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taeghi · 5 months ago

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silver spoons | (m)

🦢 summary : in the shadows of old money elites, you've always felt like an outsider amidst the glimmer of silver spoons and whispered secrets. raised by hardworking parents on society's fringes, opulence seemed a distant dream until a scholarship to Sterling Academy opens the your dream's doors. there, amidst the marble halls and manicured lawns, you encounter jake, the enigmatic heir of one of the oldest and wealthiest families who lets you in in all the high society secrets. just be careful to not indulge in their world too much; since once you are an outsider, you are always an outsider.

🦢 genre : old money, angst, smut ;D

🦢 pairing : scholarship girl x old money!jake

🦢 word count : 29,400

🦢taglist : @criminalyun @hzorpheu @jjklvr9 @yeorns @lhspeachie @hizhu @iikeustar @eloelooo @kookify @meujaeyun @minniejenseo @ak-aaa-li @cha0thicpisces @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @jaeyunluvr @syl-vb @hallaween23 @strxwbloody @nikitaxlee @lhsthinkr @flowerlvrs-blog @willysblog @enhabooks @heeverseblog @skzenhalove @hotsforikeu @sweetlikesugarvenom-fm @tiziamattaga @angelhyj @sunwoniie @hoonmyluv @m3chigo @yunhoswrldddd @kirinaa08 @yongbokified @woniebae @seonghwaexile @missychief1404 @jaklvbub @jaehoonii @koralira-kira @aespie @fakeuwus @jjongsha @suzyhhj @m3chigo @kgneptun @shiningnono @itgirlalisaa @notevenheretbh1 @astralis-is-typing

mdNi

you grew up in the small town nestled right next to Sterling Academy. If you looked out your bedroom window, you could see it amongst the rolling hills in the distance. each fall, as the crimson hues of autumn paint the landscape, the streets come alive with the arrival of students. you’ve seen their parents’ sleek cars glide effortlessly down the winding roads, their polished exteriors reflecting the golden light of the meadows that surrounds the building. limousines and fancy cars, symbols of privilege and prestige, carrying people whose lives seem worlds apart from your own.

your parents were extremely hardworking in your small town. your father was a miner in the mines that were only a few towns over. your mother was a skilled artisan who made all the handmade goods for the people of your town.

you’ve always felt like an outsider from the world of opulence and excess that was just next door to you. while others reveled in the grandeur of the academy and luxurious lifestyles, you remained on the sidelines, a silent observer of a world that seemed to tantalizing out of reach.

you knew that even though there was a small flicker of hope, a glimmer of possibility, that you would be able to live a life similar to the students of Sterling Academy, you would never be one of them. though you dreamed of walking the hallowed halls of the academy, of rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful, of finally belonging to a world that had always seemed just beyond your grasp.

but for now, you remain on the outskirts of Sterling Academy. a silent observer that watches as the seasons and students come and go. as your town remains the same everyday with the same people. you let yourself cling to the hope that one day you’ll be able to be like students who go to the prestigious academy.

during summer, you always found yourself in the garden. surrounded by the rustle of leaves and the sweet flower scent. your hands were always stained with earth and your eyes were determined to finish the garden work you had set up for yourself.

“y/n,” your mother’s voice called out from behind you, soft but still manages to surprise you.

“oh my god, mom you scared me.” you smiled up at her, your hand on your chest. you could instantly tell that your mom was overly excited about something. your dad stood beside her, matching her twisted grin. “what?”

“we have some good news,” your dad grinned, his voice buoyant with joy as he pulled something from behind his back. your heart skipped a beat with anticipation.

“you got accepted into Sterling Academy!” your mother blurted out, her words tumbling forth like a rush of wind.

“what?” you exclaimed, immediately standing up from your position on the ground. you didn’t bother to rub off the dirt on your hands as you grabbed the paper from your dads hands.

sure enough, written on the paper were the words:

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

It is with great pleasure that we extend our congratulations to you on your acceptance to Sterling Academy this fall through our prestigious scholarship program. We are thrilled to offer you this opportunity to join our esteemed community of scholars. Please see attached for further details inquiring about your tuition coverage, academic requirements and any additional resources available.

Warm regards,

Admissions Committee

Sterling Academy

“but, i don’t understand,” you shook your head at your parents, “i didn’t apply to their scholarship program.”

“we know,” your mother nodded, “we did for you.”

“what? why?”

“because we know how much you’ve always wanted to go there, y/n!” your dad spoke and you could hardly believe what you were hearing.

it’s as if time stands still, your small town around you fading into a blur as you grapple with the news. and then, with a surge or emotion that threatens to overwhelm you, you leaped into your parents’ arms. wrapping their bodies close to your own.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” you kept repeating to them as they laughed and hugged you back.

there were so many emotions crashing over you at once, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. you don’t feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes, spilling over down your cheeks until your mother asks you why you are crying. but it’s a silent testament to the depth of your gratitude and disbelief.

you were so excited that you hardly sleep the night before you started school at Sterling Academy. despite the heavy weight of exhaustion pressing down upon your eyelids, sleep eludes you, slipping through your grasp like the seeds of petunias you had planted earlier this year. restless thoughts swirl through your mind, a tempest of anticipation and nerves that refuse to be quieted. you toss and turn in bed, seeking refuge from the ceaseless torrent of doubts and fears that threaten to engulf you.

with trembling hands, you check and recheck your bags, ensuring that you haven’t forgotten anything essential for your first day at Sterling Academy.

but no matter how many times you run through the checklist in your mind, a nagging sense of doubt lingers, a whisper of insecurity that refuses to be silenced. it's as if the weight of tomorrow's expectations hangs heavy in the air, casting a pall over your thoughts and clouding your vision of what lies ahead.

the memory of how you finally drifted into sleep the night before eludes you, lost amidst the whirlwind of anticipation and nerves that swept through your mind. but now, as you stand outside Sterling Academy, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the imposing facade of the building, you find yourself filled with a sense of anxiousness and determination.

your parents stand by your side, their presence a reassuring anchor amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces that surrounds you. as you approach the entrance to Sterling Academy, a rush of excitement courses through your veins. the grandeur of the building looms before you like a fortress, its towering spires reaching skyward as if to touch the heavens.

the ivy-clad walls, weathered by time, stand tall against the blue sky, casting shade over the lush greenery that surrounds the building. a row of neatly trimmed bushes lines the path leading to the entrance, their emerald leaves rustling in the breeze. in the center of the courtyard, a fountain glistens in the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters cascading down tiers of stone. as you draw nearer to the entrance, the intricate details of the building come into focus. gothic arches adorn the windows, their elegant curves reminiscent of a bygone era of grandeur and opulence.

you couldn’t believe that you were standing directly in front of the building you had only ever seen from your window.

as you walk down the grand hallway with your parents, their expressions a mix of pride and apprehension, you can't help but feel a sense of wonder wash over you.

the walls are adorned with paintings, their colors vibrant against the rich tapestries and flickering candles. the scent of polish lingers in the air, mingling with the soft glow of chandeliers that cast intricate patterns on the marble floors below. you had thought before that you’d only ever get to see this place in pictures.

"this place is incredible," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you take in the grandeur of your surroundings.

finally, you find your room, the number ‘42’ etched in brass shining brightly against the dark wood. with trembling hands, you insert the key into the lock and turn it, the click of the mechanism echoing through the hallway. as the door swings open, you're greeted by a sight that takes your breath away. the room is bathed in soft light, streaming in through the tall windows that overlook the courtyard below. twin beds sit across from each other against separate walls, their crisp white linens inviting and pristine. a mahogany desk and matching chair occupy each corner, while a cozy reading nook with plush armchairs beckons from another.

as your parents stand before you, their expressions a mix of pride and bittersweetness, you feel a lump form in your throat. the weight of their impending departure hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room that was once filled with excitement and anticipation.

"we'll miss you, sweetheart," your mother says, her voice soft with emotion.

your father nods in agreement, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "but we know you'll do great here," he says, his voice steady despite the emotion that lingers just beneath the surface.

you pull them both into a tight embrace, clinging to them as if afraid to let go. the scent of your mother's perfume and the warmth of your father's embrace envelop you like a cocoon, offering a fleeting sense of comfort in the face of impending separation.

with one final squeeze, you release them from your grasp, watching as they turn and make their way to the door, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors.

as the door clicks shut behind them, you're left alone in your new surroundings. you lay back on the bed, the soft mattress beneath you so different from your bed at home.

as the door to the dorm room swings open, a girl strides in with purpose, her arms laden with bags that she unceremoniously drops to the floor with a thud. she barely spares you a glance as she begins to unpack her belongings, her movements efficient and methodical.

"hi there!" you chirp, mustering up a cheerful tone despite the girl's indifferent demeanor.

"hi," she mumbles in response, her voice flat and devoid of enthusiasm.

you watch her for a moment, noting the tension in her shoulders and the furrow of concentration on her brow. there's a sense of guardedness about her that you pick up on.

with a sigh, you resign yourself to the awkward silence that hangs between you, that you aren’t sure if only you feel. but as you watch her unpack her things from your spot on the bed, you can’t help but wonder about your new roommate.

she carries herself with the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to being the center of attention, yet there's a subtle tension in her demeanor. her long hair cascades down her back in waves, framing her face like a curtain of silk. a brown plaid headband sits atop her head, adding a touch of preppy sophistication. she wears a white blouse that fits her frame, its sleeves rolled up to reveal slender wrists adorned with delicate gold bracelets. a brown, plaid skirt matches her headband and tucks in her blouse. tt's as if she carries herself with a sense of quiet authority, a reminder of the privilege and power that comes with her old-money upbringing.

as suddenly as the girl appears, she quickly disappears. throwing her empty bags into a pile on the floor before she’s opening and closing the door, her long hair blowing as she slams it shut after her.

left alone again in your room, you huff and decide that it’s time to unpack.. you hadn’t thought your first encounter with your roommate would be so dull and brief. but what could you do? maybe you just weren’t as used to the rich lifestyle as you imagined.

with your packing finally complete, a pang of hunger gnaws at your stomach, reminding you that it was almost dinner time.

you realize that you had no idea where the dining hall was once you step outside your dorm room. but decided to follow the crowds of students that are talking and walking together in the same direction. you easily fall into step behind them, anxiousness building up in your empty stomach.

but as you round a corner and catch sight of the dining hall up ahead, a wave of relief washes over you.

you step into the dining hall, the glow of chandeliers casting patterns of light and shadow across the room. large windows line one wall, allowing the soft light of dusk to filter in and bathe the space in a golden hue. the flickering flames of candles add to the cozy ambiance, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

the room has four long rows of tables, each adorned with pristine white tablecloths and gleaming silverware. plates are neatly arranged in front of each chair, awaiting the arrival of hungry students eager to partake in the evening meal.

at the front of the room, a long table sits perpendicular to the rows of tables, its surface adorned with an array of decadent dishes and platters. older adults, probably some staff or professors, are seated around the table, engaged in conversation.

you stand at the entrance, not knowing what to do next.

a man with a scowl etched on his face suddenly appears beside you, his tall figure looming over you. aAre you new?" he grumbles, his voice low and gruff.

"uh, yes sir," you reply, feeling a pang of nervousness at his stern demeanor.

"what year are you in?" he demands, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"second year," you answer, your voice barely above a whisper.

the man lets out a sigh similar to an annoyed huff. "second years sit at the second table from the left," he instructs, pointing towards a table where some students are already seated.

"thank you, sir," you mumble gratefully, relief flooding through you as you follow his directions.

you settle into a seat at the back of the table, closer to the entrance doors, where the light spills in from the hallway. The shiny silverware catches your eye, gleaming under the soft glow of the chandeliers above. you reach out tentatively, running your fingers along the smooth surface of the plate before you.

your reflection stares back at you, crisp and clear on the plate. It's a strange sensation, seeing yourself mirrored in such opulent surroundings. you've never encountered plates and forks so expensive before, you were nervous to touch the spoons.

someone suddenly plops down beside you with a perky "hi!" you turn in shock to see a girl flashing you a bright smile. her presence radiating an air of elegance and sophistication that fits perfectly with all the other students you’ve seen.

she has flawless porcelain skin that seems to glow under the soft lighting of the dining hall. her eyes, framed by long lashes, sparkle with warmth and friendliness as she greets you. long, silky hair cascades down her back in gentle waves, adding to her ethereal aura.

despite her glamorous exterior, there's a genuine warmth to minju that puts you at ease.

“i’m minju.” the girl smiles at you, her eyes turning into upside smiles as she does so.

“hi, i’m y/n.”

“ooh, i like that name! but i don’t think we’ve ever met, right?”

you shake your head no, “no, i’m new.”

minju gasps loudly, her hands reaching out to grab your forearm, “oh my god! no way! what school did you go to before?”

“uh, woodcrest springs.”

minju pouts, her pretty features not affected, “i’ve never heard of that one before. how much is tuition?”

you want to smile at her question, but you know she’s being serious. “nothing, i went to public school.”

minju’s jaw drops like you’ve told her the secret to the end of the world. you expect her to get up and walk away from you. but you’re surprised that she stays put, her pretty smile returning to her pretty face.

“really? i’ve never met someone who’s gone to public school before. what’s it like?”

you can hardly believe her words. but you know that her seemingly level of elegance didn’t come from someone who hung out with public school kids all her life. before you can answer her, someone sits down from across you both. you instantly notice that it’s your roommate.

“oh my god, heejin! this is y/n, she went to public school.!” minju nods with a smile as she informs your roommate, heejin, about you.

heejin props her chin on her hand as she glances from minju to you and then back to minju, simply shrugging at minju’s words.

minju tsks from beside you and then turns to you again, “y/n, this is heejin– we’re best friends.”

you make an ‘O’ shape with your mouth as you let out an acknowledgment, “yeah, i met her earlier, we’re roommates.”

“what?” minju’s voice yelled, causing you to jerk in surprise, everyone in the room looking your way except for heejin who seems to be use to minju’s loudness. “heejin, you didn’t tell me you met your roommate.” minju’s voice comes out in a whine.

heejin shrugs again, looking at her freshly painted manicure, “didn’t come up.”

minju pouts at her answer.

“right, we didn’t exactly, talk, the last time we saw each other.” you spoke awkwardly, remembering how heejin barely looked your way.

“i don’t exactly talk to anyone.”

“except for me!” minju sing songs beside you, smiling at heejin who only quirks her eyebrow as she looks at her supposed best friend. minju places her hand against your forearm again, “don’t mind heejin, she’s just mad that we aren’t roommates this year.”

embarrassment suddenly fills you with her words, finally finding out why heejin was so cold to you. “o-oh, i’m sorry, can we change rooms? because you can happily take min-.”

minju laughs, “no no, it’s a new policy that we can’t pick our own roommates,” she pouts, “but this will be fun! we’ll get closer and become friends! right heejin?” you and minju turn to look at heejin, who forces a fake smile and nods to please minju.

a man's voice suddenly booms through the dining hall, drawing your attention away from your meal. you glance up to the front of the room and see a figure clad in a fresh, black suit standing at a podium in front of the tables.

the dining hall has become full, not one table spot is empty across all four tables. the students murmurs fade into silence to listen to the man.

the man steps forward, his voice commanding attention as he introduces himself. "good evening, students. I'm dean kinglsey,"

a collective murmur ripples through the crowd as dean kinglsey begins to outline the rules for the year. "firstly," he declares, "there will be no roommate changes allowed. you've been assigned your roommates for the duration of the term."

"secondly," dean kinglsey continues, "there will be no boys in the girls' dorms, and no girls in the boys' dorms. this rule is non-negotiable."

a wave of groans washes over the students, accompanied by a few muttered complaints.

"thirdly, starting tomorrow, everyone must wear their uniforms,"

"and lastly," dean kinglsey concludes, "we have a three-strike policy. if you break any of these rules three times, you will be expelled. in addition, be sure to be at class on time or you will be served detention if you do not have a late note."

"remember," dean kingsley's voice softens slightly, a hint of warmth infusing his tone, "while rules are important, so is enjoying your time here. have a safe school year, students. keep up with your academics, but don't forget to make memories along the way."

he pauses, letting his words sink in before concluding, "now, I urge you all to have a good dinner and get plenty of rest. tomorrow is a new day, filled with endless possibilities. make the most of it." with a final nod, Dean Kingsley steps away from the podium.

suddenly, a dozen servers emerge from the kitchen, each carrying an array of tantalizing dishes. they begin placing plates atop the already gleaming silverware adorning your table. the food before you is definitely the most luxurious in both appearance and aroma that you have ever seen. there’s vibrant vegetables and delicate garnishes on the plates, something your parents never did.

from the table behind you, a voice calls out heejin’s name, drawing both of your attention. you turn to see a boy from the third year's table, a smirk playing on his lips as he addresses her.

"how was your summer?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. then, with a sly grin, “did you finally perfect your resting bitch face?”

heejin’s expression darkens, her features contorting into a scowl as she shoots the boy a glare.

“heeseung, eat your food.” minju whines out to the boy.

“yeah heeseung, eat your food before i knock out your teeth.”

heeseung grins at heejin’s answer before turning around so his back is to you guys again.

“who was that?” you ask them, shocked by how rude he was.

heejin groans from across you at your question.

“lee heeseung,” minju speaks, “heejin’s brother.”

“half brother.” heejin clarifies before stuffing her mouth with her fork.

“right,” minju nods, “half brother.”

from the corner of your eye, you catch the dining hall door open, the heads of the sitting students turn subtly in the direction of it. all of them watching a boy who saunters in late. the loud chatter then mixes with whispers as the boy approaches the tables. he moves with nonchalant as he’s dressed in the most casual attire you’ve seen today.

he approaches the tables and casually greets heeseung behind heejin who could care less about the boy who has everyones head turning. with a nod, heeseung gestures for a guy at your table to move so the boy could sit there instead. there’s a grunt of protest from the other guy, but he begrudgingly moves to sit closer to the front.

the boy sits down into the seat so he’s diagonally back to back with heeseung. the boy shakes his head at heeseung, his voice is low when he murmurs, “you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“what?” heeseung reaches to grab the boy on the shoulder, “c’mon jake, i haven’t seen you all summer. you don’t want to sit close to me?”

the boy– jake, rolls his eyes at heeseung before he picks up the fork in front of him to eat.

from across the table, you feel a shift in the atmosphere, a gentle tug of awareness that draws your gaze to meet jake’s. his soft brown eyes, warm and mysterious, lock with your own, and for a moment, the bustling chatter of the dining hall fades into the background. you find yourself unable to look away from his gaze, by the silent exchange of curiosity passes between you.

his features are illuminated by the soft glow of the room. you notice the gentle curve of his plush, pink lips, sealed tight in a quiet contemplation as he returns your gaze with unwavering intensity.

minju's hand wraps around your arm again, her grip firm yet strangely comforting as she leans in closer. "so, where are you from?" she asks, her words tumbling out in a rapid stream before you have a chance to respond. without waiting for an answer, she launches into a litany of cities she's lived in, her voice a blur of names and memories.

your gaze drifts involuntarily to jake, seated across the table, but his attention is elsewhere. his eyes remain fixed on his plate, his expression unreadable as if you've become invisible to him in that moment.

as minju continues to recount her experiences, you struggle to focus on her words, your mind wandering back to the boy across the table. there's a sense of longing in his silence, a quiet intensity that leaves you yearning to learn more. and as you try to listen to minju's stories, a part of you can't help but wonder more about who this jake boy is.

midway through your breakfast on the first day of classes, as you sit with heejin, minju and minju’s roommate, your attention is drawn to the entrance of the dining hall. a hush falls over the room as jake and a group of boys make their way inside, their presence commanding attention as heads turn in their direction.

you can't help but notice the curious glances and whispered conversations that fill through the room at the sight of jake. there's an undeniable aura of mystery surrounding him, a silent intrigue that seems to follow him wherever he goes.

as you watch from afar, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to jake than meets the eye. and as the buzz of conversation resumes around you, you can’t focus on heejin’s story of her summer vacation in the maldives.

“that’s jake.” minju’s voice speaks from beside you. the mention of his name makes you rip your eyes away from him and onto your new friend instead. her and lia laugh at your shocked expression while heejin only quietly smirks. “you think he’s cute?”

“what? no.” you shake your head, hoping your cheeks don’t go bright red. “it’s just, why does everyone stop and look at him all the time? and whisper?” you notice how all three of the girls seemingly give each other knowing looks that you can’t understand. minju sighs from beside you before she speaks again.

“jake is a year older than us, but last year, he failed a bunch of classes.”

lia nods, “yeah, and then he got three strikes,” her tone grave, “so he was expelled.”

“he should be expelled.” heejin mumbles into her cereal.

you can’t help but ask the obvious question, “so if he should be expelled, why is he here and sitting at the second-year table?”

“well that’s the thing, he shouldn’t be here,” lia remarks, her voice tinged with a hint of disbelief.

minju nods in agreement, chiming in with her own observation. "yeah, you heard dean kingsley, they are very strict with the three-strike policy," she adds, her tone somber.

"but," lia continues, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, "there are rumors about how jake's mom hooked up with the dean so jake wouldn't get expelled."

“what? that’s not what i heard.” minju pouts at lia.

“what? what did you hear?” lia tilts her head in confusion.

“i heard,” heejin says from her corner, “that jake’s mom let dean kingsley stay in their monaco mansion for the summer.”

“yeah!” minju nodded excitedly, “that’s what i heard, too!”

at their rumours, you glance over at jake who’s stood beside the third year table, talking to a group of boys. his face is expressionless as he watches his friends converse amongst each other. the rumors of why he didn't get expelled only fuel your curiosity about him.

“what did he do to get three strikes?” you ask the group of girls. the three of them hold back their laughs, shaking their heads as they continue to eat. “what? c’mon tell me.”

“what didn’t he do?” lia speaks sarcastically.

minju laughs as she turns to look at you, “well one strike was from when he rearranged all of dean kingsley’s furniture in the middle of the night.”

“what?” you ask in disbelief.

“yeah, he put his couch in front of the door so he couldn’t even open it from the hallway.” lia smirked at the memory.

“the second strike was when him and his friends, like heeseung, snuck food out from the kitchen and had a whole feast in the library at midnight.” minju told you, explaining that all the books on the shelf had ketchup on them.

“then, third one, which jake insists he didn’t do,” lia put her hands up, “was spray paint the entire courtyard, the fountain was gushing rainbow coloured water.”

“but what really got him expelled was that he had failed all his classes.” lia stated, “which is weird because he used to be the top of the class during first year.”

you go back into silence as lia and minju start to complain about the uniforms you have to wear. you couldn’t care to complain about the uniform you had always dreamed of wearing. but you also couldn’t stop thinking about jake. his seemingly calm presence was so different from the troublemaker the girls had explained to you. you didn’t understand how the quiet, almost lonely looking boy could have been practically expelled.

the bell rings, signaling that classes are about to start, making you forget about jake for the time being and worry about not getting lost in the long hallways.

but of course you still rush down the hallway, your footsteps echoing against the polished floors, you curse under your breath, knowing you're already late for your first class. pushing open the door, you find the room hushed and all eyes turn to you. your teacher's stern gaze meets yours.

"and what's your name?" she demands sharply.

"Y/N Y/L/N, i'm new," you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.

"well, mrs. Y/L/N, are you going to be late every day? because then you'll be quickly given three strikes," she warns, her tone firm.

"no, mrs.," you murmur, feeling the weight of her disapproval.

with a curt nod, she gestures for you to find a seat, the unspoken threat of consequences lingering in the air as you settle in, determined not to make the same mistake again. “consider this your first and final warning then, mrs y/l/n.”

head bowed, you try to blend into your seat, the flush of embarrassment still staining your cheeks as the teacher launches into the lesson. But just as you start to relax, the door creaks open once more, and your heart skips a beat when you see jake slip in.

"mr. sim, late on your first day?" the teacher's voice is sharp, cutting through the classroom.

"yes, mrs., sorry," jake mumbles, his tone subdued.

"don't say sorry to me, it's your parents who you will have to say sorry to when you're expelled. next time you are late, i'll give you a strike. go and sit down," the teacher retorts, her tone firm and uncompromising.

you can't help but steal a glance at jake as he retreats to a seat, noticing the flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he lowers his gaze, mirroring your own discomfort. he's in his school uniform, but there's an air of rebellion about him—the tie around his neck slightly too loose for the dean’s liking. his hair is tousled, like he had just gotten out of bed. but it was refreshing to see since everyone else was too pristine and perfect looking.

you shift once he settles into the seat diagonally behind you. with a quick glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet his unexpectedly. though strangely, neither of you can look away. it's only when the sharp sound of the teacher slamming a textbook down on her table jolts through the classroom that your eyes retreat, returning to the safety of your desk.

you tell yourself to ignore jake's presence and listen to the teacher. your scholarship would not allow you to be distracted this year. you remind yourself of the importance of focusing on your studies, of making the most of this opportunity that your parents had worked so hard to provide. as much as curiosity tugs at your thoughts, you force your attention back to the front of the classroom, where the teacher's voice drones on about the subject matter.

after what felt like an eternity of being lost in the halls of sterling academy during the first week of school, you had thought you had learnt your way around. but once again, you found yourself rushing through the labyrinthine halls of sterling academy, trying desperately to get to class. once you find your english literature class again, you take a moment to catch your breath, mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable reprimand from your teacher.

pushing open the door, you stepped into the classroom, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. all eyes turned to you as you made your entrance, the weight of their scrutiny heavy upon you.

the teacher, a stern-looking figure with a stack of papers in hand, fixed you with a disapproving glare. "and what excuse do you have for being late this time, miss y/l/n?" she inquired, her voice tinged with annoyance.

you offered a sheepish smile, feeling the weight of your tardiness pressing down upon you. "i-i'm sorry, ma'am," you stammered, struggling to find the right words. "i got lost again."

the teacher's expression softened slightly, though her disapproval remained evident. "very well, miss y/l/n," she conceded, her tone stern. "but let this be the last time. we don't tolerate tardiness here at sterling academy. now sit down, people have already picked their partners for the project."

you nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment wash over you. taking your seat, you looked around the classroom, noticing that everyone has in fact found a partner.

just as you were about to accept the fact that you would have to do the project alone, the door swung up again. just like last week, jake walked into english literature late. his tie was even looser this week.

“mr sim!” your teacher called his name in disappointment. “have you really not learnt your lesson from the previous year! you must be in class on time!”

jake was out of breath when he spoke, “i’m sorry mrs, i am, i ran here.”

your teacher sighed over her shoulder, making eye contact with you before she spoke to jake again, “fine, one hour detention tonight, no strike. but you’ll have to partner with the other tardy student, mrs y/l/n.”

a jolt of surprise courses through you at the mention of your name, your heart quickening in your chest. you feel a sudden rush of nervousness, unsure of what to expect as you await jake's response.

across the room, jake's gaze flickers to yours, his expression unreadable. for a moment, the world seems to stand still as your eyes meet, an unspoken tension hanging in the air between you.

then, with a simple nod to the teacher, jake begins to make his way over to where you're sitting. you watch him approach, his movements fluid and deliberate, a sense of quiet confidence exuding from him.

before you know it, he's standing beside you, his presence looming large in your peripheral vision. his proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

without a word, jake takes the empty seat beside you. you find yourself holding your breath, the air thick with anticipation as you wait for him to speak. but instead of saying anything, jake simply offers you a small, almost imperceptible smile before turning his attention to the task at hand. as the teacher begins to outline the details of the project.

after the class ends, the echo of the bell fading into the background, you gather your belongings as the rest of the students file out of the room.

out of the corner of your eye, you see that jake is still standing beside you.

when he speaks, he cuts straight to the chase, his voice calm yet direct. "when will you be able to finish your part of the project?" he asks, his gaze steady as it meets yours.

caught slightly off guard by his straightforwardness, you stumble over your words for a moment "uh, pretty quickly."

a faint nod of approval is his response, his expression unreadable as he takes in your answer. "good, i want the project done as soon as possible." he says simply, his words carrying a weight of expectation that hangs in the air between you.

with that, jake turns on his heel and strides out of the classroom, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder. you watch him go, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

later in the week as you walk back to your dorm with minju and heejin, the day's events behind you, minju drops a bombshell that sends a jolt of surprise through your system. "oh, by the way, y/n, jake sim asked me what your dorm number is today."

"what? why?" you blurt out, unable to conceal the shock in your voice.

minju, ever nonchalant, shrugs in response. "i don't know, he was probably just curious."

"curious about what?" you press, your curiosity piqued and your mind racing with possibilities.

"maybe he wants to ask you to the semi-dance!" minju suggests with a mischievous glint in her eyes, shaking your arm in excitement.

"he definitely does not," you retort, dismissing the notion outright.

however, heejin interjects with her usual monotone delivery, "well, I think you're gonna have to ask him what he wants."

"why's that?" you question, genuinely perplexed by their cryptic comments.

bBecause he's currently leaning against our door," heejin deadpans, her annoyance evident in her tone. when you look up towards your dorm down the hall, the sight confirms her words. there's jake, casually leaning against your door, engrossed in a textbook.

as you draw closer to your dorm room, jake's eyes flick up from his textbook, locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. heejin strides past him without so much as a word, she lets the door swing shut behind her with a resounding slam.

meanwhile, Minju greets jake with her trademark bubbly tone, seemingly unfazed by the abrupt intrusion.

"hi, jake! what’re you doing here?" she chirps, her enthusiasm in stark contrast to heejin's personality. your gaze shifts between the two of them, caught between curiosity and apprehension.

jake smiles the first genuine smile you’ve seen from him as he looks down at minju. “y/n and i are partners for a project.”

minju gasps, “what? y/n you didn’t tell me that!” you shrug in response, feeling awkward in between them. “what class?”

“english literature.” jake replies before he looks at you. “do you want to meet at the library tomorrow?”

you unexpectedly look between minju and jake. minju’s bright smile is gleaming in between you and jake. “uh, sure.”

with a subtle nod of approval, jake begins to retreat down the hallway, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. you and minju watch in silence as he gradually recedes from view.

minju's cheerful voice pierces the quiet, "bye, jake!" she calls out, her tone infused with genuine warmth as she waves after him with unabashed enthusiasm. jake offers a brief wave in return, a fleeting gesture, before continuing on his way without looking back.

left alone in the hallway with minju you couldn’t help but question if you were grateful or not for being late to class yesterday.

as you bid farewell to minju and step into your dorm room, you find heejin lounging on her bed. with a sigh, you begin to remove your jewelry, catching heejin's reflection in the mirror as she watches you. her eyes meet yours, and she offers a pointed remark, "don't get too obsessed with jake sim."

you scoff lightly, surprised by her blunt comment. "what? i'm not obsessed with him," you retort, feeling a touch defensive.

heejin raises an eyebrow skeptically, her expression unreadable. "right, so what's with that dazed expression on your face?" she counters, her tone teasing yet observant.

glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you notice a hint of preoccupation lingering in your features. frowning slightly, you shake your head in denial. "i'm not obsessed with jake sim, heejin," you insist, trying to convince both her and yourself.

heejin lets out a noncommittal murmur, her response dismissive as she rolls over in bed. "whatever," she mutters under her breath, signaling an end to the conversation as she turns away.

you brush off heejin's words, convinced that she doesn't understand your intentions. her comment about jake sim doesn't sit well with you, but you push it aside. after all, you're not here at sterling academy to obsess over a boy who almost got expelled last year. you're here to focus on your studies and make the most of your education. jake may be intriguing, but he's not the reason you're here. you remind yourself of the countless hours of hard work and dedication that brought you to this prestigious academy.

with that final thought, you decide it's time to call it a night. tomorrow is a new day, and with it, a project to work on with jake sim.

you feel your nerves mix around as you wait for jake to arrive. the library is quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. you glance around, noting the rows of bookshelves and the sunlight filtering in through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor.

you tap your pen on the book you’ve been assigned to read. the red nail polish on your fingers serves as a reminder of your nervous habit of picking at your nails when you're stressed. you make a mental note to stop, but find yourself doing it unconsciously as you wait. the color matches the red on the book cover of ‘Rebecca’ by daphne du maurier.

you startle when jake suddenly appears beside you, his simple greeting catching you off guard. pulling your fingers away from each other, you look up to find him standing there, wearing his school uniform with his tie slightly loose. you note that his hair looks more brushed today, a small detail that doesn't go unnoticed.

quietly, you return his greeting with a simple "hi," your voice barely above a whisper. as he sits down across from you, you feel a sense of tension dissipating,

jake pulls out his copy of "Rebecca" and asks if you've read the book.

you nod, a simple "yeah" slipping from your lips. you always have a lack of words when jake speaks to you.

his gaze meets yours, a silent question lingering in his eyes, “when?”

you give a nonchalant shrug, “last year or something."

there's a flicker of something in jake's expression, almost like he's impressed, but he quickly masks it with a casual shrug. he pulls out his laptop from his backpack and sets it on the table.

“have you read it?”

jake nods immediately, “yeah, my dad used to read it to me when i was younger.”

you don’t say anything at the mention of his dad. but you realize that your friends have only ever told you about jake’s mom. not necessarily respectable things about his mom. you lean back in your chair, watching as jake's eyes scan the empty page before you both. he looks so focused, so sure of himself. meanwhile, you can feel the anxiety bubbling up inside you, making it hard to concentrate.

"so, I was thinking we could start by outlining our approach. what do you think?" jake's voice cuts through the silence, and you snap back to attention, trying to push aside your nerves.

"uh, yeah, sure. sounds good," you mumble, your words coming out quieter than you intended, shifting uncomfortably.

"great," he replies, his tone brisk and efficient. "did you have any ideas for how we should structure it?"

you rack your brain for a response, but all you can come up with is a hesitant, "maybe we could... uh, divide the sections?"

jake nods, seemingly unfazed by your lack of input. "Yeah, that makes sense. We can each take a section and then compare notes. How about you work on the first part, and I'll work on the second?"

you hesitate for a moment before nodding in agreement. "okay, sounds good," you manage to say, your voice betraying your nerves.

"perfect," jake says, already turning his attention back to the task at hand. "snd we can meet up another time to put our section together."

"yeah, sure." you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. you watch as jake starts typing away on his laptop, his fingers moving swiftly across the keys.

you and jake work diligently on your project, the rhythm of your typing filling the air around you. as the afternoon wears on, jake suddenly glances at his watch and groans.

"i've got to go, i promised sunghoon i’d help him with his paper." he says, starting to gather his belongings.

you nod in understanding, pretending to know who sunghoon was. "yeah, no problem," you reply, trying to hide your confusion.

before he leaves, jake turns to you with a serious expression. "we'll have to make sure we get a good grade on this, for both of our sakes,"

confused, you furrow your brow. "what do you mean?"

jake hesitates for a moment, then meets your gaze head-on. "i mean, you are the scholarship girl, right?"

you're taken aback by his blunt question, but you nod, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "yeah, i am," you admit, unable to meet his eyes.

jake nods in acknowledgment and continues to pack his bag.

"and you are the boy who should've gotten expelled last year, right?" the words slip out before you can stop them, and you instantly regret saying them.

to your surprise, jake stops and turns his gaze to look at you, a knowing smirk starting to creep onto his face. "yeah, i am,"

you nod and lean back in your chair. he stands up once his bag is re-packed.

“see you later, scholarship girl.” you watch him leave with a mixture of confusion and amusement, smiling to yourself as you gather your own things.

it’s days later when, minju, lia, heejin and you are sitting in the dining hall, textbooks spread out on the table before you as you study while waiting for dinner. the room is relatively quiet, with only a few students scattered around, either engrossed in their own work or engaged in quiet conversation.

minju breaks the silence with a question, her voice soft but curious. "how is your project with jake going?" she asks, glancing up from her notes.

you give a nonchalant shrug, "it's good," you reply simply, glancing over at heejin.

satisfied with your answer, minju nods and returns her focus to her studies. sensing an opportunity, you hesitantly ask, "can i ask you guys something?" drawing their attention back to you. they all nod in unison. you take a deep breath, "do you think it's true that jake's mom did something in order for him not to get expelled?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

lia is the first to respond, her expression thoughtful. "i mean, it would make sense that he of all people wouldn't get expelled," she reasons, echoing the suspicions that have been circulating among the students.

you furrow your brow, puzzled by her statement. "what do you mean?"

heejin jumps in before lia can respond, her tone matter-of-fact. "she means because jake's family is the wealthiest family in the state," she explains, “his dad invented some medical imaging technology that advanced the whole MRI machinery.”

"yeah, but then he died," minju states somberly.

“what?” your jaw dropped, looking around the table at your friends’ faces. “how?”

“it was a car accident.”

“yeah, that he did on purpose.” lia states with a firm nod.

heejin only rolls her eyes at the two of them, obviously not caring about the conversation.

“what happened?” you ask them.

lia sighs, “his dads car was found smashed in a river.”

before you can ask more questions, the bell for dinner rings and a large group of students starts to walk in the dining hall. the four of you start to pack away your textbooks, making room for the meal that was about to commence.

as the dining hall starts to fill up, you catch jake’s eye from down the long table, a small smile forming on his lips as he rests his head on his fist. for a brief moment, it feels like just the two of you in the bustling dining hall. but as quickly as it came, the moment fades as the staff brings plates and obstructs your view. when you look up again, jake is engrossed in conversation with the boys around him, as if you're nothing more than a passing thought.

as the noise of the dining hall grows louder, you push aside any lingering thoughts of jake and focus on enjoying your meal.

you're sitting at your desk, the soft glow of your desk lamp casting a warm light on the papers scattered in front of you. you're finishing your homework, the quiet of the evening wrapping around you like a blanket. suddenly, there's a knock at your door, breaking the silence. you glance up, figuring it was minju coming to ask for homework help.

as you open the door, you’re surprised to see jake standing in the hallway, looking slightly disheveled and out of breath. his expression is urgent, and you can tell something's wrong.

