stayminho

[stayminho]

── 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑… 𝐍𝐎. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were once a feared name on the sea--once, but not anymore. your downhill life takes a turn when you decide to rob a pirate ship, and it happens to belong to one of your big brothers.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy's sister!reader x strawhats

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smoking, mysterious backstory ooooo ahhhh, fluff and minimal angst, not enireeeely satisfied with this but its left off kinda open-ended so ill likely return to this scenario later

Now, the Strawhat Pirates were used to not knowing much about their captain’s past. He has a brother with flame powers? Sure thing. A Marine Vice Admiral for a grandfather? Okay, that’s fine. Monkey D. Dragon is his father? Whatever, they’ve heard crazier. 

But really, at this point, they might want to just sit him down and get all of it out in the open. 

Usopp wandered through a busy marketplace, Luffy’s shirtsleeve in his tight vice. Sanji tailed them as an extra precaution, one eye on his supply list and the other on the ready-to-bolt captain. 

Luffy huffed indignantly, tugging at Usopp’s grip. “I wanna explore.”

“And we want to get out of here in a timely manner,” Usopp quipped back.

And they just might have done just that, if not for the hooded figure running right through Luffy and Usopp, parting their hands. A street vendor shouted curses after them, shaking a fist. “S-Stop! Hey!”

It was no use; the thief was too far away, and the man was too old to have the energy to chase them. He slumped his shoulders and pinched his brow, raising his gaze to find the stares of Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp zeroed in on him. “What? You plan on robbin’ the old man too?”

Sanji removed his cigarette from between his teeth with a shake of his head. “Sorry. What’d they steal? Maybe we can get it back for you?”

The old man shook a dismissive hand, frown deeply set on his face. “Agh. Don’t bother. You kids don’t get yerself wrapped up with her.” That was all it took for their prying curiosity to close in on him, and suddenly the man was surrounded on all sides. “Hey, now…”

“Who?” Luffy demanded first, head cocked to the side. 

Lips agape, he shook his head and jabbed a thumb at the wanted poster pinned up to the wall beside his fruit stand. “That’s her, if you’re so curious. Been robbin’ us blind all month! The marines tried to catch ‘er, but no one can touch the bitch.”

Usopp rushed over and swiped the poster down, skimming it over with a hum. “Doesn’t look too tough. I bet we can take ‘er.”

The man rolled his eyes. “That’s what we all said.”

Sanji peeked over the sharpshooter’s shoulder as he let out a puff of smoke. He blinked, cheeks growing warm the longer he gazed at the woman pictured. “She’s… beautiful.”

Usopp squinted at the slightly faded writing scrawled under the picture. “Wanted dead or…” He snorted. “Nope, that’s it. Just dead for 40,000,000 berri.”

“Lemme see!” Luffy sidled up to Usopp and stared right at the poster’s center, recognition settling in instantly. You looked older, but that wasn’t the biggest change—joy had returned to your smile, your beaming expression showcasing a side of you he hadn’t seen since before Sabo died. 

An unbridled laugh left him as he took the poster roughly, shoving Usopp aside. “Hey! That’s my little sister!”

“Oh,” Usopp hummed, taking a moment to process before his brows vaulted and he shot Sanji a look. “WHAT?!”

જ ⁀ ➴

You slinked through the streets toward the docks, hood hung low over your face, cheshire grin shrouded by shadow. You rolled a slice of mango around your tongue, sighing now that your hunger was satisfied. 

You wanted to pay the guy—honest! But being an enemy of the state didn’t exactly pay well, and a mercenary’s gotta eat. 

Waiting for a donkey cart to roll past, you bolted over to the wooden boardwalk just in front of the port. Nobody paid you any mind, assuming you to be one of the street urchins that made up the local gangs. You only meant to play a small joke on the young sailor you’d grown acquainted with, make his life just a bit more difficult, when your path was halted by the sight of a new ship docked at port.

It was a pretty caravel, a little rough around the edges from weather and climate, with a masthead of a goat peering out at the city. A pirate ship, for certain. A grin itched its way up your face. A pirate ship meant treasure, and there wasn’t much in this life you liked more than treasure. 

Well, there was one thing, but unfortunately, your brothers were scattered across the sea—two alive, one not so much. The thought had you stumbling over your own feet, righting yourself swiftly before you headed for the caravel. You mumbled pathetically to yourself, like you had been since you left your home village some years ago. The life of a mercenary is a lonely one. 

“Wonder what they’ve got, huh, Sabo.” Gazing up at the clouds, you grinned. The wind whistled through your hair, and your coping mechanism fell through. It’d been doing that a lot lately. Sighing out your troubles, you shook out your shoulders and crept up the gangway. 

A girl stood watch, facing the sea on the other side of the ship. At the helm, a swordsman lay sleeping. Other than that, it was empty. Just a skinny-limbed girl and a lazy warrior. Perfect.

You slipped on board without a sound, living up to your title as The Silent Death. Well, nobody had called you that in a few years, not since you were twelve and stormed Marine Headquarters looking for your grandfather. You hadn’t found the Vice Admiral, but you had given them a reason for renovation. You possessed the Terra-Terra Fruit, and the earth rumbled at your command. At least you still held the name Earthshaker.

Your first wanted poster had been a shot of you sailing away, laughing in the face of the destruction. A force of nature, they called you. Hired by pirates, warlords, and royalty to do their less than noble deeds. But that was a long time ago. Now, you were nothing more than a petty thief, loneliness and grief taking its toll after so long repressing it.

But never the matter! After this last loot, you’d have the money to buy back your ship, get off that godforsaken island, and finally restore yourself to your former glory. Then Ace would never call you on your little snail transponder and laugh at your series of failures.

“Hey.” You glanced up from where you were crouching behind a barrel, locking eyes with the girl as she blinked surprisedly. Her hand itched toward a weapon at her side. 

“Shit.” You cursed yourself and your inner-monologuing tendencies. “Bye!”

You darted up and made for the edge of the ship when a sword whizzed past your faze, narrowly missing your chin. The swordsman rose, alert as ever, two more swords ready at his side. You scoffed, huffing, “Why do you need three?”

Three… Two… One.

Eyes widened, you realized you knew that lazy swordsman (whose swords probably overcompensated for something) just as he started to recognize you as well. He jumped down to the deck, approaching warily as the girl came to stand beside him. 

Roronoa Zoro muttered your name like a curse. “What’re you doing here, huh?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you murmured back, genuinely curious. “What’re you doin’ on a pirate ship, pirate hunter?”

“Change in career path,” he snapped. “We don’t appreciate stowaways. Especially not a backwater odd-job dog clinging to her glory days.”

You tsked. “Now, now. I was just having a look around. No harm done.” You swept a bow, flicking your wrist as you searched out the sea floor far down below. “I’ll be going now.”

With your head bowed, they didn’t catch your growing smirk until it was too late; the oceanic crust spread across the floor, magma exposed to the salty sea at an unnatural speed. The water rocked the ship and all those around, the nearby sailors murmuring worriedly.

“Hey, I may be a loser,” you admitted, picking at a cuticle as their glares shifted to concern. “But I’m still the Earthshaker, Roronoa. Now, how about some financial compensation for my bruised pride, before I capsize this sorry excuse for a boat.”

The girl scoffed in reply, brows vaulted. “Yeah, no thanks. We’re very attached to our beri.”

“You are,” Roronoa yelped. “Give her something before we lose the ship!”

Lips pursed, the girl looked ready to either attack you or give up, so you worsened the sea’s uproar just to give her a scare. A relent was on the tip of her tongue when her gaze darted over your shoulder, relief flooding her features. “Luffy!”

The sea floor closed up in an instant, the color leaving your face. “Luffy?”

