plethora of dating apps you had downloaded in the last few weeks.

his name is matthew, and despite the way he had been droning on and on about himself for the duration of the date, with hardly a spare second for you to be allowed to get a word about yourself in, you were pretty sure that was about all you knew about him. his long, needlessly wordy tangents often leaving you to forget the point he was ever trying to make in the first place whenever he spoke.

you set the glass back down on the table, empty now, looking just past matthew as he gestures his hands while he resumes whatever he had been speaking about,

“ – i’m telling you, things are just different out there– like, i dunno, crazy, i’m telling you, you gotta go to berlin if you ever get the chance–”

“i’ve been actually,” the words escape your lips quickly, desperate to finally get a word in before he went off blathering about himself for another fifteen minutes while you nodded along absentmindedly.

“yeah?” his eyes widen, like he’s surprised, and honestly he probably is, because he seems a little unaware of the fact that he’s not the only person in the world. he doesn’t elaborate further than that yeah, doesn’t ask you to explain why you had gone, or when, instead he opens his mouth ready to continue on about himself again. but you cut him off once more before he gets the chance.

“yup. went last fall for a show my fri- eh-er i guess ex-friend was playing,” you cringe a little as you stumble over your words, “well, no, not my friend,” you supposed it probably wasn’t polite to bring up ex’s on a first date, but you also supposed he wasn’t technically an ex and that you were too intoxicated now, and entirely sure there would be no second date, to actually care about niceties. if he could ramble about whatever bullshit was on his mind, why couldn’t you? and certainly, jay had been on your mind tonight, “you know the rapper esdeekid? yeah him.”

“he’s your friend?”

“ex.”

“sorry, ex friend.”

“no, he’s my– whatever,” you exhale, “complicated.”

“complicated,” he repeats with a short laugh, “that just means someone couldn’t be arsed to define it,” he shrugs, and you blink at him, chest tightening, he hadn’t even said it particularly unkindly, just simple, dismissive, like he had just solved something surface level. a sly smirk lingers on his lips, like he had just said the most profound thing in the world, and you wonder how someone could so often be so confident and so wrong.

because not being bothered to define just what you and jay had been would have actually been a more ideal situation. if you had not cared so much, if you had not wanted so badly to be something to him, you probably wouldn’t be on this stupid date now. in fact, if that had been the case, you probably would have been in jay’s bed, somewhere you had not been in weeks.

perhaps rather naively you had thought that the best course of action to get over your utter desperation to be something more than just one of the girls jay fucked, was just to leave altogether. and so you did, for the last three weeks you hadn’t picked up any of his calls, or answered his texts when he’d ask if you were awake at ungodly hours of the morning. part of you had also secretly hoped in doing so that by some miracle he’d be at your feet, begging for you to come back, that he would have missed you. but clearly, you had been sorely mistaken, you hadn’t received as much as an acknowledgement of the fact you had been ignoring him.

no, it had seemed if anyone was missing anyone, it was you missing jay. and terribly so. that’s why you were even on this date in the first place, right? as a distraction, to hope that maybe spending some time in the company of another man would help you get over this slump you had been in. but really, this had only done the opposite in reminding you of why you had stayed so long with jay; even with the constant pushing and pulling, the uncertainty, with all the times you had cried over him, because at the end of the day, at least he didn’t bore you.

matthew looks over at the now empty wine bottle on the edge of the table, pointing towards it,

“want to get another bottle?”

you can’t say yes fast enough.

but maybe that second bottle had been a little overkill, only realizing just how much you had drank as you struggle to keep upright on your train ride back home. you weren’t sure if you should have been offended or relieved that matthew had not asked to, at the very least, take you home so you wouldn’t have to be on your own so late at night. but nevertheless, you were alone, unbelievably alone, you think to yourself as your eyes catch on a couple sitting a few train seats away from you. the man’s arm was wrapped tight around the woman’s shoulder as she leaned her head against him, and they were laughing quietly amongst each other about something that you hadn’t overheard.

you look away eventually as you bite the inside of your cheek, your bottom lip quivering. this was pathetic of you, really. nearing teats at the mere sight of a happy couple. but you supposed you were used to that, feeling pathetic. but the gentle exchanges between the man and the woman not seated far had you thinking back on the brief period of time where things with jay had indeed been that soft. those first few months that you had been seeing each other, before you had muddied your relationship with a sloppy love confession.

you wonder, not for the first time tonight, if you had made a mistake.

not just with the date, though, that seems obvious now in hindsight, but with everything that had led you here, your decision to cut jay off as if distance alone would have been enough to untangle yourself from a feeling that you had allowed yourself to become far too entwined with.