"hey," he says, his voice rushed. "i need your help with something."

you furrow your brow, taken aback by his sudden appearance. “sure, what's going on?" you ask, stepping aside to let him in. he entered quickly, his movements hurried. both of you forgetting about the rule of no gender mixing in dorm rooms.

"i accidentally deleted part of the paper we were working on," he explains, his tone frantic. "it's due tomorrow, and I don't have time to redo it. can you help me?"

you sigh, but nod, “sure, sit down.”

jake sighs in relief, sinking onto your bed as he relaxes slightly. "thank you," he says, gratitude evident in his voice.

you glance at the clock, realizing that heejin won’t be back to the dorm for a few hours since she’s at her debate club. you know how mad she would get if she saw jake in her dorm, sitting on your bed.

both of you hunch over your own laptops, fingers flying across the keys as you rush to finish your project. The task at hand is clear, but your mind keeps wandering, drawn to the presence of jake beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you steal glances at him as he sits on your bed, his posture relaxed yet focused. His eyes roam around your dorm room, taking in the details of your surroundings. You wonder what thoughts are swirling in his mind as he gazes at the walls adorned with posters and the shelves filled with books.

A sudden self-consciousness washes over you, and you find it hard to concentrate on the project at hand. jake's presence seems to fill the room, his energy palpable even in the quiet stillness of the evening. You can't help but wonder what he thinks of your space, if he finds it welcoming or if it feels foreign to him.

Despite your efforts to concentrate, your thoughts keep drifting back to jake, his presence a subtle distraction that pulls at your attention.

jake's voice breaks the silence, his words carrying a gentle curiosity as he picks up a framed photograph from the nightstand. "Who are they?" he asks, his eyes lingering on the image of your parents captured in a frozen moment of time.

With a soft smile, you reply, "My parents," the simplicity of your answer belying the complexity of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

Setting the photograph back down, jake's gaze shifts to you, his eyes holding a quiet intensity as he asks, "What city are you from anyways?" Your response is straightforward, "The town that's down the street," the familiarity of home echoing in your words.

Surprise flickers across jake's features as he realizes the proximity of your upbringing to Sterling Academy. "Right over there?" he questions, gesturing vaguely in the direction of your hometown. When you nod in affirmation, his expression reflects a mixture of disbelief and intrigue.

"So you've always seen this school then," he remarks, a note of realization coloring his tone. Your affirmative nod only deepens the gravity of the moment, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air between you.

"Did you always want to go here?" jake's question pulls you back to the present, his voice breaking through the quietude of the room.

With a hesitant nod, you acknowledge, "Yes, it was my dream to.”

“why would your dream be to come here?”

“what’s wrong with dreaming to come here?”

jake sighs and lays down on your bed so his feet are still on the floor. you feel your heart pick up pace as he stares at the ceiling.

“i don’t know, i hate this place.”

“so,” you’re hesitant to ask the question, “does that mean that you tried to get expelled last year?”

you watch jake smile at your question, his eyes stay examining your ceiling, trying to find a crack in it to show that this building isn’t as perfect as it seems, but finds none.

“no, i didn’t try to get expelled. i just wanted to have fun. it’s so boring here.”

you glance over your shoulder at him, “i think it’s fun here.”

jake meets your eyes for the first time, “it’s because you’re new, give it another week and you’ll see what i mean.”

“no,” you instantly shake your head, “i’ve always wanted to live like this.” jake sits up on his elbows at your words. a perplexed expression covers his face as he takes in your argument. you can tell he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. “just say it.” you tell him.

“so, without the scholarship, you really wouldn’t be able to come here?”

“no,” you retort with a snort, “i’m broke, jake. this place is perfect.”

“well this lifestyle isn’t as perfect as you think.”

you turn in your chair to look at him, your bodies facing each other now. he looks so comfortable and casually sprawled across your bed, his bangs falling in his eyes as he looks at you.

“what do you mean? you get to live in houses that are basically castles, and wear nice clothes and eat all this fancy food that i’ve never even heard of before.”

just as jake’s mouth opens to respond, you hear the door open behind you. jake abruptly stands at heejin’s unexpected return. as you turn to look at her, you instantly catch the flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she surveys the scene before her, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval.

you feel a pang of disappointment at the interruption as you meet eyes with jake.

heejin’s disapproving gaze lingers for a moment longer before she continues to walk to her bed, her back facing both of you as she starts to unpack her school page.

you feel a flush of embarrassment rise in your cheeks for some reason. an unspoken acknowledgement of the unspoken boundaries that have been breached. jake, ever composed, offers polite greeting to her, which she ignores. he starts to move to leave, packing his own bag and swinging it over his shoulder.

“see you, y/n.” jake’s hand reaches out and brushes against your shoulder in a farewell. leaving behind a burning sensation on your skin where his fingers touched so gently. you mumble a goodbye as he leaves your dorm room, shutting the door ever so quietly.

you sit down on your bed, glancing over at heejin’s hunched over shoulders, waiting for her to snap at you. but only, her snap doesn’t appear. she just reaches over and turns off her bedside lamp before crawling into her own bed for the night.

you sigh but copy her movements, figuring that she was too tired from debate club that she would just confront you tomorrow. which you were sort of grateful for since you were also tired from having to rewrite jake’s part of the project.

the last thought that crosses your mind before you fall asleep is jake’s pretty lips frowning in confusion at your love of sterling academy.

after your presentation with jake is finished, you didn’t see much of him.

in english literature class, he was quick to come in and leave, never saying much but a quick ‘hello’. still, both of you found yourselves glancing at the other frequently. you wondered if you and jake would ever speak again. there was just something about jake sim that you couldn’t ignore.

one afternoon, you stayed a little longer in class to read over your english literature novel. the rest of the students had left a half hour before. your teacher had told you to make sure the window was closed before you left as she soon followed the students out. when you had had enough of ‘the bell jar’, you closed the book followed by the window and threw your bag over your shoulder.

just as you turn the corner to step into the hall, you stop, a gasp leaving your mouth as a body stands in front of you. you have to turn your head upwards to see who it is.

jake has a quirked eyebrow as he looks down at you, a smirk on his face as he’s amused by how shocked you are. you take a step back since your face was practically touching his chest. you never realized how much taller than you he was.

“oh, hi.” you speak quietly, embarrassed for almost running into him.

“hey,” jake nods, “what were you still doing in there?”

“just finishing this week’s chapter.” you turn the book in your hand over so he can see the title, “are you caught up?”

jake shrugs, “i read it last year, i’m not reading it again.”

“right.” you smile as you look down at the book in your grasp. “what’re you doing back here?”

“i forgot my sweater in the back of the class.”

“oh, okay.” you nod, “i guess, i’ll see you later or something.”

“right, see you later.”

you move around him to start walking to your dorm room until jake calls your name again. you still and turn your head over your shoulder to look at him. “yeah?”

“actually, what’re you doing right now?”

you shrug, “just going back to my dorm.”

jake changes weight on his feet as he thinks for a moment, “do you, want to study for the history test together?”

“sure.”

you followed jake away from the corridors of sterling academy. the noise of students faded into the distance as he took you outside. the soft rustle of leaves crunching with every step you took. the afternoon sun dipped low on the horizon when both of you stopped walking.

you stood in a small clearing at the edge of the school’s property, where a weathered wooden bench stood sentinel beneath the shade of a groove of trees. its age was evident in the worn slats and chipped paint, a stark contrast to the polished elegance of sterling academy.

“what’s this?”

“a bench.” jake replied, settling down onto the far right of it, already zipping open his backpack.

you followed his lead and sat on the far left of the bench as you looked around. from this vantage point, you could still see the sprawling expanse of the school grounds laid before you; manicured lawns stretching into the distant stables where the equestrian club practiced their routines.

despite the unfamiliar area, you found yourself strangely relaxing. you glance at jake beside you, his body also relaxed right into the bench as he flips through the pages of the heavy history textbook.

“you’ve come here before?” you ask him since he looks so comfortable.

“yeah, all the time.”

you jake read some of the textbook as you took in the outdoors. you haven’t been outside for longer than a run for gym class since you left home. when you were home, the only thing you would do was spend your time outside. the feeling of the gentle breeze brushing against your bare skin made you feel a sort of homesick.

“do you like it out here?”

“of course, i love being outside.”

jake nodded in agreement, “yeah, it’s nice being away from the noise and chaos of the school.”

“you really don’t like this school?”

“yeah, i hate it.” jake murmured, his gaze fixated on the building in the distance. “but out here, surrounded by the trees and the sky, and the horse shit, it’s like everything else just fades away, you know?”

you nodded, “yeah, it’s like nature heals you in a way. reminds you that there’s something bigger out there, something beyond our own worries and fears.”

“exactly, a reminder that we’re not alone in this world even if we feel like it sometimes.”

you pick at the edges of your textbook on your lap, not looking at the boy beside you. “i use to be outside all the time when i was at home.”

“really?”

“yeah, i use to garden all the time.”

jake turns his body to face you, intrigued, his textbook forgotten and closed on his lap. “you gardened? i’ve never gardened, we’ve always just had gardeners.”

you tilt your head at the information, “yeah, my mom always let me play in the mud when i was younger- i made a lot of mud pies.”

jake’s eyebrows raised, “really? my mom would’ve killed me. god forbid i got a little dirt on my church’s.”

you smirked at the mention of the brand of shoes, choosing to not mention the fact that you would have never been able to afford a pair. your different childhood memories seemed to be only a brief glimpse into how different you both were. you wondered how you could ever feel so connected to someone who comes from such a different world than you.

“dinner’s gonna start soon, wanna go back?” jake asks from his far side of the bench, his puppy features looking over at you, the sunset behind his head.

“sure,”

you walk into the busy dining hall together and separate to go to your separate groups of friends to eat. both of you ignore the confused expressions of the other students. heejin barely notices your presence as you sit down, but you can tell that minju will definitely want to know why you and jake were late to dinner together. you can only sigh at the thought of her asking for details of every second you were with jake. you only hope that her questions can begin after you have finished dinner.

every day you and jake begun to spend your time on that weathered bench at the edge of Sterling Academy’s property. it became a ritual, a sanctuary away from the bustling halls and echoing corridors of the school. and more recently, the staring and glares from other students.

some days, your laps were full with the weight of your textbooks as you studied silently side by side. only occasional murmurs were shared as you listened to the wind, the birds and the equestrian club/

other times, your voices danced freely in the open air, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant whinnying of the horses. in those moments, the bench became more than just a weathered wood and peeling paint, it was a space where you really got to know jake sim.

you looked forward to either occasion, as long as jake was there on the bench with you and despite heejin’s icy stares. you swore you could physically feel the daggers aimed at you whenever you and jake entered the dining hall late.

today, it was a quiet day as you sat beside each other, far much closer together than you had the first day jake had shown you the bench. your thighs were touching his as you both looked down at your work. you were on the last chapter of “Rebecca” as jake scribbled equations in his physics notebook.

you are at the part where the narrator and maxim stand together and look at the ruins of their grand estate, when jake speaks.

“are you excited for thanksgiving?”

you put the book down onto your lap, your thumb keeping the book open and shrug, “not really, i’m just going to be writing my book report. i’m almost done with the book now.”

jake glances at the remaining few pages of the book, “aren’t you going to be glad to see your parents?”

you pretend to keep your eyes on the words of the book as you reply, “i’m not seeing my parents.”

“what? why not?” jake sits up abruptly, his back off of the back of the bench now. you realize today was no longer going to be one of the quiet days spent together.

you close the book in your lap and look at the boy, “my mom has to go out of town to work, my dad’s going with her to make sure she’ll be safe.”

“so what? you’re just going to be alone in your house for the long weekend?”

“no, i’m going to be in my dorm doing my book report and eating dinner with salvador.” your lips curl up in a grin at the thought of sharing a meal with the janitor every student at sterling literally detests. it couldn’t be that bad with him, or so you’ve told yourself to avoid missing your parents.

“y/n no, that’s not happening,” jake shakes his head at you. with your confused expression he continues, “you’re coming home with me for the long weekend.”

your eyes widen at the book in your grasp suddenly feels even lighter. “what? no? jake i couldn’t.”

“why not?”

“because,” you grit out to him like it’s obvious.

“because why?”

you sigh, “because jake, it’s a family holiday, and i’ve never even met any of your family. and i mean, your house and family are, so… different from mine.”

jake shrugged, “so? my family won’t mind you coming, if anything they’ll be happy to see me hanging out with anyone besides heeseung. plus i need you to be there or else i’ll go crazy.” jake could see the lingering doubts that gnawed at you, “please y/n,” his pink lips pout at you.

at his puppy face and another moment of contemplation, you finally hesitant smile, “okay jake, i’ll come.”

you watch as jake stands up and cheers at your answer, smiling his grand smile at you as he tells you how much fun you’ll have together and that now he won’t have to be stuck babysitting his younger cousins alone. as you watch him, you take in the dark sky behind him and immediately stand up in shock.

“oh my god,”

“okay fine, you won’t have to entertain my cousins while i sleep, but you’re definitely going to have to– what?”

“what time is it?”

jake looks down at his patek phillippe, “shit.”

both of you scramble to get your bags and books and start to run across the dark, empty field towards the academy that has all their lights out.

inside, the corridors were shrouded in shadows and a veil of moonlight and silence. you and jake moved with gentle purpose through the halls in order to escape salvador. he always patrolled the halls like a sergeant that had just been discharged from the military. both of you knew that if you were caught you would get punished, jake’s punishment would be far worse than your own.

somehow you were hand in hand with jake as you darted from shadow to shadow. salvador’s blueish flashlight swept across the walls like a lighthouse beacon, casting fleeting glimpses of light that threatened to expose you and bounced off of jake’s cheeks.

you were too nervous to be caught to completely focus on the warmth of jake’s hand clasped firmly in yours, like either of you were scared to let go then the other would disappear. you stole glances at each other and shared silent smiles that spoke your feelings of adrenaline for you.

then, salvador’s flashlight swept perilously close to your hiding place around an open corner. your hearts pounded in unison as you and jake pressed yourselves against the wall. your bodies were inches apart yet tethered together.

despite the anxiety ridden situation, you let yourself ponder on the brief moment of intimacy as you felt the heat of jake’s presence envelop you like a cocoon. his warmth was a beacon of sun in the darkness. your nose was a mere inch away from his strong chest. you could smell his cologne more strongly now than when it would slightly blow in the wind on the bench. you just wanted him to wrap his arms around you.

as salvador’s footsteps faded into the far distance, you and jake emerged from the shadows and ran hand in hand down the empty hall, towards your dorm room. jake let out an airy “shh” as you covered your mouth with a giggle as jake dragged you along, hiding his own laughter from not getting caught.

when you’re both at your dorm room, the weight of the door pressing softly against your back as you looked up jake. his features were bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight steaming through the window, casting gentle shadows across his face that danced with the rhythm of your shared heartbeat.

reluctantly, you let go of his hand, the warmth of his touch was sucking you into him too much. unbeknownst to you, a subtle frown tugged at the corners of jake’s lips as he watched you release his hand.

“that was close,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath in the stillness of the night. jake smirked in response, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned closer, his presence enveloping you like a cloak of comfort you knew you had to resist.

“yeah i know. what am i gonna do with you?” he teased, his soft laughter mingling with soft tree branches tapping the window behind him.

As you stood there, dazed and breathless from the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, jake reached out, his hand gently cupping your jaw with a tenderness that took your breath away. His touch sends shivers down your spine, his thumb grazing your bottom lip in a gesture that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

"You know," he began, his voice a velvet caress that sent ripples of warmth cascading through your soul, "I've never felt so close to someone before." There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that laid bare the depths of his emotions in a way you had never seen before.

But before you could respond, a flash of light sliced through the darkness, Salvador's flashlight casting a shadow down the hallway. Your eyes widened in unison, the moment shattered by the intrusion of reality. With a quick and silent exchange, jake withdrew his hand from your jaw, his lips pressing against the back of your hand in a tender farewell before he was off, disappearing into the night like a phantom fleeting into the unknown.

once inside your own dorm room, you were left standing alone in the wake of his departure, you lingered for a moment longer, the memory of his touch lingering like an echo in the chambers of your heart. with a sigh, you push off of the door and walk lazily towards your bed. your thoughts were consumed by the enigma of jake sim and his feelings towards you.

“were you with jake?” heejin’s voice suddenly speaks from across the room, your body stilling for a second as you forgot you weren’t alone in this dorm room. with your lack of response she sighs and rolls over to look at you through the dark room. your eyes had adjusted to the room so you could see your roommate clearly. “he’s not good for you, y/n.”

you sigh and roll flat onto your back, your arms coming up to lay on both sides of your head as you look straight up at the tall ceiling of your ancient room. her words hung in the air and you knew she was right. you and jake came from different worlds, no where should your paths have crossed in this lifetime. but somehow, your souls seemed connected in a way you couldn’t explain. though, you were certain jake didn’t feel the same. “i know that, heejin.” your voice sounded fragile.

“whatever you think is happening between you two– it’s not. wake up y/n, and focus on your studies. we wouldn’t want your scholarship contract to break, would we?”

you gulped at her harsh words and remained silent, your eyes still open. heejin sighs from her bed and rolls over so her back is turned to you.

Left alone with your thoughts, you lay there in the suffocating silence, the weight of Heejin's warning pressing down upon you like a leaden shroud. And as sleep claimed you, you drifted into the realm of dreams, haunted by the specter of unrequited longing and the bitter sting of reality.

you sat in the dining hall with heejin, minju and lia the next morning. your warm oatmeal was steaming out of the bowl in front of you as you ate breakfast together. though your friends were talking, you could only focus on the 3rd year table across the room.

a girl with cascading brown locks, a sleek jaw and pretty eyes sat amidst a group of her peers, her gaze focused upon you with a searing intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"Who's that?" you asked, nodding subtly in the direction of the girl who had captured your attention. Minju's cheerful demeanor faltered for a moment before she responded, her tone tinged with caution.

"That's Kim Nakyoung," she replied, her voice soft but tinged with an underlying tension. You furrowed your brow in confusion, the weight of Nakyoung's piercing stare still lingering in the air like an invisible shadow.

"well why is kim nakyoung staring at me?" you pressed, your curiosity piqued as you searched for answers. the three girls seemingly all look at each other with an expression you couldn’t quite pick up on. “what?”

heejin shakes her head, but lia answers anyways, “well because you were out late with jake sim last night,” she explained, her words hanging heavy in the air. your heart skipped a beat at the mention of jake’s name, the memory of his touch still fresh in your mind. “...and nakyoung is basically inlove with him.”

“how do you know she’s in love with him?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. heejin scoffed dismissively, but minju’s response was gentle.

"Because they're family friends," she explained, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Their parents went to college together, and they spend every holiday together. And every Valentine's Day, Nakyoung gets a Valentine's Day card from jake."

As Minju's words washed over you like a cold wave, you couldn't help but feel a pang of unease gnawing at the edges of your heart. The warmth of jake's hand on your cheek last night suddenly felt like a distant memory. heejin’s stern words from the night before rang in your mind. and suddenly you understood what she meant.

you were sure multiple girls thought jake sim was in love with them. that they had a special connection with him that they would not be able to find anywhere else. you needed to wake up, just like heejin had said.

you didn’t go to the usual bench in the afternoon. instead you found yourself enveloped in the far corner of the library. you were far too enthralled by your biology textbook to notice the time or the rest of the students fading into the background of the old library.

but suddenly, a hand latched onto the back of your chair and jake’s face swung into view over your shoulder. his puppy expression is so different from the dark expression you saw on the first day of school. his presence caught you off guard and sent a jolt of surprise coursing through your veins.

jake settled into the seat beside you with an easy grin, his infectious laughter echoing through the hallowed bookshelves. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, his voice warm and familiar. “i’ve been looking for you. don’t wanna go outside today?”

you shrugged nonchalantly, your gaze flickering back to your textbooks as you struggled to maintain your composure in the wake of jake’s sudden appearance. you knew he was going to press you further according to the concern etched into the lines of his brow.

“what’s wrong?” jake’s voice was soft, tinged with genuine concern as he searched your eyes for answers. frustration welled up within you like a tide. there was a large tangled web of emotions and doubts within your core. you wanted to reach out to him and tell him everything’s fine and that you can’t wait to go to his house for the long weekend. but then the other part of you forced you to remember heejin’s warning and nakyoung’s glare. part of you wondered how many other signs you had missed about jake and how the rest of the school viewed him.

"i'm just trying to focus on my schoolwork," you muttered, your words tinged with bitterness as you struggled to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to spill forth. "Not all of us have rich families that can pay off our pasts to go to school here."

the words hung heavy in the air between you, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of unspoken truths. And as jake's incredulous gaze bore into you with an intensity that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, you knew in that moment that you had crossed a line that should have never been crossed.

with a scoff of disbelief, jake rose abruptly from his seat, his footsteps echoing like thunder against the polished floors of the library as he stormed out into the hallway, leaving you alone amidst the oppressive silence of your own making. And as the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind him, the finality of his departure reverberated through the cavernous space. you tried to ignore the aching feeling in your chest and the stares of the other students as you focused on your biology work, hoping that genetic engineering would distract you for the rest of the night.

it had been days since you had last spoken to jake in the library. he never showed up for your english literature class, the desk beside you always being left empty. the lace in heejin’s aura had seemingly drifted away, but you could still feel kim nakyoung’s glare on you during every meal.

tonight, you were attempting to study in your dorm room. heejin had left for her debate club a few minutes ago, leaving you alone in the grand room. it was dark outside thanks to fall having the sun set so early. the orange lamp on your bedside table was the only light in your room.

there was a soft knock on the door, pulling you away from your thoughts. assuming it was minju, you started to call out, "heejin's not here, min--" but the words froze in your throat as you swung open the door to find jake standing there instead. His school uniform was partially a mess like usual , a few strands of his hair falling delicately over his eyes. There was a faint smile on his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

you stood there in your pink pajamas, feeling suddenly self-conscious under jake's gaze. "Hi," he said softly, and you echoed the greeting, your voice barely above a whisper. The atmosphere was tense, awkward, and you could sense that jake was not his usual self. he was more like the jake you had known in the beginning of the year. He seemed distant, almost standoffish, as if he didn't want to be there talking to you or anybody.

jake sighed, lifting his head to meet your gaze fully. "I want to talk about what happened in the library the other day," he admitted, his tone hesitant.

you crossed your arms defensively over your chest, your resolve hardening, "There's nothing to talk about," you replied curtly.

but jake persisted, his voice growing slightly firmer. "Yes, there is," he insisted. "I want to know what made you so…”

“so what?”

“distant. You wouldn't even look at me." His words struck a nerve, and you felt a pang of guilt gnawing at your insides. You knew you should keep your distance from the boy that was standing only a meter in front of you.

jake's voice was filled with a raw vulnerability that caught you off guard. "Y/n, please, talk to me," he pleaded, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of understanding. "The past few days have been harder than I would've ever thought."

you glanced up at him, surprised by his confession. His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor. "I'm not... I'm not really used to apologizing or, whatever," he continued, his voice wavering slightly. "I don't care for it. But with you, I'm here trying, okay? I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry... And I'm sorry I left like that in the library."

you bit down on your lip, the weight of his words sinking in. A part of you wanted to push him away, to maintain the distance that you knew was necessary. But another part of you longed to open up, to let him in like your soul so strongly craved. "Just tell me what's wrong, and I can fix it," jake pleaded, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation.

"but that's the thing, there's nothing that you can fix," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. jake tilted his head in confusion, his gaze searching yours for answers. You could tell that he genuinely wanted to understand, that he was wanting to listen. "We're just... different, jake," you continued, your words careful and measured. "We live different lives, and we can't pretend that we don't. While we're alone, we're still in reality. And... and I don't know what you're doing or thinking." The weight of your insecurities hung heavy in the air, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire.

"what do you mean?" jake asked, his voice soft and gentle. You felt the tension building within you and with a shaky breath, you forced yourself to voice all your thoughts.

"I mean, why would you want to hang around with me when the whole school is in love with you?" you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

jake's tense posture softened as he stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate yet filled with an underlying urgency. You fought the instinct to step back, the proximity between you sending a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. His eyes, once distant and guarded, now bore into yours with a raw intensity that left you breathless.

"y/n, i don't care that we come from different worlds or wealths or whatever," he confessed, his voice a gentle caress that washed over you like a soothing balm. "none of that matters when I'm with you. I feel like when I'm with you, that's reality, and everything else is just a fantasy forced upon me when you're not around." you felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to him, the weight of his confession settling upon your shoulders like a heavy cloak.

"i've never felt like this with anyone," he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "every time I talk to anyone else, it's like all they see is my family and my wealth. but you... you see me for who I am, even though I don't even know who I am."

the vulnerability in his words mirrored the vulnerability in yourself, the walls you had built around yourself slowly crumbling because of his sincerity. you were acutely aware of the golden lights cascading down upon you both, casting a halo of warmth around you.

"I don't care about what the rest of the school thinks of me," jake declared, his voice unwavering in its conviction. "I only care about what you think of me."

“i, i don’t know what to say,” you tell him honestly.

jake shrugs, “you don’t have to say anything, just please don’t go so distant on me again, i hate it.”

“i won’t,” you whispered, the words barely a breath in the stillness of the night. With a surge of courage, you reached out and gently clasped his hand in your own, the warmth of his touch sending ripples of warmth cascading through your soul. "Just promise me something."

“anything.”

"promise me that you'll always be honest with me," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “promise that you’ll never hide anything from me and that you’ll always show me the real you, no matter what.”

jake's gaze softened as he squeezed your hand gently, a silent vow passing between you in the hallowed silence of the night. "i promise," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

as the golden hues of the hallway bathed us in their soft glow, you glanced down at jake's hand, noticing something shiny nestled within his grasp. "what's that?" you asked, curiosity tingling in the air between us. jake's eyes widened in realization, as if he had forgotten he was even holding anything at all. with a sudden movement, he extended his hand towards you, revealing the gleaming cover of a book.

in his palm lay a copy of "The Great Gatsby," its cover adorned with intricate gold detailing that simmered in the dim light. "this is for you," jake said, his voice soft yet sincere. "i remember you saying you ruined your copy, so you can have mine."

you were stunned, your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out to accept the gift he offered. you traced the embossed letters on the cover, marveling at the beauty of its design. “thank you so much jake,” you whispered with gratitude, “ thank you, thank you.”

unable to contain your excitement, you threw your arms around his neck, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a cocoon of comfort. his arms instinctively encircle your waist, drawing you closer until there's barely any space left between you. in that moment, everything just feels right.

pulling away from him, “do you wanna come in?”

jake agrees, knowing that heejin won’t be there to give him any glares. he follows you into your room and sits on your bed like he had before, looking around. he takes notice that you’re not in your uniform, but your matching pj set and smiles to himself as how cute you look. you take no notice, too enthralled by your new book. you sit it on your desk and sit beside jake on your bed.

“really, thank you so much for my book, it means so much to me,” you tell him, your hair slightly messy over your shoulders. jake reaches out and twists a fallen strand around his finger gently before dropping it.

“it’s no problem, i wanted to give you something,” he tells you honestly.

“but why?”

jake shrugs, “because i like you.”

“you like me?” you question him, not believing your ears. jake nods, biting his lip playfully as he takes in your reaction. he notices the pretty red start to form on your cheeks, your eyes darting from his face to your hands in your lap.

before jake could stop himself he’s breaking the small distance between you two and gently cupping your chin with his fingers for you to look at him. you open your mouth to speak but instead they are met with jake’s lips. the kiss is gentle, confident but shy at the same time. you’ve never kissed anyone before, let alone a boy who was as beautiful as jake sim.

you both pull away, your lips slightly wet from the kiss.

“sorry, i-” jake starts but you cut him off with another kiss. this time your eyes properly close as your lips meet. your hands shyly wrap around his shoulders to pull him into a deep kiss.

jake pushes you down onto your bed so your head is on your pillow. his body is overtop yours and you’re trying to not panic and only focus on his lips that are moving against yours. his hips roll down into yours and it’s then that you realize he’s turned on. you squeak at the thought and jake instantly pulls away.

“what? are you okay?” jake’s eyes are filled with concern as he looks down at you, “did i hurt you, i’m so-”

your hand covers his before he goes on a ramble, “no it’s okay. you didn’t hurt me it’s just…” you trail off, your hand falling from his face. his hands are quick to catch yours.”

“it’s just what, love?”

the name makes the tips of your ears red, “it’s just that, i’m a virgin, i’ve never done anything before.”

you feel jake’s body relax over yours and he sits up on your bed, you subconsciously follow him up so you’re both sitting again. “that’s okay, y/n, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. we can do something else, we could read the great gatsby!”

you smile at his politeness, but now that you’ve learnt what it feels like for jake sim to be on top of you, you find it hard to want to do anything else.

“i mean,” you start, a playful, shy smile growing on your face as you look at him, “i could still make you feel good.”

your wide, innocent eyes made jake’s pants tighten. he says nothing as he reaches out and traces your plush lips with his thumb. without thinking, you press your lips over his thumb, letting it enter your mouth. you kept eye contact with him, instantly watching his eyes darken.

“you wanna suck me off, love?”

you whine around his thumb, your way of saying yes.

jake pulls his thumb from your mouth, “get on your knees.”

you almost clumsily scramble to the floor of your dorm. jake’s legs are spread out for you to sit perfectly in between them. you look up at him, feeling so small as you wait for him to let you touch him.

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“i want to, jake.”

“you’ll tell me if you want to stop, right? if you get uncomfortable we can stop.”

“yes, jake.”

jake only sweetly nods to you before he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips. his hands unbutton his uniform pants, pulling the fabric down so only his boxers cover his cock. you lay your cheek against his bare thigh, watching as his hand traces over his bulge. you looked so mesmerized by his actions it made a shiver go down his spine.

“you sure you wanna?” jake asked, his voice a bit shaky. you nod your head and jake pulls out his cock so it’s visible to you both. it’s hard, a the tip is slightly leaking with precum. you can see how the tip was starting to turn pink. “hold it like how i am, you can squeeze it a bit if you want.”

you nod again, your hand reaching up and replacing his at the base of his cock. it’s warm in your hand and you try to bite back the nerves you feel as you try not to embarrass yourself in front of him.

at jake’s instruction, you start to move your hand up and down his cock. your movements are slow as you try to navigate what you were doing.

“you can spit on your hand, make it glide better.” jake nods at you. you do as he suggests, your lips pucking before letting saliva drop down onto your palm. when your hand meets his cock again, you can instantly tell that it’s a lot easier to move with it.

you hear jake let out a heavy breath as he watches you stroke his cock a bit faster now that there’s some lubricant. he watches your face so focused on making him feel good. so determined to make him cum.

you suddenly squeezed him tighter as you move up to his tip, your fingers meeting his slit slightly. he reminds himself to keep his hips still as your hand fucks his cock. “fuck,” he lets out a curse as he watches your innocent fingers circle his cock.

“you can,” jake swallows harshly, “you can put your mouth on it, when you’re ready. just, as much as you want.”

you nodded up at him, your eyes wide with curiosity. your hand stops moving as you put his tip in your mouth, your tongue meeting the underside of his cock. jake’s hands dug into your comforter on both sides of his body as he watched your little mouth take in his cock.

“a-and you can uh, hollow out your cheeks, like-” you cut jake off as you do as he says. you begin to suck with the little amount of cock you had in your mouth. your hand staying at the base of his cock. “fuck, just like that, love.”

you continue to fit more and more in your mouth the more comfortable you got at the feeling. hollowing your cheeks out and being careful of your teeth. the salty pre cum fills your tastebuds as you look up at jake, whose bottom lip is between his teeth. his eyebrows are knitted together as he looks down at you. he’s trying so hard to keep his composure so he doesn’t push you too far during your first time.

your hand continued to jerk the base of his cock as your tongue started to explore the veins on his shaft. you took your time, but jake still felt like he was in heaven. the sight of your glassy eyes and swollen lips around his cock made him more aroused than ever before.

“god, you look so beautiful y/n, like an angel.” he compliments you, his chest slowly heaving as he watches you work his dick with your mouth.

jake grabs the base of his cock, your hand and mouth sliding away, a small pout on your face as you look up at him.

“open,” jake says and you do, sticking your tongue out slightly. jake then slaps the tip of his cock against your plush, wet lips, smearing the tip in your saliva. he groans to himself at the thought of your face covered in his cum. “want more?”

“yes please,”

jake only smirks before he starts to ease his cock back into your mouth, letting you close your lips around it before he pulls his hips back again, fucking your mouth. he forces himself to go slow as he continues to thrust into your mouth. he feels his tip just hit the back of your throat before he pulls back. you let out a moan around his cock, the vibrations making his groan out. you were being so good for him.

“it feels so good, love. you’re gonna make me cum.” he tells you honestly. you can only moan more around his cock. your mouth is so warm and wet and you’re letting him fuck more and more into your mouth. there’s spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

jake could feel the coil in his stomach about to burst as he looks into your innocent eyes, your only goal is to make him cum.

he pulls out of your mouth, his hand starts quickly jerking his cock covered in your saliva, “s-so close.”

“no!” you tell him, “want you to cum in my mouth.”

“o-okay, open your mouth again for me, baby.”

jake struggled to keep his eyes open as he slid his pulsating cock right back into your mouth. his hands rested gently on the back of your head as his hips slid his cock in and out of your mouth. it didn’t take long for him to cum, your tongue enticing him to cum way quicker than he would’ve liked.

“oh fuck!” jake moans out, “fuck, y/n, i’m cumming, i’m cumming.”

jake released into your mouth. the liquid shooting right into your throat as you swallowed around him. his grip in your hair was tense as he came. you swallowed the best you could, the taste was new.

when he was done, jake was breathing heavy. he let go of you, falling back onto his elbows, his legs still spread for you to sit between.

“was i good?” you ask him genuinely.

jake only smiled at you, telling you to come lay beside him in your bed. you rushed to lay by his side. your throat raw and lips swollen as jake pulled you in for a kiss, tasting his own cum.

“you were perfect, love.”

as the days passed, you and jake found yourselves drawn to each other like magnets. despite your lingering doubts of his intentions with you, you couldn’t deny the comfort and warmth you felt in his presence. you also craved the feeling of his lips on yours again since the night he gave you great gatsby.

you spent your fall afternoon lazing on the bench together (sitting much closer than before) and studied together. the weight of his presence beside you reassured you that you weren’t the only one to feel this connection. the walls between you and jake seemed to crumble.

you took turns reading the pages of the great gatsby. sometimes he would rest his heavy head on your lap as you read, but you didn’t mind the weight. other times he would read to you with your head on his shoulder, watching the words on the pages as he spoke them.

this time, you chose to be more careful about who saw you with jake. you didn’t need any more snarky comments from heejin before bed. and you enjoyed being more accepted into the friend group with her, minju and lia.

kim nakyoung would still glare at you if you walked past her in the halls, and at every meal you were sure that her eyes were on you the entire time. you weren’t sure if it was because she just hated you, or if she knew that you and jake were still close.

this weekend was thanksgiving, and you were so looking forward to getting away from all the prying eyes of sterling. though you were anxious to see what jake’s apparent magnificent house looks like, you were scared. his family was in a much higher class than you would ever be in your life. you were nervous to find out what his family would think of you. you were continuously asking minju tips on how to properly use each utensil and napkin during dining hours.

you made sure to stay in your dorm until you were sure your friends had left for the whole weekend. you had told them that you were staying in sterling for the weekend because your parents were out of town for the holiday (which was partly true). you just didn’t want to hear any more warning about how a girl like you shouldn’t be hanging out with a boy like jake.

when jake knocked on your dorm room door, you felt your hands start to shake and your heart pick up pace. when you swung open the door, jake was stood there in loose beige pants, a white button up shirt with a brown belt. his hair was styled into a proper slick back for once. you gulped as you looked down at your outfit. you tried to pick out an outfit that seemed well put together, but you could only wear your white, loose pants and a square neck blue tee that you had borrowed from lia.

“you ready to go?” jake tilts his head at you, his usual smile on his face when he asks,

“uh, yeah, sure.” you reply and swing your bag over your shoulder, following him down the halls.

the whole ride to jake’s family estate you felt like you were on the verge of throwing up. jake had tried to reassure you that everything would be fine and that you would totally fit in with his family. but the hour-long drive to an apparent mansion while sitting in the backseat of a sleek black, retro cadillac with a chauffeur who referred to jake as “mr sim” didn’t really enforce the reassurance.

As the Cadillac glided up the long gravel driveway, the imposing black gate swung open with a quiet hum, granting passage into a world of opulence and grandeur. A sense of anticipation tingled in the air as you caught your first glimpse of jake's family estate, an expansive mansion that seemed to rise majestically from the earth.

The mansion, a symphony of beige and brown hues, sprawled before you, its grandeur evident in every detail. Numerous large windows adorned its façade, offering glimpses into the luxurious interior beyond. At the center of the circular driveway stood a magnificent fountain, its waters glistening in the sunlight like liquid diamonds.

Two towering oak trees flanked the entrance to the estate, their branches reaching skyward as if to touch the heavens. Delicate white detailing adorned the edges of the house, adding a sense of refinement to its stately exterior.

the meticulously manicured grounds surrounding the mansion were a sight to behold. the grass was a vibrant shade of green that stretched out in all directions like a lush carpet. it was the greenest grass you had eer seen. the hedges that encircled the property were perfectly rectangular.

As you gazed out the car window at the breathtaking sight before you, a sense of awe washed over you. The estate was more magnificent than anything you had ever imagined, a testament to the wealth and power of the Sim family.

you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into for the next five days.

you follow jake out of the car, briefly thanking the chauffeur before heading up the steps to the mansion. as jake swings open the large door, the grand foyer of his family estate fills your eyes. the house is so beautiful, so clean, so white and so fancy.

an elegant figure enters the room and stands before you. you recognize her from the pictures you had seen of the sim family. it was jake’s mother’s sonya, who seems to simply exude grace and sophistication by just standing there. she is dressed in a stunning ensemble, with a tailored silk blouse and sleek pencil skirt. you can’t take your eyes off of all the exquisite jewelry that’s hung off her neck, earlobes and wrists.

with a warm smile, sonya extends her hand in greeting, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth as she welcomes you. “it’s so great to meet you. i’m glad jake had made a friend besides heeseung,”

“mom!” jake’s slightly flustered appearance from his mother’s welcome makes you chuckle.