A body flung into your back, tackling you to the deck. You bit back curses, wriggling free, when that laugh hit the back of your neck. A million repressed memories surfaced like the magma you controlled, and you were suddenly twelve years old, leaving your last brother in the dead of night to set off on an adventure you thought would fix everything. 

Falling still, you slowly shifted to roll on your back, staring up at the beaming face of Monkey D. Luffy. You pushed up on your elbows, blind to the careful stares of those around, and gulped down some air. “Luffy?”

He chuckled gently, murmuring your name in turn, and you lurched forward to wring your arms around his neck. A tiny piece of your heart was put back in place (only a third of it, and you figured it would only be whole when you died and rejoined the brother lost). 

Leaving home so young was a shitty miscalculation on your part. You’d fled Dawn Island some time after Ace, and some time before Luffy. Your not-so-big-more-like-twin brother always said you’d set out together, that one day he would be Pirate King and you would all be happy. But you left without ever saying goodbye, joined up with a crew of mercenaries, ate a devil fruit, and searched out Grandpa Garp for some answers about where you came from. And years passed and you could never admit your mistake—not until you spotted Luffy’s smiling face in the wanted poster he always thought you would share. 

You leaned back and caught his eye, scurrying to sit on your knees. You wiped at your eyes as embarrassing tears started to well up. “I… I dunno…”

He knocked his head against yours, eliciting a sharp ow! from you. Luffy grinned cheekily as you nursed your temples. “You owe me an apology. So you can start there.”

And the fire sprang up in your throat all over again. Pathetic, you choked it all down with a nod. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. With S-Sabo gone and Ace gone… I thought for sure you’d be gone too soon enough… so I left you before you could leave me.”

You looked away sheepishly, rubbing at your arms. Luffy just flicked the side of your head and offer you the same bright expression he always did; it was the expression that gave you hope your life wasn’t totally screwed over, not yet anyways. “It’s okay—S’ long as you know it was stupid.”

You rolled your eyes and stood as he did the same. His hand never strayed far from your shoulder, holding you there like you might bolt away. Luffy gave a laugh and turned to face his friends, and only then did you remember you weren’t alone. You pivoted to face them all, locking eyes with a less-than-pleased Zoro.

“What’d going on, Luffy?” Zoro grunted, and if possible Luffy’s smile grew.

He took both your shoulders and shook you a little. “This is my little sister!”

You scoffed. “Little my ass! We’re the same age!”

Luffy held up his palm to his own height, then dipped it down to around your collarbone. “But you were always little-er, and Ace got to call you little!”

“Because he’s older than me!”

“Wait,” Zoro butted in just as you prepped to launch yourself at Luffy. “Sister? You never mentioned a sister.”

Luffy nocked his head to the side, lips pursed. “I didn’t?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He laughed it off. “But this is great! We saw Ace a while back in Alabasta, y’know.”

Nodding, you twined your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. “Yeah, I caught ‘im a few months ago.”

The reunion met a halt when Luffy asked, “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

Nami jutted out a hip and settled you with a look. “She threatened to take down the Merry if we didn’t hand over our beri.”

Luffy’s brows vaulted, lips a thin line as he turned to you. You chuckled awkwardly. “That is something I did, yes.”

But that wasn’t what occupied him. “How did you nearly sink the ship?”

“Oh.” You swirled your palms, gathering the granules of rock and dirt scattered around the deck and collecting it all in a tiny twister. “I got the Terra-Terra Fruit a few years ago.”

His eyes brighetend like stars. “That’s so cool!”

Usopp faced Sanji with a slack jaw. “What is it with their family and devil fruits?”

“Hello?” Nami waved a hand between you and Luffy. “She tried to rob us, Luffy.”

You inched away from her with a small smile. “Sorry about that. Desperate times, yeah?”

Despite the frowns set on everyone’s faces, you had a good feeling you would win them all over. You were just too charming, after all. Casting a look around, a familiar ache gnawed at your stomach. “Uhm, have you got any food?”

જ ⁀ ➴

The crew quickly decided that Ace was their favorite of the family. 

While Ace was polite, generous, and charming, you and Luffy were cut from the very same cloth. Messy and loud, the only difference was that you were slightly more aware of your surroundings than your brother.

“Yeah, she and Luffy were always tied at the hip,” said Ace, his voice crackling to life from the transponder snail Sanji pulled out one late night. “Just… don’t be too harsh on her. She’s had a rough few months.”

Sanji had no clue what that meant, but he almost wanted to find out, not just because you’re pretty. A shadowy look always eclipsed your face, no matter how big your smile got. Over the few weeks you’d spent on the Going Merry, Sanji tried to get to know your story, but you never answered more than a few sentences before disappearing the whole afternoon.

“You knew her from before,” he said to Zoro one morning, stopping the swordsman as they traded spots for the night watch. “Do you know anything?”

Zoro adjusted his swords at his hip, chewing at his cheek. “All I know is a couple years ago, she was one of the most wanted mercenaries on the East Blue. Now, she’s a shadow of that person on the Grand Line. Isn’t that just what this place does?”

“Maybe…” But Sanji knew better. Maybe he was so concerned because he knew that sometimes, on days darker and gloomier than the rest, he had that same look in his eye. So he caught you one night watch when you had no choice but to lean against the ship rail and deal with his company.

He took a long drag from a cigarette, preparing what he’d say, when you nudged him and reached out to take the smoke from him. Sanji scoffed a laugh as he handed it off, watching you inhale deep and expel it in a puff, your eyes heavy. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” You took another drag.

“Whatever it is you thought of.”

From the way your face darkened, Sanji thought you might stub the cig on the deck and leave him there to take your watch, but you only stood there, head hung between your shoulders. You gave him back his smoke hesitantly. 

“For the longest time,” you sighed, “I wanted so badly to know where I come from.” Sanji tilted his head in unspoken question. “Me and Luffy aren’t reallys siblings. We’re adopted, I guess.”

“Ah.” That made all your similarities a little more uncanny, but it made sense. You didn’t really look like Luffy anyway. “And… you found out?”

You nodded shortly, picking at a splinter in the rail. “Not to long ago. I always imagined that my parents loved me, and that we got separated by some tragedy that left me on Dawn Island.” Your voice broke off hollowly. “But that’s not it at all.”

He didn’t say anything when you started crying, and he didn’t ask what exactly plagued your past. Sanji just… stood there, offered you a cloth from his pocket, and waited till you compeod yourself to give you his cigarette. 

“Thank you,” you whispered as the sun peeked up over the sea. 

“No need. I’m here if you want to talk. All of us are, really.”

You doubted that, but you sent him a smile and descended to the girl’s cabin for some sleep. Nami and Robin remained sleeping softly as you slipped into bed, staring up at the ceiling wide awake. Your slammed the heels of your palms to your eyes, silently screaming into the air. 

“Why,” you hissed. “Why did I cry?”

Sheets rustled across the room, and suddenly Robin’s eyes glinted at you. “You were crying?”

“Who’s crying?” Nami yawned as she pushed up on her elbows.

You just about buried yourself in your blanket and suffocated yourself, face warming over. “No one! Go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Nami snapped back. “You practicality stomped in here. I’m thoroughly awake.”

“Same here.” Robin and Nami shifted to face you from their beds, sleepy eyes hooded as they gazed upon you. “What’s the matter?”

You sat quiet as a mouse, eyes wide and caught, until you flopped over on your side and pulled your blanket up to your chin. “Sorry I woke you.”

The two Strawhats locked eyes, brows equally raised. They’d been conspiring to figure you out ever since you joined their adventures, and this certainly added fuel to their investigative fire. Because as much as you laughed and played and made messes everywhere you went, a great shadow lurked behind you—and everyone could see it.