three weeks without jay seems significant when you think about it, because before then you’d hardly ever gone more than a few hours without reaching out to him in some way. it felt like something you should be proud of, that you had spent three weeks ignoring the way his name lit up your phone at hours you knew were only reserved for you, and refusing to answer despite the way your chest strained each time. but it had also been three weeks of convincing yourself that if he truly cared, he would have noticed your absence in a way that forced him to act, that he would come back differently, more certain, ready to give you what you wanted. for real this time.

but he had not, and that probably should have been enough. and you know that, obviously. but your heart understands things in a way that the rational part of your brain never could. and so your hand moves almost without thinking, slipping into your bag, retrieving your phone and unlocking it. for how mindless it is, you know exactly what you’re about to do, because you had been thinking about doing it all night – no fuck that– for the last three weeks. but the urge had grown so much stronger, with every dismissive word your date had spoke, and every time he had failed to catch your attention, with every comparison your mind insisted on making.

you know you shouldn’t, but your inhibitions by now have fled entirely as you scroll through your messages, your phone screen blurring under your lazy gaze. it takes awhile for your eyes to focus enough to find the last conversation you’d had with jay, the unanswered you awake? text, time stamped at a ridiculous hour.

your thumbs hover the keyboard, hesitating for only a moment before you begin to type:

i miss you

and despite the way you send it without a second thought, the regret creeps in the moment the text registers as delivered. you contemplate briefly just quickly blocking him, pretending you hadn’t just done that, and continuing on with your project of ignoring jay indefinitely. but you can’t instead, you watch your phone screen, eyes trained on the pale light that blurs before you, waiting with baited breath to see if he’d respond.

as the seconds pass without a response you can feel yourself getting more irritable, mind already jumping to conclusions about what he could be up to before five minutes had even passed. you roll your eyes, he’s probably fucking some other girl right now. your jaw clenches. but despite the anger that you can feel growing within you, your thumbs are tapping over your phone screen again, texting something more desperate:

do u miss me???

your patience is depleted when another few minutes pass by without a response. your head tips to the side, temple pressed against the cold glass of the train window as you exhale a breath shakily. your eyelashes flutter, eyes rolling back with each lull of your head, swaying with the movement of the train.

for as much as the alcohol had helped you through the night, by now it was doing way more harm than good, letting way unchecked thoughts race around your brain. there’s a sense of hopelessness behind it all, that you had done something irreversible by ignoring jay these last few weeks, that the minutes that went by without a word from him now had been a sign that things were over. worse yet, that it could have been confirmation that you had never actually been that important to him, not in the way he was to you. you, to some degree, had known that you probably liked him way more than he liked you, but perhaps you had even overestimated how much he liked you in the first place.

but that didn’t really make sense, did it? by now you couldn’t quite be sure of anything. your eyes blink open and you lift your head back up to peer at the phone in your lap, still nothing. way against your worst judgement you pick of your phone again, clicking through to jay’s contact. you stare at the screen for a moment, thumb lingering over it, this was something pathetic, which was really saying a lot for you.

you hesitate for a moment, a more rational side of you practically begging for you to just shut off your phone, to just go home and go to sleep, to allow yourself to sober up without embarrassing yourself any further. but your eyes glance over his contact photo, a picture you’d taken of the two of you in your bed, before things had soured between you following your spontaneous love confession. your head is tucked under his chin, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to him. you remember having decided to make this his contact photo because he’d actually been smiling in it, something he hardly ever did, usually preferring to cover his face in some manner which you never quite understood. you frown, the days where things had been so easy, perfect, even, were just about the only parts of him your brain had been able to train in on lately, almost entirely forgetting all of the shit you’d had to put up with for him. and you hate how far out of reach that feeling seems, and the longing to experience that all over again is what pushes you, in one last desperate attempt, to call jay.

your leg bounces up and down against the train seat as your phone rings, and suddenly, you watch as the call timer suddenly starts counting up, and you’re racing to put the phone to your ear.

“hello?” you speak quickly, voice wavering, already having broken with the tears welling in your eyes. there’s some noise on the other end, some chatter, the faint sound of music, and then there’s a chuckle, a sound so unimaginably distinct as jay’s voice,

“needy tonight now are we?” you’d braced yourself to be met with some sort of annoyance, for him to ask roughly about why you’d been ignoring him, or complain about you pestering him tonight. but if anything, he seems amused, and you listen as he chuckles again, and your heart stutters in your chest.

“‘m’not needy,” you sniffle, shaking your head as if he could see you on the other side.

he hums, clearly unconvinced, “you double text then ring me when i’m not answerin’ fast enough for you liking,” he pauses for a moment, “what do you call that?”

“dunno… i just…” you swallow down, trying to find the words, like you hadn’t already admitted as much, “missed you. i guess.”

“‘bout time, yeah?” and you can practically feel him smiling on the other line, not kind, but not cruel, just satisfied, “surprised you’d managed this long, actually.”