“it’s so nice to meet you too,” you smile back at sonya, “thank you for letting me stay this weekend.”

sonya scoffs, “oh it’s no problem! any friend of jake’s is welcome here!”

two women, who could only be maids for this household, enter the room dressed in crisp uniforms. their demeanor is respectful and attentive and they can hardly look at sonya in the eye. they inquire about her luggage, and sonya instructs them with poise, “the second bedroom in the west wing please.” her authority is evident as she addresses the staff.

you offer sonya and the maids a grateful nod, expressing your appreciation for their hospitality and aid as you follow jake and the maids up the grand staircase. the mansion smells like fresh flowers and polished wood. your eyes marvel at the exquisite chandelier that’s hung from the ceiling as you step closer to it on the stairs.

the maid with your luggage stops in front of a door with a golden handle and pushes it open. th eroom inside takes your breath away. the walls are painted in a soft, creamy hue, contracted by dark wooden paneling and trim. a smaller crystal chandelier hands from the center of the ceiling. the bed is massive, with a canopy of sheer, flowing fabric and the pillows look like you’ll sink right in.

across from the bed there’s a fireplace framed by an intricately carved mantle, adorning an arrangement of fresh flowers. above the mantle, an ornate mirror reflects the room’s grandeur. to the left of the fireplace, on the far wall from the door, there’s two tall windows, draped in heavy silk curtains that allow you to view the estate’s immaculate gardens. a writing desk and a chair sit nearby, but you can’t take your eyes off of the backyard through the window.

the maid places your bag neatly by the wardrobe before leaving you with a polite smile. you stand in awe as you try to take in where you are.

jake’s voice pulls you from your reveries, “what do you think?”

you turn to find him standing in the doorway, a small amused smile playing on his lips.

“this room is so beautiful, jake,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief, “i think i should sleep outside.”

jake chuckles, the sound familiar and comforting in this unknown palace, “you’re not sleeping outside. come on, follow me.”

curious, you follow him out of the room and down another hallway. he stops in front of a pair of double doors and pushes them open to reveal another stunning room. this one is larger than your own and even more impressive. it’s adorned with dark wood and deep blue accents. a large, comfortable looking bed dominates the space, flanked by elegant bedside tables. instead of having windows on the far wall, he has a set of glass doors that are open to a balcony.

“this is my room,” jake says to you with his arms spread open, he walks backwards to his bed and flops down on his back. you stand in the doorway, not being able to take in that this is a bedroom. jake laughs at your shocked expression, “you can look around if you want, it’s nothing special.”

usually you would mock him for calling a room like this ‘nothing special’, but you’re too in shock. slowly you start to walk around his room. there’s bookshelves from floor to ceiling adorned with books– some new and some old. the desk looks like it’s never been used and the pens and books on it are just there for decoration. on one of the bedside tables is a picture of heeseung and jake, both of whom are definitely younger and smiling. you place the framed picture back on the table and head to the balcony, the silk curtains of the doors are gently flowing from the fall breeze outside. It seems so much warmer at jake’s estate than it does at sterling academy.

“this place is like something out of a dream, jake.” you tell him, not looking behind you on the bed as you stare out into the backyard.

“well i’m glad that you like it. i want you to feel comfortable here this weekend. it means a lot to me that you’re here.”

you turn at his sincerity, walking to his bed and sitting down on the edge beside his laying figure. “i’m happy to be here, thank you for inviting me.”

jake’s eyes take in your sitting figure as he looks up at you, the daylight from the opened balcony windows cascades like an aura around you. his head tilts when a thought pops into his head, “i’ve never had a girl in my room before.”

you scoff and get up from his bed, choosing to walk around his room and examine more of the decorations, “yeah right, i’ve literally seen girls exit your room before.”

jake sits up behind you, “that’s different, i’ve never had a girl here before.”

your finger slowly brushes over the back of one of the older books, taking in the provided information. you choose to ignore the small butterfly in your stomach fighting it’s way up into your heart as you glance over your shoulder and lightly smile at him.

after jake had toured you around the majority of the mansion (you were shocked when he told you there’s still wings on the east side that he could show you), a bell rang for dinner. you quickly washed up, trying to not get lost in the halls as you found jake again and he led you down to the dining room.

The dining room is a masterpiece of elegance and grandeur, dominated by a long, dark wood dining table that gleams under the soft glow of the chandeliers above. The table stretches nearly the length of the room, surrounded by a multitude of high-backed chairs, each upholstered in rich, burgundy fabric that complements the deep wood tones.

Sonya sits at the far end of the table, jake leads you to the seats on her right, pulling out a chair for you before taking the one beside you. Across from you sit two women who are introduced as jake’s aunts, their refined manners and sophisticated appearance adding to the room’s stately atmosphere.

As you settle into your seat, the maids glide into the room, their movements precise and graceful. They begin to serve dinner on fancy white plates edged with a delicate silver lining. The aroma of the dishes is enticing, a blend of familiar and exotic scents that hint at the culinary delights to come. Servers move around the table, filling glasses with ice-cold water that glistens in the crystal goblets. One offers you wine, but you politely decline, opting instead to stick with water for the evening.

Your eyes are drawn to the array of utensils flanking your plate. There are so many forks, knives, and spoons, all silver and polished to a mirror-like shine. You hesitate, unsure of which one to use, but a quick glance at jake gives you a clue. He casually picks up the second largest fork, and you follow his lead, hoping to navigate the formal setting without a misstep.

Dinner proceeds smoothly, with Sonya leading the conversation, her voice carrying a warm, welcoming tone. The aunts join in, their voices blending in harmonious conversation that flows effortlessly from one topic to another. You listen attentively, occasionally contributing when you feel comfortable, and you’re relieved to find that jake’s family is interested in getting to know you.

jake’s presence beside you is a constant source of comfort. He offers you encouraging smiles and quiet reassurances, subtly guiding you through the more intricate aspects of the formal dinner. You realize that while the setting may be unfamiliar, the genuine hospitality and kindness from jake makes it easier to feel at ease.

As the first course is served, you take a moment to appreciate the effort and care that has gone into every detail of the evening. The food is exquisite, each bite a testament to the skill of the chefs. Despite the grandeur of your surroundings, you begin to feel more at ease.

“so y/n,” jake’s aunt rose asks, “what do your parents do for work?”

you notice jake tense beside you, glancing at you as if telling you that you don’t have to answer. but you ignore him and continue, “my dad’s a head miner and my mom’s an artisan.” you notice jake’s aunts pause their eating at your answer, glancing at each other before smiling at you with what you couldn’t notice was fake.

“what type of artisan is your mother?” sonya asks, her voice normal as she glances at you over her silver spoon as he puts more tomato soup in her mouth.

“pottery.” you state with a smile, thinking of all the beautiful dishes and vases your mother has made back home.

you’ve never had such good food before, and you thought the food at sterling was to die for. the chef seemed pleased that you enjoyed his food so much when he came out to check that everything was alright.

“it’s like the girl is starving,” aunt evelyn joked under her breath to her sister.

you could tell jake also heard his aunt since he placed his hand on your knee under the table. you glanced at him with a smile and you made a mental note to eat more slowly.

when the servers came to clear all the empty dishes, you couldn’t help but notice that every other plate still had some food on it while yours was basically licked clean. the server even seemed shocked when you gave her your plate, but hid it with a quick smile.

when the evening winds down and teh estate begins to settle into the night tranquility, a maid helps prepare your room for bedtime. she offers to run a bath for you. politely, you decline, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the attentiveness and luxury that surrounds you.

jake lingers in the doorway of your room once the maid leaves. his presence a comforting anchor in the unfamiliar environment. his fingers brush lightly over your hair when you walk up to him in your doorway, sending a shiver down your spine. “you can ask them for anything you need.” he says softly, referring to the maids.

“i’m not used to that,” you admit, shaking your head with a faint smile.

jake chuckles, the sound rich and genuine, “i wish i could live as you for one day.”

“how can you say that after living here, like this? i’ve only been here a few hours and i don’t ever want to go back.”

his expression shifts, his brow furrowing, “don’t say that. your parents do everything for you and love you.”

you sigh, feeling the weight of his words, “yeah i know. it just feels so different being here. good different.”

jake’s smile returns, “i’m glad to here that. tomorrow we’ll have more fun.”

he leans down and kisses your forehead, the gesture tender and filled with affection. he glances both ways down the hall before pressing his lips to yours ina soft lingering kiss that makes your heart race, “i wish you could sleep in my bed with me,” he whispers the words a quiet confession that sends a thrill through you.

you push him away gently, your cheeks warm, “night jake. see you tomorrow.”

the last thing you see before you swing the door closed was a pout on jake’s lips that matched his puppy dog expression.

as you lay down in the bed, which feels like it belongs in a luxury hotel, you can’t help but feel a sense of wonder and displacement. the room is exquisitely decorated, with plush pillows and silky sheets that cocoon you in comfort. yet, there’s an undercurrent of unfamiliarity that keeps you from fully relaxing.

the first night at jake’s your dreams transported you to a fantastical realm where you are a princess in a tower. the tower is grand, but there’s a sense of foreboding as darkness approaches. crows circle the tower, their cries eerily mimicking the voices of your parents, disapproving of your decisions for the kingdom. the dissonance leaves you feeling uneasy as you toss and turn throughout the night.

You wake to the soft, insistent knocking on your door. A server's gentle voice breaks the morning silence, "It's time to wake up for breakfast, miss. Guests will be arriving soon." You blink away the remnants of your dream, the vivid images of towers and crows fading as you return to the reality of the opulent room.

"Thank you," you murmur, stretching and rubbing your eyes. The server nods and leaves you to get ready. You take a moment to admire the luxurious surroundings before stepping into the adjoining bathroom, where everything gleams with polished marble and gold fixtures. The shower is refreshingly warm, and as you wash away the night, you can’t help but think about the day ahead and the unfamiliar social dynamics you’ll have to navigate.

Dressed and ready, you make your way downstairs, the rich aroma of breakfast guiding you towards the dining room. The house is alive with the quiet bustle of staff preparing for the day. You reach the dining room to find jake, his mother Sonya, and his two aunts already seated at the grand dark wood table. The table is set with an array of dishes, from fresh fruit and pastries to more elaborate breakfast options.

jake looks up as you enter, his face lighting up with a welcoming smile. "Good morning," he says warmly, gesturing to the seat beside him. You sit down next to him, feeling a bit more at ease with his familiar presence beside you.

"Good morning, everyone," you greet them politely. Sonya and the aunts nod in acknowledgment, offering you polite smiles before returning to their conversation. Their voices are low and refined, discussing matters that feel both mundane and impossibly sophisticated.

jake leans in slightly, his hand brushing yours under the table in a small gesture of reassurance. "Did you sleep well?" he asks quietly, his eyes full of genuine concern.

"Yes, thank you," you reply, giving him a small smile.

As the servers deftly clear away the remains of breakfast, you notice Sonya and jake's aunts leaning in slightly towards one another, their conversation growing more animated. The topic shifts to the wine-tasting event planned for the evening.

"The Kims will be here soon," Sonya remarks, her tone carrying a note of anticipation.

At the mention of the Kims, you see jake tense beside you. His easygoing demeanor vanishes as he leans back in his chair, a frown forming on his face. "They are coming tonight?" he asks, his voice barely masking his displeasure.

Sonya's gaze sharpens as she looks at her son. "jake, be polite," she admonishes. "The Kims are our guests, and we will treat them with respect."

jake groans softly, but his mother's stern look silences any further protest. Sonya turns her attention back to her conversation, her voice a mix of reproach and resignation. "No groaning, jake. Now go get changed. We need to pick apples and pumpkins from the backyard for the event tonight."

You rise from the table alongside jake, curiosity piqued. As you both head up the grand staircase to change into warmer clothes, you can't help but ask, "Who are the Kims?"

jake sighs, running a hand through his hair as you walk down the hall together. "kim Nakyoung and her family. They come over for every holiday event. Her mother always manages to spill everyone's secrets at every year's wine-tasting event."

you separate into your separate bedrooms, changing into warmer clothes. the maids had carefully laid out a set of fleece leggings and a vest on your bed. you glance at yourself in the mirror, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. the outfit was perfectly tailored and undeniably expensive and feels both foreign and comfortable. you knock on jake’s door and find that he’s waiting for you and is similarly dressed in attire that screams opulence. He had noticed the tension in your expression when he had told you that nakyoung and her family would be joining tonight.

“i need a smoke before we go,” jake speaks and you follow him out onto his balcony where he lights a cigarette, a familiar scent mingling with the crisp fall air. the view is breathtaking, but your mind is preoccupied. as he takes a drag, his voice is soft, “i won’t leave you alone with her,” referring to nakyoung, “just ignore her.”

You nod, but the anxiety lingers. when his eyes look away from you you finally voice the question that's been gnawing at you since the first day of school.

“What is it between you and Nakyoung?" you ask, your voice tentative.

jake exhales slowly, the smoke curling around him like a ghost. "She's always had a crush on me," he begins, glancing at you. "And it's partly our parents' fault. They used to joke when we were kids that we'd marry someday. It was never serious, but they wouldn't be against it either."

"Why don't you date her then?" you ask, genuinely curious.

He scoffs, pretending to gag. "I'm being serious, jake."

He sighs, flicking ash off the balcony. "Nakyoung doesn't know how privileged she is. She's so closed-minded to any world besides this one, and it always gets to her head. She has this fantasy of hers, where she's in a huge house, wealthy, with a husband and kids. More often than not, I'm the husband in her fantasy world."

You stay quiet for a moment, processing his words. "That doesn't sound too bad."

jake scoffs again, his frustration evident. "I don't want to be in some fantasy land where everything is the same every day and I have no choice. I've never had a choice my entire life."

The weight of his confession hangs between you. Your fingers reach out and overlap with his quietly, offering a silent gesture of understanding. jake looks down at your entwined hands, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the somber conversation.

“i don’t think i’d be able to handle this weekend without you. being here with you makes this hell… bearable.” his voice is low in the late morning.

“don’t worry, i’m here for you, jake.”

jake nods, his expression softening. "Thank you. For understanding, for being here. It means more than you know."For a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. jake leans closer, his voice a tender whisper, “race you to the pumpkin patch.”

not a second later, he’s running away from you, through the mansion that you barely know, but you’re running right after him, not wanting him to win the race.

the autumn air was crisp and filled with the scent of fallen leaves and ripe apples as you and jake wandered through the sprawling orchard in his backyard. the sim’s pumpkin patch was a sea of vibrant orange, each pumpkin a potential canvas for carving. beneath the multiple appeal trees, you plucked the reddest apples that you thought would taste the best. as the afternoon sun settled in, you shared a quiet moment as you counted the apples you both had placed into the wicker basket. jake’s warm hands brushed yours as he helped count.

a maid welcomes you back into the house and servers come to help you carry the pumpkins and wicker basket inside to clean them. the guests will be arriving shortly for the wine tasting event, so the maid let’s you and jake go shower off the dirt from the pumpkins.

the bathroom that jake pointed you towards was just as luxurious as the rest of the house. the marble tiles gleamed under the soft glow of ornate sconces. the shower had gold fixtures and a rain shower head that cascaded the water like a gentle waterfall. shelves lines the inside of the shower with fancy soaps and shampoos that smelt like lavender and vanilla, similar to the way jake’s hair smelt.

afterward, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy, white towel that felt like a cloud against your skin and headed towards your bedroom. you briefly forgot that anyone else lived here until you saw a dress laid out for you on the bottom of your bed. it’s fabric was simmering softly in the chandeliers light. your fingers trace the delicate embroidery, feeling the intricate patterns. it’s so beautiful you’re unsure if you should even dare to wear it.

as you stand there, lost in thought with yoru eyes glued to the dress, the door creaks open and the maid from earlier enters, “you should wear it.” she says gently, a warm smile spreading across their face.

“i don’t know if i can.” you shake your head looking between her and the dress.

“of course you can, mrs sim picked it out just for you. thanksgiving is special.” her words and the sincerity in her voice persuades you, and with a deep breath you decide to wear it, embrace the sim lifestyle for thanksgiving.

you step down the grand staircase, the dress flowing around you like a cascade of moonlight. each step seems to echo with the distant hum of conversation and laughter from the gathered guests below. the maid had worked her magic on your hair and makeup, making you feel somewhat pretty.

at the bottom of the stairs, jake stands waiting, his suit impeccable and his presence relaxed as he talks with guests. when he turns and sees you, his reaction is immediate and heartfelt. his jaw slackens, eyes widening in awe as he takes in the sight of you. the room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this moment of quiet reverence.

"you look so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration as you reach him. the words send a warm flush to your cheeks, and you feel a surge of emotion in your chest.

his hand reaches out, steady and inviting, and you grasp it gratefully, feeling the strength and warmth of his touch. with his support, you navigate the last few steps, your heart beating a little faster with each one. as you reach the bottom, jake doesn't let go of your hand, instead, he gently squeezes it, grounding you in the midst of the swirling evening.

“oh my, y/n,” sonya speaks from beside you, “don’t you look gorgeous?”

you blush harder realizing that all the unfamiliar guests were now looking at you, “thank you, thank you for letting me borrow this dress.”

“it’s no problem at all, i think you look better in it than i ever would!” a few guests laugh at sonya’s joke and return to their own conversations, some of them following sonya into the living room.

as everyone leaves the foyer, you spot kim nakyoung standing in the middle of the room. her sharp eyes narrowing as they land on you. she approaches you and jake with a predatory grace, her perfectly coiffed hair and designer gown a stark contrast to your own borrowed elegance. "what’re you doing here?" she asks, her tone dripping with disdain.

before you can respond, jake steps in smoothly. "i invited her," he says, his voice firm and unapologetic. his protective presence beside you is both comforting and reassuring.

nakyoung’s eyes flicker with something unkind, a smirk curling her lips. "why? she's just a scholarship girl. doesn’t really fit in with the rest of us, does she?" her words are like daggers, aimed to wound.

jake’s expression hardens, his gaze locking onto nakyoung's with a steely resolve. "she belongs here just as much as anyone else," he says, his voice steady. "maybe even more so, considering what she’s accomplished to be here."

her smirk falters, and she shoots you a venomous look before turning away. jake’s grip on your hand tightens slightly, a silent promise of support. he guides you towards where the rest of the guests are mingling, but before you can follow, nakyoung steps closer, her voice a low hiss in your ear.

"just because you're in that dress doesn't mean you should be," she whispers, her tone laced with malice. "you don’t belong here."

her words sting, but you take a deep breath, refusing to let them see you falter. jake, unaware of the exchange, leads you into the unfamiliar crowd. you straighten your shoulders, determined to prove nakyoung wrong. you do belong here, and tonight, you will not let anyone make you feel otherwise.

the wine tasting event is a whirlwind of activity, the room filled with laughter and animated conversations. the guests, draped in expensive attire, swirl their glasses and speak in a language of wealth and privilege that feels foreign to you. you smile and nod, pretending to understand the nuanced discussions. you understood why the sinwine tasting event would be a big hit around thanksgiving.

you manage to avoid nakyoung and her family for the entirety of the night, but you could feel her daggered eyes on you when one of the guests would laugh at one of your jokes, or when you would attempt to help the servers.

as the evening progresses and the guests begin to take their leave, , jake appears at your side, his eyes sparkling with mischief. before you can ask what he’s up to, he grabs your hand, and with a quick, conspiratorial glance around, he snatches a bottle of wine from a nearby table.

"come on," he whispers, his excitement contagious. he tugs you along, and you follow him, stifling your giggles as you both tiptoe through the hallways. his playful shushing to your noises makes you want to laugh louder.

you reach his bedroom, and he pulls you through, continuing to his balcony. the night air is cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the crowded ballroom. you step out onto the balcony, the fairy lights around the grand backyard were like a blanket of stars underneath you.

“god, i couldn’t be in there any longer,” jake says, a playful grin on his face. he uncorks the bottle with a flourish, pouring the wine into two glasses he’d stashed nearby. the rich, fruity aroma fills the air, mingling with the scent of night-blooming flowers from the garden below.

you clink glasses and sip the wine together. you feel a sense of belonging start to settle within you in this moment. jake’s presence, his easy laughter and the warmth in his eyes makes you feel like you do belong here, alongside the opulence and luxury.

"thanks for this," you say softly, glancing at him. his gaze meets yours, and there’s a tenderness there that makes your heart flutter.

"anytime," he replies, his voice equally soft. “

"forget what nakyoung said," jake murmurs, his eyes earnest and comforting. "she’s just jealous."

you frown, looking away. "i don't know why kim nakyoung would be jealous of me."

jake tilts his head, studying you with a gentle smile. "what do you mean? you're smart, kind, and you have so much empathy she could never understand. you’re genuine, and that’s something money can’t buy."

his words warm your heart, and you want to believe him. yet, as you glance down at the simmering dress you wear, you can't shake the feeling of being an imposter, inadequate amidst the glittering world around you.

jake’s soft chuckle takes you from your insecure thoughts. he reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “you know,” he begins, his voice low and hushed as if someone could hear you from up here, “that dress looks even more stunning in the moonlight. it’s like this dress was made just for you.”

his words send warmth flooding through you, and you can't help but meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in anticipation. There's a pause, a charged silence between you, as if the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next.

then, jake leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours for a second, to see if you would be opposed to kissing him this time. he closes the distance between you when he watches your eyelids close. his lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. you melt into his embrace, you can’t help but feel like you belong attached to him like this.

jake doesn’t hesitate to slide his hands down your sides, pulling you even closer so your chests are touching. he deepens the kiss with his plush lips. you’ve wanted to feel his lips on yours so passionately like this since the first day you saw him in the cafeteria. there’s so much want and need in the kiss that neither of you stop to breathe. so much want and need that’s built up since the first day of school when you heard all the rumours about jake. you never thought that you would be making out with him so aggressively and carefree on his grand estate’s balcony.

“i wanna make you feel good, love.” jake pulls away, breathless. you instantly feel warmth spread on your cheeks, hopefully the night sky dims the colour a bit. jake chuckles at your shyness, “only if you’ll let me, only if you want.”

you bite your lip as you look up at him, “i want you to.”

jake’s fingers brush over the bottom of your jaw, “want me to what?”

“i want you to make me feel good.”

jake doesn’t hesitate to get on his knees, gently pushing you back so your back is leaning against the balcony’s railing. his warm hands slide up the sides of your legs, bunching your dress up at your waist.

“wait, right here?” you ask him, look down at him.

“just like this, i can’t wait any longer, i wanted you since you came down those stairs,” jake practically groans as he pulls down your panties to your ankles, his brown eyes darkening. “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you want to close your legs at the comment, becoming self conscious as jake is face to face with your pussy. you couldn’t even lie and say you weren’t since you were so turned on since you saw him. “what? you look good in your suit…”

jake smiles at you at your compliment, “do i?”

you can’t answer him since he starts to press feather light kisses onto your core. your fingers grip the balcony railing behind you, the cold metal a reminder that anyone could see you if they looked out a window or went outside. the thought briefly worries you until jake’s slips his tongue to easily in your folds. it pushed any worry out of your mind.

“fuck, jake,” you mumble out as he continues to experimentally movie his tongue up and down your folds.

your body was getting insanely hot in the autumn wind. you could feel jake’s warmth pressed against your entire core as your legs buckled around his neck and shoulders. jake kept his hands on your upper thighs to sturdy himself and you.

“you taste better than i ever thought,” jake pulled away for a second to speak. you moan out in response, your eyebrows pulled together as you look at the boy between your legs. “thought about tasting your pretty pussy since the day i saw you.”

suddenly you weren’t able to focus on anything except for the pleasure jake was giving you and the fact that he also wanted you the second he saw you in the cafeteria. the information only increased the pleasure you were feeling.

your one hand slipped from the balcony and pushed itself into jake’s brown hair that you always wanted to brush out of his face. his smooth forehead now visible to the moonlight above your head. jake’s tongue starts to circle your clit, making you have to bite down on your lip to be quiet. you never thought a tongue could feel this good.

your pussy feels so warm and wet and jake’s groans into your core only push you closer to the edge, never feeling anything like this before. you start to become a whimpering mess, trying to not let your moans become too loud.

jake’s able to read your body language, the way your thighs start to tense and the grip you have on his hair tightening. he slips his index finger into your pussy, making you cry out way too loudly for your liking (jake only smiled). his finger starts at a steady pace, different from how fast his tongue and lips were moving on your clit. jake feels his chin and cheeks start to get soaked from your juices and his saliva, but it only makes his cock on his pants harden some more.

jake starts to work in his middle finger alongside his index, pumping them faster to match the speed of his mouth. you start to clench around his digits, feeling your stomach start to tighten and your eyes struggle to remain on his from your feet. jake bends his fingers in all directions, focused on finding your g spot, focused on making you cum.

“oh god!” you cry out, your hand in his hair coming to cover your mouth once his fingers find it. “fuck, jake.”

“c’mon love, cum all over my mouth, wanna taste all of you so bad.”

and it doesn’t take long for you cum so messily over his mouth. you’re shaking and moaning his name and curse words into your mouth. jake slides his fingers out of your pussy, sucking on them before he licks your core clean, wanting every drop.

“good girl, y/n, did so good.” jake mumbles as he presses kisses into your legs, pulling up your panties and pulling down your dress as you try to regulate the pulsing between your legs and your breathing.

jake stands up, his hands coming onto your waist as he puts his forehead against yours, grounding you as you are forced to look into his warm, playful eyes. “you okay?”

“better than okay,” you tell him, a smile cracking onto your lips as you think about what just happened.

“good,” jake smiles as he pecks your lips, making you taste yourself, “because you have to let me do that again.” you push him away gently, rolling your eyes at him.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom quickly,” you tell him.

jake grabs your hand as you try to move away from him and pulls you into him again, “okay but hurry back,” he presses his lips to yours.

“i’ll try.” you kiss him again before walking into the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom.

jake leans his back against the balcony railing, his elbows leaning on the railing behind him as he lights a cigarette in his mouth, he slaps the lighter closed and breathes in the nicotine as he glances into his room. it’s then, that he sees nakyoung standing in the small space of his bedroom door. a scowl on her usual pretty face.

jake smirks as he takes the cig out of his mouth and exhales the smoke, almost chuckling to himself as he realizes nakyoung probably watched at least some of the show.

he can almost hear nakyoung’s pout from across the room before she closes his bedroom door, leaving him alone to smoke in peace before you’re back.

on your third day at the sim estate, jake, his aunts, sonya, nakyoung and her family, and you gather near the stables at the back of the estate, excitement twinkling in your eyes. The sound of horses fills the air as you prepare to go horseback riding on the trails around their property.

you think that finally, there’s something familiar here besides jake as you mount the dark brown horse. it’s a skill you’ve honed since you were a child, a passion passed down to you from your father.

“you handle yourself in the saddle like a seasoned rider, y/n. it’s clear you have a talent with horses.” nakyoung’s father compliments, his voice deep and eyes impressed as he watches you on the horse. Nakyoung's glare is sharp enough to cut through steel, but you meet it with a serene smile, refusing to let her animosity dampen your spirits.

Curiosity sparks in Aunt Rose's eyes as she watches you effortlessly guide your horse, her voice warm with interest. "How did you come to be such a skilled rider?" she asks, genuine intrigue coloring her tone.

You share a soft laugh, the memories of your father's patient teachings flooding back. "My dad used to ride professionally when he was younger," you explain, a fond smile gracing your lips. "He taught me everything I know."

The revelation draws murmurs of admiration from the group, their eyes shining with newfound respect. jake's smile is like sunshine breaking through clouds, his pride in you evident as he watches you lead the horse down the trail.

But amidst the praise and admiration, Nakyoung seethes with resentment, her jealousy palpable in the air.

later in the afternoon, sonya announced that it’s tea time for the ladies. The maids bustle about, their movements precise and purposeful as they prepare tea, delicate cups and saucers clinking softly against each other. The scent of freshly baked scones wafts through the air.

As the ladies gather in the day room, you take your seat among them, feeling a mixture of nerves and anticipation fluttering in your chest. It's like stepping onto a stage, completely improvising your role yet, the audience has no idea that you don’t know what you’re doing. you mimic their actions, delicately arranging a napkin on your lap and ensuring your elbows don’t rest on the table.

the older women turn their attention to you, their questions gentle and probing as they seek to unravel the layers of your personality. sonya seems to genuinely curious about you and the warmth from jake’s aunts and nakyoung’s mother follow sonya.

Even Nakyoung's mother, typically reserved and aloof, surprises you with her interest, her questions probing deeper, seeking to understand the challenges you've faced as a scholarship student. It's a stark contrast to Nakyoung's cold indifference.

nakyoung’s presence fades into the background during tea time. no one bothers to pay her glaring self any attention since all eyes were on you. with all the polite conversation and shared laughter, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. that you belonged to a part of this world that once seemed so distant and unattainable.

after dinner, jake and you slip away from the crowded dining room, seeking solace in the quiet beauty of the evening. Hand in hand, you stroll through the sprawling gardens, the cool night air whispering secrets as you walk. you notice an extra pep in your step as you walk, a smile never leaving your face as you look around the beautiful estate.

You glance at jake, "I haven't had this much fun in so long," you confess, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

jake's grin widens, his hand squeezing yours gently. "Good, because I feel the same way," he admits, his voice soft but sure. "I didn't think I could have fun while being home, but you make it fun. You make anywhere fun."

You playfully roll your eyes at his cheesy declaration, but your laughter rings out into the night, a melody of shared joy. jake tugs on your connected hands, pulling you closer until you're pressed against his chest. His lips meet yours in a sweet, tender kiss, you don’t worry about anyone catching you since you’re far out into the backyard.

When you finally pull away, breathless and giddy, you rest your foreheads against each other, the moment stretching out like an eternity. jake's gaze is soft, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion that steals your breath away.

"I want you to sleep in my bed tonight," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate.

You hesitate, a flicker of worry crossing your mind at the thought of jake's mother discovering you together. "You know we can't do that," you remind him, your voice tinged with regret. "Your mom would be so mad if she found out."

But jake's grin turns mischievous, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Who says she'll find out?"

jake's grip is firm yet gentle as he pulls you up the grand staircase, his eyes locked on yours with a mix of determination and vulnerability. the hallway blurs as he leads you to his bedroom. the door closes behind you with a soft click, sealing you both in secrecy. he lays you down on his bed, the plush covers enveloping you as his gaze softens.

jake leaned over top of you, his whole body pressed against yours. his hands gently reach out and cup your jaw and press soft kisses into your lips. your legs wrap around his waist, keeping his clothed crotch against your own. your fingers confidently combed through his hair, gently tugging at the nape of his neck. jake groans into your mouth, grinding his currently stiffening cock against your core.

“let’s get this dress off you,” jake suggests, pulling the expensive fabric from your legs up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. you’re left in your panties and bra and jake doesn’t hesitate to start presses kisses into the exposed part of your chest.

you were beginning to feel exposed and insecure, never being so close to completely bare in front of anyone before. jake could sense your anxiety and gently held your wrists to your side, moving down your body with soft kisses, wanting to calm you, wanting every part of your body to be touched.

jake hooks his finger into your panties once he reaches further down your body, “it’s okay if i take these off?” you nod in response, humming when he presses a kiss under your belly button. he pulls off the garments in a second, throwing them on the floor.

before jake could press his fingers against your core, your grab his face in both of your hands, looking down at him between your thighs, “i want you, jake.” jake’s eyes softened in subtle confusion, “i want all of you, want you inside me.”

jake swore he almost came right there in his pants. your usual shy self speaking such dirty words to him, only for him, “are you sure? we don’t have to if you aren’t ready.”

you smile at his politeness, your fingers caressing the side of his soft face, “i’m sure, jake. i only want you.”

jake leaps up to press his lips onto yours. this time, the kiss is much more feverish and lustful. his hands slide behind your back, unclasping your bra. you let it fall down your elbows, jake pulling it off your arms for it the meet the rest of your clothes. now you were completely bare for him, as he was still completely dressed. you let his eyes wander over your bare body, watching them fill with adoration and need.

“fuck, you’re so, so beautiful.” jake groans, leaning down to suck on your neck. his teeth subtly biting the skin there, sucking on the spot, making you writhe your bare core against his.

“i wanna see you, too, jake.”

jake pulls away from you, unbuttoning his white shirt, button by button, until his bare core and shoulders are able to be seen. his skin is tan and strong, his muscles are visible and you can’t stop yourself from your hands reaching out and touching the skin. it’s so soft and the muscles are so hard. there’s no imperfections, just as you thought.

jake slides two fingers inside of you, pushing them in and out, preparing you for his cock that is pulsating in his pants. you moan out his name when his thumb starts to press circles into your clit. your hips start to move in rhythm of his fingers, wanting them deep inside of you.

jakes other hand was massaging your breasts, tweaking your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. jake knew exactly where your g spot was, his fingers making sure to hit there everytime he thrusted them inside of you. you were starting to squirm underneath him, the pleasure becoming too much too quick. the excitement of what was going to come was turning you on so much.

“close already, love?” jake asks, taking your shaking breaths as a sign.

“a-almost there,” you whined out to him, your hand grabbing his shoulder for support.

“that’s a good girl, cum on my fingers, then, wanna see you cum,”

jake continued to hit your g spot at the quick pace he had set. his thumb moving on your clit quicker and quicker. your moans getting louder, forgetting that any one else was nearby. forgetting that it wasn’t just you and jake.

with a call of his name, you come undone all over his fingers just like he wanted. he watches as your jaw drops, a quiet cry escaping as the pleasure rushes throughout your body.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” jake says, pulling his fingers out of you and immediately pressing his lips onto yours. he makes out with you as you come down from your high, your body coming back to its senses. your hands pull on his locks, wanting him as close to you as possible.

you pull away from him, “want you inside of me, jake, please, need it so bad.”

“fuck, okay, okay, baby.” jake nods and starts to pull down his trousers, his boxers going with so his erect cock is springing upwards.

before jake could lay down again, you push him onto his back, his head in his pillow. you swing your leg over his crotch so your bare cores are just over top of each other.

“are you sure, y/n?” jake asked you, his hands on your waist to still you from moving any more.

you nodded, your hands resting on his lower abdomen, “i want you, jake. i’m sure.”

you slide you hand in between your bodies, holding his cock in one hand to line it up with your pussy. slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. your core is so wet from your previous orgasm that the stretch isn’t as bad as you thought it would be for the first time. you both moan at the feeling of jake’s cock stretching you out. jake’s lip is caught inbetween his lips as he watches himself bottom out in you.

you took a deep breath once he was snug inside of you. both of you waiting for the uncomfortable feeling to subside. jake started running his hands up and down your bare thighs, distracting you from it.

“okay,” you mostly told yourself once the feeling was gone. the pain had turned into pleasure.

jake on the other hand swore he was in heaven. the girl he was enamored with was above him, starting to bounce on his cock. his hand slid down to start rubbing circles on your clit again. you let out a loud moan, the oversensitivity from your previous orgasm was making this feel so much better. your senses were heightened as you continued to move up and down his cock. your walls tight around his cock.

you could feel every vein of his cock inside of you, your juices mixing with his precum. jake could feel your walls start to pulse around him. your elbows on his stomach started to buckle as your orgasm was approaching quickly.

“i’m gonna cum, jake.” you cry out, your eyebrows pulled together as you look down at him.

“please cum, love, wanna see you cum. i’m so close,”

you let out curses mixed with his name as you cum for a second time that night. your hips moving around his cock quickly as all the nerves in your body tense with pleasure.

“fuck baby, that’s it, that’s it!” jake calls out, groaning as his grip on your hips tightens. his own orgasm only a few thrusts behind yours. his cum shoots inside of you, coating your walls with his white release. both of you moan at the feeling of you being so full.

you let yourself drop on top of jake. your head in his neck and shoulder as he cock softens inside of you. both of your chests are heaving against each other as you try to catch your breaths.

jake brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you, a laugh leaving his lips as he sees you. you can’t help but smile back at him, tiredness washing over you.

“i think that was the hardest i ever came,” jake speaks his mind to you.

“really?”

“definitely.”

you smash your lips against his, wondering when you’ll ever feel this good, again.

as the day of thanksgiving unfolds, sonya surprises you with a thoughtful gesture, insisting on taking you to get your nails done and insisting on paying.

As you gaze down at your newly manicured nails, a sense of awe washes over you. They've never looked more beautiful. For the first time, your nails resemble those of the other girls at Sterling Academy.

Later that evening, as you prepare for Thanksgiving dinner, you find yet another beautiful dress laid out at the bottom of your bed. The fabric simmers in the soft light, the intricate design whispering of elegance and sophistication. Without hesitation, you slip into the dress, the smooth fabric draping over your curves like a second skin.

There's no trace of self-consciousness as you admire yourself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at you, a vision of confidence and grace. In this moment, you feel a sense of empowerment, as if this dress was made for you. As you take one final glance in the mirror, you can't help but smile.

As you settle down beside jake at the Thanksgiving dining table, the atmosphere is alive with the sounds of laughter and conversation. The table is laden with a feast fit for royalty, an array of dishes that tantalize the senses with their rich aromas and vibrant colors. Family and friends mingle around the table, their voices blending into a symphony of warmth and camaraderie.

Nakyoung sits across from you and jake. but you refuse to focus on her and your mind paints her into the background.

Throughout the evening, the maids and servers flit about, their movements graceful and efficient as they refill drinks and bring out more food. But amidst the flurry of activity, you find yourself lost in the spell of jake's touch. His hand rests reassuringly on your thigh, a silent anchor in the sea of chatter and laughter.