Like a lingering ghost of a past you’d rather forget, something haunted followed your every move. From the way you cast glances over your shoulder at every port to how you fell into frightening silence at certain points in conversation, the entire Strawhat Crew felt the way darkness pulled at you.

And they would find out why—Whether you liked it or not, they would find a way to help you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[stayminho]

zoro + deliberation

masterlist

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @ragethebunny

"get over here, witch," zoro barks as he grabs nami's arm, pulling her into a currently empty corner of the merry, checking over both shoulders to make sure they were alone.

"don't talk to me like that!" she hisses back, yanking her arm away with a narrowed glare. "what the heck do you need? i hope you know it's going to cost you, especially after you put your grubby hands on me like that—" nami starts to ramble, irritated and annoyed at his sudden insistence to talk to her, but she is wholly and completely unprepared for what zoro has to say in response to her complaining. somehow, the swordsman has developed feelings for you, and more surprisingly yet, had come to her for advice on how to handle it.

with a rapid shake of her head, the navigator cuts him off. "no. you can't. you can't ask her out," she insists, arms crossed as she stares at him defiantly.

"why the hell not?" zoro asks, confused, tilting his head as his eyes narrow into a glare.

"because she's only been here for a couple weeks! she's not even settled in yet and you're gonna scare her off!" nami insists, a flare of protectiveness sparking in her gut. she cared for all of her crewmates, but you were a particularly welcome addition, and the last thing she wanted was you getting freaked out and hopping off the ship at the next port.

"you're making things way too complicated. i can tell she likes me too," he says, unbothered by nami's concern.

"wait another month at least—" she proposes, but zoro only scoffs in response, making her cock her eyebrow upward, aggravated.

"i can't wait that long. i'm thinking about it too much, it's distracting me from my training," he shoots back, stubborn and insistent. the navigator's expression turns into one of interest; not much was capable of breaking zoro's focus, but somehow you were worming your way between the cracks of his normally rock solid composure.

she hadn't been bargaining when she told him to wait, but she somehow finds herself begrudgingly sighing and conceding her convictions all the same, knowing that he was too hardheaded to go back and forth with. "fine, but if things go sour between you two and everything on the ship gets weird, i'm stringing you up on the mast and letting the sea monsters jump out and eat you."

"you can try," he jokes with a smirk, chest puffed up as he absentmindedly runs a few of his fingers down the hilt of one of his swords. though the conversation was seemingly over, the navigator continues to stare at him with wide eyes, as if she was expecting something from him. "why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, nose scrunched up as he tries to pick apart the expression on her face.

"payment. for not running to her right now and telling her every gross thing you've ever done until she loses any bit of interest she has in you." she says with a grin as she stretches out her hand. with a sigh, zoro fishes into his pocket and drops the last of his berries into her palm. an invisible weight on nami's shoulders seems to lift as her wallet gets heavier, and she perks up, suddenly much more amenable to the idea of the two of you getting together. she begins to walk away, but not before throwing her head around her shoulder and adding in one more dig at the swordsman. "make sure you take a shower before you ask her out!" she laughs, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"is that wisdom gonna cost me too?" zoro huffs as he rolls his eyes.

"nope, that one's free," she replies with a smile before disappearing around the corner.

[stayminho]

next door | ningning

disclaimer: dom!fem reader x sub!ningning ; mention of cheating, anal. nasty shenanigans goes down.

there’s just something about the girl next door.

while your arms enclose her lower back against the kitchen counter, your stare never wavers, effectively crowding her space, embedding into her innermost thoughts until you’re all she knows. the subtle smell of guava body wash, the dampened state of her hair and the lukewarm temperature of her skin indicate she has just showered.

“oh, hi, you’re close~” she says in an ineffectual attempt at a joke — an unfortunate habit of hers that tends to tear endearing laughter from her friends and peers, that sneaks out whenever tension coils around her throat, biting into her and leaving her through a rush of words in rapid fire.

your brows quirk up, and your mouth twinges into an amused smile. “does it make you nervous?”

“maybe a little.” indulging her, you stifle an affectionate smile with a hum; petite and delicate, her warm hands crawl underneath your sweater, fingers spreading to touch as much skin as possible. her desperation is gratifying to feel when she reaches up to cup your breasts, pressing against the soft skin, rubbing the pad of a thumb against the peak of your nipples, then teasing with the palm of her hand. “but we said we wouldn’t do this unless i broke things off.”

“don’t be naïve.” you tutt, amusement folding around the words. “you’ll never break it off with them. and you’ll never stop coming back to me.”

“i have to.” she breathes, stammering, cheeks turning a timid crimson under your condescending tone. her hands then tear themselves from your cool skin and out of your sweater, as if she’s been burned. “plus, i’m just here to get the textbook i landed you back.”

you don’t award her a response, but observe her, observe with those eyes of yours that make her squirm. and amazingly so, ningning maintains eye contact with a quiet moan awaiting to part her lips, a pretty blush tinting neck, plump cheeks and the tips of her ears, dark eyes glazed and riveted on you like you’re the sole thing that matters in a thousand miles radius. but you merely tilt your head to one side, like a pending process, until she’s the one leaning in and your teeth gently close around her bottom lip to pull at it, tongue smoothing over the reddened skin.

arms bracketing her waist, you drag one up the length of her slender back until you’re cradling ningning’s head, foreheads touching and whispering against her lips, wet and glistening with spit, “don’t fucking lie to me.”

there's a moment when she falters, lashes slowly blinking up, where she seems to be lost inside her head, features dazed like something struck her in the side of the head. where she has to press her lips into a pout to stop herself from moaning out loud, angelic-like eyes peering up at you., “okay,” she relents, lashes shutting back close. “okay, mommy.”

that word alone, that title — it makes your blood sing, want dancing along your veins, and your grip on her tightens, pressing your hips forward to meet ningning’s. and then right there, the position she finds herself momentarily in reminds her of that fable she was told as a girl. you, the fox, and her the crow. you’re exactly what they warned her about.

but even as you twist her around to lay her torso on the counter, your hand pushing against the back of her head and her flushed cheeks against the cold marble, she finds herself loving every bit of it. she desires nothing less.

you lean forward to drape over her back, lifting a hand from her hip to wind an arm around her neck, hauling her away from the counter until her spine bows taut. your lips meet ningning’s ear, a smile singeing them —and in the fraction of the second where you exhale, she closes her eyes with a moan, swallowing hard against the pressure at her throat, and waits for you to speak again.

“do you know why you’re here?” you breathe, teeth grazing her lobe, tongue flickering into the shell of her ear. because you both know the reason why she is here, the reason why she showed up so tense but eager at your door, lashes blinking at you, beautiful and carved out in such an innocent light and every bit as nervous and quirky as usual, sporting that tight little excuse of pajama top that carries out a poor job at obscuring her perky nipples.

she knows why she’s here. and you’ll be glad to remind her.