“you’re a dick,” you murmur, though the words come out with less bite than you had hoped, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth, slurring your words together, “so mean…”

“and you’re pissed.”

“how do you kno-”

“can hear it in your voice,” he says simply, “you get all whiny sounding when you been drinking, or whatever. you go out tonight or something?”

“went on a date.”

“oh, yeah? can tell that went well then since you’re ringin’ me.”

“was right shit,” you huff, “barely got a damn’ word in, bought this nasty fuckin’ wine, even though i told him i hate red wine, and ugh–”

“sounds like you didn’t hate the wine that much,” he laughs.

“only ‘cause it made his boring ass almost tolerable,” you try to choke out a laugh in return, but really you couldn’t find any humor in your situation, your breath stutters as you try to inhale, and you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, ridding the tears that had dropped from your lash line, sucked.”

“ohh,” jay coos, “poor baby,” and it’s patronizing, it absolutely is, but the words still land softer than jay probably had anticipated, almost giving the impression that he had, actually, in some odd way felt bad for you, “sad now ‘cause you realized what you been missin’ by ignorin’ me?”

“maybe,” you say, voice low, like you’re ashamed to admit it, because you are, a little, ashamed that despite everything jay had still better than any one else in the world.

you can hear the music and the chatter on the other side of the phone get more distant, and the sound of shuffling like jay is moving about wherever he was.

“that’s right,” he breathes out, “on your way home now?”

“uh-huh. takin’ the train.”

“you by yourself?”

“yup.”

“mmm, don’t love that,” jay clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “where are you at now?”

“on the train, jay, i just said that,” you glance out the window, watching as the outside goes by in a blur.

“i mean what stop you near?”

“bout to get off, next one’s mine.”

“right, okay, look, i don’t want you walkin’ the rest of the way home by yourself like this, i’m at rico’s now, you know he don’t live too far so, i’ll be round, yeah? like, ten minutes, tops.”

“bossy, you,” you mumble, yet still, a faint smile pulls at your lips, because this, at least, was a sign that in some way, jay really did care about you.

“mhm, yeah, total fuckin’ dictator. forgive me for makin’ sure you get home safe, will you?”

“didn’t say i didn’t like it,” though your admission is quiet, mostly swallowed by the sound of the train rattling on the tracks as it comes into the station, “at my stop now.”

“okay,” he says, “lemme just say bye to rico, you wait there for me, don’t go wanderin’ off, yeah?”

and you listen, because you have no real reason to put up a fight, so you stay put, trying not to drift off as you sit on a bench under the warm glow of a streetlight, phone still pressed loosely to your ear.

“you there?” jay says after a few minutes of silence have passed,

“wha..? yeah, yup, told you, waitin,” you nod lazily, “can you hurry up? wanna see you…”

“it’s been what, five minutes?”

“felt longer,” you mumble, bottom lip pushing out just slightly into a small frown.

“awh, listen to ya,” his voice lowers, dipping back into that patronizing tone you’ve come to expect from him, “can’t even wait ten minutes for me, what a nightmare.”

“shut up,” you groan.

“you’re proper impatient, ye know tha’,” he continues, and you can tell he’s enjoying this.

you huff, shifting on the bench, pulling your knees up to your chest and curling in on yourself. you don’t speak for a moment, you only listen to the sound of his footsteps through the phone, the occasional muffled voices of people passing him by.

“yeah, well, said i missed you,” you say again, and it never gets less pathetic with each time you say it. he doesn’t answer, and you frown, pulling the phone closer to your ear, like maybe you had just missed it, “jay?”

“yeah, i heard ya,” he confirms, “you said tha’ like three times already.”

“so?” your voice sharpens a little as you sit up, a defensiveness poking through.

“so,” he laughs, “i get it, loud an’ clear.”

you drop your knees, your feet landing heavily against the ground below with a thump,

“you didn’t say it back.”

and there’s another moment of silence aside from a sigh from jay before he speaks again,

“you’re hard work,” he mutters eventually, deflecting, like usual, “ring me out of the blue, drunk off your ‘ead, startin’ this–”

“jay,” you cut him off, and sniffle quickly before you speak again, “did you?”

“you’re a smart girl,” he starts, “you can use your ‘ead and infer.”

“then say it,” you whine, because even if you could infer that he did by his decision to come get you now, it wasn’t quite the same, because an inference just wasn’t enough. you needed to hear him say it, that he missed you, that your ignoring him had at least left him with some sort of empty feeling. but he couldn’t give you that satisfaction, or maybe he just couldn’t admit it himself, because saying it out loud meant it was real.

“huh?” he says, like he didn’t quite catch it, but you’re sure he heard you, “wait, turn ‘round, i think i see you.”