With each whispered word, jake's affectionate murmurs send a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He tells you how beautiful you look, his words a gentle caress against your ear. And as he expresses his desire for you, his voice laced with longing, you feel a surge of warmth spread through you, igniting a fire that burns bright in the depths of your soul.

Despite the distractions and the prying eyes around you, you lean into jake's touch, craving the intimacy of his presence.

As dessert is served, you reach for the fork beside your plate, only to hear Aunt Rose's voice ring out across the table, tinged with surprise and disapproval. "Wow, I can't believe Y/N is using her salad fork for dessert," she exclaims, her words carrying a bit too loudly in the suddenly quiet room. Instantly, you feel the weight of everyone's attention shift towards you, the conversation dying down as all eyes seem to bore into your being.

With a gulp, you swallow the piece of dessert in your mouth, feeling the sting of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. Hastily, you set down the incorrect fork and pick up the proper one, mumbling a hasty apology under your breath. It's a small mistake, but in this moment, it feels monumental, a glaring reminder of your perceived inadequacies.

For the first time since arriving at the estate, you feel like everyone is truly seeing you, but not for the person they believe you to be, but rather for the outsider that you are. The room is heavy with silent judgment, the unspoken question lingering in the air: why are you here?

Before you can gather your thoughts or summon a response, Nakyoung's interruption pierces the steady silence like a sharp dagger. "I told you that you don't belong here, Y/N," she declares, her voice laced with venom. her mother's reprimand is swift, but Nakyoung pays it no mind, her focus locked on you with an intensity that sends a chill down your spine.

"Oh please," Nakyoung continues, her gaze boring into yours with unbridled disdain. "Don't act like that wasn't what everyone was just thinking." And then, her words turn even more cutting as she directs her attention to Sonya, her accusation hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "She's just using you for a little fun getaway, Sonya."

Nakyoung's words cut through the air like a knife, piercing the fragile bubble of illusion you've been living in. In an instant, you're jolted back to reality, the stark truth of your situation crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. You don't belong in jake's world, not really. No amount of fancy clothes or lavish surroundings can change that.

With a heavy heart, you mumble another apology, the words feeling hollow and inadequate as they leave your lips. The sound of your chair scraping against the floor echoes loudly in the sudden silence, drawing unwanted attention to your retreat. You can feel the weight of everyone's eyes on you, their silent judgment suffocating in its intensity.

jake's voice, soft and pleading, calls out your name, his hand reaching out in a futile attempt to stop you. But you can't bear to face him, to see the disappointment and confusion in his eyes. With a sharp intake of breath, you pull away, your heart hammering in your chest as you turn and flee from the dining room. you head up the multiple stairs to not your “bedroom”, but the room they let you stay in.

The dress feels like a suffocating shroud, constricting around you like chains as you struggle to breathe. In a sudden burst of desperation, you tear at the fabric, ripping it away from your body. With trembling hands, you reach for the clothes you had packed, the familiar weight of them grounding you in the chaos of the moment. Hastily, you pull them on, the fabric familiar and comforting against your skin. As you move around the room, gathering your belongings into your bag, a sense of urgency propels you forward, driving you towards escape.

But before you can make your exit, a familiar voice calls out from beyond the door, the sound of it both comforting and agonizing in its plea. "Y/N? Are you okay?" jake's voice is laced with concern, his words a desperate plea for you to return to the dinner table. "Please come back to dinner. Nakyoung's just being an asshole. Don't listen to her, please!"

You pause, the sound of his voice tugging at your heartstrings, but our mind is set on one thing and one thing only: leaving this fantasy behind as quickly as you arrived.

jake knows that you won’t answer and suddenly the door is swinging open behind you. jake's heart sinks as he sees your bag packed, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. "What're you doing?" he asks, his voice tinged with concern and confusion.

"I'm leaving, jake," you reply, your voice steady but tinged with sorrow. His heart clenches at your words, a sense of panic rising within him. "What, why?" he asks, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I shouldn't be here," you explain, your words echoing in the silence of the room. "So I'm leaving." Despite his protests, you continue to pack, your movements swift and decisive. jake tries to stop you, his hands reaching out in a futile attempt to halt your departure. But it's no use—your mind is made up.

"Y/N, please, just stay," he pleads, his voice desperate and pleading. But when you refuse to meet his gaze, he takes matters into his own hands, gently grasping your upper arms and guiding you to face him. As your eyes meet, he can see the tears welling in your eyes, a silent testament to the pain you're feeling.

In that moment, as you stand before him, both of you are flooded with memories of all the moments you shared together—the laughter, the smiles, the stolen glances filled with unspoken longing. He remembers the way your eyes lit up when you were together, the warmth of your touch sending shivers down his spine.

the tears fall down your cheeks and jake pulls you into his chest. you take in his lavender smell and you know deep down that this will be the last time you’re this close to jake sim. he shushes you silently into your hair. his arms cascading down your back, keeping you close to him.

in that moment, jake realizes that he can’t bear the thought of losing you.

Tension crackles in the air like lightning as you and jake pull apart.

"I have to go, jake," you say, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "I don't belong here, and you know it."

jake's eyes darken with emotion, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Is there anything I can do to make you stay, please!" he pleads, desperation lacing his words. "I can't see you go like this!"

But you shake your head, the resolve in your heart unwavering. "It's not about you, jake," you explain, frustration creeping into your tone. "It's about me and where I belong. And it's not here."

His jaw clenches as he struggles to find the right words, the air thick with unspoken tension. "You're making a mistake," he insists, his voice rough with emotion. "We can figure this out together, I promise."

But you shake your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "I can't," you whisper, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I have to go."

And with that, you turn and reach for the handle of the room, preparing to call a taxi and never set food on sinestate again. But before you can take another step, jake's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, causing you to freeze in your tracks.

"I love you," he declares, his words hanging in the air like a delicate thread. Slowly, you turn to face him, your heart heavy with sorrow.

"No, you don't, jake," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. His eyes widen in disbelief, hurt flashing across his features like a storm cloud. "What? Yes, I do!" he protests, desperation lacing his words. "You're the only one who's ever understood me! I love you."

"No, you don't, jake," you repeat, your voice trembling with emotion. You can see the pain in his eyes. He reaches for you, his hand outstretched in a silent plea, but you raise your own in a gesture of finality.

"Please, jake," you implore, your voice breaking with emotion. "Just let me go, please." His shoulders slump in defeat, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he watches you turn and leave the room. And as you disappear from his sight, leaving him alone in the house he's always hated, he can't help but wonder if he’ll ever get to hold you again.

the last thing you see of the sim estate, is kim nakyoung’s manicured fingers waving at you from the front door through the taxi’s window.

back at Sterling Academy after the thanksgiving long weekend is no longer a dream, but hell.

As you step through the familiar halls, a sense of relief washes over you at the sight of your friends and the comforting familiarity of your surroundings. Heejin, your grumpy but lovable roommate, greets you with a half-hearted smile, her eyes betraying the exhaustion of the past few days.

But amidst the warm welcome from your friends, there's an undercurrent of unease lingering in the air. The rumors of your mysterious disappearance over the weekend have spread like wildfire, leaving a trail of whispers and speculation in their wake.

It's not long before Minju, lia, and Heejin corner you in the dormitory common room, their eyes wide with curiosity and concern. "Is it true?" Minju asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Did you really spend the weekend at jake sim's house?"

You nod, unable to meet their gaze as a flood of emotions threatens to overwhelm you. "Yes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I did."

“oh my god!” lia squeals, and even heejin fails to hide her amusement at the information. “you have to tell us what happened!”

“yes! yes!” minju shakes you playfully, “every detail!”

before you can even start the story of how you wound up at jake sim’s house, the floodgates open, and tears begin to stream down your cheeks. The weight of the past few days crashes down upon you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping for breath in its wake.

Without hesitation, Minju, lia, and Heejin rush to your side, enveloping you in a tight embrace. They hold you close, offering silent support and understanding as you struggle to find the words to explain the whirlwind of emotions that have consumed you. you fail to recognize in the moment, but now you know that that was where you belonged in, surrounded by people who truly love you.

"Heejin, I'm sorry," you whisper, the words heavy with remorse as you finally confront your roommate after weeks of avoiding the inevitable. Heejin's eyes soften at your apology, her expression mirroring a sense of understanding that you never knew existed between you.

"It's okay, Y/N," she replies, her voice gentle and reassuring. "I just didn't want to see you hurt like this. I wanted to protect you."

Tears well in your eyes at her words, the weight of her sincerity washing over you like a soothing balm. For the first time ever, you see Heejin in a different light, not as the grumpy roommate you've grown accustomed to, but as a friend who has always had your best interests at heart.

The first week back at Sterling Academy feels like walking through a maze of curious gazes and whispered rumors. You can practically feel the weight of judgment bearing down on you, as if every pair of eyes in the room is scrutinizing your every move. It's as though no one understands how a scholarship girl like you ended up spending Thanksgiving weekend at the lavish estate of jake sim, one of the wealthiest students at the academy.

jake's persistent attempts to reach out to you only serve to exacerbate the tension between you. He shows up at your dorm room each night, but you can't bring yourself to face him. As the days pass with no communication, you and jake drift further and further apart. And so you avoid each other, pretending as though your shared past is nothing but a distant memory.

But deep down, beneath the layers of hurt and resentment, there's a part of you that longs to bridge the divide between you and jake, to recapture the connection you once shared. to forget that neither of you could belong in one world. the thought of jake being at your small home with your parents made you laugh. the boy with so much luxury wouldn’t be able to last a day in your hometown where luxury was the rarest thing of all.

As the days pass and the distance between you and jake sim grows, you do realize that you do love him. His caring nature, his playful demeanor, and his vulnerability beneath the facade of wealth and privilege all tug at your heartstrings. But as much as you adore him, you can't ignore the stark reality of the world he belongs to—a world that looks down upon those who aren't born into wealth and luxury. It's a divide that neither of you could ever truly bridge, a fundamental difference that would continue to drive you apart in the future. And so, as much as it pains you to admit it, your love may be doomed from the start, destined to wither beneath the weight of societal expectations and cultural differences that neither of you can overcome.

You decided to shift your focus away from jake sim and onto your schoolwork and friendships. It became clear to you that perhaps you and jake were never meant to be together, and dwelling on it only brought unnecessary pain. Slowly but surely, as you poured your energy into your studies and spending time with your friends, you began to feel a weight lifting off your shoulders. With the looming threat of your scholarship hanging over your head, you knew you had to prioritize your academics to maintain your financial stability. So, you threw yourself into your studies, determined to excel and secure your future. In between study sessions, you found solace in the laughter and companionship of your friends, their support serving as a constant source of comfort and joy. As the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a newfound sense of happiness and contentment, realizing that there was so much more to life than pining over someone who may never truly understand or appreciate you.

As you trudge back to your dorm room after a long night of studying, exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders, you absentmindedly glance out the window into the moonlit backyard of Sterling Academy. What you see there stops you dead in your tracks, freezing the breath in your lungs and sending a shockwave of disbelief coursing through your veins. There, on the bench where you and jake used to sit, sits jake sim himself, his lips locked in a passionate embrace with none other than Kim Nakyoung.

The textbooks slip from your fingers, crashing to the ground with a deafening thud that seems to echo through the empty hallways. The sound jolts jake and Nakyoung apart, their guilty eyes meeting yours in a moment of stunned silence. Panic seizes you, and you scramble to retrieve your books, your heart pounding painfully in your chest as you feel the sting of tears pricking at your eyes.

Ignoring jake's desperate calls of your name, you turn on your heel and flee down the dimly lit corridor, the world around you a blur of pain and confusion. The betrayal cuts deep, slicing through the fragile facade of hope you had built for yourself, leaving behind nothing but a raw, gaping wound in its wake.

the sound of your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, you hear hurried footsteps behind you, growing closer with each passing moment. You steal a glance over your shoulder and see jake sim, his figure swaying slightly as he catches up to you. His eyes are glassy, clouded with the haze of alcohol, and his words tumble out in a slurred rush as he tries to explain himself. "Y/N, wait!” you don’t wait, “It didn't mean anything, I swear. You mean everything to me.”

You stop abruptly, turning to face him, your heart heavy with a mixture of anger and sorrow. you can immediately smell the alcohol off of jake as he stands in front of you. his bangs longer than ever before as they rest in his eyes as he looks down at you. “i don’t care who you fuck, jake. do what you want.”

jake reaches out and grabs your arm, spinning you around to look at you, “y/n i know, i’m so sorry. but i don’t want to fuck anyone! i just want you!”

you sigh, “jake, it's over, whatever this,” you point between your bodies, “was. We're too different. We don't belong in each other's worlds."

But jake's expression is one of desperation as he reaches out to grasp your hand, his touch tingling against your skin. "No, Y/N, please," he pleads, his voice cracking with emotion. "I want to be in your world. I want to be with you."

Tears blur your vision as you pull your hand away, shaking your head in resignation. "But you aren’t and you can't be, jake," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper. “stop pretending you aren’t privileged and wake up. you say you don’t want to be in a fantasy but you pretend that you aren't wealthy jake and that we could ever be in the same world. so that’s it, it’s done.”

“no.” jake says, his head shaking and eyes full of sorrow as he looks at you in almost disbelief, “no y/n you can’t do this, you can’t say this to me.”

“it’s time to stop pretending for both of us jake.” you start to walk away backwards, your face looking at him as youg et slowly farther down the hall.

“no, y/n. i’m not pretending,” jake’s voice is exasperated when he speaks, “i’m not pretending that i love you! i love you, y/n!” you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from responding. only closing your eyes and walking away from him in the empty hallway. when he can’t see your face you let the tears fall. you listen to him calling your name, telling you to come back and that he’ll do anything for you. you so badly want to turn around and run into the familiarity of his arms. but you know that it would be no use, you and jake could never be together. so you tell yourself that these are the last tears you’ll ever spill for jake sim. the son of the wealthiest family at sterling academy.

after that last night in the hallway with jake sim, the days at Sterling Academy passed by in a blur, devoid of any interaction with him. it was as if he had vanished from the halls of the prestigious school, leaving behind nothing but rumours of his troubled behavior. despite the lingering curiosity about him, you found solace in the companionship of your friends minju and lia, and your roommate heejin, who had become the best part of your time at Sterling Academy.

as the school year drew to a close, you knew that you would have to either renew your scholarship or choose not to. and though the memory of jake sim lingered in the recesses of your mind, you found comfort in the bonds you had forged with your friends and the knowledge that you were on the path to a brighter future. your parents and your professors were so impressed by your determined nature with your school work.

for too long, you had lived in a dream, navigating the halls of Sterling Academy with a facade of belonging, all the while feeling like an outsider looking in. the scholarship that had once been a beacon of opportunity now felt like a shackle, binding you to a life that didn't align with you. you longed for true authenticity, for a sense of belonging that transcended the confines of wealth and privilege.

though it was once your dream, you chose not to renew your scholarship at Sterling Academy for the following year. tt was a decision made for you to be able to embrace the world where you truly belonged, surrounded by people who accepted you for who you were, without the need for pretense or facade.

as the final days at Sterling Academy drew near, the bittersweet reality of parting ways with jake sim lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant halls of the prestigious academy. You and jake, from starkly different worlds yet inexplicably drawn together by the threads of fate, stood at the precipice of separation, each poised to embark on divergent paths that would lead you far from one another's embrace.

as you said goodbye to Sterling Academy forever, you carried with you the imprint of jake's presence upon your heart. though your paths diverged, you knew that the bond forged between you would endure your lifetime. even as you live your lives differently, you remain forever intertwined, tethered by shared memories and experiences.

in the end, you had both learned a lesson about the nature of life, social classes and love. as the echoes of your time at Sterling Academy faded into the distance, you embraced the promise of new beginnings, knowing that no matter where life took you, your connection with jake sim would endure, an eternal reminder of love and hope in a world filled with uncertainty.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#enhypen #smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen jake #enhypen jake smut #hard hours #enhypen hard hours #jake x reader #jake x yn #jake enhypen smut

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gutsby · 5 months ago

Text

If You Like Piña Coladas

Pairing: Neighbor!Joel x Reader

Summary: You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn’t need one.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Foodplay (i.e., Joel fucks you with a fruit popsicle). Girthy, unspecified age gap. Mentions of blood.

Note: Loosely inspired by ‘Escape (The Piña Colada Song)’ by Rupert Holmes…minus the part about mutual infidelity LOL

Word count: 8.0k

Joel Miller had been on his own for too long.

The least you could get him was a date. Or even just laid.

Likes: Long walks on the beach

Actually…he hadn’t seen a coastline in ten years, at least. You backspaced slowly and then lowered Joel’s phone.

What did that old grump like to do, anyway?

In all the years you’d been living next door to Mr. Miller, you hadn’t seen him take pleasure in much of anything besides mowing his lawn, rolling his eyes, and screaming like a fiend alongside your dad at whatever game was on.

Likes: College football. Quality time with friends :-)

Nope. Corny as fuck. Backbackbackback.

You wiggled your thumbs over the keyboard in muted concentration. You knew you didn’t have much longer. Joel was currently engrossed in one of the three things he loved most—mowing long, careful rows through his backyard—and you were supposed to be watching the season finale of the Mandalorian while he did. That had been the pretext of your visit, anyway. It’d been a little over an hour since he’d stepped outside and a little under thirty since you’d let your curiosity get the better of you and seized his phone, so you figured he’d be back soon.

You had to think of something witty, and do it quick.

Feeling inspiration strike a second later, you typed:

Likes: Piña Coladas. Getting caught in the rain. Making love at midnight in the dunes on the cape.

Perfect. Easy. Everybody loved that song in the ‘70s.

Having thus put the finishing touch on Joel’s profile, you leaned back and let out a contented sigh. You scrolled. Flicked through photo after photo of your very own hand-picked selection and smiled, feeling proud.

You’d started him off strong and suave with a picture from Tommy’s wedding, wearing a tux that fit him well. Then a cool, casual snap of him at a brewery. A photo taken out on the lake, life jacket snug and showing off a sliver of his broad, bare chest. Then a picture of him at your graduation—you made sure to crop yourself out—followed by a candid shot of him playing dress-up with his niece. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that all the yet-unknown, lovely folks of Hinge would eat this shit up.

You set the radius to 100 miles. Beefed up the age range and gender preferences to include virtually every living soul over 30, tweaked a few more prompts to be cooler, then scrolled through his newly-minted profile. Again.

Oh, and— shit, wait.

Quickly, you toggled to the phone’s settings and disabled all notifications for Hinge. Then you grabbed the app and wrestled it somewhere deep within all the utilities ones that no one ever used. This had to stay hidden for now.

And, just as you stretched your thumb to make a couple last changes to his page, the back door thundered open.

Joel stumbled in, half-hunched. Rubbing his face with a towel and treading slow, heavy steps through the living room. With your heart about to burst from your throat and your impulses blown to shit, you panicked and crammed his phone in your shorts—like, in them.

Joel’s phone was just then settling above the groove of your ass when the man collapsed on the loveseat across the room. Instinctively, you drew your legs to your chest as Joel groaned and pulled the towel away from his face.

“The beast is at it again,” he declared, expression grim.

Before you could ask who ‘beast’ might be, he clarified:

“Marlene’s shit-for-brains labradoodle won’t quit diggin’ holes under my fence. Whole thing’s gonna fall if he—”

You didn’t mean to be rude, but you had to tune out the rest of what he said; your butt squirmed against the sofa as your neighbor’s phone traveled perilously down and took partial lodging between your cheeks. Then stuck.

There was no way you were getting caught like this. One stray phone call or text and you would have the world’s most jarring ringtone buzzing straight up your ass. And a very uncomfortable conversation with Joel, to be sure.

So, while he droned on about the chaos being wrought by the paws of old Sparky, you nodded to the window.

“Aw shit, Mr. Miller…did he just…dig up another?” You feigned surprise as you stared over Joel’s shoulder at a hole that didn’t even exist. Then, when he’d jumped to his feet and growled ‘No fuuuuuckin’ shot’ as he made his way over to the window, you acted fast and pulled the phone out of your ass and stuck the old, cracked thing on top of the coffee table where it’d been last and stood.

Before he could see—or say—anything else, you seized your own phone and made a swift beeline for the door.

Shouting over your shoulder, probably sounding like a fucking lunatic but not particularly caring either way:

“DAD’SCALLINGMEGOTTAGOMISTERMILLERBYE.”

And you left. You had no desire to explain your baseless, bullshit observation or why his phone was currently covered in a thin sheen of sweat from your butt.

You’d never seen so many roses in your life.

Joel Miller could legitimately give the whole Bachelor franchise a run for its money with all the goddamn virtual flowers he’d been getting from his Hinge admirers.

It’d been a week before you’d finally gotten the chance to abduct his phone again and check his ‘likes’ for yourself. Honestly, you hadn’t been expecting much—Joel was hot, but more so in a niche-ish sort of DILF-sexy way. You figured he’d be more of an acquired taste, really.

Once you’d scrolled through just over a hundred different messages, you realized at once how wrong you were.

‘GNAWING at the bars of my enclosure.’

‘Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry, I mean, Daddy?’

‘Need you in a way that is concerning to feminism.’

‘Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.’

And that was truly just the tip of the iceberg when it came to all the wild, chaotic, and horny messages Joel had received over the last week. You couldn’t believe it.

You got to firing off responses as fast as you could. Sitting cross-legged on the back porch while your dad, Joel, Tommy, and a dozen other neighbors were busy grilling burgers and soaking up as much sun as possible.

The only other person who hadn’t joined them was Tess.

She peered over your shoulder and fought back a laugh.

“That man is a fuckin’ menace to society, I swear.”

“No, we’re a menace to society. All about team effort,” you corrected her as you typed up a lightning-quick ‘Hey ;-)’ to each message, fingers moving fast.

“He doesn’t even know you’re doing this!”

“He will soon enough,” you mumbled. Grinning. Then, “Mission’s not over until that old man gets his dick wet.”

You’d probably made it through seventy or so replies and got to go back-and-forth with a couple hot prospects by the time you heard footsteps trailing up the steps—heavy ones that you instantly recognized as Joel’s. Without another word, you exited the app, turned the phone off, and chucked it to Tess, who placed it discreetly onto the porch railing where Joel had left it.

That phone really should have had a passcode on it.

Two weeks later, it did.

You saw it as soon as you’d slid your thumb up the screen in the comfort of Joel’s living room—over at his place pretending to be watching your Star Wars spin-off again—and you felt your heart jump up in your throat.

Your passcode is required to enable Face ID.

Since when the fuck did your neighbor have a passcode? Or even know how to make Face ID a thing? Or use it?

These questions and a dozen more were thrumming through your skull when you heard the screech of the back door once again. This time, instead of taking his sweet time on his yard work, Joel had only been gone five minutes. You swallowed a scream and did that dumb, reflexive thing you had before: shoved his phone in your shorts and thrust yourself back into the couch.

Practically shaking when Joel stepped into the room.

Of course, he wasn’t sweaty. His shirt wasn’t smudged with flecks of dirt or swaths of green from the grass outdoors, nor were his Wranglers the slightest bit muddied. He was perfectly clean in a plain white tee, jeans, and boots. You couldn’t help but notice how tight the short sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps, and then you realized it was because his arms were crossed.

Joel regarded you with a look as long and as careful as the rows he was supposed to be mowing out in the middle of his backyard right now, and he let out a breath.

“Guess what,” he said.

“What?” you squeaked.

Your eyes widened without meaning to, and when Joel plopped down on the sofa beside you, you felt a shiver pulse through your body. Joel stretched his big, wide, denim-clad legs out as he leaned back, and you had to force yourself not to jump when his knee struck yours.

“I’ve gotta brush up on my Gen Z lingo,” he announced.

Wh— okay? What the fuck?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, and feeling the slightest twinge of relief at this declaration, Joel started to tug something out of his pocket. It took you several seconds to see it, then a couple more just to work out what it was, then Joel was squeezing it. Flipping it open.

An old Motorola Razr? When did he get that?

“See, I, uh— met a girl last week,” Joel resumed, plainly careless in the way he fingered the thing in his grip.

Your chest tightened. Had he really?

“She’s a little on the…younger side. You might know her.”

Oh shit. Was Joel banging one of your friends?

You swallowed hard and nodded for him to continue. You pretended not to notice when he flipped the phone open and left it that way—starting to thumb through the keys to do something on it. You fought the urge to take a look.

To distract yourself, you watched his face instead. It was lax.

“She said somethin’ kinda funny last night, and I—” Joel paused to let out a breath of a laugh, and you nearly broke down to steal a glance at what he was looking at.

Narrowly, you resisted. And it was a lucky thing, too—the next thing you knew, Joel’s gaze was fixed right on you.

“Y’know what she said to me?” he asked.

“What?”

Joel blinked. You probably should’ve heard the click of a little button on the phone he was holding, but you didn’t.

You did feel the vibration of another phone under your ass a second later, though. That one was unmistakable.

That one was Joel’s.

Out of one more stupid, senseless instinct, you coughed. Loud. Like the momentary scratch in your throat might reasonably mask the sound and sensation of a small hunk of metal buzzing between your butt and the couch.

It didn’t, of course. You sat and stared at Joel as it rang.

Slowly, he brought the Razr to his ear. At one corner of his mouth, you could discern the first inklings of a smirk.

“Wanna answer that?” he hummed, nodding to your rear.

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

You weren’t sure how you even had the strength to do it, but you reached back and plucked his phone out of your shorts. With your gaze still stuck to his, you answered it. Put it to your own ear out of habit—and a little bit of fear.

“Hello?” you said, stupidly.

“Hey.”

The second you heard Joel’s voice rumble out beside you on the couch and across the line, your heart dropped. Ironclad confirmation of all you didn’t want to believe.

You squeezed his phone even tighter and sincerely hoped the man couldn’t hear the wild, erratic beat of your heart as it throbbed and thudded in your chest. The noise was almost too loud for you to hear anything else, too fast-paced and frantic to discern another word until:

“Can you tell me what a ‘Hinge DILF’ is, darlin’?”

You rose to your feet, scarcely even realizing it.

You had to get off of that couch, had to get away from him and come clean, as calmly as you possibly could. The phone fell out of your grasp just as he ended the call.

“Shit— Mr. Miller— I-I-I-I can explain.”

Swiftly, suddenly, Joel recovered his phone from the floor. He set the other device aside and propped his feet on the coffee table, lounging a little more comfortably now that he could scroll the phone at his leisure. Before he did, though, he made a point to wipe the screen.

“Nothin’ I love more than ass sweat on my phone.”

Your cheeks heated to a thousand degrees.

You wished the ground below your feet would open up and swallow you whole. It was like you were floating somewhere over your own body, unable to move or speak. From this vantage point, and still paralyzed with fear, you could see Joel opening Hinge on his phone.

“Crazy how long the stuff sticks,” he mused aloud, starting to peruse his likes, “When you got up and high-tailed it outta my place that first day, I thought I must’ve been seein’ things—what with how wet my phone was.”

You would’ve closed your eyes in utter resignation if you’d had the strength. Joel had known this entire time.

The old man continued to scroll, cavalier as ever.

“I figured ya might’ve been havin’ some…personal time of your own on my phone—maybe your old man blocked PornHub on the home WiFi or somethin’—but then I kept diggin’ around…” As Joel spoke, his actions seemed to mirror his words, and he was really scoping out the app. Combing through profiles and roses and streams of old messages that you had sent, then shrugged to himself.

“…and all I found added up to jackshit,” he concluded.

This time, you managed to meet his gaze when he looked back up, but really, you hardly saw him at all.

Joel was smiling.

“I did see a text, though.”

He waved his phone, where a few messages were visible, though not legible, to you. You didn’t try to read them.

“‘Welcome to Hinge! Reply ‘C’ to confirm your phone number and get started,’” Joel rattled the first one off.

Of course you’d forgotten to delete the fucking text.

“And I know my memory’s all but gone to shit, but I didn’t remember ever replying ‘C’ myself, so then—”

“It was a joke,” you choked out, cutting him off.

Joel cocked a brow. He leaned even further back in his seat and crossed his feet. You were already vomiting words before he could attempt to get one out himself.

“N-Not a funny joke,” you clarified, voice shaking, “Fuckin’ stupid as shit, I just wanted to see— y’know— me and Tess were talkin’ ‘bout how hard it must be…in your…in your fifties— it’s just hard finding somebody.”

Joel didn’t know what you were trying to say, and his face showed it. You didn’t know what you were saying.

“So you think my sex life is a joke?” Mr. Miller quipped.

“NO!”

You hadn’t meant to say it so loudly. You quieted down:

“No. I didn’t…no. I just wanted to see who would…”

“…wanna fuck me?” he finished, blunt as ever.

If your face had been hot before, surely it was about to burst into flames right now. You didn’t get like this—not around Joel Miller, not around anybody—but here you were, chest constricting with humiliation and shame, wishing you were anywhere in the world but the place you were, and Mr. Miller was smiling, he was still smiling, and it was all you could do to just stand there and…stare.

And wince when tears started to prick at your waterline.

As if this day couldn’t get any more mortifying, you were actually crying in front of your neighbor, nose stinging and beginning to leak. Stupid, stuttered gasps leaving your lungs like you’d just learned to breathe yesterday, vision blurring the man in front of you and then dimming, momentarily, as you brought your hands up to your eyes and tried to shield this wretched display from his view.

You paced a couple hasty, blind steps away. You pressed the heels of your palms so hard into your sockets that stars started to dance behind your lids and a pain began to stab your brain. You continued to sob. It was just then dawning on you that you’d have to make a run for it now and never set foot near this man’s property again. You’d have to lock yourself away, never get to go to a barbecue again, probably face a restraining order from Joel and—

“FUCK!” you shrieked.

With all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates, you tumbled over Joel’s end table and took a nosedive into the floor. Your hands had no choice but to fly out in front of you in an effort to break your fall, and of course, they had to land on a lone, stray beer bottle on the ground.

One lovely little container of Corona Extra went splintering under the weight of your whole body, and briefly, before the thing exploded beneath your palm, you swore you could’ve heard a tiny, self-righteous voice:

‘¡La Vida Más Fina!’

Fuck you, Corona.

You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. Even if the bottle had managed to roll far enough to nick just the edge of your hand, slicing a minuscule strip of skin beneath your thumb, you still wanted to cry even harder. You looked pathetic, crumpled up beside this man’s couch with your wrist pinched between your fingers and your tears paving two steady streams down your cheeks. Hedged in by a field of shattered glass, you cast a look around yourself and whimpered. Then cursed. And cried.

You heard the shards around you crackle and snap even more when a pair of boots stepped in and crushed them.

Joel made easy work of your deadweight frame—your body hanging limply in his grip as he hoisted you up to your feet. Your vision was still as bleary as it had ever been, nose running and stinging and still struggling to take in breaths, but Mr. Miller’s hold was steady. He guided you into the kitchen and straight over to the sink.

Water ran. Wounds stung. A couple more sobs clawed out of your throat while Joel held your hand under the faucet, dabbed a paper towel across your hand to dry it off, then disappeared, momentarily, to retrieve what you assumed would be a first aid kit from the other room.

Instead, Mr. Miller returned with a fifth of Maker’s Mark. You eyed the bottle of whiskey in his hand and grimaced.

“N-Nuh-uh,” you blubbered, emphatic, “No way, man.”

“Uh, yes way, man,” Joel mimicked your voice, nose scrunching for dramatic effect as he elevated the pitch, “Like, you totally need this antiseptic so you don’t die.”

“I don’t s-sound like that!”

“I don’t so-o-und like that!”

Of course your neighbor couldn’t be assed to show an ounce of compassion to another person for more than two minutes. He drew closer with the whiskey. When he grabbed your wrist, you huffed and shook your head.

“That’s gonna hurt. I don’t want it.”

“Oh, cry me a fuckin’ river.”

Though as soon as he’d said it, the man winced a little. Maybe that had been a bit too harsh. You sniffled hard.

“Fuck you, Miller— I-I was doin’ you a favor!” you spat.

Tears and snot becoming the fuel for part of your newfound indignation, you shot Joel a look and scowled. You wrenched your hand out of his grip and made a point to rebuff the bottle of liquor as you moved back, shaking your head again. Mr. Miller stood there and watched you.

“Only time you ever leave this fuckin’ house is when you’re hangin’ out with my dad or your brother, you haven’t got shit else to do around here but mow that fuckass lawn and jerk off— I was tryin’ to help you out! Get you laid like any normal guy would like, but no, no— you’ve gotta go and be the world’s biggest ASSHOLE about it, just like you are with everything else. I’m sorry.”

Deep down, you were and weren’t remorseful at all.

You were sorry you’d gotten caught, ate shit over a side table and got your palm fucked up by a bottle of beer.

You weren’t as sorry that Joel seemed to be regarding you as a joke now—something to tease and poke fun at. Trying to pour his makeshift disinfectant over your cut and force you to obey his orders because you were just too dumb to figure it out yourself, then mock your voice.

Then watch you with tightly knit brows, eyes scanning your face with a skepticism that was almost palpable.

Condescending old fuck.

“What? Ain’t got nothin’ to say to that?” you seethed. Emotions running high—and humiliation momentarily usurped by anger—you stared him down and dared him to speak. You didn’t care what he thought of you now.

If it had been in your interest to care, you probably would’ve looked a little harder at what the man’s body language was communicating to you in the meantime. What his mouth was evidently loath to say, his hands and feet hardly displayed the same reticence: he set the bottle aside and stepped closer to you. He stared back.

It wasn’t until he’d approached near enough, had closed the space between your body and his with barely more than an inch or two to spare, and glowered down at you, face frozen with a frown, that your brain got the hint that he might not be the type to chicken out. Or back down.

He reached behind you and opened a cabinet.

“A favor,” Joel echoed, and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to replicate your intonation as he said it.

He’d just marginally checked his douchebag predilection, was closing the cabinet door beside your head and was starting to rock back on his heels, when a little cylindrical glass swung low in your line of vision. Joel held the tumbler loosely, then lifted it and pointed with his pinky.

“You,” he said, accusing, “fuckin’ suck at those—favors.”

Your stomach clenched at the sight of a slight, impish smile just then starting to frame the sides of his mouth. The featherlight grip he kept fastened on the glass, the ease of his stance, even the jab of that stupid, rough finger, still pointing at you, all bordered on nauseating. You fixed him with a pitiless look as he leaned in again.

And when his knuckles brushed your side, you tried not to flinch. You arrested his gaze without a word and let the smug, sun-tanned, sweet-as-shit-pie son of a bitch have his fill ogling you back and closing in on the bottle.

“What? Having half the tri-county population on Hinge ready to suck you off isn’t really your style?” you jeered.

Joel popped the cap and poured his drink. He shrugged.

“They ain’t you.”

As casual as if he’d just told you the weather forecast for the week ahead, his favorite place to eat, or the mundane specs on a construction project he’d been saddled with for months. Nothing of note. Nothing unknown. Just a routine admission of truth that sent your head reeling.

“You wh— w— well that’s—” you stammered, equal parts astonishment and exasperation as he continued to feed you steady, unrelenting doses of that look: “GROSS!”

You were standing stock-still, forced to watch that blip of a grin morph into a full smirk, slowly. He had to be joking.

“You are…fucked in the head, Miller. That’s not funny.”

Now you were the one pointing. Joel was drinking.

“—and I’d never in a million years even think—”

The side of your palm began to throb. It bled.

Blood was trickling down your wrist, roaring like thunder in your skull as your heart thudded away, impatient.

Impatient.

Impatient, impatient, impleeeeeeeeease fuck me, Joel, PLEASE!

Your libido a filthy, rotten traitor to all the rest of your better sense, you continued to stand there and suffocate on words like something akin to acid reflux in the throat. Your thighs snapped together, your back collapsed with equal force against the rigid set of cabinets behind it, and slowly, almost excruciating this time, you felt the pulse between your legs give way to a bout of warmth.

That cockhungry slut governing your bodily functions was actually getting wet for this asshole, and you were powerless to the effects of her wily, DILF-lusting ways.

“Gross,” you uttered out loud, again, reflexively—face overlaid with a look of horror as the heat began to pool.

And, as though the man had been endowed with the gift of infrared vision, or else just an external thermostat to gauge how hot you’d gotten between your two sweating legs, Joel brightened. His gaze flirted down to that soft, unseasonably tepid spot with a knowing look and then—

“Gross,” he parroted back. The smile behind his eyes said he wasn’t disgusted at all, just teasing some more.

When he pinched your wrist to get back to the business of blotting out blood with a paper towel, he kept that smug look painted across his creased, ancient face.

“‘S’that why ya made a Hinge for me? ‘Cause I’m gross?” Mr. Miller applied pressure to the still-bleeding cut, then directed your other hand to hold the paper towel in place.

You shook your head.

“No,” you started, trying not to wince before he turned. Again, the man ambled out of the kitchen, only to come back momentarily—finally—with a long-awaited bandaid.

“I mean…yeah, you’re a perv, but that’s beside the point.”

Joel exhaled a little harder through his nose. He pressed the underside of your palm again, ensuring the bloodflow had stopped, then swapped the napkin for the bandage. The adhesive might’ve been in place for two seconds before he was retreating again; this time, to the fridge.

“Then what was the point?”

Joel yanked one door open. You glanced over your shoulder to the one that led out to the back porch.

The longer you stayed, the harder it would be to go.

Go.

GO!

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

From where you were standing, you weren’t sure why you’d decided to make Joel the profile in the first place. Your curiosity, for one thing, had been one hell of a persuasive motivator to getting you scrolling on Joel’s behalf, but why did you care one way or another if your neighbor was drowning in pussy or enduring Sahara desert-levels of dick deprivation at his big age? It sure as fuck wasn’t your business to care, and nothing about Joel Miller had ever intrigued you consistently enough to venture an inquiry about his personal life before, so…

“Why?”

Joel was looming overhead again, the force of his presence like a fist through your chest. In an effort to steady your breaths, you turned your gaze away from his.

“I should go.” You couldn’t have dodged his last question more clumsily, or pathetically, if you’d tried, “It’s…late.”