“i’ll tell you: you can’t get enough of me,” you rasp in her ear, cool fingers skidding past her baggy sweatpants to curl around her panties, tightening your grip between her legs, in an agonizingly slow roll of your wrist, in a show of dominance that leaves you both wet. “just like i can’t get enough of your sweet pussy.”

ningning’s thoughts catch up with her then and she knows that, yes, yes of course she knows she can’t get enough. she can’t even keep her hands on her cunt without her thoughts carrying over to you. she can’t take a shower without thinking of the girl next door that dicks her down until all she sees are glittering constellations, until you stop grinding against her mouth and all she can recollect is the taste of you on her tongue.

there’s no other way to say it: you’ve weaseled your way through the erratic percussion of her being, until there was no way to imagine a time before you. a time where your mouth was not licking, nipping, biting at her skin.

having you pressed up against her brings it all back— creaming down her thighs, the heavy breathing, the filthy whispering in her ear as you encouraged her to fuck herself deeper while you watched, a hand snugged in the confines of your shorts. she swallows a lump in her throat, and clutches the countertop’s edge until her knuckles turn white, her pussy throbbing while she doesn’t even attempt to mask the side-to-side grinding of her ass against your crotch.

you crook your fingers into the hem of her sweatpants, pluck them down her legs and gasp an intake of ragged breath into your lungs. “god, you’re so sexy – see how simple this could all be, ning?”

ningning buries her face in her arms, giggling until it rapidly dissolves into a heated, keening cry of pleasure as you bring a hand down her ass with a loud crack. the second swat comes just after, a bit harder - where her skin is sensitive – on her barely covered cunt. she relishes in the third, on her left asscheek, blood rushing in her ears she doesn’t even register her yelps.

she’s a mess and a splendid one at that; her pinked folds visible through the skimpy fabric, the soft, barely-there curls just on her outer lips, the smooth creamy spread of her thighs. they make you froth at the mouth, land a slap on the stretched skin of her ass, watching it darken an enticing red once again and pull the lacy panties down, the seams of them already dampened with arousal as they meet her sweatpants in a pool at her feet. “i could fuck you all day.” you purr, thumb dragging along the wet slit of her vulva, flicking against the nub of her clit.

you give it a push, then a twist and ningning jerks, whining a little. head falling between her outstretched arms, she humps back against the cold digit. you give a low bark of a mocking laugh, tracing that thumb up, all the way between her asscheek, massaging the puckering hole, drawing more embarrassing noises out of her.

she’s tight and flushed, and the slick coating your finger makes the slide into her so much easier than you had foreseen, the initial resistance easily pushed through. you watch with a peculiar sense of fascination as you slide in to the middle knuckle within a single motion, front teeth caught in the skin of your bottom lip. the friction is delicious, the tight wrap of muscle holding you as you slip the rest in.

a feeling, wicked and unforgiving pops inside your chest – the very same one that prompts you to kneel behind her, nipping at the flesh of her thigh before dragging your tongue across her pussy. the feeling is indescribable. it almost seems unreal, to have multiple sources of pleasure at the same time, but that feeling, that every bit of her is clutched and caressed and gripped couldn’t be farther from the truth, it’s the realest she’s ever felt.

there’s a whine from ningning as you glide your finger back out again only to press it back in a little firmer, prodding against her prostate while she shudders under your tongue, opening her up, swirling around her hole and dipping her hot and silken lips.

your hand lowers to seize her right thigh – thick, sturdy under your grip – and lift it over the counter. no problem there, she’s as flexible as ever. your hands are cool against her skin so ningning opts to track when they move up to her hips, then back down and around her ass, thumb dipping back in between her ass cheeks.

ningning’s secretly glad to be in this position, able to conceal her oncoming wave of embarrassment at being so openly spread out like this – so easily handled and laid for you to witness. and the sight is too picturesque you’re not sure you’d be able to tear your eyes away from it all: the sweet, sensual pull and drag of her warm, soft, and pink hole and the pulsing cunt that keens under your relentless ministrations.

“oh~” is all she can manage, every part of her being is focused on you, on the most wonderful image she can’t witness, your thumb deep in her asshole, slipping in and out and your face deep between her thighs, sucking at her droopy fold as she cries “mommy”, over and over again.

fingers scrabbling to grip something, ningning’s brain is disintegrating into a puddle, splattering off incoherent thoughts all over the place with gasps she doesn’t even realize she’s letting out. she clenches on your thumb, just barely accommodating to the intrusion, mentally scrambling as you pull out, then thrust back in without warning with not your thumb, but your index and middle finger.

you move inside her, prodding and curling and searching until she’s full on sobbing above you, arching back against your touch, letting out cries of pure, wanton helplessness. simultaneously, you lick down the outer layers of her pussy and slowly circle your way in with a lazy flick, criss-crossing your tongue between those pink folds, slicking skin with spit as you take note, with pride swelling in your chest, how much she’s dripping and coating your tongue in her taste as you continue on licking savagely.

everything is suddenly too sensitive, even your breath against her skin was too much, but it's not just that, it's your hand pressing down on the back of her right thigh, keeping her legs spread – one still on the counter, the other barely holding her up. the quick darts your tongue, teeth grazing on the edge of her puffy outer lips and just like that, she’s fucking ascending.

you give her a moment for her heart to settle, waiting until her body’s stopped convulsing and her breathing’s gone somewhat back to normal to drape back over her.

“don’t pass out on me now.” you chuckle, taking a hold on her hips to pull the swell of her ass flushed against you, not particularly bothered to be gentle. “we’ve done more than this, get up pretty girl.” you give her ass a light swat and ningning whines, pushing up on her forearms to chase after the feeling.

peering over her shoulder, a silent plea is whispered through the widening of her eyes. rolling yours in a faux exasperated manner, you lean forward to wrap, ever so gently, your arms around her and kiss over the curve of her shoulder, then up the sweet spot behind her ear that made her shudder against the warmth of your touch.

it’s an hour later, when you’ve ran her a heated, salted bath and she’s stumbling out of your door that you feel the lump in the pocket of your pajama bottoms – a pink, lacy underwear folded in two that she must have shoved in there at some point.

she knew it’d keep you all night, all hot and bothered. and suddenly, this became not so one sided anymore.

[stayminho]

Just Friends

pairing: beomgyu x reader

summary: Just friends, just friends. That's all there is, all there's ever been but have you really ever been just friends?

warnings: gn reader, dom reader, sub beomgyu, thigh riding, handjob, lots of groping, car sex, mentions of masturbation, possibly more that i forgot

word count: 2.2k

a/n: writer's block is so real, i literal pulled this out of a sleep-deprived haze at 4 in the morning so feedback would be appreciated<3

Just friends. He tells himself over and over again.

Just friends. You tell yourself over and over again.

But friends don't do things like this on rainy nights in the back of your car. With your windows fogging up and the only light coming from a lone streetlight from the corner of the parking lot.

Friends don't clutch his hips, grinding him down against your thigh. Friends don't pant heavily at the feeling of his fingernails digging deep into the skin of your shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood.

At least they shouldn't.

But maybe you and Beomgyu have never really been 'just friends'.

"God," but it's never gone this far before. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

Sure there's been teasing touches and lingering looks, meaningful conversations that maybe meant more than either of you had wanted to admit.

But you hadn't expected it to go this far.

To have him clinging to you. To have his lips all over your neck and your hands all in his hair.

To have his pants discarded somewhere in the back along with his boxers in your haste...

To have his dick rubbing against the rough material of your jeans. To have him sobbing into your ear to not stop, to never stop, that he'll die without your touch.

You suppose your best friend has always been a touch dramatic.

If you could even call him that anymore-your best friend.

"Don't worry baby," every nerve ending in his body feels like it's on fire. His ears feel like they're ringing, replaying your words over and over like a broken record. "I won't."

It feels so good, it hurts so bad.

Tears stream down his face from both-from everything. From you calling him baby like he's yours. With so much affection and adoration, like he's the most important thing in the world to you right now.

Like he isn't shaking against you, crying out like some kind of wounded animal (in heat), thinking or maybe even muttering how he can't get enough, how it'll never be enough, how he wants you so bad, how he'll die before he lets you go.

Your hand guides his lips to yours, soft and sweet and hungry. Devouring every one of his whines up and replying with your own want for more, kissing him like your life depends on it. You'd always thought that he'd sound pretty, but not this pretty, not this pathetic or needy.