“oh, uh–” you whip your head around, a little too fast, and you try to blink the sudden blur from your vision. you scan the dim train platform under the yellow glow of the streetlights.

you hear the faint musical chime of the phone call ending, and you drop your hand from where it holds your phone at your ear as you squint your eyes. and there jay is, not far away, giving a small wave with his phone still in hand.

you freeze for a moment as he walks closer, like you couldn’t quite believe he was there, eyes widening, jaw slacking. jay looks behind him briefly before turning back to you,

“you seen a ghost or something?” he laughs, “what’s that look for?” yeah, something like that you suppose.

you stumble slightly as you try to get up from the bench, legs threatening to give way from beneath you as you stand up straight.

“woah–” jay holds both of his hands up, and you can’t tell if he’s amused or concerned, but he reaches a hand out as you step around to the back side of the bench where he’d been standing, grabbing yours so he can at least try to keep you up right, “careful, crackin’ your ‘ead open on the pavement wouldn’t be a pretty way to end the night.”

still, his cautioning does little to sway you as you step toward him with a little too much force, nearly falling straight into him, your chest bumping his. he very quickly lets go of your hand as to not twist your arm from your awkward position against him now, instead moving to wrap his arms around your back. it’s probably more just to keep you upright than it is to embrace you, but it doesn’t stop you from throwing your arms around him too, squeezing his middle tight, your fingers gripping tight into the fabric of his hoodie.

he lets out a soft breath at the impact, one hand flattening against your back to steady you,

“alright, easy,” he mumbles close to your ear, “nearly took me out there.”

you don’t answer, you only cling to him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, face nuzzled to his neck. you could cry, in fact you probably already are. and it’s embarrassing, distantly, you’re aware of that much. aware of how this must look to him, too much and too clingy. but you tried, didn’t you? you really tried to stay away, tried to ignore the empty feeling that bore its way deeper and deeper into your chest with each passing day you’d spent without jay. but you couldn’t hold out, not when this was what you’d been giving up.

“date that bad?” he laughs, a bit awkwardly, like he’s not really quite sure what to say. and you nod, but that’s obviously not the whole of it. because one sour date would not usually elicit this reaction, not from you, probably not from anybody. but it certainly didn’t help your situation, only serving to remind you of what you didn’t have yet so desperately wanted, a real, honest romantic relationship. still you continue,

“just went on, talkin’ ‘bout himself, like i wasn’t even there,” you whine, “didn’t listen when i did talk neither.”

“sounds like a real charmer,” one of jay’s hands comes to brush over the back of your head, fingers loosely threading in your hair, “that all?”

“uh uh,” you shake your head against jay’s neck before looking up with a sniffle, your eyes meet his through fluttering, wet lashes, “wasn’t even good looking enough to be actin’ like that,” you pout, “not handsome like you.”

his mouth twitches slightly at that, like he’s trying not to react too much, but you can see the beginnings of a smirk forming on his lips,

“yeah?” his eyebrows raise, “that your expert opinion?”

“mmhm,” you mumble, stepping back slightly as you let go of jay, a hand now instead coming up to graze his face, your fingers brush lazily against his cheek as your head tips to the side, eyes dragging over his face, “way more handsome.”

jay lets out a quiet laugh as he flinches a little, pulling away from where your hand stays on his face as your fingers brush just above his eyebrow,

“christ, gonna poke me eye out doin’ tha’,” his voice barely reaches a scold despite his words, still you frown at the way he backs away from you. your fingers curl slightly, before your hand drops to his chest,

“sorry,” your voice softening, quieting whatever reflex he had to pull away, as he moves a little closer once again.

“yeah, s’fine,” he shakes his head, not making a big deal of it, “just watch it, yeah?”

you nod immediately, a little too obedient, your fingers tightening in his hoodie where your hand rests against his chest,

“okay.”

“right, sound,” he says, a bit louder now, “arm up,” he shifts his grip, an arm settling around your waist as he guides you against his side. you don’t question it, just follow his lead as he lifts your arm to hook around his shoulder, your body immediately folding in on him.

“good, stay like that,” he adjusts slightly, standing up a little straighter so you’re better balanced, “we’re walkin’ now.”

“mkay,” you respond lazily, head tipping to rest against his shoulder. the walk is slower than it should be, and it’s mostly your fault, refusing to stand up straight, still a bit wobbly on your legs, with jay having to ask you to stop dragging your feet, or leaning so far against him a handful of times in the short distance you had to trek between the train station and your house.

when you reach the door to your flat you exhale, hand lazily raising toward your bag to attempt to fish for your keys,

“ugh, don’t bother,” jay says quickly, “i got it,” somehow managing well enough to keep you steady against his side as he reaches around your front and fishing through your bag himself, pulling out your keys and unlocking your door.

“mhm, home sweet home,” your words slur, a weak smile tugging at your lips as you stumble through the door.