Outside, the midday sun was still high in the sky, and there was nowhere in the world you had to be, Joel knew.

“Okay,” he said at length.

Then he leaned in closer and held something out.

“At least take one for the road, alright?”

And he was smiling, almost kind.

You looked down and—shit.

There it was, clear as day: a creamy piña colada popsicle.

The sneaky, conceited motherfucker had remembered what you’d written in his dating profile. You winced.

You accepted the cocktail popsicle without a word.

‘Thanks’ or ‘You’re a fucking pig, Miller’ likely would’ve sufficed for a farewell on any account, but by then, you were far too shell-shocked—and frankly, incredulous—of everything that had just transpired over the course of the last thirty minutes. You didn’t thank Mr. Miller, nor insult him by likening him to swine or any other thing; you left.

Your feet carried you fast out of his house.

Down the steps of his back porch, across pristine, power-washed concrete, past seemingly endless beds of hibiscus blossoms, marigolds, cape plumbago, and those god-awful periwinkle plants—who the fuck enjoyed gardening in a heatwave, anyway?—you practically sprinted away in a fugue state until the toes of your shoes hit the edge of your lawn, then you stopped.

“FUCK!”

You’d forgotten your phone.

It felt as though your body were turning in slow motion, and for a second, you seriously considered abandoning the device altogether and begging your dad for another. Then you set your sights on the wide, uninviting exterior of the back of your neighbor’s house, the place you’d just been hauling ass to escape, and almost rolled your eyes.

Joel was leaning back against the frame of his open back door, arms crossed, expression smug as he watched you.

It was extraordinarily difficult to throw a half-decent punch at a man while wielding a popsicle in your hand.

“Give it back!” you barked.

“Give what back?” Joel grinned, easily side-stepping what struck him as neither a punch nor a slap—in fact, the hit never struck him at all. He laughed as it missed.

“You know what.”

Of course, you’d gone back. Of course, Joel had tried to play dumb and pretend like you’d never left your phone behind at all. And of course, he hadn’t budged until you’d threatened to shove your left foot so far up his ass his dentist would be picking toes out of his teeth for weeks.

‘Violent little thing, ain’t ya?’ Joel had replied, chuckling.

Then, when he’d attempted to brush you aside with a patronizing wave of his hand and an admonition to run on back to daddy and quit buggin’ me, all bets were off. You’d aimed right for center mass and nearly dropped your frozen treat with how hard you’d shoved his chest.

That was how the conversation had started.

That was how the so-called ‘altercation’ had come to be—Joel easily swatting you off and indulging you no further than to chuckle and laugh and taunt you like an older brother who was faced with a sibling half his size—and all the while, your injured hand was throbbing again. White, sticky rivers of melted popsicle now trickled down your wrist instead of blood, and you were just as pissed.

“Listen—” Joel began, catching a fist meant for his face.

“Gimme my fuckin’ phone, Miller!”

“—you—”

“Can go to hell.”

“—owe me.”

“Owe you?!”

You stopped. Your weak, one-handed assault was halted just long enough to peer into Joel’s eyes, and the gaze that met yours was solid. Sincere as you’d ever seen it and blinking slow as the chocolate browns of his irises moved lower over you. Whether they were drinking you in, sizing you up, or merely plotting your demise by calculated turns, you could have been no more certain, or prepared to hear, what came out of his mouth next:

“Wanted to do me a favor, didn’t ya? C’mere.”

And the next thing you knew—or felt—was one thick finger hooking into your belt loops. One swift tug in his direction, another light push toward the old wood railing to your side, and then more fingers crowding in, crawling over, seizing the coarse denim material and pulling hard like the thing was the single most annoying impediment.

“Take these off,” Joel grunted.

You were too stunned to move. Even breathing felt like a chore, every last sense elevated to impossible heights, it wasn’t surprising at all when Joel just went and did it all himself. In a blink, your shorts were yanked down and then dropped to your ankles, your legs guided backward in shuffled steps, and then, nearly tripping in the fabric at your feet, you fell back, ass smacking the flat railing. You winced at the warm, knotty texture of the cedar beneath you and, out of habit, shot the old man a look.

Joel cocked a brow in response, likely already knowing what that glare from you was intended to convey, and instead of giving voice to any words himself, just sank.

Lower and lower and lower, until his knees were the only things holding him upright on the floor before you and his hands were pressing—melting—into your thighs.

Audibly, his kneecaps cracked.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

While Mr. Miller’s mouth moved dangerously close to a place you should’ve been appalled to see him go, all you felt capable of doing in that absurd moment, it seemed, was laugh. You gripped the thick white column beside you, scooted back slightly until you were in a comfier seated position, then snagged your lower lip between your teeth to contain the sound, but it was of no use.

Joel was both drooling and scowling between your legs.

“That funny, huh?” he managed in a low, ragged breath, “Sound’a some crackin’ joints on a man as old as me?”

“Yeah,” you said. Smug, for once.

Admittedly, any other normal person in your position would’ve been concerned with about a million different, more pressing issues—namely, your neighbor and dad’s best friend sticking his face between your legs—but really, after all the frivolity, commotion, and fucking insane behavior the two of you that day, it was like your brain had logged off and left the body to its own devices.

You didn’t mind that for right now.

When Joel’s tongue grazed the space between the cusp of your panties and inner thigh, you really didn’t mind.

Fuck it. If this was the favor he’d wanted after all, so be it.

As if reconsidering the foray of his mouth for the time being, Joel tilted back a little: just far enough to get his hands on your underwear and start tearing those down your hips too. One short, hot puff of air from his lips was a bliss unto itself, and your knees instinctively kicked up. With the thin white fabric barely halfway down one calf, you hooked your ankle over Joel’s shoulder and cursed.

“My daddy’s gonna kill you for this, Mr. Miller.”

And, for what felt like the thousandth time, Joel smiled.

Bigger this time, as if to show he didn’t really care at all what the man next door was liable to say or do about his present endeavor as long as he got to stay. You let him.

He pressed a kiss to your slick, puffy lips and hummed.

“Fine by me.”

Without another word the tip of the man’s tongue glided up the length of your slit and curled in, drawing your arousal between his lips in a hungry sort of kiss, and then sank even deeper. Going nose-deep in just one go, the old man looked positively obscene burying his face so far inside; his features alone a cruel, unseemly sort of fixture between legs as smooth and supple and warm as yours—how did a man so many years your senior get to be so lucky?—and somewhere further, in the darkest recesses of your mind, the sight sparked desire. A hunger, really.

Seeing that silver, stubbled chin getting drenched in your wetness, the weathered lines of his face growing even deeper with each new movement of his tongue, the strain in his neck with muscles that were firm and taut and so visibly aged with decades and decades of life—

You adored it.

A man Joel’s age never looked more out of place and still somehow perfectly fit for the space between your thighs.

You lowered the hand that was cradling your popsicle, braced your weight against the railing with the other, and then pressed on either side of his skull with your legs, quiet moans tumbling one after the next off your tongue.

“‘S’all for me?” Joel breathed, licking and suckling kisses along your clit, “This sweet, needy pussy’s all mine?”

“All yours.”

You scarcely recognized the sound of your own voice. Your legs were shaking. Though you loved to see him make you come undone, piece-by-piece, you also couldn’t bring yourself to stare a second longer, stimulation too great and his tongue too good.

If he kept going at a rate like this, you’d have no choice but to cum, and you didn’t want to be done just yet. Or ever. You refocused your gaze to look down and tell him as much, when your mouth fell open around a gasp, rather than words, and the weight in your hand fell away.

Swiftly, Joel took the popsicle in his own grasp and slid it down to the vicinity of his lips and tongue, now grinning.

The thing was half-melted by now, having sufficiently soaked half your forearm and leaving a vague, sugary aroma in its wake, but it was still intact. Still unlicked—unlike you—and still perfectly cool and light and long. The off-white hue was almost taunting in the way it winked and caught rays of the sunlight shining behind you, and as the man slid it even lower, you jumped back.

“Joel,” you hissed.

“What?” he hummed.

“That’s not—” You blinked, swallowing a moan.

“Not what?”

One warm, callused hand pressed the tip of the frozen thing to your bundle of nerves—the first contact it had had since Joel’s tongue—and you let out a low whine.

Even after all that time in the sun, the popsicle seared your soft, wet, aching parts with a biting cold you’d never thought possible. It sent waves of a strange, trembling pleasure coursing through your lower half and left your head with no choice but to moan. And fist Joel’s hair in a vice-like grip when he angled the wooden stick lower.

Suddenly, the white, sticky head slipped from your clit to the rim of your yet-untouched entrance, and that made your muscles leap to attention once again. You cursed.

“Not what, honey?” Joel pressed, with affection—and as he did, sank the tip of the popsicle deeper inside you.

“Th— that’s not—” You were shaking your head, racking your brain for any trace of the English language and failing miserably, “Not…doesn’t…g-go there, fuck.”

Joel sank the pretty, dribbling popsicle another inch inside your pussy and sucked a whistle through his teeth. If your senses weren’t as raw and utterly shot as they were, you likely would’ve seen the expression on his face transform from one of pleasure and amusement to awe, eyes darkening at the sight of your hole opening wider.

“That’s it, baby, take it,” he cooed, voice low.

Another couple soft utterances of ‘Joel,’ and your legs only parted wider. Free to grip his hair, the railing, the column beside you, or just the insides of your own palm as the icy sensation sank inwards and into your body, you whimpered. Your hips, instinctively, bucked toward the source, and you heard Joel’s groan join your sounds.

He withdrew his new toy just far enough to make you mewl for him again, then drove it deeper. With the friction of that, a stream of white went trickling out.

Joel couldn’t help himself; he flattened his tongue against the stream and licked you clean from the spot where he’d split you open to the cusp of your clit. He circled that place over and over, worked the object in his hand even further inside and back out again, then, getting a taste of your arousal with the white, wet, sticky-sweet juices starting to mix together, he moaned.

It was a guttural sound, something just shy of the ‘feral’ demarcation but at least ten steps ahead of desperate. You relished the gruff, throaty sound reverberating from his lips to your cunt, the way your walls fluttered around it and for him, and were just about to throw your head back and grind your hips even harder when it stopped.

Joel stopped. He started to get up.

Quickly for him, but slow as molasses from your point of view, the man straightened from his place on the hard wooden floor and expelled a breath. His chest heaved, and his torso twisted to one side, momentarily, to get the strain out of his back as best he could. From where you sat, the spattering of grey in his beard seemed to glisten even brighter with the sheen of your arousal now sticking in it. He wiped his chin and reached in between your legs.

“Got any favors left in ya, sweet pea?” he smirked.

Fortunately for you, it didn’t sound like a question at all, and didn’t appear to be intended that way, as the next second had Joel pulling the largely-spent popsicle out of your slick and straight into your mouth. He didn’t inquire whether he could push it down on your tongue and make you taste your own cunt on the thin wooden stick, but the smile on your lips assured him that was fine by you.

Nor did he ask for your permission to flip you around, bend you over his porch railing, and take your hips in his hands. You were still sucking down the last traces of sugar and citrus and a vaguely tangy taste when you felt the head of something else prod your soft, wet folds.

Much bigger—and warmer—than the thing that had breached you before, Joel nudged at your hole with the tip of his cock, coated the head of it in light, gentle circles, and sucked in a breath. He didn’t have to ask, and you didn’t need to answer; he just parted your walls with the force of one steadying thrust, and the pulse of that sharp, dizzying pleasure was back in an instant.

Shared this time, and manifesting in sounds from you and Joel alike: you gritting the stick between your teeth and managing muffled cries of his name and whatever expletives you could scream, Joel with ragged breaths.

For a man who ostensibly hadn’t fucked since the Clinton administration, he was off to a pretty good start.

Joel gripped your hip even tighter and started to saw his cock in and out of your dripping, pliant hole, his other fist finding purchase in your hair for more leverage. His thrusts were shallow enough at first to get you used to the new stretch, and you could feel him making space in a way no man’s girth ever had before. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined it had come to settle into a mix of guilt, rigid composure, and pussydrunk pleasure.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured behind you. Then, groaning, “Good fuckin’ girl, keep squeezin’ my cock just like that.”

You felt a slap on the ass and the speed of his thrusts pick up in turn. Your mouth fell open in a moan, and the stick on your tongue almost slipped out of place when, shortly, Joel leaned over your body and pulled you back. He snagged the popsicle stick between his teeth just in time to get your back flush with his front—in perfect position to get fucked against the nearest column.

Breaths coming out in short, ragged grunts in your ear, Joel teased the side of your face with the stick, then nudged it back in your mouth. You sucked it softly.

“One more favor, baby?” he panted against your cheek.

You nodded, not knowing what it was but that you wanted to be the one giving it. Joel pulsed inside you.

With every stab of his cock, every string of your wet, messy, combined arousals making the most profane noises imaginable between your body and his, you were squeezing him tighter and teetering on release. Joel’s hand snaked down between your legs, and just as the head of his cock nudged against that spot, you keened.

“Any favor?” Joel groaned and nipped at your earlobe.

The heft of his stomach and chest made for a warm, sturdy place to start rocking your hips, greying peach fuzz at the base of his belly a small comfort as you writhed against his body and whined that you’d do anything, anything he wanted, as long as he let you cum.

Joel’s middle finger found your clit, and you nearly screamed at the welt of pleasure coming to a head. Again, the popsicle stick tumbled out, but neither one of you could be bothered to try and keep it in this time.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

The man behind you didn’t even attempt to conceal his grin as he leaned closer, hugging your body to his while he circled your clit and fucked you harder, lips straying every now and then to press a kiss on your shoulder. He plunged his cock deeper and was met with a squeezing, leaking mess trickling down his length and onto his balls, growing louder with each new wet slap against your ass. The old man was a tease, but he couldn’t hold on forever.

“Wanna fill you up,” Joel groaned.

“Cum inside?” you murmured.

You were barely able to tilt your chin to him, but when you did, he held it—made you look him in the eyes and, for once, give your unequivocal permission to do it then.

And you did.

You were startled to find Joel’s lips crashing against yours in the next second, mouth overwhelmed with the remains of your own taste, his tongue, and a series of relentless, hammering thrusts. It was only a matter of moments, then, before your resolve gave way and his followed suit, and the waves of pleasure between you both manifested in ropes of sticky, hot cum painting your walls. Joel held you closer, as though needing to feel his seed as he fucked you through it, groaning when he felt it start to move with each sharp, stuttered thrust.

You panted in his mouth coming down. You kissed him back. You almost couldn’t believe the sensation between your legs, soon to come dripping out and undoubtedly bound to make a mess all over the floor of Joel’s porch.

Equally unbelievable was the fact that you’d just fucked your neighbor in broad daylight, outside, with Marlene’s house directly to your left and your own on the right.

You stared out at the sprawling expanse in front of you—Joel’s impeccably kempt yard, one of the reasons why you were standing where you were just then—and, as you’d found yourself before, you felt the urge to laugh.

Not on account of Joel’s old, ailing knees, this time.

Clearly, the man still trying to catch his breath behind you suspected that that might’ve been the case, though, because you felt him shift his weight and grunt, lightly.

“What’s so funny? My knees crack when I cum, too?”

You could feel the smallest of scowls start to take shape, muted momentarily with kisses that he pressed on your cheek, and others, still more teasing, down your neck.

You let him, unfazed and still giggling. Then pointing.

It seemed Joel was loath to detach his lips from your neck—or his cock from the place he’d just stuffed full—but when you lifted your finger to indicate a direction toward the side of his backyard, his senses perked up.

There, along the white picket fence between his yard and Marlene’s, was the furry, merciless, lawn-destroying labradoodle that had been plaguing Joel’s life for years.

The man was out of you in an instant. He yanked his jeans up even quicker, tucking his dick back, clumsily, into its place in a fit of rage, then cupping his hands:

“WILL YOU FUCK THE HELL OFF, SPARKY?!”

#REMEMBER - JUST BECAUSE JOEL PUTS A POPSICLE IN YOUR P*SSY DOES NOT MEAN YOU SHOULD DO THE SAME IRL!!!! I’M SO SERIOUS #PLEASE PROTECT YOUR PH AND DON’T PUT SWEETS DOWN THERE LMAOAKSK #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou

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samkerrworshipper · 2 months ago

Text

the lawn is dead

it’s suicide awareness month and i want to emphasise the importance of reaching out. you are loved. there are options. you will be missed. suicide is a permanent solution to temporary problems. you can get better. you are not a lost cause. talk to somebody.

warnings: reader discretion advised. heavy suicide, self harm, depression themes

There was an overall assumption that all children were born innocent.

Not you.

You swore that when you were born, a coin was flipped, and it landed on the complete wrong side.

Sometimes you felt like your brain and body were disconnected, that everything inside of you worked separately, like you were a sewed together body on the inside, a internal frankenstein.

It was tough feeling like you didn’t belong in your own boyd, but it was even harder when you knew that you were an imposter inside.

It was ironic, that you had imposter syndrome, and yet there was nothing wrong with your life.

There had been.

Had. No longer. Past tense.

You’re supposed to be happy, you suppose. You have the world at your feet, you have the life everybody wants, the world is your oyster.

It doesn’t matter how many times you rotate those thoughts through your split up brain, it never sinks in, because there is a deeply onset belief inside of you that can’t deny the dishonesty behind the words.

You should be happy, you should be utilising the gifts you’ve been given, you should be appreciating the life you have, and yet all of it just feels like a big ball of tangled up yarn, a clump of knots and mess that makes no sense.

You’re not allowed to feel numb, so you try and pinpoint what it is that you are feeling.

Are is too hard, so you start with aren’t.

You aren’t mad, you aren’t sad or it doesn’t feel like normal sadness, you’re definitely not happy, not scared, are not anxious, it feels like nothingness.

Yet nothingness doesn’t feel so all consuming, nothingness is lying in bed down in bed and doomscrolling until somehow 8 hours have passed and you’ve wasted a whole day and don’t find yourself caring. Nothingness is sitting down in the shower and covering your ears with your hands and finding solace in the intense rain noises. Nothingness is driving until you forget where you were supposed to be going and have autopiloted your way to the opposite side of town somehow. Nothingness is being so obsolete of your own body that everything is a fog, nothing makes sense, you’re devoid of all emotions and all the discombobulated sections of your body.

If anything, this is everythingness, this is all the feelings in the world beating down across your skin. You’re itching with agitation, itching with everything in your life and yet none of it penetrates the surface beyond the rotor of thoughts that continue to circulate like the blood in your veins.

It’s like your sitting inside a plastic bubble, and every variable is crashing down against the plastic. It’s all there, it’s crashing down, but it doesn’t touch you, it doesn’t penetrate, there is just a constant reminder that it’s all there. If you try to break out of the bubble you’re forced to face it, but you feel like you’re suffocating and the bubble is slowly depriving you of oxygen.

A part of you wouldn’t mind for it to suck the life out of you.

Sometimes it’s inevitable, letting the thoughts in your brain win, or syncing the truth out so much that it all distorts into a messy mixture of non-emotions that are more hurtful then helpful.

You’re in a weird funk, that’s hwat you keep telling yourself. With injuries and off-season and change of seasons. You tell yourself that it’s unescapable, that there aren’t any ways to escape the deadly habit that is you’re self-inflicted brain rotting and slowly decomposing.

There are outlets, there are options, but in it;s current state you’re brain denounces them all.

Occasionally, you’re brain falls into the same death trap that it was conditioned into as a child. Survival was solely your own responsisbility, there was no leaning, no relying, just yourself and your own strategies that occasionally kept you functioning.

Most of the time you were fine, most of the time you were able to isolate the darkest, disconnected fragments of your body but not all the time.

Sometimes you don’t though.

Every so often, you suffocate yourself, intentionally or unintentionally isn’t always clear, sometimes you’re so lacking on oxygen and everything that makes survival a possibility that you just stop. Those times, when you stop, when you fall, when you plummet. It’s when you drop into the death pit of unthinkable thoughts.

It’s when you get to the part of your brain that you wish had never been stitched up with all the others.

You try and avoid it, if you work hard on a normal day then you can normally disconnect it from the functioning parts that you rely on, but occasionally, when you’re left to fend for yourself that one part that’s normally off, lights up like a christmas tree.

It flashes bright red, like a alarm in the deepest parts of your brain, and it won’t stop flashing until you do something about it.

You’ve got coping mechanisms that you’ve developed over the years, running, football, eating, cooking, reading, sleeping, sex. None of it has even begun to strike the surface, normally your best bet was sleeping it off, depression, or depressive thoughts always seemed to fade with sunlight, it was the moments in the dark when everything suddenly felt… heavier.

You hadn’t been able to sleep since you’d gotten injured, everything was harder when you had so much weight on your back. Weight to recover, weight to get stronger, weight to be the same on the pitch.

It was a minor injury, some grief with your ankle ligaments that weren’t actually injured but also weren’t fixed, it was annoying, and everyday was a drag.

A drag of back and forth recovery and rest that had your mind buzzing from the inside.

It was no secret that you didn’t handle injuries well, you craved the physicality of being a professional athlete, your brain needed the stimulation that it involved. Without it, you struggled, it was clear to everybody around you that you couldn’t function sitting on the sidelines, it had inevitably made you crazy.

You were walking on eggshells, your friends had tried to point it out to you and you’d ignored it up until now.

It was impossible to ignore it at this stage though.

It was all you could think about, the constant pain, the overwhelming brain fuzz, the weight of it all.

Over and over and over and over and over again.

Your hands are shaking, your breaths are staggered, your skin is prickly, your throat is dry, your body is cold and there is a deep set pain in the centre of your stomach that no matter how many times you try and shift it away nothing works.

You’re too deep.

Your whole life, it had always been your biggest wish that the part of you that was broken and threaded together would fix itself, medication made it manageable, therapy made it calmer, but sometimes in life it was impossible to contain the uncontainable. Life was unpredictable, and yet your circumstances were on trend with how your life had been recently.

You should have seen this coming, but a part of you thinks that you did and you’d been content with letting all of these thoughts infiltrate deep in your mind.

Sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror, and you can’t even notice it, it’s like all of the pain and trauma will fall so far from the surface on occasion that you’re foolish enough to believe that maybe it’s all finally gone.

Not now, not at all.

But a part of you wants to make it all gone.

It’s all you can think about, you know how easy it would be, you have it all planned out.

The letters are written, the plan has been made for years, it’s your execution that is lacking.

You aren’t scared, you are more than happy for a big blac cloud of nothingness to come and take you from your life, it would make it all so much easier.

You just need to know that you’ll succeed.

Failure is not an option, in ever single part of your life it hasn’t ever been. But specifically with your life.

If you’re out, you’re out, end of sentence.

There isn’t any recovery, there isn’t any coming back, no psych holds, no hospitals, no treatment, just death. It’s an answer, it’s conclusive. Right now it would solve all of your problems, literally, you could count on every single finger and toe how it would solve the fucked-up puzzle of your life. Normally, there is always something holding you back though. Football had been the main excuse for most times, the headlines would be miserable and all of the fuss and fake-sentiment would be so much worse. Once it had been because you were in love, and that was the best reason. But, like most thing you were unable to keep it alive, and so it died out.

It was all a metaphor for your life, football had been good, until it all slowly self-detonated, love had been good but you were a ticking time bomb of sabotage.

It would be oh so easy.

You knew the tips and tricks, you’d been thinking about it for years. Four long vertical lines, deep enough to need stitches but not deep enough that it would all fade immediately. You wanted to feel the pain, you wanted it all to be a big black and red painful mess, your vision swimming and body giving up because of the pain, not because of the damage you’d done.

It sounded so perfect.

It would be oh so easy, nobody would even notice, it would probably be days before anybody even realised you were gone. You would fade from earth and life like nothing, and nobody would care, and you were happy for it to be that way. You were happy to just disappear, you wanted it all to end.

It’s all hitting that hard, you don’t want help, you don’t want to feel normal, you don’t want treatment, you don’t want meds, you just want to be gone. You normally experience life with so many emotions, too many, but right now, in the bubble of your depression, the only think you feel is a desire to vanish.

There isn’t any hesitation, nothing holding you back as you pick up your poison of choice. It’s always been the same since you were a teenager, you’ve known how you’d go out from the minute it had gone downhill from the very first time. That had been a long time ago now, but not much had changed. Sure, maybe your face had matured a bit, you’re body had changed with being a professional athlete, and you weren’t as self destructive but really when it all boiled down nothing had truly changed.

You were the same broken, lost and alone girl that you had always been.

The same girl hiding in the corner of her bathroom in a pair of sweats that made her body seem so much smaller then it was, a razor blade in one shaky hand and the other hand busy forcing the sleeve of her hoodie up, leaving a easily accessible patch of skin.

It was the same old routine, except this time with a different intention.

You had your scars, you had your invisible marks that nobody could see but you. You were as good at hiding them as you were at your depleting mental health. Over the years you’d learnt how to hurt yourself without leaving permanent marks, you’d learnt how to hide it all from the people closest to you.

Until Alexia.

Love made a person dumb, and being in love with Alexia made you happier then you’d ever experienced and from the moment fireworks had gone off between the two of you, your barriers had fallen down. It had been good, until it hadn’t. Once again, you were left all alone, due to your own self-destructive habits. You couldn’t let yourself be happy, you didn’t know what long term happiness looked like for you and it was terrifying.

It had all been downhill from there, if there was no happiness in the future for you then what was the point? Your life was blowing up, football was the only thing you’d ever lived for and you still had football but football wasn’t for ever, if there was nothing beyond that then what was the point. You didn’t have a education, and whilst you earnt a decent amount off of football, it wasn’t enough to live off of, and now you had nobody else to live for.

Your life, from your perspective, had become pointless.

Whilst you were certain that your behaviour and gone unnoticed, that was far from the truth.

Most of your teammates had picked up on your particularly low mood. You weren’t ever the happiest person in the locker room, one of the more lowkey people who always allowed yourself to fade into the shadows. But that didn’t mean that people didn’t notice you, especially the people who had come to care for you.

You were injured, and that had come to be the main justification for your particularly down moods, but there was also a sneaking suspicion across some of your teammates that something more was wrong, that there was some other kind of cause for the way you dragged yourself around the gym and rooms during your days spent doing rehab.

You looked lifeless, like everything human about you had been drained.

Alexia knew it was something more, in her time with you, she’d learnt about your struggles and just when she thought that you’d started to open up to her, you’d cut it all off. So whilst she didn’t know the extensive history, she knew you had your demons, and that whatever was haunting you this time around wasn’t going to dissapear anytime soon.

Alexia could say that she didn’t care about you anymore, but it would make her a liar.

She’d always hoped that the two of you would make your way back to eachother, that you’re insistence that the two of you weren’t meant to be was overshadowed by the doubt you’d always about the relationship would somehow flip and you’d realise no matter how many issues you had Alexia was prepared to love you through all of them.

But as the time passed from the breakup, you only distanced yourself more. The person that Alexia had tried to bring out shrunk right back into it’s shell. Everyone on the team had been elated to see you find your footing with Alexia, it was the first time in your years at Barca that everyone started to meet you as a person and not just as a footballer. Alexia thought it had meant things were looking up for you, but all good things came to an end.

You’d been appearing like you’d slowly been slipping further down a slope, the bags underneath your eyes getting bigger, your sluggish behaviour getting worse, your determination to do you rehab dwindling and your willingness to interact with any person at the club being completely non-existent.

You were anti-social at the best of times, but completely diverting from all interactions was new for you and Alexia hadn’t been the only one to notice, it was evident to anybody with a brain that something was wrong, Alexia had no idea though just how wrong it all was.

The coincidence of an away Madrid game during the time that it was clear you were tanking was something that Alexia was particularly annoyed by. There was no plausible excuse for her to stay back from the trip, she was the captain, and she was perfectly fit to play. Plus, she had no obligation to you, you’d washed your hands of Alexia months ago and whilst Alexia still felt lingering concern for you she couldn’t justify staying back for what could potentially be nothing.

That didn’t mean though that she was going to just leave you be, not when she was so certain that there was something truly wrong.

Alexia wasn’t exactly sure of the severity of your trauma. She knew that your relationship with your parents was frayed to say the least, that you didn’t talk to them at all anymore and every time Alexia had tried to ask about them she had been met with a cold shoulder. So after a few tries she’d stopped trying, she didn’t know what it was like to have a disconnected family, she couldn’t relate or empathise with your issues and it killed her.

She knew you took medications, she had no idea what, you kept your daily medication closely guarded, but she knew it had something to do with your mental health. She didn’t ask about it, Alexia had been through your shut downs with you, and she knew broaching the subject of your mental health could be so detrimental to your mindset. She let you show her as much as you wanted to, she ignored the scars on your body, ignored the way that she recognised the complete disregard you had for your body. It was clear in every single aspect of your life that you had a little bit less concern then everybody else did. You put your body on the line in football, in ways that made Alexia furious. You didn’t flinch away from pain, if anything you stepped into the line of fire.

You hid injuries, you hid sickness, you pushed through it all. It was terrifying for Alexia as a partner to watch you continuously put yourself on the line and act like it was completely nothing. By the end of your relationship it was getting hard to watch it happen.

Your ankle injury was a result of that, you hadn’t even been the one ton sideline yourself. It had fallen down to Irene catching a glimpse of your purple and black swelled up ankle after a training session and her marching you to the team physio to get it checked out. It wasn’t shocking to Alexia, but it did make her wonder how many time you’d chosen to hide your pain in favour of putting up a brave face and pushing through, in all aspects of your life.

Alexia was worried and yet she felt as though she had no right to be.

She’d let you push her away, knowing that in some way or another it could be hurting not just her but you, realisatically she couldn’t do anything about it. If you didn’t want to be in a relationship with her she couldn’t force you, but a part of her thought she might have let go a little to easy.

For her, you would be the one that got away.

She wasn’t ready to let you get away yet though.

Really, if she thought about it, it was Mapi who had highlighted that you weren’t okay, and that maybe it was time for somebody to reach out to you. Mapi had come to care a lot about you, she’d seen how broken both you and Alexia were after the split, Alexia was still functioning though, you seemed like you were losing energy for life as everyday passed.

Mapi had been the one to suggest that she’d check on you whilst everyone else was gone, Mapi being stuck behind with some minor twinges in her knee, it was more precautionary than anything that she took the weekend off. She was more then happy though to be a good friend and spend some extra time with you if it meant getting to the bottom of whatever had been going on.

Her intentions had been to bring around a fresh meal, her mama’s old tapa recipe that always managed to light up Ingrid’s face. If her tapas earned her a way into your apartment then she was hoping to sit down with you, maybe have a chat, watch whatever football watch was on. Something, she wanted some kind of proof that you were okay, that even though you were going through a rough time that you manage, that at some point you would come out of this funk and you would go back to the old version of yourself. Maybe better, maybe you would unearth some kind of happiness from you situation and you would be better off because of it.

Mapi knew the odds of all of that were drastically low, but she was also the optimist of everything, it was the reason that she was so good at making uncomfortable people feel more settled in the team. She knocked on your front door with a extra bit of pep in her, hope that somehow she was going to resolve all of the underlying issues that everyone had been expressing for weeks now but had been too afraid to unearth. Mapi was certain that her approach might actually help, that instead of being the authoritative figure that Alexia, Irene, Marta and Patri were as your captains. Mapi was here as a friend, nothing more and nothing less and she hoped that would maybe encourage you to open up to her.

Mapi waited at least a minute after her initial knock before knocking again.

Your car had been beside Mapi’s when she’d parked downstairs, so she knew you were home. It wasn’t late, but it also wasn’t early enough that Mapi could rule out the possibility of you being asleep. Alexia had shoved her old key to your apartment into Mapi’s hand before she’d left, there weren’t any instructions, but the pure desperation in Alexia’s eyes was making Mapi feel compelled to use it.

Her third knock on the door was met with more silence.

You were probably sleeping.

There were parts of Mapi crawling with the emerging feeling of anxiety, she just needed to see you. You’d skipped your gym session today, something that was extremely abnormal for you, it had been worrying enough for Mapi, but you not responding to her now was sending her into a full on spiral.

“It’s Mapi, if you could open up for me please chica, I have some food for you.”

Mapi doesn’t even hear furniture creak.

She repeats what she said again, and is met with complete silence.

“Chica, are you in there? Are you awake? Just answer me, you don’t have to open the door.”

Mapi, if she looks really hard, can make out the faintest glow underneath your door, maybe a lamp?

Mapi waits a few more seconds, and sprinkles in some aggressive knocks. She’s met with nothing in response.

She digs around desperately in her pocket for the key, her fingers eventually coming into contact with the weight of the key in the back pocket of her jeans.

She pulls it up to the door knob with regret coursing through her veins, she doesn’t feel good about invading your privacy, but she feels even worse about everything else, and it’s all enough to overshadow her concern for your feelings about being left alone. After all, you might just be asleep.

The key makes a click after Mapi turns it counterclockwise twice, Mapi reaches for the door knob, it’s the final barrier between her and you, and without much hesitation she pushes the knob down and it opens.

Mapi shivers with the frigid breeze that comes at her as she steps into your apartment.

As soon as her foot hits your wooden floor she can tell something is off, she doesn’t know what but she can just feel it.

Mapi walks into your apartment slowly, with a quick scan of your kitchen and living space she is certain the room is empty. She leaves her dish of tapas on the couter of your kitchen and surveys the room before hesitantly making her way into your hallway. The door to your guest room is open, so naturally Mapi looks in there first.

“Chica, I came in to drop off some food, are you home?”

Mapi, whilst she can’t physically see you anywhere, has a weird kind of sense that you are here, she’s just not sure where.

The guest room is completely empty, in fact, mapi is sure that there is dust lying on top of the spare sheets. She can’t remember the last time you mentioned having somebody stay, at the very start of your signing to Barca, occasionally girls from your National team would come and visit during breaks. Mapi remembers that time, she wouldn’t have said you were happy, but you seemed a bit more content. It was best Mapi had seen you before Alexia.

Mapi is fairly familiar with your apartment, between game nights, post game drinks and double dates she’d spent enough time in your apartment to know where everything was.

Your main bathroom was empty, leaving your bedroom and ensuite.

Mapi felt like she’d invaded enough of your privacy, your bedroom might be the over step.

But there was the clawing feeling, the same feeling that she’d gotten when she’d walked into the apartment that something was wrong, and she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight without getting to the bottom of it.

So with much apprehension, Mapi walks the rest of the way down the hallway and to the door of your bedroom.

Mapi swears that she has sweat through her shirt, even though your apartment feels colder than the Norwegian winter she’d recently experienced.

Her hands are all sweaty, the same they get before any match, she doesn’t know where her nerves are coming from, she doesn’t have anything to worry about, yet.

Mapi knocks as quietly on your bedroom door as possible, she’s made her mind up that if you are sleeping she’ll leave a note with her tapas and take her leave, she doesn’t need to disturb you.

“Chica, I came here to drop some food off, just make a noise and I’ll leave you.”

Mapi waits for what feels like eternity, and after a long stretch of silence she takes the leap.

She opens the door as quietly as possible, and feels defeated when she spots your complete empty bed.

Everything looks normal, in a weird kind of way. Your sheets are made up, almost pedantically. All the corners tucked in and pillows positioned like they would be in a catalogue.

The only light in the room is the light that is filtering in from your ensuite, underneath the door. It’s bright enough that Mapi can see around the room.

She wants to leave. But she can’t, not without checking.

There is a off chance that you’ve gone on a walk, an activity that definitely was not approved by your physios but she supposed you’d never really obeyed them in the first place.

It’s one last room, your apartment seems so devoid of life that Mapi is confident that it’ll be empty.

She tiptoes across your bedroom, everything about this feels so wrong, like she’s invading somebody’s life that she doesn’t even know anything about.

Mapi knocks on your bathroom door.

“Chica, if you’re in there, just let me know and I’ll leave you be.”

Silence. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a squeak.

Mapi’s hand is so sweaty that it nearly slips off of the handle on the door, she doesn’t know why she’s nervous, she doesn’t have any reason to be nervous. Yet it also feels like there are a millon under lying reasons.

Mapi plucks up the courage, because she has to, and twists the knob.

Away games are always a weird mixture of relaxing but also having absolutely no time to yourself.

Alexia’s least favourite part about away games is team bonding. Following the first team dinner of every away trip it’s customary to do some kind of team bonding exercise. She understands that it’s important, but after a long train trip to Madrid the last thing she wants is to spend hours trying to get out of an escape room with no phone and all of the younger girls talking her ear off. What Alexia wants is to get back to the hotel and sleep. Yet she’s stuck in a confined space with girls that she loves but wants nothing more to get away from.

Caro and Keira seem to be in the same mindset as her, the three of them all keeping as far away from the ruckus as possible. After two hours of the madness, Vicky of all people manages to get to the bottom of the puzzle and somehow unlocks the door, Alexia isn’t sure of the logistics of it and she doesn’t really care.

The girls all celebrate as the file out, but there is an overall feeling that everybody is ready to head back to the hotel and go to sleep.

Phones are handed back and Alexia almost pockets hers, to tired to look at whatever messages or instagram notifications she has. But it’s the sea of missed calls that catch her attention.

Alexia’s heart drops.

She’s got dozens of missed calls from Mapi and she knows from the minute she sees her call log that something is wrong.

All Mapi can remember is the amount of blood.

It was so red against your white bathroom tiles.

So much blood. Mapi was certain that there wasn’t that much blood in the human body, and yet it just kept leaking out, even as she pressed your towels to your arm, it kept leaking through.

She vaguely remembers going through her very basic medical training. Checking your pulse, it took a while for her to find it but eventually she does. She doesn’t know if it weak or it’s just her shaking hands that can’t pin your pulse down.

She uses a leftover hair tie on her wrist as a tourniquet, she doesn’t think it’s working but she has nothing else.

Compression.

She vaguely remembers her call with the emergency services, struggling to find words but forcing them out of her mouth because she had to.