"Fuck, Beomgyu."

Your mouth clashes against his over and over, saliva dripping down his chin as he tries and fails in trying not to drool. You're too preoccupied in nipping at his lips that you're faintly aware of his hands slipping under your shirt until they're on your chest, squeezing and exploring everything he's only fantasized of.

He hasn't felt this good before. Ever. Not from past partners or from his own hand. Toys feel like nothing compared to this, the unforgiving bite of denim somehow lightyears better than vibrators and dildos and whatever else he's used to replicate your touch.

The friction makes him feel like he's burning but his hips just rut faster. He wishes it was your skin, soft and comfortable and you-but he doesn't think he can be patient enough. Doesn't think he can find it in himself to let go of you long enough for you to take your pants off. He has his nose in your hair and the taste of you on his tongue, and he can't stop now.

He can't stop. Not when he's wanted this for so, so long.

Okay, so maybe you've never truly been 'just friends'.

Well, maybe before that first time you were out at a party together and a friend of a friend approached Beomgyu, trying to talk him up while you stood right next to him.

Before you'd watched, something ugly simmering in the pit of your stomach that you couldn't fully decipher-that you weren't sure you wanted to decipher.

It was only until Beomgyu shot you a pleading look that you were able to keep your cool and then you'd very kindly told that friend of a friend to back the fuck off and leave the two of you alone.

And maybe, just maybe Beomgyu had gone home that night and let his hand wander past his waistband to wrap around his aching cock.

Jesus christ.

With each stroke of his hand he conjured your image in his mind. It was you looking at him, watching him-touching him. Talking to him in that same cold, mean voice you had talked to that friend of a friend.

Hating him and loving him all in one, rough and cruel but soft and caring. He wanted all of it, all of you.

And then afterwards it was basking in an afterglow of remembering the way that your eyes softened once again when they landed on him and your hand touched his shoulder and you asked if he was okay.

Friends do this...right? He'd thought, not ready yet to admit that maybe it was something more.

Just friends that brought you to his apartment a few weeks later, slightly ashamed and very drunk and looking for some kind of comfort after you'd been out drinking for better part of the night.

Just friends that had your hands all over his body and your lips all over his throat, sloppy wet kisses making his head spin and his body heat up. That'd had you shoving him down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, pushing your knee between his legs as your cold hands slithered up his shirt in search of warm, smooth skin to lay claim on as yours.

Just friends with the way that you promptly passed out on top of him and conveniently remembered nothing of the night before. Of groping your best friend, of telling him how pretty he was, of whispering that he was a good boy.

'I want you.'

'You're so pretty.'

'Perfect.'

'My good boy.'

'Mine.'

Friends don't know the way his moans sound. Or the way his skin feels against yours.

Like tonight,

A movie. That was all it was supposed to be.

Platonic. Friends. Just going to see a movie together, get dinner after. Nothing more.

"Touch me! G-od, please touch me!" His hand flies up, fingers dig into your wrist as he pulls it down between his legs, his dick throbbing and needy.

It feels so much better-your hand-your skin, your fingers loosely wrapping around him, teasingly rubbing at the tip. "And why should I baby? Have you been good? Have you been a good boy?"

He doesn't know.

He doesn't knowHe doesn't knowHe doesn't know.

All he knows is you.

Just friends shouldn't let things get to this point.

...Oh well.

A movie. A quiet theatre. Darkness and eyes all too often glancing at the profile of the other.

A tension palpable in the air as fingers brushed against each other to grab popcorn. Hands aching, itching to hold each other. An agonizing one hundred and twenty minutes.

Nothing though.

Only getting into the car afterwards and driving off.

"What do you want to eat?" He only shrugs in reply and you roll your eyes. "Helpful."

"Well I dunno," he thinks, "the usual? I can place an order to your place and we should get back before it gets there."

You hum in reply. "It's late though, you planning to stay over for the night?"

"...Sure."

Hesitation. He can only think of the last time you stayed the night. So long ago now, he'd avoided either of you spending the night at the others ever since. From fear? From preservation? Or from hoping that your frustration would break the dam first.

'I want you.'

'Mine.'

Words that flash through his mind unbridled. Sounds and touches that flood his brain

'My good boy.'

He swallows, trying to keep his eyes on the screen of the phone. Trying to hope the darkness blankets how red his face has turned.

"Hey could you pull over here?"

"Sure?" You'd glanced over at him and the question on your face evident.

He didn't elaborate though and you didn't ask.

You'd pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. Only a few cars left in front of a grey, drab building. Parked beside a flickering streetlight that continued for a few minutes before doing out completely. Certainly the furthest thing from being romantic by any means.

Nothing specific broke the tension, the unspoken rules.

But the next thing the either of you know is he's on your lap clawing at you aimlessly, pure desire fuelling him to do such pathetic things. Like telling you how horny he is and how bad he needs you.

You don't seem to have any problem with his confession though.

Responding in turn rather appropriately you'd think. And then your lips are against his and you're tugging at his clothes and touching his body like he's your last lifeline.

And then you're in the backseat of the car, his pants and boxers discarded into the back, your lips curled into a smirk against his skin.

And then you're here.

Doing things that friends certainly should not be doing.

"M' a good boy, promise! Please, I'll be your good boy!"

You'd imagined how his face would look all fucked out all but a million times in the dead of night, thinking about things you certainly should not have been thinking about.

But you'd never know that your imagination would do absolutely no justice to the real thing.

To his lips slick with your spit and his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. Eyes fluttering like he's fighting to merely keep them open with every sensation he's feeling.

"Pretty~" you mutter.

Bite marks and hickeys all over his neck and collarbone-good thing it's nearly scarf season. Or bad thing, you're not sure you want him to hide these or if you want him to parade them around, show off your claim to him to everyone.

"So fucking pretty it's not fair-" a high, needy whine climbs up his throat and he lets it, because you don't even have to say it, he knows how much you love hearing how good you make him feel.

His eyebrows tug together as if in concentration. Concentration to stay sane while you let him fuck into your hand.

You trail a finger over his cheekbone, collecting a tear while everything within him tries not to let this end, because it can't be over yet, he doesn't want it to be over yet and he's not sure he can go again until later-if there is a later.

You lick the tear off your finger and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. "Not fucking fair to make me wait this long. Such a tease, such a whore."

Fingers press against his lips and he opens with zero hesitation. This is what you want, this is what he wants-more than anything.

You pull them out all too soon and replace your fingers with your tongue, letting him suck it into his mouth with a moan.

Your grip tightens, your hand moves faster and faster and his toes curl. Too much, too much-he can't...it can't, he doesn't want this to be over-

"No!"

His head falls into your neck with a strangled scream as he cums into your hand, staining your jeans and his shirt. You stroke him still to prolong the pleasure, milking him dry of everything he has before he lets out the first whine of protest and you stop.

"Please,"

His breath comes out in rushed pants, his head a jumbled mess of "more, please more-" followed by incoherent babbles and then, finally, "I can go again, wanna...wanna go again. Just...use me, use me however you want." as his hips work still, even if it only works against what he really wants, releasing pained whimpers all the while from the self-inflicted overstimulation.

You smile and he can practically hear it before he's flipped into his back, spread out and pinned against the slightly uncomfortable seats of your car as you press apart his legs, eyes roving over him before beginning to undo your pants.

"Use you, huh baby?"

Yes.

However you want. Use him however you want. That's all he wants. All he's wanted for so long.

The pads of your fingers press against his thigh, too close and he squirms with oversensitivity.

"We'll still be friends after this though right?"

He lets out a noise between a cry and an affirmation, eyes sliding shut as your body presses against his.