“alright, bed, you,” jay motions in the direction of your room, and you turn around to face him,

“you stayin’?” it’s not even just a part of you that wants him to say yes, you want him to stay with every bone in your body. you pout your lips slightly, eyes widening, still a little wet from earlier as you bat your lashes, a silent beg for him to agree to spend the night.

“I dunn- hey,” his brows furrow, “don’ look at me like that,” he shakes his head.

“like what?” your mouth quirks to one side as your head tips, pretending like you didn’t know damn well what he was talking about.

“you’re givin’ me those sad puppy dog eyes you do when you want somethin’ from me,”

“so?” you lean in a little closer to him, wrapping a finger around one of the strings of his hoodie, “maybe i do.”

“predictable,” he mutters, “always wantin’ somethin, you.”

you pull the string of his hoodie a little tighter, bringing him closer to you, your other hand pressed against his chest,

“not somethin’, just you,” and you’re pouting again, voice hitting a whinier pitch, “stay. please, jay.”

jay rolls his eyes as his tongue presses to the inside of his cheek, “look at you,” he laughs, a slight edge to it, as his hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, thumb swiping at the space just below your eye, “three weeks of you actin’ all big an’ brave ignorin’ me an’ now you’re begging me not to leave. fuckin’ incredible.”

“not begging,” though, you certainly are, nudging your cheek against his palm, “just would reeeally like it if you stayed.”

“yeah, i’m stayin,” he sighs, as if he was really giving in, as if it was something that took any sort of real convincing, “s’pose if i don’t you’ll start bawlin’ your eyes out again.”

“don’t be mean…”

“not bein’ mean, love,” he replies, though he absolutely is, at least a little, teetering that fine line he so often did with you between patronization and genuine concern, “said i’d stay, yeah? like you wanted.”

“yeah…” you trail off, and at least there was that, that knowledge that jay would be here, at least for the night. that the stunt you’d pulled these last few weeks wasn’t enough to push him away completely, “do want that.”

your finger slips from the string of his hoodie, the braided material uncurling as you instead now rest both hands against his chest. you exhale, eyes flicking over jay, looking over the satisfied smirk that curls at the corner of his mouth, at the way his lashes hang low above his eyes, now realizing how low they are, and the slight redness that clouds the whites of his eyes. you supposed he’d probably been smoking with rico, as they so often had done, the scent of weed still clinging to his clothes and his hair, mixing all too pleasantly with the warm, spicy scent of his cologne.

and now, as you stare straight at jay, you realize that it’s really a miracle that you had even made it as long of a time as you did without reaching out to him, let alone decide to attempt to go on a date with another man. because really, nobody compared, nobody even came close. in your drunken state you can hardly recognize the feeling in you that had even prompted you to try to cut jay off, and though you’re sure soon enough he’ll remind you exactly why, at least for now things were blissful enough.

which is exactly what has you leaning forward, tilting your head up, just enough so you’re lips brush clumsily against his jaw, missing his mouth entirely, and you stumble forward a little at that,

“oi–” he huffs out a laugh, “easy, what’dya think you’re doin’?”

“kiss… you…” you say, as if it’s obvious.

“yeah?” his brows lift, amused, “that so?”

you nod, a bit too eagerly, already leaning in again, your hand sliding from his chest to his neck. but he stops you, hand slipping down your cheek, pressing two fingers under your chin, keeping him ever so slightly out of your reach.

you frown immediately, “jayy,” you drag out his name, “don’t–”

“look at you,” he cuts you off, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, “think i’m gonna let you kiss me like this?”

“why not?” your voice sharpens, a little offended, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“means,” his fingers leave your jaw, two of them instead tapping at your temple, “you’re not thinkin’ straight,” he tips his head to the side, his bottom lip poking out slightly to mock your pout, “all drunk an’ needy…you’d let me do whatever right now, wouldn’t you?”

“anything…” you nod lazily, though, that probably isn’t the right answer, it’s certainly not the one that will get you what you want, only conforming to jay the state of mind you were in. but it was the truth, and that was all you could muster out right now.

“exactly why we aren’t doin’ anything,” he traces the side of your face with a single finger, his light touch sending shivers down your spine, “don’t wanna hear any more begging tonight, baby. you’re goin’ to bed.”

“so controlling,” you roll your eyes.

“yeah, yeah, whatever – bed,” he taps your cheek lightly with his palm to better catch your attention, and you sigh,

“fine.”

though, getting to bed is not really as awful of a fate as your tone would suggest, because, now that you’re stumbling closer to your room, you realize just how exhausted you are, and how a dull throb is starting to press itself into your head. you should sleep and soon.