The lady on the other side of the phone talks her through it, tells Mapi that she’s doing the right things, she walks Mapi through what to do if you stop breathing. Mapi thinks you are, your chest lifts every so slightly every few seconds, but it’s so subtle Mapi swears she might be imagining it.

The lady tells Mapi that eventually your blood should clot, but Mapi finds it hard to believe. Her hands and shirt are covered in blood, your blood, it’s everywhere, red and thick and it’s overwhelming Mapi. Your bathroom looks like a crime scene, a murder scene, and Mapi supposes it almost is.

When the paramedics show up, Mapi doesn’t know what to do, they’re so methodical. One of them talks to Mapi whilst their partner attends to you, Mapi’s hands are shaking, her hands, covered in your blood. She should have taken that extra medical course that they’d offered all the players at the start of the season, maybe it would have prepared her better. Nothing prepares a person for what Mapi just did though, no amount of medical training or training courses could ever prepare a person for what Mapi just saw.

The paramedic assures Mapi that she did everything right, that you wouldn’t be alive without her, and those words make it all worse. Dead. You could have been dead. The paramedic offers to take Mapi to the hospital with you, but she declines, she needs a minute, she needs to have a second to think about herself. The paramedic tells Mapi the name of the hospital they’ll be taking you and takes her name and number to give to the nurses as your contact.

They whisk you off right in front of Mapi’s eyes.

Your body is white, you look so lifeless.

Once you’re gone, Mapi closes the door to your bathroom, she can’t look in there, not at the raw amount of evidence that you’ve left behind. It’s already all over her body, she doesn’t need to see anymore of it.

She sits down on your tight sheets, and she realises that there is a piece of paper sitting at the edge of your bed, a letter.

Mapi cries when she sees it, she lets it all out.

It’s addressed to Alexia and Mapi doesn’t need to read it to know what it’s intention was, what your intentions were, if it wasn’t already confirmed then this only assures it.

Mapi leaves red finger prints on it, picking it up and collecting some of your clothes from your wardrobe before leaving your apartment.

Alexia clicks on Mapi’s contact with so much fear coursing through her body, she’s praying that it’s not here mami, not when Alexia is away.

“Ale-Alexia, thank god you picked up, gracias a dios.”

Mapi’s voice is quivering, Alexia’s not sure if she’s ever heard her voice like that before.

“Maria, what’s wrong? Why did you call so many times?”

There is a sob on the other end of the line, and Alexia starts to pray, to any god that whatever Mapi is about to tell her isn’t going to be bad, she can’t handle bad news right now.

“She was supposed to be sleeping, I was so sure she was sleeping. There was so much blood, I thought, I didn’t think there was enough blood in a person’s veins but there was so much of it, it just kept leaking out of her.”

Alexia’s heart and stomach are at her feet, she clutches for a wall, a solid form that she can rely on so that she doesn’t collapse.

“Who, Maria, who? What are you talking about, where are you?”

There is another sob, a deep sob, like Mapi’s being tortured.

“Y/n, I went to visist her like you’d asked, an-and she was, I thought she was dead.”

Alexia heart feels like it’s on a rollercoaster, like it’s returned to a normal level for a second, before plummeting even deeper.

“What do you mean Maria, what are you talking about.”

Somebody in the group must have realised Alexia’s discomposure, because she can feel a group of eyes on her, like everybody is trying to figure out what is happening on the other end of the phone.

“She left a letter, she-she I thought she was dead Ale, why would somebody do that to themselves? Why would she want to do that to herself.”

Alexia is aware that Mapi is clearly in some kind of post-traumatic state, that it’s going to be hard to get to the bottom of this but she’s managed to string the details together. From what Mapi’s said, you’re still alive, but it can’t be good, not by how Mapi has made it sound.

“Maria, I need you to listen to me. Where are you? Where is she? What is wrong with her.”

Alexia can hear Mapi trying to take some deep breaths on the other side of the line, somewhere in the crowd Ingrid is pushed forward, looking at Alexia with so much confusion. Mapi doesn’t often have anxiety or panic attacks, but if she were, Ingrid is certain that she would be the first person for Mapi to call, yet she’s received none.

“I-I’m at the hospital with her, she’s been moved to the ICU, I haven’t seen her yet but the nurses told me they had to perform CPR in the ambulance and that she was rushed to surgery when she got here. She’s been stable since but she’s in critical condition.”

Alexia doesn’t know what to do, she wants to be with you.

“Maria, I’m going to hand you off to Ingrid okay, talk to her, let her calm you down. I’m going to talk to the staff and try and figure out a way for me to come home, talk to Ingrid, okay?”

Ingrid looks confused but takes the phone from Alexia regardless, allowing Alexia to walk towards the staff, her face sullen and body hurting from the pressure of all of this.

Mapi thinks you look worse, somehow.

All of the wires and cords and the bags and needles make your body look wrong. Nobody should need so many weird connections, yet considering the state you were in Mapi is oddly comforted by it all, she wants you to be getting as much help as your body needs.

She still got your blood on her, one of the nice nurses had helped her to wash it off her hands and arms, and Mapi had stolen one of your sweatshirts she’d haphazardly grabbed as a replacement for her shirt, but she can still feel it on her body.

She’s been sitting in the same chair since the nurses let her in to your room, it’s next to the window, so when Mapi feels compelled to cry, or can’t handle looking at your body any longer because it gives her a flashback, she looks out the window at the bustling city of Barcelona below her and it oddly comforts her. Life goes on, everyone elses life goes on, but yours almost didn’t.

Her mind goes to dark places thinking about the what if she hadn’t of come to check on you? Mapi knows the answer to that question, even a few minutes later and your body would have been even more lifeless then when Mapi found it, except maybe instead of most of life being drained from you, all of it would have been.

They still don’t know for sure what it’s going to look like when you wake up, Mapi was hardly paying attention when the doctors came to talk to her, they were speaking so many words that Mapi couldn’t even pretend to know the meaning of. She remembers bits and pieces, the parts that she knew she’d have to remember in case Alexia called again and wanted an update.

You’d lost a lot of blood but they were working to try and replenish it, you’d needed nearly 100 stitches all together, the scars were all about 6 inches long and just almost ½ and inch deep. You didn’t hit any major arteries or veins, but you grazed one of them and that was most likely why you bled so much. Your blood might have not clotted because of the antidepressants in your system potentially mixed with the ibuprofen you were taking for your ankle. They don’t know when you are going to wake up but they emphasise you sleeping isn’t a bad thing because you’re body is getting the rest that it needs to repair itself.

Mapi doesn’t understand the measurements or the way medications work, she knows your body needs rest but she also desperately just wants you to wake up. Selfishly, even if it’s just for a second so that she knows that you are okay, so that she can stop blaming herself for killing you. She’s always going to somewhat blame herself for this, but you dying would be the straw that broke the camels back.

Alexia doesn’t think the whole way back to Barcelona, the staff managed to get her on the last flight out of the night, with Ingrid.

They both don’t say a word after Alexia briefs Ingrid on what she learnt from Mapi on the phone, it’s nowhere near enough information and it leaves Alexia’s brain stumbling, she’s so uncertain of everything.

There is a chauffeur waiting for them at the airport which takes them straight to the hospital, Alexia doesn’t even pretend to be flattered when the reception staff immediately know who she is and takes her straight to your room. She has one concern. Everything else is just background noise to her.

Seeing you makes Alexia feel sick, literally, it’s a few seconds before she feels the bile rising. It’s been building for hours now and she rushes into the bathroom adjacent to your room and ungracefully let’s her stomach go directly into the toilet bowl.

Once she’s done and she feels less like her heart is going to fall out of her throat she gets up and puts on a brave face, walking back into your room.

Mapi has tears streaming down her face, Ingrid is trying to talk to her but Alexia can tell that none of it is getting through to her.

“Mapi, what happened?”

Alexia wants to know, she needs to know, she needs to know how you got here.

Mapi is shaking, her whole body, it’s almost scary the way that her body vibrates against the chair she’s sitting in.

“I-I went to check in on her, dios mios, it was so cold, she was-she-.”

Ingrid stops Mapi.

“Alexia, we can do this later, she can’t handle this right now.”

Ingrid looks as terrified as Alexia feels, but her fear is for Mapi, it makes sense, Mapi is the love of her life. Alexia doesn’t think she’s entitled to the same fear, she let you go.

“No-no, she wants to know.”

It’s clear that every word is pulling Mapi further and further apart, but she pushes through.

“I-I just needed to see her, I went through all the rooms until I got to her bathroom.”

She lets out a sob before continuing.

“There was so much blood, it was all coming from her arm, I tried my best, I tried my best.”

Mapi sobs again, this time it’s so deep and guttural that Alexia is so horrified about what is to come.

“I tried to stop it. She was supposed to be sleeping, I thought she was just sleeping. She was unconscious, blood everywhere, and it just kept coming, it wouldn’t stop. I tried my best.”

Ingrid is murmuring words into Mapi’s ear, Alexia doesn’t know what to say, she actually can’t think of a single word to say.

“I called the ambulance, but she coded in the ambulance, they had to give her so many stitches, so much blood.”

Mapi keeps repeating the same words, over and over again, like it’s a mantra.

Alexia needs to stop it, for her bestfriends sake.

She walks to the otherside of the room, gently pushing Ingrid to the side so she can squat down in front of Mapi.

“Maria look at me. You did your best, you saved her life. You are no more to blame for this then anybody else is. You did so well, she’s alive because of you, she is breathing and sitting in front of us because of you. You did that.”

Mapi doesn’t look like she believes Alexia, but it’s a reprieve from whatever trance she was in.

“How about you and Ingrid go and get something to eat, I’ll stay here with her, if anything happens I’ll call you, okay?”

Mapi looks apprehensive to get up, but Alexia watches Ingrid give her a look and it’s the first time since Alexia’s walked into this room that she sees a little bit of normality return to Mapi’s face.

“Sh-she left you a letter. I think you should read it.”

Mapi pushes it into Alexia’s hands like it’s poisonous.

“Thank you Mapi, I will, go and take a break.”

Alexia presses a kiss to Mapi’s hand, before moving to allow Ingrid to help her up. Mapi is uneasy on her feet and for a second Alexia thinks she might collapse or vomit. She eventually finds her footing though and follows Ingrid out of the room.

Alexia looks down at the letter.

It’s got dried blood finger prints on it, she presumes from Mapi, it secures all of this in some weird way. This is all actually happening.

Alexia takes her time opening it, this is tangible evidence of all of this and a part of Alexia wants nothing more then for it to disappear, so she can pretend none of this has happened.

She wasn’t even there for it, she can’t imagine what Mapi went through, she already feels like every part of her has been stripped away with this.

She feels like she’s an imposter in this all, she doesn’t know what to do.

You’ve never expressed to her anything about family or parents, she doesn’t think it would be right to call them without your permission. She wants to call her own mami but that feels a bit silly, although she knows somehow her mami would give her all the right advice. She doesn’t want to talk about any of it though, it feels wrong. This is such a personal issue, she doesn’t even think she should know about it, she doesn’t have any right considering that Alexia could have very well contributed to this whole issue.

The letter is white, off white possibly, it’s hard to tell with the harsh fluorescent lighting.

The marks that would have been bright red at some stage have faded to a dull reddish brown, it’s imprinted deep into the paper.

Alexia flips it over, gently opening the seal with her fingernail and letting the flap open up.

The paper inside is the same colour, except even though she can only see the flip side it’s clear that there is black scrawl all over it.

Alexia could make it disappear, act like she read it, it would make it all so much easier, it would save her a lot of emotions that she really doesn’t feel prepared to feel. But she doesn’t get to make that decision, she needs to read this, for you and for her.

Dear Alexia,

If you’re reading this then chances are I’m already gone, if I’m not then something went wrong and for that I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that any of this was about you, or that you or anybody else was responsible. I made this decision, I’ve been thinking about this long before you came and I would have spent everyday thinking about it, no action or intervention would have changed that.

I don’t know how to explain it, but life is different for me. I don’t experience things the same way, I don’t get happy when I spend time with friends, I don’t get happy when it’s sunny outside. I’ve tried it all, I’ve tried to make it work, tried to live life in my body. I think a part of me was always separate though, and as much as I’ve tried to make it work there is no point in trying to fix something that is always going to be broken.

Being with you was the first time that my brain felt quiet, that I kind of felt the experience of happiness that everyone else feels. You made it all better, everything with you felt better, it felt normal. All I ever wanted was to be a normal person, and you made me feel like that. It’s not fair of me to be saying that, you deserved better then me, it wasn’t fair for me to burden you with all of this shit. Fucked up is never not fucked up, you can’t uncrumple a crumpled piece of paper, it will always be creased. I want you to know that I didn’t do this to you, i did this for you. It wasn’t fair weighing you down, I know it wasn’t easy for you when we broke up, you deserve to focus on football. You deserve to have a good life, you deserve to be free. I don’t want you to feel bad, I don’t want you to feel like you’re responsible. Live your life, be happy, for me, experience it all, because I couldn’t.

I’m not myself anymore, although I don’t think I ever was myself. It always kind of feels like i’ve been different people in my own body, and this time i couldn’t handle it. I don’t want to feel devoid anymore, I want to be free. My identity has always been identified as being a good footballer, a great footballer, and I don’t even think I can say that I am that anymore. I am nothing, want to be nothing.

I’m sorry I never loved you back in the same way, I’m sorry I never reciprocated the endless graciousness and love tha you gave me. The smiles, the effort, the constant love, it was wasted on me and my biggest regret in life will be letting you waste it on me. It wasn’t fair, it’ll never be fair, because I loved you back and that perhaps was the most selfish act I’ve ever committed.

I’m sorry, there aren’t enough words that I could use to tell you just how sorry I am. I’m sorry that I burdened you with me, I’m sorry that I let myself be cared for by you, I’m sorry that you have to read this.

I’m sorry.

There wouldn’t have ever been anything I could have done to repair it, I didn’t want to live knowing that I would forever be in debt to you for this. I hope that eventually you will find peace in this, that some good will finally come of me.

Goodbye.

There are tears all over the page by the time Alexia gets to the bottom of the letter, she actually can’t comprehend what she’s just read, she swears that her mind must be playing tricks on her. Why would you think all of those things? What made you think all of those things?

Alexia feels sick again.

Did she make you feel that way? Did she make you feel like you weren’t deserving of living?

There are so many questions circulating her brain, and she doesn’t have a answer for a single one of them, because she doesn’t know. Suicide was your only option, one that could have been very permanent, it makes Alexia’s head swim. You believed that your only option to make it all stop was death. You found a permanent solution to something that Alexia’s considers a potentially temporary situation, had you reached out, had you tried to find help. She can’t criticise you, she can’t even begin to comprehend how hard it would be living as you have, and then having to try and talk to somebody else about that. A part of her wishes you had though, because maybe it would have saved her beind here.

Your body is the exact same it was the last time Alexia looked at you, but for some reason you feel different.

Alexia reaches out for your hand, it’s the arm that’s not covered in bandages. Your hands are cold, but she tries to ignore it. She focuses on the feeling of movement underneath her own hand, it’s the only real tangible proof she has that you are here with her, that you are alive.

Sure there is a beeping heart monitor, and other signs, but she just wants to feel you.

She holds your hand, because she swears that she’ll slip away. Alexia doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know how to help you but she promises herself that she’s going to be here, that she isn’t ever going to let you experience life the same way that you did without her being there for you.

—————————————————————

thoughts appreciated …. part 2?

another reminder that if you ever need anybody to talk to i am here, your life is worth living, you are worth it all. <3

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lovebugism · 2 months ago

Note

heyy i have a request <33

just read ur shy reader x steve fic where she gives him his phone number back and then hits her head and he’s just so 🥰🥰🥰 abt it all. i know it’s a prequel to a fic where they’re finally together but could i politely request a fic from when they did get together. maybe tommy tries picking on her again but steve actually stops him that time🩷🩷🩷

thanks for requesting :D part of the king!steve universe! — steve defends you from his asshole friends (shy!fem!r established relationship, hurt/comfort | 1k)

The air smells overwhelmingly of the late summer season. Of nighttime and dewy grass and chlorine and Steve The Hair Harrington.

The boy himself lazes in the lawn chair next to yours, much too far for your liking. The warm scent of his cologne lingers between you and cradles you in his absence.

You tilt your chin to your shoulder and admire the sharp edges of Steve’s profile in silence. Your heavy eyes fall from his pronounced browbone, to the slope of his chiseled nose, and finally to the plush of his pink lips. Too pretty for his own good.

“You can swim if you want to,” you murmur when you catch him eyeing Tommy and Carol splashing each other in the steaming pool. “You know that, right?”

Steve’s brows furrow, as though offended by the question. “I’m okay here.”

“I just don’t want you to think you have to stay here with me—”

“I don’t care about swimming with those two shitheads, alright? Honest,” the boy interjects, then turns to look at you fully. Honey glitters in his dark eyes, which melt with a quiet adoration. In a similarly warm tone, he confesses, “I just wanna spend time with you.”

A petaled smile blooms on your mouth. You purse your lips to the side in a futile attempt to conceal it, which only makes Steve’s smug grin grow. He knows what he’s doing to you. And it’s maddening.

“You can flirt with your girlfriend without being an asshole, you know?” Tommy calls from the shallow end of the pool, freckled arms folded along the concrete edge. He shakes wet hair from his face and jokes, “Dissing your friends isn’t exactly a turn-on. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your face burns when he turns to you. The unwanted attention makes your throat catch and your stomach do backflips. ‘Cause no matter how many times Steve invites you to these hangouts, you know you’ll never truly fit in. Not here. Not with them.

Steve, seemingly sensing your discomfort as you shift in your seat, calls back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

"Dick,” the darker-haired boy chuckles.

Carol swims over to him, then, and mounts his back. She wraps all her dainty limbs around him like a koala. Tommy accommodates her weight with little effort. “Hey, Wallflower. Why don’t you hop in? The water’s warm.”

As if you didn’t already know that you were less than friends, the use of the horrid nickname was further confirmation.

“I don’t know how to swim,” you confess in a mousy voice.

“I could always teach ya,” he offers, mostly polite, but still distantly creepy in his way. “You’ve got a bathing suit under all that, right?”

“Uh… Yeah?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a faint smirk. His dark eyes flit up and down your form like he can see right through your oversized t-shirt. “Nice,” he hums.

Carol scoffs and swats his arm. “You’re such a boy.”

Tommy’s freckled face swirls with a boyish offense. “I just wanna know what she looks like under all those clothes! That’s all!” he argues like it’s normal. Like you aren’t there at all.

“Okay, Tommy,” Steve spits. “That’s just gross.”

“What?” he laughs

“You can’t— You can’t just say that!” the boy beside you retorts, talking wildly with his hands. “That’s, like, super sexist, dude.”

Even stewing in your red-hot embarrassment, he manages to get a smile out of you. Not that he’s trying to, anyway. He’s trying to stand up for you — the best he can, at least. It’s not his fault his boyishness is so damn adorable.

“Don’t act like you haven’t said worse shit, Harrington!”

“Yeah, but I grew up! It’s not my fault you’re still fourteen!”

Tommy rears his arm back to splash him. The warm droplets of the heated pool land mostly on the boy beside you, dampening his sweatshirt in rogue places. A few fall gently on your arm when you flinch away.

“See. Now you’re just proving my point,” Steve deadpans.

“Hey, Wallflower!” Tommy shouts, if only to further provoke his best friend. “If you ever want a break from this hardass, give us a call, alright?”

Carol gasps in offense. “You’re so gross,” she giggles before splashing him with a lighthearted hand. To which Tommy responds with a much bigger, much more dramatic splash of his own.

The two of them roughhouse like they hate each other and forget you were ever there, while you drown in a riptide of thoughts.

What did she mean by that? your mind races. Does the mere thought of you disgust her? Or does she realize how pervy her boyfriend is? Maybe it’s both. But the thought is still stomach-turning.

Steve looks over at you and softens all over again. “Sorry about him,” he mumbles.

His honeyed voice cuts through all the mean voices in your head. You blink hard and turn to him with less glazed-over eyes. “You’re real cute, you know?” you say with a wavering, mostly sincere grin.

He only shrugs and swipes an anxious hand through his hair, ducking away when his cheeks start to speckle a burning pink color. The chocolate strands fall back over his forehead once more.

“He doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” he murmurs sheepishly. “Or anyone, but… Especially you.”

“Hardass,” you quip with a mischievous squint.

Steve sends you a playful glare in return. You cave with a pretty laugh. He grins at the sound of it and settles back in his plastic lounge chair, blinking up at the velvet night sky.

“It’s feel good, though,” he mutters with his arms folded over his stomach.

Your brows pinch. “What does?”

“Being the only one who gets to see you under all that.”

Steve flashes you a smirk — pretty, pink, and lopsided. You meet the petaled expression with a lighthearted glower despite the sparkles burning like embers in your chest.

“Does it?” you monotone.

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p. “It’s an honor, really.”

“Shut up.”

“I feel like I deserve a medal, honestly.”

“Shut up.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

Note

hi bunny!

I’ve been wanting to try the bakery and finally got around to it!

Could I get savory pastry(norris!reader), pull-apart bread, and root beer with carlos sainz!

the menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's still open (yay)! and i working away on orders, so please feel free to submit your own! we're open 6 days a week! i hope you love this order, anon! thank you for submitting it! i hope you're okay with me making the reader have.. big titties... i wanted to yearn for big titties tonight..

savory pastry ("let your brother find out.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + root beer (filming/recording) served by carlos sainz jr. (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, norris!reader, possessive behavior, mean!carlos, filming, ditzy!reader, soft!reader, implied mid to plus size!reader, sorry lando, unprotected sex, breast worship

rivals come and go. if carlos really hated someone however, he wouldn't fuck their sibling. carlos wasn't out fucking max's sister or one of charles' brothers, that was stupid and childish. it was a mind game reserved for people who thought they were smart

but that was until he saw your knelt down in the paddock trying the laces of your pretty pink sneakers and when you stood back up a slight breeze pushed up your skirt. and carlos caught the briefest glimpse of your panties. cotton, pink with little flowers on it. carlos stopped in his tracks, he hadn't realized the can of celcius he had was now on the floor.

you didn't notice his leering gaze, but instead burst into smiles when you went over and wrapped your arms around lando. he held you not like a lover, but like a sibling. oh, you were lando's fabled sister, the one who went to school in the middle of nowhere. was it canada? not that it mattered.

you could've been studying pottery in utah for all carlos cared, because he wanted one thing. those full breasts in his hands.

he remembered the first time he held them in his hands. the weight to them made his eyes bug out a little bit. it was about three months into the season and carlos was starting to feel the itch for sex. a lot of drivers got it, that was a lot of the reason why significant others would fly out for that weekend. but carlos has his right hand, something his left hand if he was feeling adventurous.

and one thing led to another and he ended up in your hotel room for the night. and then you were in his the next weekend, then followed by you in the ferrari motor home. eventually your behind was as red as the ferrari shirt that carlos got for you. he liked how the long was a little stretched across your pretty tits.

the rational thing would've been to tell your brother, lando. drivers dated other driver's siblings all the time! sometimes drivers dated other drivers, but carlos wouldn't get into those details. but something kept him reserved by telling the other driver.

you on the other hand were nervous about telling him. lando had scared off every boyfriend you had since your teens. you remembered when he chased a guy who had a crush on you off your family's front lawn with a hose. if lando found out about carlos....

"what if he finds out?" you squeak when he pulled you to ferrari's side of the paddock, you almost falling over yourself as you tried to keep up with him.

he shrugged, "let your brother find out."

your ferrari t-shirt (a gift from carlos) made you fit in nicely with the others on that side of the paddock. and carlos made sure that no one was looking when he got you into the driver's room. when he got the door closed and locked, he flipped up your pretty skirt. something a little more muted to go with the ferrari shirt, but short and carlos wanted to get his hands on you.

you ended up on the couch with carlos not even taking off the thing, only your panties underneath. he could feel the excitement in his blood stream. your knees up to your chest and your ankles in the air. carlos got his phone out after he got his cock out of his tight jeans.

"sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry." he said as he angled the phone towards your sweet cunt. it felt so good to be balls deep inside of you. even if it was messy quick sex.

carlos liked to film your encounters together. he liked to record your little noises, even if it was just recording your noises together. something to play back when he was alone. sadly, you couldn't be at every race. but carlos was hoping in a few years that would change.

he got his cock into you with ease. one hand on your clothed breast and the other on the phone. he got good shots of your pussy and face. he watched it change on the screen as he moved against you.

you tensed up for a moment then relaxed and carlos felt the cotton in his brain grow. he got addicted to your fast. he continued to grope your breasts as he moved against your achy slit. your legs kicked out a little and carlos pushed himself closer to you. he pointed the camera at the both of you and chuckled at the lenses.

"future carlos, remember this?" then started to lazily make out with you. you giggled as well. you knew those videos were often safe on his phone.

you squirmed a little bit and carlos put his face between your clothes breasts and rubbed his face up against them. he groaned against your heartbeat before he pulled away and got the camera right in your face before he leaned back a little bit to film your beautiful cunt taking him so well.

you yelped but quickly covered your mouth with your hands. he pout the camera in your face as he asked quietly, "so pretty. so good for me. i think about you all the time." he said almost sweetly.

you looked up at the camera, finding a moment to compose yourself before you said, "i love you."

he smiled down at you, the camera angled at your sweet cunt as he responded, "i love you too." he loved the feeling of your sweet cunt against him. he loved it so much. it made his heart leap in his chest at the idea of being able to fuck you.

usually he liked to tease his cock between your heavy breasts, but that would have to wait for another night. for now he just got a good shot of them bouncing as he fucked you. a half-assed mating press just to get to your pussy.

he could feel the heat burning in your core as he fucked you. you felt so good, were you always this good for him. or maybe the rush of today's race was what kept you bouncing on his cock like a good girl.

it wasn't long before you covered your mouth once more and shakily exhaled against your trembling hands. it all felt so good and it made you run hot all over. it was so sweet, it was so good.

carlos almost dropped his phone from the mere pace that he was fucking you in. his heavy breathing heard on the camera paired with your sweet little moans. it was hot, it made carlos' brain run a mile a minute.

with a few more bucks of his hips, he pushed himself all the way inside of you to finish. your voice got high pitched as you came as well, but kept your hands over your mouth to keep yourself quieter.

"there. you'll be having this again soon." carlos said to the camera. to his future self. he ended the video and like a gentleman he helped you start to get yourself dressed.

carlos gave one last squeeze to your breasts and said softly when he sat next to you on the couch. curled up at your side, "we'll tell lando soon." then placed a kiss on your cheek.

that night after carlos' grand weekend he was out drinking with the rest of ferrari and mclaren. you had left early because the you were very tried from the day. carlos had suspicion that it might have been from your escapade earlier that day plus the race.

it was a lot for you. carlos didn't mind, even though he missed you.

he was talking to lando, treating him like a friend more so than a rival (he'd eventually be his brother-in-law, might as well get on his good side). they had a few drinks and carlos mentioned that he had something to send the other man.

"yeah, just message it to me, mate!"

carlos laughed and with his thick thumbs he didn't send the right video. what was supposed to be a stupid tiktok, was instead the 10 minute uncut video of carlos fucking you. lando's sister. before he realized what he had done, lando's eyes were the size of dinner plates on the screen.

"uh... mate... carlos." lando said when he was able to find the words. he turned his screen to the other driver. the thumbnail wasn't the stupid meme, but rather a shot of your pussy on full display.

carlos' eyes went wide, realizing that he sent the wrong video. he chuckled nervously and said, "let me explain myself, mate!" he knew he'd be hearing about this for months from both norris siblings.

but, at least you didn't have to keep it a secret anymore. <3

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bitchlessdino · 11 months ago

Text

nobody's home (m)

Pairing: neighbor male nanny!seungcheol x afab maid!reader Genre: smut, fluff towards the end Word count: 3.8k tags: working class au, mentions kids, big dick!Seungcheol, reader wears skirt and thong and panty hose, dom!seungcheol, brat!reader, rough sex, rough hair pulling and head movement, spitting and swallowing, heavy degradation kink, window sex, overstimulation, name calling (brat, slut, mr. choi), choking unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pies Summary: Seungcheol and you have never crossed paths for long, but boy have you imagined it. Too preoccupied with your jobs working for some of the richest families in the city, you've sacrificed your grueling hours when you could've been fucked your brains out all this time. However, big risks come with big rewards when the holidays arrive. Then there's nobody home to stop you. author note: horny, horny, horny, that was the entire process writing all of this. i feel like i pulled this out one of my deepest most darkest horny moments bc why am i so into writing every part of this and thats so rare?? i enjoyed this alot, please enjoy guys and happy new year! its almost 2024 thats insane!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

You haven’t worked for this family all that long. Only long enough to realize the cute male nanny living in the house next door.

You've caught glimpses of him a handful of times on the lawn, overseeing the kids as they bask in the fresh air. His eyes sparkle like stars that lit the night sky and his smile outshines the opulence of this entire block of one-percenters. Witnessing that radiant smile aimed in your direction brightens your day each time. Without fail, you exchange polite greetings, accompanied by smiles and pleasant small talk, forming a delightful routine in your interactions.

As the housekeeper, you’ve had plenty of encounters while getting groceries, lawn or backyard parties, and windows. Lots of windows. You’d peer through when you’re cleaning, see him glance back at you, maybe sending you a wave as he’s mid-feeding the kid veggie tots. Your interactions with him were typically very brief and fleeting.

Now, there were no excuses. The holiday season is around the corner, and families in the neighborhood will soon be heading to the Alps, tropical destinations, or somewhere along those lines. That meant you’d be all alone in their mansion, much like someone else in the neighborhood.

You learn about it by seeing him at the grocery store. Trying not to get distracted by the loose-fitting dress shirt tucked in the waist of his trousers, you notice the little one he cares for rolls through the aisles full of toddler swagger in the shopping cart. You would gush at their delightful giggles if you didn’t find their caretaker so mind-numbingly distracting.

With his broad shoulders, sturdy arms, and consistently solid build, you too would trust him with something so delicate and needy of attention. It was such a natural choice. However, the nearest option you had was, well, yourself.

He mentions that his employers preferred to keep their vacation exclusive to family, providing him with paid time off to use as he pleased. In turn, you mention being offered the same form of compensation, and am eternally grateful for such leniency. His expression sparks in piqued interest, briefly glancing at you before storing the hot chocolate package away in the cart.

“Does that mean you’ll be away for the holidays?”

You muse at his question, fingers taking over your basket handle as he ponders on your response. A glimmer of optimism in his eyes beams in your direction, with a dimple etched deep in his cheek as he splays a hopeful smile. To which you answer jesterly, "Well, I hadn't implied that."

He softly chuckles, nudging you at the elbow, obviously trying to banger a proper answer. “Then tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a big house all alone during the holidays?”

His compliments delight you and warmth festers in your chest, greedy for more. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

Seungcheol doesn’t have a moment to react as the child in the cart regains their energy. He shifts his gaze away momentarily and soon you escape his line of vision, seamlessly blending in amidst the bustling crowd of grocers.

Returning to the residence, you linger by the largest window, offering a perfect view of Seungcheol dining during supper. It's a familiar scene, replaying like clockwork at the same hours each time. His silhouette in the warm glow of the neighbor's dining room becomes a sight with more to be desired, and you imagine a world where the divide doesn't exist. Staring in his eyes, you picture your entanglement. The heat of your bodies weaving together like threads in a tapestry, each bonded tightly, with only the power of shears to tear you apart.

His eyes reflect the same intensity, mentally undressing you down to the skin, making you his perfect canvas. He ponders the texture of your skin, your hair, and the sound you make when he tenderizes your flesh with his teeth. He wonders how full you feel between his fingers, or how sweet your nectar tastes. He can only envision the favor, the sensation, the warmth; holding the fantasy close to him like a secret taken to the grave.

That day would come soon enough.

Anticipating each passing hour of every day, you are elated by the promise of bidding farewell to your employers at the airport. You assure them of returning to a pristine home, meticulously cleaned from every nook and cranny. A grin, so expansive it borders on pain, graces your face, and there's a noticeable spring in your step as they fade into the depths behind the security checkpoints.

Without a moment's hesitation, you rush home, eager to connect with a kindred spirit just a few cobblestones away from your work residence. Judging by the expression in his eyes, it's clear he has fulfilled his responsibilities and bid farewell to his employers as well, eagerly awaiting your arrival. He grins at you, pleased to see you approach him.

“I see it that they made it to their flight safe?”

You hum in confirmation. “You would be seeing correctly. How did your family make it?”

"Quite smoothly," he answers nonchalantly, the dimple on his cheek sinking into a subtle but contented expression.

A palpable wave of relief releases from the depths of your lungs, and a chuckle escapes as you observe Seungcheol displaying a similar reaction. Even in the subzero temperatures, you sensed the fire of his gaze, unraveling your logical resolve and liquefying you into a puddle of your own arousal. In the depth of your gaze, he discerns your hopeful anticipation, one that matches his. “So, what are the plans for the rest of their absence?”

The corner of your lips can’t help the way lifts, smiling slyly back at him. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”

You thank the heavens every day they never reinstalled those security cameras. Utilize their vulnerability, you invite the neighbor’s nanny into their home, and the automatic door locks behind him. No use in holding back, he claims the lips swiftly, tasting need and rebellion on your tongue in a rough liplock.

His lips full and plush, they part to speak, but not with words. His tongue aligns with yours, only to tangle in incoherent mumbles that escape in between, yet communicate with you in perfect fluency. Much like the intimate gazes you share from the windows multiple times a day, the fervent kiss unfolding spoke more than the audible language ever could.

His hands work around your body, shoving off your coat and cardigan, abandoning them on the hardwood to slip his fingers beneath your shirt. A shallow breath leaves your lips and you rush him against you, planting yourselves against their pristinely white wall. The texture of the plaster digs into your backside, abrasive against your flesh and Seungcheol locks you in place by holding your thigh against his side.

“You don’t know how fucking bad I wanted to do this to you,” he growls into your kiss.

You let out a sultry chuckle, fiddling with his earlobe between the pads of your fingers. “You can say it out loud. Nobody’s home.”

He scoffs. “I said, I wanted to—“ he slams his hips against you, his cock bursting at the seams against your torso, “—fuck the living shit—“ he does so again, digging your sobbing clothed cunt with his solid thigh, “—out of this stupid, pretty cunt. That loud enough for you?”

You moan through your firm pressed lips, grinding against his steel hard thighs. “Just the perfect amount.”

In admiration, your hands roam over his body, and shamelessly rips off his dress shirt, hearing the buttons skip against the cool tile. He grunts at the sensation of the frigid air enveloping his broad stature as it pebbles goosebumps on his upper arms. Returning your savage gesture, his hand fingers through your hair and dragging it back to pin your head on the wall behind you, fisting handfuls of your locks. “That wasn’t very nice of you. Could’ve asked for permission at least first,” he snarls, baring his front teeth.

“Can’t help it,” you grin, “you just look so good without it on. I bet you look without anything on.”

His chest presses flat against your body without even space to breathe and his unyielding gaze bore into you. He aligns his conceited grin against your lips to smash it brusquely—as if thanking you—pulling at your bottom lip between his perfect teeth. “I’m sure it’s all you think about when you see me.”

Quickly, he maneuvers you; twisting your heel and guiding with a hand on your waist, he forces you against the unyielding surface of the wall and trails that same hand over your chilled spine.

You softly gasp at his touch, feeling the flood of your clenched walls seep through your underwear and layering your inner thighs. His chilling, velvet voice beckons, coating the inside of your ears. “But I’ve dealt with brats, you know that. Let me show exactly what happens when you test the limits of my discipline.”

Seungcheol lifts the flap of your skirt, barring the shape of your cheeks protected under a layer of pantyhose and caressing its plush cushion. Then came the flat palm of his hand coming against you at full force. You jolt upon contact, clinging to the foundation of this house to recover, yet mewl at the arousal erupting inside you. A sound emerges from the depths of your throat, vaguely sounding of his name as well as plead.

“You like that, don’t you? A naughty little brat you are,” he chuckles sinisterly.

You push your back against his hips, finding the mold of his cock readily and fitting between the rounds of your ass. His soft groan follows, his erection rubbing against the pantyhose. “God, you really like that.”

“I want it,” you whine impatiently, backing your hips on him, and crushing his length, “give it to me.”

“What kind of authority figure would I be if I gave into one of my brat’s demands?” He strikes your cheek again, stinging lingering dully as your flesh had barely recovered from the last hit, and drool leaking out of the corner of your lips. “Not a very good one,” he answers.

“Please, Seungcheol...”

He does do again, if not harder, and each strike collides with both cheeks. “You’ll be referring to me as Mr. Choi now, brat.”

You never knew his surname, but upon discovery, you notice how smooth it rolls off the tongue. How delicious it sounds out of your swollen lips.

“Mr. Choi…” You breathe out, your cunt vibrating at the notion of his power.

He hums pleased, rewarding the back of your neck with a gentle peck. “Good job. What is it you want?”

“Please, Me Choi, I want your cock inside me…”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you, now?” He chides, “Are you going to behave from now on?”

You nod gingerly. “Yes, just give it to me, please…all of it…”

“Mmh, since you’re being so polite. I guess positive reinforcement is in order.” Seungcheol’s hand caresses your hips, reaching for the curves of your ass in confident determination. The soft caress of his rich voice proceeds, “Let’s just get these out of the way.”

He ruthlessly tears the sheer material of your pantyhose, exposing your skin and the red lacy thong that hardly holds you up. You erupt in a startled gasp, welcoming the cool embrace of the air ventilation on your blistered skin. His voice drops to a lower octave and his groaning dissolves, melding into a soft sigh. “What a pretty little holiday gift for me. Only took me a moment to realize I have to unwrap it.”

“I thought of you when I decided the color,” you admit in feigned innocence, “you seem to like the holiday colors.”

“I do. Darling of you for noticing,” he praises with a hint of tease, “and my, does it suit you. Maybe there is hope for a brat like you.”