"Friends!" He gasps.

Your fingers lace together. You smile.

"But not just friends now are we...?"

a/n: y'all please forgive me if this is absolute bullshit. i feel like i haven't written anything for real in forever and i feel like rusty now lol. but lmk what you think (to possibly give me inspo to write more lol😭)

my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix,

[stayminho]

Even the Stars Need the Dark

Pairing: Darkprince!Han x Lightprincess!Reader

Genre: Smut? More suggestive than anything, there will be eventual smut in later parts, pwp, angst if you squint

Warnings!: THIS IS A SERIES! Author switches between Han and Jisung throughout, Enemies (one sided) to lovers, Han pining over Y/N, princess being used as a pet name, and slight cursing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: In which Prince Han Jisung of Lunaris meets Princess Y/N of Sola, and is determined to change her mind about both his kingdom and himself.

This is Part 2! Part 1 will be listed HERE.

You were sitting on a chair on your bedroom balcony, reading. 'Damn royal duties,' you thought to yourself as you were studying the origins of Latin.

You looked up from your book and over the balcony stone railing. It had a perfect view of the kingdom, everything the sun touched was visible to you.

You basked in the view, letting the sounds of your subjects, the birds, and the crickets fill your senses. It was quite tranquil.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

As soon as you heard the foreign voice you leapt up from your chair and turned to see who was behind you. Lo and behold, there he was. His hair neatly combed while his crown nestled comfortably on top, his usual smirk on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You picked up your book and raised it.

"Relax, Your majesty." Han laughed. "Wouldn't want you to go and paper cut me now."

You groaned in frustration. "How'd you even get up here?" You kept the book raised.

"Just some upper body strength." He shrugged it off nonchalantly

'Did he really just climb up the side of the castle while I wasn't aware?' You wondered, glaring daggers at him. Though you definitely wouldn't be surprised.

Even through his attire you could see how well defined his arms were, and if you stared just a bit harder his peck muscles would be available for your eyes too.

Han took a couple steps towards you, grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips, and gently kissed your knuckles. You felt repulsed, but did not retreat your hand.

"I'm going to ask you one last time. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you Princess. Is there anything so wrong with that?"

"Everything is wrong with that." You spat back.

"Still the disdain? Still the hatred? You know, you never exactly told me why you hate me so much."

"You wanna know why? Because you're a selfish, spoiled, ridiculously unaware boy who does everything for himself and nothing for his kingdom."

You pushed past him and into your bed room.

"What a sharp tongue you have, your majesty. I wonder how it would feel for that same tongue to be roaming around my body as you scream my name." He followed you in, and stood right in front of you.

"You're so crude." You hissed at him, ears going red. "And you wonder why I can't stand you"

"If that's true than why haven't you called for your guards? I know there are two outside your door this very moment. You could kick and scream and yell, and yet you stay here listen to me speak. If you can't stand me so much, then why does that point stand?" For once, he didn't have a grin or a smirk on his face, no amused or cocky expression was present.

You collected yourself before answering, knowing he had a point. "Because unlike you, I think about others besides myself-"

"Is this your way of saying you think about me?" And there it was, Jisung's original personality was back.

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth."

"All I can do is assume Princess," he reached his hand out to your cheek, lightly caressing it. The way he said *Princess* was different this time. As if it weren't just a title.

You huffed, yet tried your best to pull yourself away from his touch, no matter how...nice? It felt.

"Listen," you looked down then back up. "I can sneak you out, that way your kingdom doesn't go ape shit and mine doesn't behead me. I mean worst case scenario, you go out the way you came."

Upon hearing this, Jisung smiled. A kind, soft, genuine smile. "a and you say you despise me."

" I'm getting you out my room, aren't I?" You crossed your arms. And without another argument, Jisung went towards the balcony and swung one leg over the other. He turned to look back at you.

"Don't I get a goodbye kiss?" He smirked, sticking his cheek out towards you.

"Not in your wildest dreams." You replied, and with that Jisung began to climb down the many stones that led up to your room, a quiet yet still audible "you're no fun" was heard before he disappeared entirely from view.

You shut the balcony doors and replayed over the events that had just happened. All the while, his scent filled your room. To any other person walking in it wouldn't have stood out to them. But to you? It was a pungent scent of brandy and Lunaris Roses, a smell that filled your nose and would continue to do so; no matter how many times you'd open a window or light a candle.

Damn Han.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

A/N:

This was so fun and exhausting to do! Sorry it's a bit short, but I wanted to get this out before I forgot, Plua its 4:39 a.m.! Love y'all!

-Wynter

Current Taglist!

@jisunglyricist

[stayminho]

Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

 The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding. 

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached]  ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks.  you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now! 

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you. 

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

 When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life. 

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends. 

But you knew. 

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up. 

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment. 

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice. 

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.” 

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him. 

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again. 

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes. 

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

 “Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite. 

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin. 

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time.  You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!” 

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one. 

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply. 

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile. 

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire. 

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak. 

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge. 

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat. 

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

[stayminho]

bang chan talks you through it

minho kisses your clit before eating you out

changbin lets you grind on his thigh

hyunjin holds your hand when you ride him

han cums as soon as he puts his tip in

felix steals your panties to jerk off to later

seungmin slaps your clit till you cry (or cum)

jeongin fucks your throat with his fingers

<33

[stayminho]

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 :)

[stayminho]

winter wind — lee minho.

trope. best friends to lovers. pining. minho is astronomically down bad.

synopsis. a look into lee minho’s realization that maybe he is eager for the affection of someone else featuring the menaces, seungmin and jisung

word count. 1.5k words

warnings. curse words and nothing else i think

note. this idea just suddenly came to me so please enjoy tsundere minho and this silly little fic

Lee Minho sighs out in relief when the pair of you finally make it to Chan’s apartment, immediately being greeted by a warmth in sharp contrast to the weather outside.

The winter wind was unforgiving, as it always is, nipping at Minho’s skin and harshly blowing a deep shade of red on his nose and cheeks. It’s a sight that elicits teasing from his friends, and he tries to shut them up right away before you can hear anything.

You’re still by the doorway, struggling to take off your winter boots. With the information that you’re out of earshot, verified by a quick glance your way, only heightens their teasing.

Heavy on Seungmin. He’s the only little fucker that isn’t easily intimidated by Minho’s infamous glare.

“You’re practically naked, hyung.” Minho wants to wipe the smirk off of his face so bad, but Seungmin isn’t technically wrong, only confirmed further upon double checking his appearance from the huge fucking mirror decorating Chan’s living room.

A sweatshirt and some pants — a pretty fucking terrible choice considering the temperature outside.

“It wasn’t that cold.” He dismisses.

His shivering hands and runny nose deeply contradict with his statement, and Seungmin all but laughs at how persistent Minho is at defending his case. Though, he is having an awful time trying to justify his friend’s clothing choice when he knows Minho usually walks to Chan’s place.

Lee Minho is far smarter than a sweatshirt and some pants.

Seungmin, and the rest of the boys, can only share glances in understanding when you come stumbling into the living room wearing almost all of Minho’s outerwear. His favorite puffer jacket is on you, engulfing your entire figure and that scarf sitting on your neck looks awfully like the one Hyunjin had gifted the boy a few birthdays ago.

So you’re the culprit as to why Minho’s quietly made his way to stand by Chan’s heater to catch a glimpse of his normal temperature.

“Coldcoldcoldcold—“ You pause your conversation with yourself when you see the boys all smiling at you in the living room. As if they know something yoh don’t.

“Hi.” You mumble, trying your best to show a smile as you puff out a breath of winter air. They greet you back right away with accompanied squeals and pinches in the cheeks.