“sit down, yeah?” jay says, motioning toward your bed as you enter your room, and you do so easily, with really no desire to keep yourself upright anymore. you drop down on the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly at the force with which you hit its surface. jay kneels in front of you for a moment, his hand grazing over your ankle before loosening the strap on one of your heels, slipping it off before repeating the motion with the other.

before jay gets a chance to stand up your hands find his hair, fingers threaded through the soft strands at the top of his head. jay pauses briefly at that, eyes closing for a moment, a sigh falling from his lips, his peaceful expression elicits a small smile from you, it was always a pleasant surprise when jay would drop the act, when he’d stop pretending, for at least a little, that he only merely tolerated you.

jay’s hand ghosts over your knee before he stands up, your hands dropping from his hair and into your lap.

“you need help changin’?”

“i mean,” you pause for a moment, thinking it through, “could prob’ly do it, but… don’t really wanna,” the thought of getting up right now, of rummaging through your clothes when you’d already sunk deep into the mattress below seeming like a far too difficult chore.

“yeah, alright,” jay nods, walking away from you, but not out of eye sight, just turning toward your dressers, “where do you keep your…”

“wait, uhh” you say, narrowing your eyes, “what’re you wearing under that?” you gesture loosely with a single finger toward him.

“a t-shirt?” he furrows his eyebrows, turning to face you now.

“just gimme that then,” you shrug, trying to save him the hassle of making him pick out something for you to wear.

he stands still for a moment, not saying anything, blinking a few times as he looks you over. he rolls his eyes and lets out a small puff of air from his nose,

“okay…” he steps closer, fingers nearing the hem of his hoodie, moving to pull it over his head, dropping it at the foot of your bed. his t-shirt follows, and your breath catches a little at that, like you hadn’t seen him shirtless dozens of times over, “‘ere,” he passes the shirt off to you. you take it from him, setting the fabric in your lap as your eyes refuse to leave him.

you’re sure you look a little dazed, still inebriated, eyes blown wide as your jaw hangs open just a little,

“‘s’not polite to stare at people, ye’know,” jay shakes his head.

“even when they…” you trail off for a moment, bottom lip curling under your top front teeth, “are soooo…”

“sooo?”

“soooo…” you giggle, “hot.”

“shameless tonight, are we?” scoffing slightly, but it's clear he’s entertained by this, like he could never truly be bothered by your utter facenation with him.

“there somethin’ i should be ‘shamed of?” you ask innocently, though, there probably is, like you being so easy right now, like jay hadn’t broken your heart time and time again and you still fell to your knees like this for him no matter how hard you’d tried not to.

“get dressed,” he points to the shirt in your lap, and you nod, letting him brush off the earlier conversation. you peel off the shirt you’d been wearing, still too drunk to care about jay’s eyes on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, your eyes meeting his through batted lashes as the straps slip down your shoulders, and you slide it the rest of the way off. you linger for a moment, watch as jay’s eyes widen for just a moment before he very quickly blinks the amusement off his face. you stifle a laugh at that, slipping the shirt over your head, the scent of him catching in your nostrils.

your skirt is the next to go, shifting awkwardly against the mattress as you pull it down your thighs before eventually letting it drop from your knees to the floor, kicking the garment to the side.

“finished your little show, have you?” jay’s tone dryer than it had been earlier, though it still doesn’t land as harsh as it could have.

“yup,” you bite the inside of your cheeks, trying to hide the smirk that threatens your lips, “need your help now…”

“what’s it now?”

“my makeup,” you pause for a moment, “don’ wanna sleep in it. can you mmm, take it off for me?”

“yeah,” he laughs, “what’s one more thing i gotta do for you tonight, eh?”

“oh,” you coo, “you’re the best. makeup wipes on my desk.”

“mmm,” jay hums, “we’ll see how long you keep that tune,” he steps away again, walking over to your desk and plastic packaging of your makeup wipes crinkling under his fingers as he grabs it, returning back to the foot of your bed, “go on,” he nods his head up, “lay back.”you do, letting yourself flop back on the mattress, moving back just enough so he can get on the edge of it. jay settles in over you, one knee pressing into the mattress beside your hip, the other braced near your thigh, caging you in without putting his full weight on you.

he’s close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin with each warm exhale from his nose. it almost feels a little suffocating, just the presence of him, how intimate this felt without the expectation of sex, something that almost gave you the impression that you’d been at least a little more than just one of the girls he fucked.

you wonder briefly if he would have done this for any of the other girls he got with, if he would have dropped what he was doing just to walk them home because they’d been too drunk, if he’d stay the night when they asked, or if he’d take care of them like this. you’d like to believe he didn’t, that you were special, but even now in your drunken state you weren’t so quick to accept that as truth. and you knew if you were to ask he’d brush it off, assure you that you were his best girl like he always did, like that meant anything when you so desperately wanted to be his only girl.

you flinch as jay brushes over your cheek with one of the makeup wipes, startled, like you hadn’t been the one to ask him to do this.