You hear the draw of his zipper, following the heavy drop of fabric to the ground. Slightly turning your head, you see he kicks the clothes aside and grins upon inspection of his full-length lining up between your legs. Your knees began to wobble, parting your feet for a more stable stance, and you swoon with your head against the wall. “You look so big…”

The head of his cock rubs against the lace, precum leaking from the tip and creating a small mess on your already ruined panties. You hear a smile in his scoff and feel the snap of your underwear before his tip breaches your molten warmth. He whispers, “Wait until you feel how big it is pushing in and out of that pretty wet cunt of yours…”

“Mmh, Mr. Choi…” Your breath halts as his girth parts your entrance, stretching your walls until it is Seungcheol and your lubricating arousal. He seethes in relief, letting your welcoming embrace around him soothe his intensifying erection and he bucks his hips, having you adjust to his size.

You rest your forehead on the wall, feeling him bury himself inside you. “Shit…yes, Mr Choi…”

“Such bratty pussy.” He spanks both cheeks once more, watching the recoil of your flesh. “My perfect bratty little pussy…bet you’re so used to misbehaving. It won’t be like that around me.”

He took one deep, languid thrust, automatically groaning, “Fuck,” then released his hips.

You immerse in his plunder of your voice, letting it ache in need as you repeat his name. Meanwhile, your internal temperature rises with the collision of his lap and your ass growing harsh and unforgiving. Pinning your wrist together single-handedly, he lets his other grip reclaim your hair, dragging your body to him for his own use. “You feel so fucking good around me.”

He tenses his torso to take sharper strikes, pulsing deeper and quicker. Your hand slides on the solid surface in front of you, pushing yourself against him as you take every inch. Your jaw drops low, echoing a hollow whine, devoid of incoherent thoughts and instinctive response.

Seungcheol lets go of your wrists and instead sandwiches them between your back and his chest. He finds the front panels of your shirt and tears it apart similarly you did with his, echoing that familiar sound of buttons being abandoned on the ground.

“Because you deserve the same thing to happen to you,” he softly mutters, only to cup your cladded breast hungrily, squeezing your flesh to the point it spills out of the material as his teeth kiss your neck, “and because I couldn’t stop looking at these when you’re walking around that see-through blouse by that window we share.”

Thinking about the fact that you share something made his intention all the more intimate, and you cling to his body like saran wrap due to the simple fact. You melt as he marks your body with bites, the stinging resonating on your goosebumped skin. “I wear that because of you,” you manage to squeak, “only because you wear that t-shirt that clings to your body during the summer. How it got damp from sweat fixing that broken bookcase. God, is it satisfying to rip your shirt off.”

“That window was always the culprit, hmm?”

He pries you from where you stand and drags you to the referred structure with you giggling after him. There he bends you over the dining table placed strategically in front of it, while your ass points towards the glass screen. His spanks come flying, tenderizing the already raw and blistered skin, “This damn window you always linger by.”

His nails dig into your kneaded flesh and he fits his cock right where it belongs, plunging back inside you as he secures your head against the table. “The way I wanted to fuck you on this exact table, spank this cute fucking ass,” he roughly tugs your head up, watching your tits bounce as he ruts in you like a damn dog, and meets your warm wide-eyed gaze, “Spit in that slutty, brat mouth.”

Your lips part without delay, death gripping the edge of the mahogany, and your tongue slings out enthusiastically. He breaks out in an amused grin before it melts back into a smolder, gripping you closer until he hocks a hot load of salvia in your mouth, forcibly closing your jaw with his hands.

“Hold it,” he commands, seeing the subtle frown on your face as you obey. He smiles sinisterly, hands on your hips as he slams you towards him, watching your head bob at the harsh rhythm. He places his palm over the column of your throat, teeth clawing your cheek. “Now swallow, you slut.”

He feels the shift in your throat as it goes down, relishing that light gasp of breath leaving your lips, “Good slut. You’re finally learning.”

His power, his strength, his cadence were inexplicably captivating and you succumb to his every whim. It only intensifies as you drink in his delectable lips, so soft in contrast to the abrasive snap of his hips, hitting in a spot so sensitive you don’t even predict it coming.

Your moan resonates through the entire first floor, palming the dinner table as you ride out your high in teary anguish as Seungcheol’s pace doesn’t seem to falter, in fact, it seems to have grown angrier. Furious.

“You fucking slut,” he spits, rubbing your overstimulated clit in the thick of your climax, squeezing the tears out of your eyes. You clutch his forearm in desperation, writhing uncontrollably. “S-Seungcheol—“

“Misbehaving again, I see.” He pulls out of you to flip you on your back. He watches at your hot cheeks expel heavy pants, sweat filming your entire torso, and eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re still conscious; you haven’t had enough just yet.”

Dragging by the arm, he takes you against the tempered glass, chilling your bare spine. He lifts your legs off the ground and holds them on either his side, stuffing himself back into you. Your heat drips around his cock, and he catches it in his thrusts, pressuring you to feel every inch of his cock rammed inside.

Your ass and the pads of your fingers press against the glass, smudging its once-pristine sheen. “Mr.Choi…”

He strokes your cheek, fondness in his eyes before it lowers to your throat and closes around it. Then his eyes penetrate through you, eying you in a dark allure as he robs you of breath, and catching the daze in your eyes as he ponders in thought.

“What are you thinking dirtying up the thing you took so long cleaning with your fingerprints and cum, hmm? Marking your claim on the house you've spent all day and night on looking perfect? A house far from being yours? How does it make you feel?”

“…Exhilarating,” you sigh shallowly, staring back at him with a smile. Your arms loop around his neck, finding security and embracing his vigorous nature. “Like it’s all worth the painstaking labor to make a complete mess of it.”

He groans at your answer, reconnecting your lips in what feels like an eternity, and cradles the side of your face endearingly with one hand still around your neck. His lips devour yours, swallowing your moans, jerking his hips, and savoring the velvet of your walls clench around him so deliciously.

“You were just as worth the wait. Made my job so damn hard thinking your pussy wrapped around my cock, made me fucking blank out most of my day. Not a good move for me, but–really–I blame you,” he slams you against the window before quickly returning to his rhythm pace.

“You and your perfect body—” He grinds up into you, relocating your sensitivity and you whimper, “—Your sexy fucking voice when you greet me,” and he finally, makes notice of your face, using that hand that crushed around throat now gripping your chin, “—or this beautiful face that I couldn’t wait to see contort when I push my fucking cum inside.”

Usually, you know better than to let that kind of thing happen, but after the long duration of having only distant contact, his offer becomes tempting—alluring even—that you knew someone had to physically pry you off of him until you were filled with his seed. “Well, you’re so good with kids, wanna make some of your own?”

Seungcheol beckons closer, grinning mischievously, “Should I? You want me to put my babies in you? Fill you up with cum?”

You mewl at the thought, bringing his warmth closer, “I’d be so full…taking your fat cock and all your hot cum inside me…it’d be a dream, especially knowing how good you’re taking care of us, especially me.”

“You’d want that, hmm,” driving himself into you until you're lost in your own world again—losing the grasp on reality—and he persists. “You want my cum making a mess of you and this house just so I could put some babies in this pretty cunt? Hmm? That what you want?”

You nod mindlessly, anchoring yourself to him until he finally lets up. When he does, you feel the power surges through you as if you’re fresh new battery, the electrical current being the cum he shoots up into you. You let yourself ride this high, rocking into his hips, and soon your weight takes over, deducing you to a puddle. He takes his final pumps, cooing softly at your lips as you share a kiss, then drops you back on the dining table, letting you catch your breath as the cum spills slowly out of you and stains the floor under your feet.

He stands between your legs, tracing over the texture of your thighs, and his other hand claims your waist, meeting your face with a tired but tender smile. “Hi.”

You softly chuckle, resting a palm on the back of his neck. “Hi,” you repeat back.

“So dinner?”

You playfully roll your eyes, bordering his hips with your legs. “Are you offering to cook?”

“My job requires me to, so yes,” he traces over your jaw, drawing in closer, “Wouldn’t want to feed my clients burnt Mac and cheese with their frozen Dino nuggies.”

“True,” your arms lock at the elbows around his neck, “But what else can you make besides Mac and cheese with Dino nuggies?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He answers vaguely.

You finger through his hair and notice how his perspiration has left him mouthwateringly disheveled, quietly contemplating how to stretch out this vacation time. Your solution: never leave each other’s side.

“I’ll tell you what. We can think about what to eat…after a shower. “

You retrieve his hand, tugging him in your desired direction and he follows graciously with a knowing grin. “We can do that, but we both know that shower will end up more dirty than clean.”

“Good thing I’m an expert in keeping a clean home, now it’s your turn to clean my home.”

His dimple graced his cheek, visibly interested. “My pleasure.”

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captainsophiestark · 5 months ago

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A New Man

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Colin has had feelings for his best friend for some time now, and has decided his new skills in charm and flirting are the perfect way to win her over. He is unfortunately very mistaken.

Word Count: 4,713

Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"This is by far the best part of these society events," mused Benedict, one of my best friends, as the two of us perused the dessert table. "Sometimes it even makes putting up with all the marauding mamas worth it."

I laughed and picked up a delious looking cupcake.

"The mamas must be truly terrible this season if the food only sometimes makes them worth putting up with."

Benedict sighed. "You have no idea."

I nudged him with my shoulder, smiling as we stepped away from the dessert table together.

"Well, you have no need to worry, Benedict. As long as I am unattached, I am more than happy to act as a shield for you, especially when society dictates you must find a partner and dance."

"Thank you. You are a true friend. I know I can always count on-"

"Colin!" I turned to grin sheepishly at Benedict in the wake of my outburst and found him staring at me with a mocking, raised eyebrow. But I couldn't quite bring myself to care, since I'd just seen my absolute best friend in the world, Colin Bridgerton, standing across the lawn chatting with a group of ladies.

He'd left England this summer for another lengthy international trip, and I'd missed him terribly while he'd been gone. He looked different now, too, a little more sure of himself and wearing a style that had clearly come from somewhere on the continent rather than from here. And if my heart raced a little at the sight of him, well, that could easily be chalked up to excitement at the prospect of seeing a friend. I couldn't keep a smile off my face at the sight of him, even as I turned back to Benedict and found him with crossed arms and doubly raised eyebrows.

"When were you going to tell me that Colin had returned?" I demanded, completely ignoring Benedict's judgey look and barely managing to keep my voice at a socially acceptable level. Benedict just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It is why I came over here in the first place, but then you distracted me with talks of friendship and cupcakes. And now I see it was all a lie, as you are clearly about to abandon me to the whims of this social event to go rush over and talk to my brother."

"Sorry, Benedict," I said, giving him a grin. "But I saw you throughout the summer. It has been much too long since I last saw Colin, so he takes precedence for the day. But I promise you I will come to your aid if you find yourself cornered by the mamas, or any other dangerous creature roaming the society grounds."

Benedict snorted, but I didn't give him the opportunity for a comeback as I turned back to Colin and walked quickly across the gravel paths, the smile growing on my face the closer I got to him. He didn't notice me as I approached, wrapped up in conversation with the handful of ladies in front of him, and my smile grew even more at the thought of his face when he finally caugh sight of me.

"...will be fighting over you," I heard Colin saying as I walked up to join the group. "I cannot compete."

All the ladies in the circle giggled, giving me perfect cover for my smile as I came to a stop in front of Colin. He turned to face me, a beaming smile on his face, then froze a bit as his eyebrows shot up when he realized who I was.

"Lady Y/L/N!" he said, the shock melting back into his charming smile. "What a pleasure it is to have you join us."

"Mister Bridgerton, what a pleasure it is to have you back in England with us."

Colin dipped his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a roguish smile before he returned his gaze to me.

"Believe me, Lady Y/L/N, the pleasure here is all mine."

Rather than the earnest excitement I'd been expecting, Colin's demeanor and voice dripped with a slick charm I didn't recognize. I'd been expecting his usual earnest, genuine emotion, not... this. I gave Colin a little frown of confusion, but quickly let my expression return to normal as he returned to addressing our entire group. He had an energy about him that I couldn't quite place, but it was much different than the Colin I'd gotten to know so well before he left. Still, we were in public. Neither of us were allowed to be anywhere near as effusive and close as we would've been in a more private setting.

"We were just discussing the season," Colin said, including me seamlessly in the conversation I'd joined between him and the other ladies. "Truly, it is amazing to me that all of your dance cards are not already full of suitors."

All the ladies around me giggled, hiding behind their fans and fluttering their eyelashes at Colin. I just stared at him, letting my brow furrow again as I watched my friend. He met my eyes, a smooth smile on his face and his eyes roaming me with an interest and flirtation they'd never had before. If Colin had looked at me like that when I'd last seen him, my heart would've started doing backflips. But his new demeanor made the gesture seem much less sincere, and much more shallow. I let my frown deepen.

"So..." I started, trying to clear the air of whatever strange energy seemed to be lurking here. "Mister Bridgerton, tell us of your travels. You sent so few letters this time, I have simply been dying to hear about everything you saw and did."

Colin flashed me a brilliant smile that didn't totally reach his eyes.

"This time, my stories from abroad are not suitable for such tender young ladies." Everyone around us giggled into their fans again, but Colin's eyes never left mine. "Were I to tell you even the tiniest adventure, well... I'd be forced to marry you."

He delivered the final few words with dramatic flourish, as if expecting for them to have some groundshaking impact. And with the way he stared at me with a simmering gaze, the words clearly intended to make every lady in earshoot swoon, he accomplished his goal. I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, which I quickly hid as a cough behind my fan.

Colin looked shocked when I glanced up at him, but I still couldn't keep another laugh from bubbling up. He was being so ridiculous, so arrogant and flirting with everyone in sight like he was God's gift to the women of England, and I truly couldn't take him seriously this way.

I cleared my throat and straightened back up, keeping it together just enough as I faced Colin and the other ladies, giving each of them a shallow curtsey.

"Forgive me. I think... something in the air, it must have gotten to me. Excuse me, please."

With that, I turned on my heel and didn't look back. I walked quickly across the garden, seeking out and immediately finding Benedict among the crowd once again, hovering by some shrubbery in an attempt to hide from the ladies and their mothers. I sped up to reach him, the giggling smile returning to my face as I approached.

Benedict must've heard me coming, because at the sound of laughter in a semi-high pitched register he turned on his heel and started moving in the other direction without looking to see the origin of the sound. I walked faster, until I was close enough to call out to him without drawing undue attention.

"Relax, Benedict, it's just me!"

His shoulders slumped as he stopped and turned to face me, relief written in every line of his face. After a moment, however, his expression changed to one of confusion.

"What are you doing back here so soon?" he asked. "I thought you would spend at least the next hour with Colin, catching up on all his travels and making every eligible lady here incredibly jealous of the two of you."

"Well, I planned to catch up with him, but... Benedict, you will never believe what he said." Benedict raised an eyebrow, so I glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then took a step forward and lowered my voice all the same. Laughing about Colin with his brother was one thing, but I didn't want anyone in the rest of the Ton talking behind his back. "He said he couldn't possibly tell me his stories from abroad, because they weren't 'suitable for tender young ladies'."

Benedict scoffed. "Truly?"

"Truly! Benedict, he's come back from abroad strutting around like some peacock, as though he is God's gift to eligible young women everywhere. You know I love him, as you do, but... I cannot take him seriously with his new attitude. I do not think I could if I tried."

Benedict smiled and shook his head, staring over my shoulder, presumably at Colin. Then he turned back to me.

"Did he seem to be directing his newfound charm at anyone in particular?"

I frowned. "No, not that I noticed. It seemed to be more like buckshot, just aiming with broad strokes at everyone in range. Why? Are you joining the side of the mamas in trying to help your brother find a match?"

"No," Benedict sighed, sounding truly tired. "Simply trying to guague exactly how long I may have left before I am the only eligible Bridgerton son for the mamas to focus on."

I laughed. "Do not worry, Benedict. I think you have some time yet."

Benedict didn't respond, but I thought I heard him mumble something into his drink that sounded like, "we'll see". When I raised an eyebrow at him and prepared a question, however, he quickly changed the subject, and I let him. We spent most of the rest of the afternoon together, hiding out from societal obligations and occasionally laughing about how strange his siblings could be sometimes.

After the garden party, I didn't get much of a chance to speak with Colin again until Lady Danbury's ball. He'd approached me once or twice when we'd seen each other in passing at other events, but we'd always been interrupted by other ladies, and Colin seemed suddenly incapable of interacting with me without his base layer of extreme, over the top charm. I would've felt bad for how little time I'd spent with him since he'd returned home, but every time I'd tried to ask him about his travels or how he was doing, he turned it into a truly ridiculous line of flirting, the likes of which we used to make fun of other suitors for before his most recent summer travels.

As a result, when Lady Danbury's ball rolled around, I didn't seek Colin out the way I would've last season. Instead, I found Eloise, Benedict, and even Francesca for a while when she clearly needed a break from her first season out in society. I danced with a few of the men who were tolerable, and otherwise enjoyed my time at the refreshments table and talking to people I knew. Colin didn't seek me out for the first half of the ball, either, so when I heard a familiar voice trying to get my attention after I'd found a spot along the wall for a bit of a break from the rest of the party, it was more of a surprise than it should've been.

"Y/N."

I turned around with a smile to find Colin standing behind me, a grin on his own face. We were out of earshot of the rest of the party, so we could dispense with some of the titles and formality that had lost all meaning between us long ago.

"Colin, hello! I was beginning to think I might not see you at all during this ball, such your other engagements seemed to be."

"Well, I could never let my other engagements prevent me from conversing with the most beautiful woman at this ball, could I?"

He said it with an easy smile and a charming sincerity, but I'd seen him use the same attitude and similar words on enough other ladies in our few interactions this season that his words didn't work to sway me the way they seemed to sway others. My smile slipped, and I fought to hold back a sigh.

"Yes, well..."

Colin smiled at me for another moment, and when I didn't pick up the conversation, he gave an easy chuckle and fixed me with another roguish grin.

"As delighted as I am for any opportunity to spend time with you, my lady, I did come over here to ask you if you might do me the honor of a dance. I truly cannot think of a partner I would rather have than you."

I fought a grimace, barely managing to turn it into a polite smile. I looked around briefly to make sure we were still out of earshot of any other party-goers or servants, which we were. I turned back to Colin with a sigh.

"Colin... I am going to tell you this because I truly care about you, although that may not seem to be my motivation at first glance."

"...Alright," said Colin, blinking a few times and trying to hide any confusion with another easy smile. I took a deep breath.

"I do not wish to dance with you." The smile dropped off Colin's face and his eyebrows knit together as I continued. "I never thought I would say such a thing, as quite often dancing and laughing with you were the only things that made attending society events bearable. But ever since you've returned home from your trip, Colin... it has been nearly impossible to talk to you.

"The man I thought I knew, my friend, whom I deeply cared about and whom I could talk to about anything, seems to have gone. And in his place I have found a Colin Bridgerton who not only flirts with anything that moves, but who does so in a way that is incredibly condescending and impossible to have a meaningful conversation with. Your letters from your previous travels were wonderful, Colin, and when you returned we were able to discuss them at length. You know I have an interest in learning and the world at large, and yet now, whenever I bring the subject up, I am told I could not possibly handle hearing about the things you saw and did, since I am but a fragile woman. Your sincerety and genuine expression of yourself has become cloaked in an oily layer of false sentiment and charm, directed equally at everyone you speak to, no matter your relation to them or your true feelings. I have no idea what brought about this change in you, Colin, but I am sorry to say I do not enjoy it the way the rest of the ladies here seem to."

Colin just stared at me, blinking and gaping like a fish. I frowned, feeling a big guilty, but lying to him would serve no purpose for either of us. Still, he was my friend, and I did care about him regardless of his recent changes. Choosing to ignore society for a brief moment, I put my hand out and rested it gently on his arm.

"Do not mistake my words as an insult designed to hurt you, Colin. You are my friend, and always will be. I have simply... found it harder to be around the person you have become recently. I am truly happy for you and your newfound confidence, but it seems to have extended a bit beyond confidence and into something more challenging, especially with ladies. Even ones you've known as long as you've known me."

I gave him a tight smile, which he seemed too stunned to return. I gave him a moment, but when he still didn't seem capable of a response, I curtsied and took a few steps backwards.

"Well. I will... take my leave. I do hope you enjoy the rest of the ball."

Colin just watched me as I took another few steps backwards. Finally, I turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn't sure how I'd been expecting him to take my statement, but complete speechlessness certainly hadn't been my prediction. I could only hope I hadn't wounded him too badly, and that he might come around enough to be the man I remembered as my friend and confidant, who could discuss the world with me as an equal and laugh with me through anything.

Thankfully, no one at the ball seemed to have noticed our exchange. Colin kept his distance from me for the rest of the evening, although I did notive him staring in my direction once or twice.

I debated finding Benedict to ask him his opinion about what I'd said to Colin, and how Colin might be feeling, but eventually decided against it. No matter how true my words had been, or how I'd tried to keep them from sounding harsh or designed to hurt, Colin would likely need his space for a time while he processed. And sending his brother in as my proxy would be the opposite of giving Colin space.

I expected Colin to keep his distance from me for a few days at least, if not for much, much longer. But as I took my seat in the sitting room of my family home the next morning for the start of the calling hours, I turned out to be quite incorrect. Before the clock had finished chiming to mark the start of the first hour, none other than Colin Bridgerton came striding through the door, ahead of the butler who normally would have announced him.

"Lady Y/N," he said, bowing to me and then to my mother sitting on the couch next to me. "I have come to call on you, if you are willing to entertain my company."

He still walked and spoke with confidence, but the layer of charm that had honeyed his words since the first day he'd returned for the season was gone, replaced by a directness and frankness that felt like taking a breath of fresh air. I gave him a small smile.

"I would be more than happy to have your company, Mister Bridgerton."

Colin gave me a small smile in return, and the two of us moved to the other end of the room, still able to be chaperoned but out of immediate earshot. I settled into the couch, Colin sitting right beside me.

"Y/N... thank you for being willing to speak to me. I had to see you, to apologize... and to explain."

My eyebrows shot up. Now that we were sitting closer together, I noticed a few irregularities in Colin's appearance. He had a few shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept well, and his hair wasn't as neatly quaffed as I was used to seeing it. His shirt was rumpled in a few places a maid or a butler or a hovering older sibling might've insisted on fixing if they could've, and although Colin's new confidence appeared to be mostly intact, the charm had been replaced with a nervous energy I'd hardly ever seen from him.

"Colin... are you quite alright?" I asked, leaning a bit closer to him as I studied his face. When I looked up to meet his eyes, I found them instead scanning my face, until he apparenlty snapped out of it and met my gaze. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yes. Well, no. Perhaps. I am not sure, I think my wellbeing may depend a bit on the outcome of this conversation."

"Colin, before you begin, if I was too harsh on you the other night then I must apologize-"

"No! No. You were not." He took another fortifying breath, closing his eyes for a moment and dropping his shoulders from where they'd been creeping closer to his ears, before meeting my eyes again. "I have been quite different since I came home. I found myself while I was away from society, in a way I have never felt able to do here. But... I also learned the kind of charm that most of the Ton enjoys. It worked so well from the moment I got back, I did not think much of it. But I should have. And I am sorry if our relationship suffered as a result of my attitude."

Colin paused to take a deep breath, and I took the opening to reach out and rest my hand on his forearm.

"Colin, you do not-"

"Y/N, please. Please allow me to get all the way through this. I need to say it all, and I may not be able to get it out if I have an opportunity to change the subject."

I leaned back a little to stare at Colin, though I didn't remove my hand. His eyebrows were knit together with worry and his eyes never left my face. Slolwy, I nodded. Colin let out a sigh.

"Thank you." He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter, resting his hand on top of my own. "I understand why my approach was... not appreciated when we spoke in the garden and at Lady Danbury's ball. But the sentiment behind what I was saying was genuine. I have been searching for the way to tell you this for years, and I thought the charm and flirtation I learned abroad would be the way to finally do it. Clearly I was wrong. You should have seen the face Benedict made when I talked to him last night..."

Colin trailed off, shaking his head and apparently lost in thought. After a moment, I took a breath to say something else, but the noise must've been enough to jar Colin out of his memories. His stare snapped back to me, eyes slightly wider than usual.

"I love you. I have been in love with you for years, and when I returned home from this trip, I decided to finally do something about it. I thought the charm that worked so well on everyone else would work just as well for you, but... clearly I was mistaken."

I huffed a laugh. That was certainly an understatement.

"I wanted everything to be perfect, to come home changed and sweep you off your feet, but I've already failed at that, and I cannot keep my feelings to myself a moment longer. I love you, and I want to share everything with you. You are my best friend, my confidant, and the only woman I could possibly imagine spending the rest of my life with. Is there even the slightest chance you may feel the same way?"

Colin looked at me with the most open, vulnerable expression I'd ever seen, from anyone. My heart raced in my chest, and all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and never let go. But I forced myself to take a moment, rather than letting my emotions run wild.

"I need you to answer two questions for me, Colin," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level. Unfortunately, I didn't totally succeed. Colin nodded quickly.

"Anything."

"First... how were your travels? Where was your favorite place to visit?"

Colin huffed a laugh, relaxing and leaning into me slightly as a faint smile pulled onto his face. My heart raced, but I forced myself to keep a neutral expression.

"I apologize for even making this test necessary, but my travels were... incredible. I may ask you not to share details with the rest of the Ton, but anything you ask, I will be happy to share with you. And my favorite place was Paris. I could not stop thinking about the two of us returning someday to visit together. It is a truly romantic city."

Colin's words removed any hope I had at keeping a smile off my face. I leaned into it, grinning at him and squeezing his hand a little as my heart began to race.

"Well then, I look forward to hearing all about them."

"And I look forward to telling you. Your second question?"

"...Did you truly go to Benedict for help with this last night?"

Colin groaned and threw his head back, which made me laugh. He shook his head as he met my eyes again, but he was smiling all the same.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I know you are close with him, and I noticed you going to speak to him after you abruptly left our conversation at the garden party. I thought he might have some insight, and I was right. It just came at the cost of quite a bit of mocking."

"You truly must be serious to give Benedict such ammunition to use against you for the rest of your lives."

"I am incredibly serious. And I would brave the teasing of every one of my siblings if, at the end, it brought me to you."

"Colin, that may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Does that mean... you return my affections?"

I smiled. "Yes, Colin. It does. You are my best friend, and I cannot think of anyone I would rather spend my time with than you."

Colin absolutely beamed at me. He began to lean forward, then thought better of himself even as his eyes still strayed to my lips.

"I cannot begin to tell you how desperately I wish we were alone in this moment," he said, voice low and husky. My heart did a backflip as I felt myself flush.

"Hopefully we will not have to wait long," I replied. We stayed there together, the tension and heat growing between us, until my mother cleared her throat from across the room and we were both brought back to reality. We leaned slightly further apart, although we didn't let go of each others' hands, and shared a grin.

"So... does that mean you will marry me?"

I laughed. "Colin, you cannot be serious! You began courting me a handful of minutes ago!"

I met Colin's eyes, expecting to share the joke, but instead I found him staring at me with a burning sincerity to go with his words.

"I am happy to wait as long as you need me to," he said, voice lowered slightly. "But I would also happily announce our engagement today."

I smiled and shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest so hard I thought Colin might actually be able to hear it.

"I may ask you to wait at least long enough for us to spend an evening or two together while courting, to see what it may be like to have a different relationship, rather than to spend time together as friends. But... I do not predict you will need to wait long."

The grin that spread across Colin's face was blinding, rivaling the happiest looks I'd ever seen from anyone in my life.

"That is good to hear. There are quite a few things I can hardly wait for, all of which come with engagement and marriage."

"Hm. Thank goodness we are both of positions and family that allow us to disappear for months on a honeymoon, finally sharing some travels around the world together. Among other things."

Colin squeezed my hand, and I could see him fighting back a handful of inappropriate responses and actions. I just grinned back at him, the two of us settling into our usual ease on the couch togehter after a moment so I could finally get Colin to tell me about the things he'd done on his travels. Hopefully, no one else would show up during the calling hours, and Colin and I could spend every moment of the day together just like this.

I'd meant what I'd said about wanting to wait, at least a short while, before announcing an engagement, and I did think it was a good idea. But I also couldn't imagine anything coming between Colin and I again after this. My best friend was back, and we were in love. What more could I possibly ask for in a match than that? Even if Benedict would be insufferable, claiming to be the one who'd set us up. It would be worth it, especially because we would weather the storm of his siblings together. Just like we'd do everything else that came for the rest of our lives.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

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allseasonslandscapinginc · 2 years ago

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cherrychilli · 14 days ago

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18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, established relationship, oral sex (m receiving), performing sex acts with food Summary: Eddie makes an unusual request when watching you eat your favorite candy gives him an idea WC: 2.7K

A/N: I've got a serious sweet tooth and with it being spooky season and all, I just had to write this. Enjoy!

You'd been doing it for a while now, peering out of your bedroom window to watch the brisk autumn breeze lift withered leaves of orange and brown up high before they fluttered back down and came to rest on your front lawn.

Somehow you were yet to tire of of the sight, feeling both soothed and all cozied up in the blanket you'd plucked from your bed. Draping it around your shoulders, you wrapped the rest around your middle while you stood there, creating a cocoon of warmth as you watched more fallen leaves tumble along the yard before the wind blew them up high again.

You liked this time of year more than others, content with quietly soaking up all the little sights and sounds Autumn had to offer when the sound of your cellphone rattling on your desk takes you out of the peaceful scene.

Crossing the room before you miss it, you see the name displayed on your screen and that alone is enough to make you smile, happily swiping to answer his call.

You'd been set on spending the day at home and all bundled up when only three minutes into the call and he manages to tempt you out of your cocoon. Eddie was always good at convincing you like that, this time inviting you over for a lazy evening at his place. He makes promises of a B horror movie classic shoved into the VCR to entertain you both and more importantly, a bowl full of your favorites to fill your belly.

Swallowing as you salivate, you promise to be there in no more than fifteen minutes, managing a quick change of clothes before you take off for the trailer park with your tummy rumbling all throughout your drive there.

By the time you arrive with five minutes to spare too, the once bright flamingo sky had started to dull into a dark raven, the stars and moon soon to follow as you step out of the car and make your way over.

Treading towards the trailer your eyes settle on something both new and familiar, a big smile breaking out on your face when you get a little closer and recognize the carved pumpkin sitting out on the Munson's doorstep.

Eddie and you had made it together a few days before, the two of you trying your best but ultimately struggling. The task was so much harder to complete than than it looked, leaving the both of you fed up and more than a little sick of the earthy scent of pumpkin that clung to your fingers.

You assumed he'd have thrown it in the trash but seeing it now, with its flame flickering gently, you found the misshapen, jagged edges framing the jack o lanterns grin oddly charming and not the disaster you thought it'd be. What's more, you liked that he cared enough to still display it proudly as a symbol of your joint effort.

Skipping up the stairs, you find the door already unlocked for you as the knob turns and you step inside, nearly bumping into Eddie in the middle of drawing the curtains shut. He takes a quick pause to kiss you hello, his lips tasting of sticky sweet strawberry before he finishes flicking the lights off to view tonight's horror movie.

"Take a seat, babe", he tells you, hurrying into the kitchenette and back with a few sodas.

You step towards the couch though you hang on the way he smiles at you, just as you had with the your gaze trained on the leaves rustling along on your lawn.

You can't help noticing the way Eddie's cheeks have begun to fill out from the frequent snacking he's done this month, not to mention the way his stomach has rounded out a bit underneath his t-shirt, the sleeves fitting more snugly around his biceps too as do his jeans as they show off the thickness of his thighs.

It's a subtle, chubby layer that makes a quiet urge brew inside you, wanting to wrap yourself around him and feel all the places he's turned softer before kissing him hard all over.

All in good time, you think to yourself, taking your place on the couch while Eddie feeds a copy of Basket Case into the VCR.

Propping your elbows on your thighs, your chin resting in your palms, you lean forward to peruse the evening's offerings sitting on the table in front of you, grinning excitedly at all the treats crowding the bowl.

"As promised my dear lady", Eddie gestures to the bowl when he catches you looking, walking back to the couch to sit by you with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

There's enough candy inside to cause a spill if you're not careful, the top layer alone filled with so many kinds, all different flavors and sizes. You realize you're completely spoilt for choice when your eyes wander all over, roving over cherry sours, peanut butter bars, strawberry bon bons, grape sweetarts and many many more.

"Eds, this is too much", you chuckle, poking a strawberry twizzler resting at the very top of the pile.

Without missing a beat he's quick to flash you one of his best smiles, wide and warm, enough to make the coldest parts of you melt. "Just wanted to treat my favorite girl", he winks back.

That earns him another kiss, one he's more than happy to receive when you pull him closer and press your lips to the full apple of his cheek, his heart somersaulting from the quick little show of affection.

"Thank you", you tell him sincerely, giggling when you notice the sparkle glittering in his eyes.

"Oh come on. It's the least I could have done", he adds sheepishly.

With that settled, your fingers twitch as you turn your attention back to the candy, trying to decide on what you should unwrap first before you settle on a packet of pink starbursts.

The first hour passes without a hitch after that, your thigh warm against Eddie's while the two of you juggle watching the movie, making cracks at it and snacking on everything sweet and sour.

A little pile of empty candy wrappers accumulate beside the bowl during that time, still quite a bit to get through even with Eddie's help. By this point you'd sucked on many a lemon head, chewed every kind of bubble gum and bit into the occasional gooey caramels that had you sucking the stubborn leftovers still clinging to your back teeth. You fed some into Eddie's mouth too, making him happier and happier to know how much you're enjoying his little gift.

So much so that he'd begun to watch you out of the corner of his eye from time to time with quiet fascination, watching you pick a new candy and munch on it before you moved on to another.

It must be the way you're pressed up against him and the way you sweetly kiss his fingers to clear the occasional dusting of powdered sugar or smudge of gummy cherry lingering on him because he's just about lost all interest in the movie playing on TV.

He can't help but note the way your soft, sweet lips fit around each piece of candy as you place them in your mouth, your cheeks growing full and puffing out until you've chewed enough to swallow. He's transfixed on the way your tongue wraps around every lollipop, the way you suck suck suck on every sour candy, every movement of your mouth conjuring the kind of thoughts he ought to keep to himself.

That is until he feels you shift beside him.

Your eyes are coyly set on the TV like you're yet to notice Eddie's gaze on you, or at least he had thought so. He knows what's coming next when his eyes fall to his lap, your hand resting there casually, lightly grazing his dark jeans as you inch it higher and higher towards his crotch when suddenly he croaks out, "Babe? it's not that I don't want it- its just...I have this... idea and I want to run it by you first."

The movie is entirely forgotten at this point, still playing in the background and keeping the trailer lit as you listen attentively, eyes blinking up at Eddie when he finally spits it out.

"You want me to do what?", you ask, half taken aback, half ready to chortle.

"You think it's stupid, don't you?", he asks, his lips drooping into a little frown.

"I didn't say that", you tell him, huffing out a laugh through your nose when he lights up again like fireworks.

"It's just that it's not every day that I get asked to suck your cock with a mouthful of pop rocks, you know?"

Eddie lets out a weak laugh, shaking his head when he realizes how his proposition must sound to you.

"Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry, let's just forget the who-"

"Woah woah, slow down-", you quickly bring your face up to his, pressing your index finger at his lips to silence him, your gaze locked on his bambi brown eyes. You let your other hand scale his thigh just as before, this time making it to his crotch where you rub your palm firmly over the girth of his stiffening bulge. "-and take your pants off for me, Munson."

A weathered couch cushion keeps your knees from feeling sore, your palms pushing gently at Eddie's hairy, bare inner thighs to make room for yourself between his legs.

"Y' ready?" you ask him, peppy with excitement when you retrieve the little packet of cherry pop rocks from the half empty bowl of candy, bringing it up to your mouth to rip it open with your teeth.

You can tell that the sight of you like this is only making him even more eager judging by the way his cock twitches against his soft, pudgy belly, leaving a messy streak of precum along his skin.

"Keep doing stuff like that and I might finish before you even get started", he chuckles lightly.

Exchanging smirks, you take that as your cue to part your lips and tip the little packet of pop rocks into your mouth, the taste of sweet, tangy sugar fresh on your tongue.

The contents crackle and pop there, tickling the inside of your cheeks and the roof of your mouth too. Setting the packet aside, you wrap your fingers around Eddie's girth. With one last look at his blushing mauve cheeks and his wide, unblinking eyes, you open your mouth the point you know that your jaw will be sore later. Not that you cared, gently fitting his cock inside your waiting mouth.

"Oh god- o-oh fuck ngh...baby!"

You can only imagine what it must feel like for Eddie, your eyes fixed on the way his own squeeze shut and his teeth bite into his lower lip. For a second you even worry he might be in pain as you watch him closely, concern taking over you as you try to remove your mouth from him but Eddie moves quicker than you can.

He works a trembling hand into your hair to keep you situated. The feeling undoubtedly intense, he still manages to guide you up and down his candied shaft gently, enough to make you hum with relief as you refocus your efforts on making him feel good.

The confection continues to crackle and pop pleasantly in your mouth, tickling the back of your throat when his tip nudges you there. His entire cock is sweet to the taste as you bob and slurp thoroughly all over him, the fruity scent of cherry blending with Eddie's natural musk permeating from the untrimmed hair at his base. You liked the way it brushes your nose when you take him in deep, making sure to breathe in the scent in deep, slow breaths.

As for Eddie, the gentle motion of you tasting every inch of him makes him squirm on the couch, your saliva turning thick with the addition of the candy, a sugary syrup of sorts that tints your lips and his dick in a matching shade of rosy red.

Among the many expletives running through his mind, Eddie curses himself for not having thought of this sooner but more importantly he thinks of how he'll be returning the favor later, dead set on finding a way to give you the same kind of pleasure you're so eagerly giving him.