The scarf looks adorable covering half your face, and Seungmin has to physically bite back his laughter when you raise your hand and Minho’s (too big for you) gloves greet them. His friend is horrendously in love with you, and it’s so obvious that Seungmin’s dumbfounded as to how you haven’t realized it yourself.

It doesn’t help that Minho is absolutely useless and won’t confess first — refuses to, even. It’s come to the point where Chan, always the one to tell the boys not to meddle, has practically begged the boy to confess.

The boys probably can’t count with all their hands combined the number of times they’ve told him to confess and he outright avoided the question.

Though, despite being the most straightforward in the group, it seems his feelings for you has made him turn a complete 180 (at least when it comes to the part of his brain reserved for romance). They can’t blame the boy though. It might as well be his first time experiencing the overwhelming tides of feelings and everything that comes with it.

Lee Minho has never been the type that was eager for the affection of someone else either. Among the eight boys, they’d say he was the one who didn’t really have the time for intimacy.

And then you came, in the form of the biggest contradiction to everything Minho had established about love.

Now, the poor boy is falling over, pupils dilated as he silently makes his way to stand by your side to ask you — in the softest tone the boys have ever heard from Minho — “you weren’t too cold from outside?”

There’s a faint smile on his face when you shake his head. And the scene playing in front of everyone would perfectly fit in one of the sitcoms they watch together when they’re bored from how fast Minho’s fond smile changes into a look of feign annoyance when he turns his attention to his other friends in conversation.

Perhaps they just aren’t lucky enough to look behind the scenes, to bear witness to his gentle voice and sweet smile and the way he (without a question) stripped himself off of his outwear as you tread against the white blanketed ground minutes earlier.

He simply shrugs his jacket off and slips it on you, dropping the scarf on your neck and tying it to make sure it’s secured on your neck. Quiet scoldings leave his lips as he does so, eyes focused on taking his own gloves off to put on your hands. If he was too much of a coward to hold your hand, he would have to sacrifice his gloves and bear the cold.

He’d take the harsh winter wind over a call in the morning telling him you’d caught a cold from the winter. Nevermind that there’s a higher chance he get sick instead.

The coming scratchy throat and runny nose are nothing compared to the grateful smile you had directed to him and the way you look clad in his clothes. He almost feels guilty for thinking he could get used to that sight, for hoping to be subjected to your beauty everyday for the rest of his life.

Almost. He was nothing if not a boy who was willing do anything just to see you in his clothes again.

Of course, he hides it well. He’s practiced enough from the months of his dawning realization to the present. So, he keeps the abundance of his teasing remarks high in hopes that they continue to work.

He tells you his hat is too big for you that it makes you look silly or how your height matches that of a 12 year old compared to him which is why his clothes are swallowing you whole. And he tells you that the red on his ears are definitely because of the sandpaper wind and not because of the warmth he felt when you hugged him — it shocks him to the point that he had to push you away and you almost fall on your butt because Lee Minho doesn’t think he can hold back the confession bubbling in his throat if you kept holding him like that.

“You seriously need to tell her.” Jisung is the one who breaks Minho out of his reverie.

The boy can’t just catch a break.

Minho had just settled on the couch, watching you intently as you laugh with Hyunjin at one of Seungmin’s jokes, when Jisung decides to add another tally to the number of times they have failed to get him to confess.

The unconscious grin from watching you laugh turns into a scowl as he directs his attention to Jisung.

“No.” He says pointedly. Han Jisung doesn’t need to clarify for Minho to know what he’s talking about.

“I don’t like her like that.” Minho adds as a weak attempt to get the boy to stop trying to meddle but he knows he isn’t being truthful. And he knows Jisung knows too.

“Sure you don’t.” Jisung snickers, playfully nudging the boy’s side. “We’re not blind, you know. We can see the way you look at her… and the way you’re looking for her right now.”

Minho’s heart thumps at being caught. He simply groans in response, begrudgingly grabbing the brownie in Jisung’s hand and shoving the remains down his mouth.

“She’s in the kitchen, by the way.“

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you were thinking it! You are soooo down bad that it’s actually kind of funny now.” Jisung giggles to himself. “You’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you? So stop being a pussy.”

Minho would’ve lunched his friend to the living room ground if not for your voice calling out his name from Chan’s kitchen. Han Jisung is saved another day from Minho’s wrath.

(He’ll thank you later.)

“Min?” He’s quick to give up, and he closes his eyes in surrender because Han fucking Jisung was right, he would do anything for you, and Minho can already hear the boy telling him he told him so.

Perhaps Lee Minho isn’t as immune to love as he thought he was. There’d have to be a new rebranding towards the part of his brain he had thought was repulsed by the idea of romance. Especially when you had introduced to him the feeling of beating hearts and sweaty hands.

So this is what love is. Now, he knows of the fondness he used to think he could only direct to his cats. He knows of the romance he used to laugh at when watching romantic comedies.

And maybe Lee Minho isn’t so opposed to the idea after all. Especially upon walking in to the kitchen and seeing you smile up at him with a new batch of brownies Felix had saved up for you (that you’d happily share with Minho).

Despite the cold, Lee Minho feels warm, and he looks at you like he does with the little things he loves — a small grin tugging on his lips and his eyes focused on you, diluted and relaxed. Genuine.

Perhaps there is time for intimacy, and perhaps he’d have to put an end to that tally and finally fucking confess.

(If he didn’t, the boys will have owed Seungmin a lot of money).

[stayminho]

stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)

moments they steal a kiss & where they do it

chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep

it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.

it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.

how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.

“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.

“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”

“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?

it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.

minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive

minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.

“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.

his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.

minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.

you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.

he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.

changbin. in the gym room against the lockers

“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”

changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.

it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.

when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.

“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.

the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.

hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies

he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.

you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.

hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.

when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.

jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away

can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.

he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.

and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.

jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.

you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.

felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen

in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.

who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?

he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.

and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.

though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.

seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library

“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.

seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.

you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.

it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.

it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.

his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.

you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.

when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.

jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class

jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.

today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.

he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.

similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?

“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.

the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.

“see you on your next break, babe.”

[stayminho]

Saw jockchan x nerd reader. I was wondering if you could write something about swim captain Chan x quiet female reader ?

pairing: SwimCaptain!Chan x Quiet!fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; semi-public sex ; secret relationship ; oral (f!rec) ; jealousy ; exhibitionism kink (but no exhibitionism) ; unprotected sex (be smarter, don’t do that).

w/c: around 1,8k

a/n: It’s 1:45 a.m. here, I’m going to sleep now. Hope you like it! ♡

18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There are 25 minutes left until the end of the training session when you arrive.

"Come see me at training today, it will bring me luck for tomorrow’s championship." This was his sweet request this afternoon, and you naturally said yes; it's just a pity that you arrived an hour late.

Your quick steps to take a seat in the stands can’t be heard by the guys as they talk near the pool, but Chan notices you the moment you enter.

His head turns in your direction and he smiles at you, waving a hand at you. You do the same, returning the greeting.

Immediately, his eyes shift to Changbin and Jisung though, members of the team, who seem to be arguing, and he approaches them.

It doesn’t take you long to understand that they were arguing about who is the fastest swimmer of the two, as shortly after they are giving each other challenging looks as they get into position and enter the water when Chan gives them the signal.

You like seeing him in leader mode in moments like this. It’s extremely hot, but also really cute when he turns in your direction to look at you, shaking his head in exasperation, making you giggle.

But your attention shifts a little further away from you when you hear a girl speaking.

"Did you see him? Now you can’t say he isn’t gorgeous." One of the two girls says to the other.

“He’s freaking perfect, oh my God,” the other girl comments. “What did you say his name was?”