“stay still,” he mutters,, dragging over the smudged mascara on your skin, still, you can’t help but twitch again as he gets closer to your eye, forcing a sigh from jay. and you try to maintain your composure, try not to squirm under him despite the shivers that run down your spine, and the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. your fingers curl into the comforter on either side of you, boding tensing, yet still, you flinch, and shudder everytime jay touches your face, “fuckin’ hell,” he breathes out, gripping your chin between his thumb, index, and middle fingers, rough at first as he pulls you to look straight up at him, loosening only once he attempts to take off your makeup again without you flinching this time, “see?” he raises his eyebrows, “knew you could behave.”

you lose your words at that, breath sticking a little in your throat, jaw slacking enough so that his thumb pokes at your bottom lip, a quick smirk flashes on your lips before your head tips forward a little, thumb slipping past your lips, and you bite down, just a little.

“fuck,” he hisses, though you’re sure it’s a bit of an exaggeration, you really hadn’t bit down that hard, “just as i said you were bein’ good,” but his thumb doesn’t slip from your mouth, even as you relax your jaw, lips parted as you stare up at him. truthfully, you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, part of you wanting absolutely nothing more than to just pass the fuck out right now, another wishing you were sober enough to let this go further without making jay feel like he was taking advantage of you. which he wouldn’t be, really, but how could he trust that to be the case when you were a bottle of wine deep and clearly a little emotionally vulnerable right now.

jay stares back for a moment, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, his jaw just barely tightening. his thumb finally slips from your mouth, but slowly, dragging against your lip as it leaves, forcing a pout from you, “god,” he mutters, quiet, and you’re pretty sure you really aren’t meant to hear it at all, still, you answer him,

“what?”

he exhales from his nose, eyes shutting for a moment like he’s trying to shake some feeling off,

“you,” he says quick and flat, like that somehow explains everything, his thumb grazes over your cheek, “so fuckin’ pretty,” he chuckles to himself, “almost makes the shit you put me through worth it.”

“yeah?” the small compliment enough to make you entirely disregard the rest of his statement, because by now you were used to the fact that he could never just be sweet, never let himself get carried away entirely about how taken with you he really was,

“mhm,” returning back to taking the rest of your makeup off, but this time you don’t flinch, a little more dazed, “can’t believe some other lad got to take out my pretty girl tonight,” he shakes his head, “s’pose i’m a bit glad it went so shit.”

“you’re awful,” you scoff, though maybe you’re a little glad too, because it lead you here, with jay, where you really wanted to be.

“awful?” his eyebrows raise, pulling back as he finally finishes taking off your makeup.

“uh–huh,” you nod, “don’ wanna see me happy?”

“tha’s not true,” he shakes his head, “just know you’re happier with me, yeah?”

“yeah,” you mumble, “me and how many other girls?”

“girls i’d do all this for?” he pauses for a moment, “none.”

“wow,” you say flatly, “really know how to make a girl feel special,” you roll your eyes, hating how he pretended like the “special” treatment he gave you was enough to make up for the way he strings you along, acting like he was damn near being your boyfriend one day almost saying as much sometimes, and then having the nerve to act like you were crazy for being upset when he’d sleep with someone else.

“come on, don’t start,” he sighs, finishing with taking your makeup off, climbing off the bed and walking to throw the used wipes away in the bin next to your desk,

“no– jay,” you protest, “i will start,” you sit up, head throbbing a little harder at the sudden movement, your brows lower, face scrunching into a pout,

he pauses for a moment by your desk, body stiffening before he turns to you, a small, incredulous laugh escaping him, and for a second you think that he is just going to brush it off again, make some stupid joke, twist it into something lighter so doesn’t have to really address what was going on between you two, just like he always did. you make sure to get a word in before he has the chance.

“always do this,” you continue, “say jus’ enough to keep me around… make it sound like im different or… fuckin’ special or whatever, but–” you swallow, your throat tightening as your words get shaky, “but i’m not… not really.”

jay runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly, buying himself some time before he responds. he doesn’t step any closer to you,

“you’re drunk.”

“yeah, but i’m not stupid,” you sniffle, “know enough to tell i care way more about us than you do.”

“maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are then, if thas’ what you think.” his words are blunt, but his voice remains calm, and it almost knocks the wind out of you more than if he had snapped. you blink a few times, heart starting to race a little faster, lip quivering,

“that’s…shit,” you practically spit, “how can you say that when you’re…” you cut yourself off for a moment, frustrated tears beginning to slide their way down your cheek, “when you’re the one who makes me feel that way?”

“don’t mean it like that,” he shakes his head, “just– you’ve got this wrong.”