Comfortably perched between his legs, you take in every sigh that falls from his lips, every groan and moan that makes you tingle from the base of your spine to the top, every breathy call of your name sounding more sweeter than the last.

"Keep looking at me...yeah, that's it...need to...shi- you look so fucking perfect right now"

As much as it fills your chest with sunny warmth to hear that, you want to tell him that you feel the same way too, that you've never set your eyes on anything as beautiful as how he looks right now.

If your mouth wasn't so full with him you'd tell him how much you adored his flushed cheeks, his swollen lips and the way his sweat makes his skin glisten but something tells you that he already knows, both of you able to convey your understanding through looks alone.

So when you begin to swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock like a lolly you can tell by his pinched expression and increasingly choppy breathing that his climax isn't far off but he makes sure to tell you anyway,

"Not gonna last long, angel...", he lets out a low, pretty whine, "that mouth of yours...fuck...'s damn near dangerous"

You fight off a small laugh as you beam with pride. How could you not after receiving such praise? practically smiling around Eddie's cock as you suckle him softly.

"Wanna watch you swallow it. Wanna see it in your mouth- all full of it. C-can you do that for me? m' almost there"

As much as you'd like to run your tongue along him just a little longer, feeling him twitch and pulse in your mouth you oblige, slowly sucking your way up to his tip and letting it go with an audible pop.

Taking a moment to rub at your tired jaw, you notice all the tiny leftover specs of candy yet to dissolve coating his glossy, throbbing length, your own mouth still containing a few globs of pop rocks.

There's no time to ask if you could lick them clean, reading the urgent expression on Eddie's face with ease and dutifully opening your mouth for him. He takes over by holding his dick and stroking himself quickly, his reddened tip resting on your red stained tongue.

All it takes is a few, quick strokes until his breath stutters and his body shudders, his thick cum spurting so much and so far you feel the creamy ropes splatter some of your teeth and hit the back of your throat where it then begins to slide down, triggering you to swallow.

While you swish and taste the leftover candy cum combination in your mouth, Eddie damn near blacks out from pumping his load into your mouth, his vision turning spotty before he's able to focus on you again. Chest heaving with deep, shaky breaths, he watches in mute amazement at the way you insatiably lap up his tangy spend, raising a curious eyebrow at you when instead of getting up off your knees, you turn to fiddle with the candy bowl instead.

Though it feels impossible, you find a way to breathe more life into his spent body so quickly after making him cum and no one's more surprised about it than Eddie. His stomach flutters and his cock begins to twitch back to stiffness when he sees what you've got a hold of and Eddie realizes with glee that the night is nowhere near over.

Holding up two packets in each hand as you smile up at him from between his legs, you ask him,

"So which do you want me to try next? watermelon or blue razzberry?"

#eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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libraryofloveletters · 7 months ago

Text

Portugal Pretenders

Virgil Van Dijk x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fake dating, the boys love to tease virg, past players make an appearance, takes place at robbo's wedding (I just made up random dates, forgive me if it's not accurate lmao), begging for a favour, wedding softness, some teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a few awkward moments, julia and thiago are their biggest fans, some nsfw humour, virg doesn't know how to use an iron, some childishness at the end, all around sweetness.

Word Count: 7.9k

Author's Note: okay, I've come back to bring you all a new virg fic, since you've been living in my inbox, asking for it. hopefully you like it as much as I do.

---

"And this one's for you," Andy says, passing the light green envelope over to Virgil, catching his friend on his way out. "You've got a plus one, make sure you bring that girlfriend of yours you're always talking about."

Virgil nods, a smile on his face as he takes the invite from Andy. The panic fills his head, slowly moving down to his chest as he walks out of the training centre.

Andy's wedding was coming up in a few weeks. The boys have known about it for months, and as much as Andy insisted to Rachel that they don't need actual invites, she still sent them with her husband to be.

The defender finds himself driving home, thinking about how on earth he was going to find someone to join him at this wedding.

See, the thing was, the boys thought he was seeing something. That wasn't a total lie, as he was seeing someone but it ended as quickly as it started. He wasn't sure how to tell his friends that it was over and it spiralled, coming up with random details to tell them every time they asked about this non-existent girlfriend.

He didn't think Andy would go as far as giving him a plus one.

Virgil pulls into the driveway, opening the envelope as he reads the invite.

Celebrating the marriage of Andy Robertson and Rachel Roberts.

Rehearsal Dinner: July 2nd, 2022 at 7pm

Wedding Ceremony: July 3rd, 2022 at 3pm - Evening Reception to follow.

Join us in Faro, Portugal!

The rest of the details were on the back of the card, the invite was white with green accents to match the envelope. Must be their theme, he thinks, making a mental note to see if he has anything green to match.

He gets out of the car, putting the envelope in his pocket when he sees his neighbour, y/n, pulling into her driveway. He waves to her, the woman smiles at him as she pops her trunk open, a million bags waiting to be taken into the house.

"Need some help?" He offers, crossing the lawn to her driveway.

You smile, nodding. "Sure. Thank you, Virgil."

Virgil starts taking the bags out of the trunk, carrying them over to the front door as you unlock it. "I'm surprised you're home so early." He says.

"Keeping tabs on me?"

"No," he shakes his head, cheeks red. "I meant.. I usually see you come in late."

"Closed the clinic early today, we've got a staff party tomorrow, hence.." You gestured to the bags. Virgil nods, helping her carry them into her kitchen.

The two of you were on friendly terms, Virgil often helped you out around the house if you were busy. Despite being a footballer, he tended to take care of the yard work and you stopped by to make sure were in order at his place if he was away for a match or pre season training.

"How about a cup of tea?" You offered and he smiled, "you sure? I don't want to be a bother."

"Not a bother at all, make yourself at home. It's the least I could do to thank you for your help."

"It wasn't much help, I only carried the bags to the kitchen." He chuckles, sitting on a stool by the counter.

You shrugged, "still. It would have taken me like, 12 trips to get all of them, you used your big footballer muscles and did it in one."

Virgil smiles, watching as you filled the kettle with water and took two mugs out of the cupboard across from him; one with little flowers along the rim of it and the other a red mug Liverpool logo on the front.

"Surprised you have that," he says, you drop the teabags into the mug. "What? This?" You nodded to the red mug. "It'd just be wrong not to support the local team." You two laughed, you referred to Liverpool as if it was a rec league team.

You two are there in silence, you leaned on the counter as you stood across from the footballer. The man looked around while you looked at him, counting to yourself quietly. Once Virgil hears your whispers, he looks over at you with furrowed brows.

"What are you counting?"

"Your wrinkles," you say nonchalantly, pointing to his forehead as you count each one. Virgil rolls his eyes playfully, swatting your hand away. "You okay?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"You sure? I mean, you usually can't see the wrinkles on that big forehead on yours. So unless you've aged drastically since I've last seen you, I'd say you're worried about something."

"Is that your official diagnosis, Dr. L/n?"

"Yup," you nodded, smiling at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. "100%, now tell me, what's on your mind?"

"Well," he sighs as he starts. "I was invited to a wedding today."

"And? Is it for an ex or some cousin you hate?"

"No, nothing like that. It's actually Andy, you know, Robbo?"

You nodded, shutting the stove off when the kettle begans whistling. "He finally put a ring on Rachel? Good for them, tell them congratulations for me."

Virgil smiles, "I will."

"Wait, so if it's for Andy, what's the problem? I thought you two were good friends."

Virgil makes a face, wondering if he should really tell you what's bothering him. "We are, I uh.. I need a date for a wedding."

You laughed, "that's what's worrying you? C'mon Virgil, you're a footballer. You're handsome, you're young..ish- regardless, it shouldn't be too hard for you to get a date."

He rolls his eyes at your comment, "yeah well, easier said than done. Especially since I've - never mind."

"Oh no," you turn to face him after pouring the water into the mugs. "You're not going to leave me hanging like that! What, since you've..?

"Since I've been telling the guys I have a girlfriend. That's why Andy gave me a plus one, I really thought he wouldn't do that."

Your brows furrowed, you were beyond confused now. "Okay, you've officially lost me. You're nervous to ask her to be your date? Or - oh my god! Is she a married woman, Virgil?!"

"No!" He laughed, shaking his head at your outrageous suggestion. "I'd never date a married woman, in fact, I'm not dating anyone."

You were getting the milk from the fridge when what he said finally processed. You turn to face the man, "so wait, let me see if I got this right. You've been telling them you're seeing someone but you're not actually seeing anyone?" You say, looking for some clarification. Virgil nods, avoiding your gaze.

"Why would you lie to them?"

"I really didn't mean too! It wasn't a lie in the beginning. I was seeing this girl, she was cool but we didn't want the same things so it just sort of.. ended? They kept asking and I don't know why I didn't want to tell them the truth but I wasn't sure what to say so I played along and now, well, you know where I've ended up."

You sigh, unsure what to tell him. You didn't even think there was advice to help someone who's gotten themselves into such a position.

"That's a messed up thing you're in, dude." You added the milk to his mug, handing him the one with the flowers. Virgil nods, stirring the spoon in the mug.

"Do you have sugar?"

"Mhm hm," you turned, reaching up into the cupboard to get the sugar from the middle shelf.

Virgil watched, admiring you; not only on a surface level but deeper than that. He likes spending time with you, even if it was something as simple as a chat across the lawn. You were beautiful and kind, funny and smart, your humour was witty and you were charming. You could talk yourself out of a crime if need be - you were exactly who he was looking for.

Seems his lies have sent him in your direction; imagine if he hadn't helped you take your bags in today.

You turned to him with the sugar, you could feel him staring at you but he was sitting there, elbow on the counter with his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he smiled at you.

"What?"

"Will you be my date to the wedding?" He asks and you laugh, taking the top off the sugar jar.

"You're not serious."

"I am, what are you doing in 3 weeks?"

"Probably work, but I can't be your date, virgil."

He pouts, much like a child when they're told no. "Why not?"

"How would that work?"

"It's fine, I'll handle everything y/n. You just need to pack your bags and get the time off work. Hotels, flights, everything we need there, I'll take care of."

"Wait, the wedding isn't here?"

"Portugal," he says, doesn't miss the slight raise of your eyebrows.

"I've always said I'd go back to Portugal, even if it's just for a short time."

"See," Virgil says, "it's like my lying led us here, this can be a good thing for both of us. I'll have a girlfriend for the weekend and you get to visit Portugal again."

You can't help but laugh at his justification. "Please," he says, "I'm begging you now. I'll own you big time." His hands clasped together under his chin as he looked at you with big, brown, puppy eyes.

"Like season passes to your box at Anfield big time?" You asked, a raised eyebrow. Virgil laughs, nodding. "Exactly like that."

"You've got a deal then." You tell him, he smiles. "Perfect, I can't thank you enough."

"Mhm hm, now drink your tea before it gets cold."

The week of the wedding arrives faster than expected, you had been in prep mode all week; getting your hair and nails done, trying to pack whatever you think you'd need for a wedding.

A celebrity's wedding isn't different from a normal one, is it? Is that what a footballer is? A celebrity ? Can you call it a celebrity wedding- Your thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.

It's Virgil, a big smile on his face despite it being 8am. "Why are you so happy?" You asked upon opening the door.

"Oh, good morning to you too, sunshine. Are you ready to go?" He makes a face, chuckling. He starts carrying your luggage out of the house as you make one last walk through, assuming you had everything and things were in place for the few days you'd be away.

"Yup, all set." You notice he was putting your suitcase into his car. "You're driving?"

"Yeah, I figured it'd be faster than an Uber."

"We've got," you glanced at your phone, "4 hours before our flight."

"I know, it's fine." He waves you off, shutting the trunk before opening the passenger side door for you. You lock up and walk over the lawn to his driveway, getting into the car.

It was a short drive to the airport, the music played quietly and Virgil hummed as he drove. He glances over to see you typing away on your phone. "Who are you texting so early?"

"Playing the possessive boyfriend already, Virgil?" A raised eyebrow as you looked at the man. His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head. "I'm kidding," you rested a hand on his knee. He looks down and you move your hand. "I was just replying to some work stuff, I've never left them for so long."

"It's only 3 days, they'll be fine. Plus, don't they know you're on vacation?"

"Not really," you set the phone on your lap, "I told them I had some family stuff, couldn't exactly explain that Virgil Van Dijk was asking me- no, begging me, to be his fake wedding date."

"Technically," he points a finger at you, "it's a real wedding date, you're just my fake girlfriend."

"Technicalities, Virgil."

He laughs, pulling into the parking lot. The two of you head into the airport and after checking in, the woman sends the two of you down a hallway that seemed like a dead end.

You didn't travel often but you knew this seemed.. sketchy to say the least.

"Where are we going?" You asked Virgil, the man opens the door for you and leads you right onto the tarmac. There's a plane a few feet away and you turn to look at him, dot connecting in your head. "Private?" You asked him another question.

He nods, "figured I'd spoil my girlfriend," he jokes, smiling at you as you two walked over to the plane.

You sat across from Virgil, checking your phone for the millionth time since you've left home. "You know, they won't be able to reach you when we're in the air, I'm sure they'll be fine."

"I know," you switched it off and set it down before the plane took off.

The two of you were eating breakfast, a rather large spread for being in the air and considering the flight was barely 3 hours.

"So," you set the fork down on the plate, "get me the details, who's gonna be at the wedding?"

Virgil takes a sip of his coffee, "well, Andy and Rachel obviously."

"Obviously," you chuckled.

"Thiago, Jordan, Millie, Adam and their wives, Ox and his girlfriend, us and then Trent."

"What, Trent doesn't get a plus one?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. Plus he's in the states, he said he's coming but we have to see."

You nod, the two of you chat a bit more. Virgil updates you on a few matches, how they think they're going to do, what it's like being captain. You tell him how the clinic is doing, how you're liking it so far compared to when you used to work at the hospital. Just small details that might come up in a conversation with his teammates.

Once you landed, Virgil collected your luggage and you were off to the hotel. It was a short walk to the venue from the hotel, the two of you put your stuff away and decided to go for a walk, grabbing a coffee before heading back to the hotel.

The rehearsal dinner was in a few hours, giving you two more than enough time to get ready. "We need to get our story straight," he says to you when you come in from the balcony.

"What story ?"

"Our outfits," he says with total seriousness, "what are you wearing tonight?"

You shook your head with a small smile on your face, taking the two dresses out of the wardrobe to show him; a light blue dress with a halter top, the small white flowers going from the waist to the bottom hem and the other was a burnt orange that was backless.

"I figured the blue was a bit more family friendly, classy enough without being too dressy," you hold it up to yourself to show him. He nods, "yeah, good. It's pretty."

You hung it back in the wardrobe before turning to him. "What are you going to wear?"

"We need to match." He was already searching through his suitcase for the shirt to match your dress. "Do we really need to?" You sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him.

He nods, pulling out the baby blue shirt. "This is close enough, no?"

"Yeah, but why does it look like you've had it rolled up in the bottom of a box for like.. 4 years?" Your brows furrowed as you looked at the state of it. Virgil shakes the shirt, trying to rid it of the permanent wrinkles. "Do you not have an iron, Virgil?"

"I do, but uh, I forgot to iron it."

You shook your head, getting up to search for the iron you knew you saw. You find it in the drawer in the wardrobe, handing it to him. Virgil spreads the shirt on the bed, plugging the iron in before fiddling with the settings. He looks between the iron, the shirt and you, a bit clueless before attempting to iron the shirt.

He works on the sleeve, making it worse than it was before, you watch as he helplessly works at the shirt. You figured maybe you were making him nervous in some weird way so you excused yourself to the bathroom to unpack your makeup and hair stuff.

When you came back, 7 minutes later, he was still working on the same sleeve. Your lips pressed together, arms folded over your chest as you watched.

"What?" He asked, glancing at you.

"You're terrible at that. Do you not know how to iron?"

He sighs, "it's been years since I've had to do it, I usually just get my stuff dry cleaned."

You smiled as you walked over, taking the iron from him and putting him out of his misery. "If I leave you to iron this, you might take the whole 3 hours to finish it. Why don't you go shower or whatever you need to do, I'll do it for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go. Before you ruin the shirt," you shook your head, switching the setting from wool to cotton. You wondered how he ended up on wool to begin with. "Thank you," he smiles, walking into the bathroom.

While he showers, you finish up on his shirt and hang it on a hanger in the wardrobe. You also looked for his pants, ironing the 3 pairs of dress pants he had brought as you didn't know which one he'd be wearing.

Virgil returns to the room post shower, white towel wrapped around him that sat right below his hips, and you had just shut the wardrobe after hanging up his pants. You turn to find him behind you, your eyes fixed on the man; the water dripping down his chest, down to his stomach and it stops at the towel wrapped around his waist.

"You're staring, y/n." He says, you can hear the smirk on his face before your eyes meet his face.

It's not like you've never seen him shirtless before, he used the pool in his yard quite often, not to mention the glimpse of him you catch in the media or what the Liverpool account posts.

Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before speaking. "I uh, I ironed your pants as well, I wasn't sure which ones you were gonna wear so I ironed all of them."

He smiles, "thanks."

You nod, excusing yourself to the bathroom to shower. You shut the door, back pressed to it for a moment before going about your routine. You weren't sure how long you were in there but you had showered, done your hair and you were mid way through your makeup when there was a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Virgil calls from the other side of the door. "I need to fix my hair." He says and you open the door for him, concealer all over your face, hair pinned up with the robe wrapped around you.

He smiles when he sees you; you look so.. well, beautiful but there was something else, a domesticity of sorts. The two of you getting ready in the same bathroom, there's some intimate in the way you were seeing each other right now. Moving in silence as you both did your own thing beside one another.

You break the silence, "how did we meet?"

"We're neighbours..?" His eyes meet yours in the mirror, confusion all over his face.

"I mean if they ask, your teammates. What did you tell them?"

"Oh," he says, wrapping the hair tie around his hair. "I told them we met through mutual friends, my friend, Kevin. His wife knows you and we were all at the same party and we hit it off from there."

You hum, finishing up on your makeup. You were searching for your lipstick, "and how long have we been together?" You find the one you were looking for.

"Almost a year. If my math is right, it should be like.. 10 months?"

The lipstick in your hand, you look at Virgil with a shocked look on your face. "You've been lying to them for almost a year? How the hell did you manage that?"

His lips pressed together then he shrugs, which makes you laugh. "Okay," you nod, "almost a year it is." You turn back to the mirror, applying your lipstick.

Virgil watches as you do it, your hands steady while you go over your lips, pressing them together to make the colour even. "What do we think?" You asked, turning to him when you notice he's watching.

"Beautiful," he smiles, "truly."

"So cheesy," you chuckled, walking out of the bathroom to change into your dress.

The two of you head down to the venue a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to meet his teammates at the rehearsal dinner.

Before you walked in, Virgil grabbed your hand which caught you off guard. Your fingers interlocked with his and it took you a moment to realize why he did that; the two of you were a couple, of course.

It was already full in there, most of their family had already arrived and a few friends were scattered through the venue. You see a few of his teammates but Virgil leads you to the front, tapping Andy on the shoulder.

"Virg!" Andy smiles, pulling Virgil into a hug. "You made it," he steps back and sees you next to the man, his grin only widening. "You must be the famous girlfriend we hear about all the time."

"That would be me," you smiled, "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, this is Rachel, bride to be." He introduces you to his fiancee. You smiled at her, the two of you exchanging niceties.

"It's nice of you to make it, Andy was saying how he was certain Virgil wouldn't be bringing you." Rachel says, her arm interlocked with Andy's.

"Well to be fair, Virg seemed a bit nervous to ask me to come but I wouldn't miss it for the world. I don't think I've said it but congratulations."

Virgil's heart skips a beat, it wasn't out of ordinary that someone called him Virg, but you've never had. You always called him Virgil, so to hear the nickname come out of your mouth, make him rather.. soft.

"It's my fault," Andy starts, "we did tell Virg to bring you around before but he always said you were busy with work. So I think it's fair of me to think you were fake."

You laughed, "I can assure you I'm alive and real, feel free to pinch me to confirm." Andy laughed at your comment, smiling at his teammate in approval of you. Virgil returns the smile.

"Anyways, make yourselves comfortable, we're going to start the rehearsal soon." Rachel tells the two of you, leading Andy off to greet someone else.

Virgil's hand rests on your lower back, the two of you sitting towards the middle of the chairs, watching as they went through the rehearsal. It was mostly family, his teammates were only there so they could all mingle and catch up as they had been on break for a few weeks at this point.

At some point after they were done the run through, Virgil suggested drinks and you followed him to the bar, his hand once again on your lower back.

"Virg!" You hear someone call for him, the two of you turning at the same time to see who was coming his way. Both Jordan and Millie were making their way over to the two of you.

"Hey," Virgil smiles at his teammates. "Guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend. This is Jordan and James."

You smiled at the men, "it's nice to meet you both."

"We thought you weren't coming," Millie says and Jordan follows up with a, "it's nice to meet you, we thought you weren't real."

"That seems to be the general consensus tonight," you laughed.

Ox makes his way over to the bar, seeing his teammate with a woman he's never seen before. "You must be Virgil's girlfriend, I'm Ox." He introduces himself.

"I'm y/n, nice to meet you."

"I can't believe you're actually here."

You turn to Virgil, making a face at him. "Why do all your teammates think I'm not real?"

"He wouldn't show us pictures," Millie says, shrugging. "I guess that's true," you nudged Virgil, "between Virg's practices and games, and then with my work, we barely get time to see each other and when we do, we're not on our phones."

Jordan makes a face, looking between you and Virgil and you instantly know what he's thinking. "No!" You laughed, shaking your head. "That's so not what I meant."

"What is it that you do, y/n?" Ox pipes up.

"I'm a doctor, an OB actually."

"Oh wow," Ox smiles at his teammate. "She's good, you've got good taste, big man. I see why she hasn't been around."

You smile, your phone buzzing in your hand. You excuse yourself, walking away to take the phone call. You can hear the boys talking behind you, you glance over your shoulder and smile at Virgil, the man's heart skipping a beat. Despite you not being his actual girlfriend, it did feel good to get the approval from his teammates.

Virgil hadn't even realized how long he had been chatting with his teammates, he went in search of you and found you just outside, chatting with Julia, the two of you talking about their kids.

"There you are," Virgil says, walking down the steps towards you. You smile at him, "I see you've met Julia." He gives the woman a quick hug before standing beside you.

"Yeah," you smiled at her, "I'm mad at you, you know."

"What for?" His brows furrowed, looking at you. He's wondering what he could have possibly done.

"You've been hiding me from her, Julia and I are best friends now."

The blonde smiles at you, "yes we are. We've already made plans to get lunch when we get back to Liverpool. I can't believe you've never brought her around before, Virgil." She tells him, her voice similar to the one she uses when she scolded her children, and or Thiago, when they misbehave.

"Oh well, I'm sure y/n's told you about her hectic schedule. Blame her, not me. I do hope you two have fun at this lunch." He laughs, his arm over your shoulder.

The rest of the night was quiet, everyone caught up with each other with their summer plans and you met the rest of the players and their partners over the course of the night. Eventually you two decide to call it a night, heading back to the hotel.

You were by the door, taking your heels off when you saw Virgil stop in the middle of the room, in front of the bed.

"What's wrong?" You asked him, walking over. You seem to realize what he's thinking; there's only one bed.

Not like they've taken a bed out of the room while you were gone but you two had been too tired and too busy getting ready for the dinner that neither of you seemed to register that there was in fact, only one bed in the room.

It didn't occur to Virgil when booking the room that you'd need a separate bed, you weren't really a couple after all.

"I'll take the couch," you tell him, not wanting him to feel bad for his slight mess up.

He shook his head, turning to you. "No, it's fine. I'll take the couch, you take the bed."

You glance at the couch next to the window, it was spacious - that's if you were under 5 foot. There's no way he'd sleep comfortably if he did manage to fit on it.

"You know what, we're both adults. We'll sleep together." You tell him, his eyes widening at your words. "Not what I meant," you smack his arm. "We can both fit on the bed comfortably, no need for either of us to suffer on the couch."

"You're sure?" He asks and you nod, "of course, but hands to yourself mister." You pointed a finger to him, making him laugh.

Virgil raises his hands, "I swear I'll be on my best behaviour," he says, watching you walk into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

The sun peeks through the curtains, waking you from your sleep. You shut your eyes, trying to get a few more minutes but you can hear the shower running and then shuts off followed by the bathroom door opening. The smell of Virgil's body wash fills the room and you sit up, rubbing your eyes.

"Mornin' sunshine," he smiles at you, sitting on the edge of the bed. You yawn, stretching as you try to wake yourself up. "What time is it?"

"10:27," he looks at the clock, "how about some breakfast?"

"Yes please," you get out of bed, fixing the comforter as you walk to the bathroom. "Lots of coffee please," you smiled at him, shutting the door.

Virgil orders room service while you shower, you return to the room just as it arrives. The two of you sit on the couch, eating breakfast in comfortable silence. Virgil grabs his phone, "Andy sent over some pictures from last night," he shows you a few photos that the groom to be had sent.

"Those are cute, send them to me."

Your phone buzzes on the bed and you look over at the clock, "shit, I've got to do my hair." You set the cup down on the table and walk towards the bathroom. "Do you need the bathroom?"

"No, I'm good." he tells you, "do your thing."

You walk in and walk back out, leaning on the door frame. "What are you wearing today?"

He smiles, "don't worry, I ironed it and put it in the closet."

"Properly?" You asked, walking over to confirm.

"Yes," he shook his head, watching as you took the shirt out to confirm that he did in fact iron it properly. "Wow, good job. Big upgrade from yesterday."

"Watched a YouTube video," he says, making you laugh.

You leave Virgil in the room, off to shower and then to start on your makeup and hair as you weren't 100% sure what look you wanted to do. Virgil left you alone, letting you get ready in peace. He could hear the music playing, your humming accompanying the melody.

He thought to himself that it was something he could get used to, that his house would feel so quiet and empty without you humming.

The line between real and fake seemed to be getting blurred more and more as the time went by.

"Virg?" You called for the man, he got up from his spot on the couch. He had been ready for some time, you still had an hour before you needed to leave. "Yeah?"

"Can you zip me up?"

You stepped out of the bathroom, hair pulled over your shoulder with your dress on. He smiles, nodding as he walks over to you; the sage green dress hugged your body in the right places, it was as if the dress was made for you and only you.

Virgil's hand rests on your waist, the other holds the zipper and gives it a soft tug, pulling it up to the top. The hand holding the zipper now turns into fingers trailing down the curve of your spine, coming to rest on the other side of your hip. "There you go."

Turning around to face him, Virgil's hands remained on your hips. "Thank you," you look up. He nods, "you look.. wow."

You can't help but laugh, straightening his shirt. "You look pretty wow yourself."

Virgil lets go of you when you take a step back, walking to the vanity to put your jewelry on. It takes the two of you half an hour to gather the last minute things you needed, assuring you were ready before heading out for the ceremony.

It's a short walk to the venue, everyone was being ushered into the church to take their seats while the bridal party was lining up to walk in when you two arrived.

The weather was beautiful, the sun was out and the church was full with their families and friends; they couldn't ask for a better start to their wedding day.

The ceremony was short and sweet, Andy and Rachel exchanging vows and promises, everyone was beyond happy for them.

Most of the guests were now outside, the doors to the church open as everyone was heading out.

You stood next to Virgil by the stairs, letting him block the sun from your face as you checked your phone. You hear the footsteps before you hear the voice. "You're actually here, you're real?" The Scouse accent thick, Trent.

"I am real," you looked up, smiling at the man who looks like he's seen better days. "You must be Trent."

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Excuse me." He says, covering a yawn with his hand.

Before you two could speak, Andy was calling the two players over for a group photo. You stop Virgil, standing on your tiptoes to reach his collar, his hand on your hip you keep you steady as you fix it before sending him on his way; a small act of intimacy that you'd only find between a couple.

You had been checking your emails, something you knew Virgil would complain about if he caught you doing it yet again. You were so caught up that you hadn't noticed him calling your name. When you do, you look up, making a hand motion as to ask him what he wants. He waved you over, pointing to the spot in front of him. Your brows furrowed, still unsure what he wanted as the dots didn't seem to connect. Virgil realized as much, pointing towards the photographer and then back to the spot in front of him.

Only then did it click what he meant.

You head over, joining the other girlfriends and wives in the photo. Andy and Rachel were front and centre, the rest of you around them.

"Alright everyone, squeeze in a bit more please!" The photographer shouts, showing you all with his hands to move closer to each other.

Virgil moves you from beside him to in front of him, his arm over your shoulder and your hand instinctively reaches up, fingers interlocking with his.

The photographer gives everyone a moment to situate themselves, "perfect, alright everyone look here! Smile!"

A few moments later, you were all allowed to move. Andy and Rachel were off to take some more photos, there was only about 30 minutes before the reception which wasn't too far from the church.

Everyone makes their way over, waiting for the official entrance from Andy and Rachel as Mr and Mrs Robertson for the first time.

You were sat next to Virgil, Jordan and his wife, Rebecca, to the right of Virgil and Thiago and Julia to your left.

Andy and Rachel were having their first dance, the whole venue was quiet as you all watched the two of them, wrapped up in love and giggling as they whispered to each other mid dance.

You wiped the outer corner of your eye, blinking a few times in an attempt to save your makeup. Virgil turns slightly when he hears a small sniffle. He sees your watery eyes, smiling to himself and leans in to whisper to you; "are you crying?"

"Shut up," you whispered back, turning him back around with a small nudge. "Weddings make me emotional."

The evening was quiet, dinner consisted of everyone chatting, Andy and Rachel made the rounds to say hello to everyone who they didn't get a chance to talk to at the church. Eventually they reopened the bar and the dance floor, everyone started making their way around, mingling, drinking and dancing.

You were replying to a message when Virgil came over, two shot glasses in hand. He passes one to you, "to Andy and Rachel," he says, tapping his glass to you. The two of you down the shots, tequila, based on the after taste.

"Okay, let's go dance!"

"I don't dance, Virg."

"It's a wedding, you have to dance!" He takes your phone from you, putting it into his pocket and grabbing your hand. "Virg," you groaned, the man ignores your pleas and takes you to the dance floor, spinning you around.

Before you know it, the two of you are giggling and dancing, his arms over your shoulders as he hugs you from behind, swaying to the music.

"I'm gonna get a drink," you tell him and the man lets you go while nodding before shimmying his way over to Trent, who looks like he was about to fall asleep in his chair. You laughed, leaving Virgil to bother Trent as you walked to the bar.

You had barely made it to the bar when someone shouted for you. "Y/n!" You see Thiago off to the side, "can you take a picture for us?"

"Sure," you take the phone from him, he and Julia standing together, arms wrapped around each other as they smiled, then Thiago kissed her.

Sometimes you wonder what it'd be like if you had a stable and loving relationship like theirs.

"I thought you got lost!" Virgil says, walking towards you. You shook your head, handing the phone back over to Thiago. The Spaniard then turns, passing the phone to Virgil. "Okay now you come in, let him take the picture."

"Are you sure?" You asked, Thiago was already pulling you into the photo.

He nods, you and Julia on either side of him, the 3 of you smiling as Virgil takes the photo, the camera flashing. Thiago steps out, letting you and Julia have some together, his wife telling him something about they have enough pictures of them together. You laughed, the two of you smiling for the camera.

"Do you want one together?" Thiago looks at Virgil, who then looks at you and you shrug, waving him over. Virgil hands his phone to Thiago while Julia replaces him by her husband's side.

Virgil's arm over your shoulder, your arm around his waist, the two of you smiling while Virgil pulls you into his side. "Alright Virg, give your lady a kiss." Thiago says, smiling.

Your 'boyfriend's' cheeks are red, a flush he can blame on the Portuguese heat or the liquor but you know the real reason. "Come on man, what are you waiting for?!" Thiago says, laughing at Virgil's shyness.

"Leave them alone," Julia tells her husband, rolling her eyes at his childishness.

"It's fine," you whisper to Virgil, turning to him a bit. He looks at you, whispering back, "you sure?" You stood close, the air between you two charged with a mixture of tension and anticipation.

"Mhm hm," your hand rests on his chest while he leans down, you tip toe a bit, meeting him half way when he kisses you.

But as your hand found its way to Virgil's cheek and your lips met against each other's, something shifted. What was meant to be a quick moment blossomed into something real, something raw. When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, a shared realization dawned upon them.

The kiss may have been staged, but the feelings it stirred within were undeniably genuine.

As you glanced at each other, a silent understanding passed between you and Virgil. This fake relationship may have begun as a charade, but perhaps, just perhaps, it held the promise of something more.

Thiago grinned, "perfect. The picture of love," he says, handing the phone back to Virgil. You smiled, your own cheeks now flushed and red. You reached over, your thumb brushed over his lips to wipe away the lipstick left behind. Virgil's arm wraps around your shoulder, the two of you chatting as you join Thiago and Julia for a round of shots.

The night wrapped up just after midnight, everyone waiting at the front to wish Andy and Rachel well, seeing them off as they left before everyone else headed to wherever home was after that.

Virgil's jacket over your shoulders while you walked back to the hotel. Despite the humidity earlier in the day, there was now a slight chill in the air.

"Did you have a good time?" He asks, opening the door for you. "I did," you walk in, waiting for the elevator to your room. "Thank you for bringing me."

"Thank you for coming, you really saved my ass."

It hits you in the moment that this was in fact, fake. You were doing him a favour, you weren't a couple, you never will be. Just a good friend helping him out in a tough situation.

When you returned to the room, Virgil announced that he's gonna go take a shower while you got ready for bed. The two of you moved in silence, you sat at the vanity taking your makeup off while the sound of the water running filled the room. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't real yet again.

All the feelings felt over the weekend were just for show. Certainly Virgil didn't feel the same way you did.

The steam filled the bathroom, Virgil lets the water run as he stands there. The kiss was real, the moments you shared were real, his feelings for you were real.

How the hell was he used to bring it up without it being awkward?

The shower shut off just as you were about to get into bed. Your phone bus is on the nightstand, and you reach over to grab it. There's a notification from Instagram.

juliavigas tagged you in a post. - 2mins ago.

You opened it, checking to see what she posted. There's a few photos from the wedding. Some of her and Thiago, the venue, one of you and her, as well as the one with you, her and Thiago. She also included the one in front of the church, Virgil's arm wrapped around you as you all smiled.

Virgil finds his way to the bed, sitting next to you. "What's so interesting?"

"Julia posted some pictures," you show your phone, letting him scroll through the pictures. "I guess everyone will think we're together now." He looks at the one in front of the church before handing the phone back to you.

"Wasn't that the whole point?" You ask, setting your phone on the nightstand.

"I guess so," he shrugs, the two of you sitting there in silence, the tv playing quietly in the background. There's a million thoughts going through his head at this very moment.

As he looked over at you, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Virgil couldn't help but admire your beauty, the way your eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored a flickering flame. It was in shared moments like these that he felt a pull, a force pulling him closer, urging him to take that leap of faith. But as the silence went on, Virgil felt the weight of his hesitation, suffocating him with its embrace.

How could he confess his feelings when the fear of rejection spun around in his mind, an unwelcome shadow over his every thought?

He glances at you once more, your eyes meeting in a brief exchange, Virgil felt a sense of longing wash over him, a wave of emotion threatening to consume him whole.

Still, the words remained unspoken, trapped behind the barricade of his uncertainty.

He had to take the leap of faith, he wouldn't know if he didn't try.

"What are we?" He blurts out, breaking the silence.

You turn, looking at him with a confused expression. "What are.. what do you mean?"

"Well.. we.. we kissed, so like, are we.. what are we?"

"We're not in high school, Virg. A kiss is a kiss, no?"

His smile fades, your heart breaking the moment you see that. He nods, turning his attention back to the tv. "Yeah, no. Of course."

"I'm kidding," your hand rests over his on the bed, "if you're asking me if I like.. if I like you, then I'll only answer if you put it into a note, like high school." You raised your eyebrows, making him chuckle.

"Yeah, okay." He nods. The topic was dropped, the tension lifting slightly.

The next morning, you and Virgil leave bright and early, heading to the airport for your flight back to England. The plane had barely taken off and you were still not fully awake, nursing your coffee as Virgil's fingers drummed on his knee.

"Dude," you groaned, "I have a headache, it sounds like you're playing a gong right now."

He stops tapping on his leg, brows furrowed and lips twisted in a weird expression. "Can you play a gong? Is that what it is?"

"I don't know, you know what I mean." You tell him, leaning your head back, eyes shut. You barely got all but 3 minutes of silence before Virgil speaks up again. "Do you have a pen?"

You open your eyes, reaching over to dig through your purse next to you before fishing out a pen and handing it to him. You watch him as he uncaps it, scribbling something down on the napkin in front of him, sliding it over the table to you with the pen.

'Do you like me? Check yes or no.' The two little boxes labeled yes and no under his question.

You smile, shaking your head at his childishness and the fact that he took what you said seriously. You picked up the pen, checking a box and sliding it over to him.

The yes was checked, Virgil glances at you with a cheeky smile before picking up the pen, flipping over the napkin and writing something else before sliding it back to you.

'Will you be my girlfriend?' the same yes and no boxes drawn under the question.

Your answer was yes but you wouldn't give into him so quickly. You picked up the pen, chin in the palm of your head thinking as if it was the hardest question of your life. You can see Virgil shifting nervously in his seat, and it's as if you can hear him overthinking his decision to ask you.

To put him out of his misery, you check a box and slide it back over to him.

There's a sigh of relief when he sees you've checked yes. You toss the pen at him playfully, shaking your head. "You're so cheesy."

"You said to ask it in a note!" He says, folding the napkin and putting it into his pocket.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it!" You laughed, the man shook his head and unbuckled, leaving over the table. His hands cupping your face, smiling at you before he kisses you.

Your hand interlocked with his, stretched over the table when he sat back down. "How about when we get back, I take you on an actual date?"

Your thumb brushes over his hand. "Not sick of me yet?"

"Could never get sick of you, y/n."

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