“then explain it to me jay,” your voice picks up a bit, a little louder now, still weak and wavering despite it’s volume, “actually fucking tell me how you feel for once. i’m not a fucking mind reader.”

his eyes stay on you for a moment, but he doesn’t rush to speak, the room filling with the quiet sounds of your strained breathing, the way you huff in as you try to stifle the sobs that threaten your lips.

“alright,” he says finally, he drags a hand over his face, then drops it, exhaling a slow breath, “i’ll tell you, yeah? just don’t interrupt me for a second.”

you don’t answer, you only blink a few times, like you’re expecting him to carry on, and he nods once,

“i like you,” he starts, simple enough, but his words very quickly become unsteady, a little rushed, a quiver in his voice that you’re not exactly used to, “an’ not just like… i like having sex with you, like,” he swallows, sighing, frustrated with the way his words are coming out, and you can only assume he’s never done this before, “i really fuckin’ like you.”

he stops for a moment, yet you still don’t speak, tears clinging to your lashes as you watch him,

“and ye’know,” he inhales, chest rising, eyes closing like he needs to prepare for what he’s about to say next, “it scared the shit out of me when you told me you loved me because i…” he trails off, searching for the right words, “i think– fuck,” he mutters, “it just made shit so fucking real, yeah? an’ i’ve never… i’ve never done real. always just did what felt good in the moment, never had to answer for it after, or had someone expect me to be consistent.”

“i- i didn’t mean to scare you,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, “i know maybe i shouldn’t have–it just seemed like we were goin’ somewhere.”

“no,” he interrupts, “you didn’t do anythin’ wrong sayin’ it. know i made it seem that way, an’ i’ll be honest, i weren’t thinkin’ about where it ended, i was just in it, with you, and it felt good, so i didn’t question it. an’ then you said you loved me, and that was fuckin’ intense, ye’know? ‘cause you’re not just some girl to me,”

he pauses for another moment, running his hands in his hair again, and it’s clear he’s not quite sure what to do with himself because he’d never been quite this sincere with you, and from the sounds of it, he’d never been this sincere with anyone ever. so you supposed you could forgive how misplaced some of his words felt.

“and i– i really just didn’t know how to handle bein’ responsible for all those feelings, so just thought if i acted like a dick, stopped showin’ up how i used to you wouldn’t expect me to be that we could just, i dunno, go back to how things were before.”

“so your solution to not wanting to be responsible for my feelings was… just hurting them instead?” you can’t really even begin to understand the logic, because there really isn’t any to it, is there? and you’re not quite sure if that makes it better or worse.

“didn’t say i was bein’ smart about it,” his jaw tightens for a moment, “i fucked up, bad okay, and i know that, realized that pretty quick, but by then i didn’t know how to un-fuck it up, guess i– i tried to tell you i liked you, in my own weird way but… shit… clearly that didn’t work out much either.”

“no,” you shake your head, “ made me feel like, i was imaginin’ things, like, that i was stupid for how i felt about you.”

“i know, i know,” jay breathes out, finally inching closer, sitting next to you on the bed. he reaches a hand out, palm cupping your jaw as his thumb brushes over your cheek. you don’t pull away, even with how upset you are by him, because you just couldn’t, because jay’s fears had been so deeply unfounded, because no matter how hard he pushed you away, he could never push you far enough to leave, “i’m sorry, you’re not stupid, not one bit. s’’me who’s the idiot here,” he wipes away a few of the tears that had fallen from your cheek with his thumb, “had the sweetest girl in the world tellin’ me she loved me, an’ i’ve been nothin’ but a dickhead to ‘er.”

you nod, leaning into jay’s touch at that, a little unsure how to proceed, because this didn’t quite fix everything, did it? months of hurt feelings still lingered between you and jay, the worry he was just going to pull away once again looming over you like an ugly gray stormcloud on an otherwise sunny day. but it certainly didn’t make things worse, still, you felt yourself a little confused on how exactly he felt about you, about what he wanted, if he wanted more than this.

“jay?” you start, head picking up from where it rests in his hand,

“yeah?” his eyebrows lower, voice raising in pitch.

“is this you saying uhh…” you trail off, swallowing down hard, and you feel your heartrate kicking up again as a sort of worry hits you, anxious about the question you’re about to ask, and even more anxious about the answer, about what it would mean for you and jay, “sayin’ you love me?”

“you don’t waste any time, huh?” he chuckles, dry and awkward, his body stiffening, because even after all of this he still doesn’t seem prepared to answer that question.

“do you?” you push a little harder despite the way your voice softens, making it clear you probably wouldn’t be able to handle him dodging to question any further. the room is silent for a moment, and your stomach twists as you wait for an answer,

“yeah,” he says finally, speaking like a weight has just been lifted from his shoulders, “i do, ‘course” your breath catches but he doesn’t stop there, “i love you.”

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