“Bang Chan; I’ll give you his Instagram.”

Your teeth clench at the last sentence. Are they talking about Chan? Your Chan?

The same Chan who kisses, fucks, and cuddles you every day?

You briefly consider letting them know. You should turn to them and tell them to their faces, but there’s something holding you back, keeping you still. And this thing prohibits you from letting them know how things really are, so you sit there in silence, enduring their annoying compliments about him for what feels like endless minutes.

Yes, his body and muscles are stunning. Yes, his voice is sensual and his laugh is sweet. Yes, he has an irresistible gaze. Do they really need to keep repeating that?

When the training ends and you think you’ve finally gotten rid of them, they’re in front of him before you can make a move.

You watch them from afar, standing and waiting, trying to appear as normal and indifferent as possible while they congratulate the captain for his hard work as a leader. Ah, and also for his hard work in the gym.

He chuckles with his dimples showing, first shaking his hands in front of himself in a gesture of denial, but ending up scratching the back of his neck as he thanks them cordially. The two girls look at each other and giggle.

But a few minutes later, it’s you who finds yourself in the locker room with him, his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, feverish and needy.

“Were you jealous?” He grins teasingly, but deep down he feels immense tenderness and perhaps a little embarrassment knowing that you love him so much that you can’t stand other girls complimenting him in that way.

You don’t respond, looking at his bare chest and hoping he’ll stop.

His smile grows, “I saw how you were looking at them, your eyes were burning flames.” He stifles a chuckle as you raise your head with a guilty expression.

“Was I that obvious?” You ask, your cheeks starting to blush, embarrassed by your exaggerated reaction.

“Yes, but I like it.” He leans in to kiss you again, but soon his hands slip under your shirt and you break the kiss.

“Chan, we can’t do this here.” you whisper against his lips. All the other guys from the team are just meters away, taking a shower. You risk being heard, and you don’t want that to happen.

“But I need you now.” he whispers on your neck, starting to leave warm, wet kisses.

You don’t respond, but you tilt your head to give him more space and don’t stop him, and he takes this action as agreement.

He licks and sucks on a patch of your skin, leaving a red mark that will be prominently displayed for days. He might get completely hard just at the thought of you walking around with the mark of his presence on your body, even if others don’t know whose it is.

He pulls away and admires it, then gives it one final kiss, making you hiss from the slight pain.

Needy, his hand grabs yours and pulls you into the bathroom. You don’t resist; you follow him, silent, and together you enter one of the showers, closing the curtain. The one in the corner, with an empty shower next to it.

And then, Chan turns on the water, wetting both of you, although not completely.

“Chan, you finally came in, why did it take you so long?” Changbin yells from a few showers away.

“I just had a moment with Y/n.” Chan responds casually, as if he weren’t currently lowering your shorts and underwear at the same time.

“Oh, she’s already gone?” This time it’s Jisung’s voice.

“Yeah, she went back to the dorm.”

There’s something, something that arouses both of you at the idea that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing while his friends are there, just meters away from you, unaware.

His fingers move skilfully between your folds, rubbing your clit with one finger quickly while two of his other fingers hold your pussy lips open as your hips move back and forth instinctively.

When his fingers enter your cunt, they do so easily from how wet you are and from all the times his cock has been inside you.

You take his face in your hands to bring your lips closer to his ear so you can talk to him, “We don’t have time, put it in already.” You whisper, and his cock twitches in the tight shorts he’s wearing, reminding him of how damn tight they feel.

He withdraws his fingers and turns you around, replacing them with his dick, entering you slowly to allow you to more easily suppress any sounds that could be heard by the others.

His hands hold the lower parts of your cheeks to spread them apart to get in deeper as he moves inside you. It’s not the best position, but you can’t bend over because you’d risk slipping.

Your moans are silent. Your heavy breaths are fortunately hard to hear with the shower water running and their voices humming.

Chan tries not to fuck you too hard to avoid the sound of your skins slapping together. Because you’re not alone, and no one must hear you. Even though, maybe, he actually wants someone to hear you. He wants someone to find out about the dirty things you’re doing without their knowledge, right there near them. Maybe he secretly wishes someone would open the shower curtain and see you in this situation.

And maybe you want it too.

But these thoughts don’t stop both of you from freezing at the sudden sound of Hyunjin’s voice. “Does anyone have shower gel?”

His movements pause only for a moment. He should feel embarrassed, mortified to hear his friend’s voice so close to you in such a situation, but instead, it sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock, and he immediately starts moving again.

You look at him with an expression now fearful, but this arouses you as much as it does him.

Jeongin’s voice is quick to respond, “I do, here it is.”

“Thanks Jeonginnie, love you.” Hyunjin thanks him in his sweet voice.

Chan pulls out of you, but before you have time to say anything, he turns you around, grabs your thighs from behind, and lifts you, pushing you against the wall. His arms slide under your knees and spread you open, re-entering you.

“That’s better.” he whispers against your lips, and you nod in agreement with quick breaths.

The pleasure intensifies for both of you. A soft moan escapes his lips, not being able to hold it back, causing him to bite his lower lip and hide his face on your shoulder, his ears turning redder as he failed to contain his pleasure.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling strands, causing his hips to buck up in a harder thrust, making your head slide back against the shower tiles.

It’s at this moment that the others start coming out of the showers, and soon they are out of the locker room after greeting Chan and telling him to hurry up.

When everyone is out, you both look at each other, then chuckle.

“I couldn’t hold back anymore.” you admit.

“Me neither.” he says.

“I noticed.” you tease, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows in an offended look.

You clench around him on purpose, eliciting a needy moan from his lips. In response, he thrusts into you, and this time it’s you who whines.

“You’re as needy as I am.” he grins, resuming his movements. This time you’re a bit freer to let out your voice, but you need to hurry. His thrusts are faster now, reaching deeper spots inside you, being able to fuck you harder, eliciting a series of staccato moans from you.

“Touch yourself.” he orders and you immediately obey, without needing to be told twice.

His movements become more erratic. He’s close, and you can tell by the way his cock twitches inside you and releases small droplets of pre-cum.

His moans grow deeper, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold back from coming with all the self-control he has to make you reach your climax too, with him. But it’s difficult for him, and soon he has you back on your feet, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking his cock quickly through his orgasm.

He tries not to throw his head back in pleasure, wanting to see the ropes of his hot cum covering your pussy and thighs as you stand there with trembling legs.

Your mind is still fogged with pleasure, and you don’t notice what’s happening until you feel his tongue on your clit, which makes you let out a whimper. You look down to see your boyfriend on his knees with his head between your legs, looking up at you.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he pulls away, “You need to come quickly, someone will be coming for spot checks soon.” He warns you before returning with his tongue between your folds and two fingers inside you, stroking at your sensitive spot.

[stayminho]

JOCK!CHAN X NERD!FEM READER SMUT??🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

pairing: Jock!Chan x Nerd!Fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; breasts play ; clit play ; slight oral kink.

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: NO BC I actually love this idea sm 🙇🏻‍♀️ Hope you like it anon ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come over after practice?"

You adjust your glasses on your nose after sending the text and get up to change into your pajamas.

You don't expect an immediate response, but you're too bored because you have nothing to do and you can't wait for him to text back.

You receive a reply only two hours later.

"Of course, baby, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be with you."

Only half an hour passes before he's standing in front of the door of your dorm room, with dark curly hair still wet and dressed in his usual black pants and t-shirt.

Before you know it, his soft lips are on yours and without breaking apart, you usher him into the room and he closes the door.

"Your hair is still wet." you point out as if he didn't already know.

"I wanted to be with you as soon as possible." You blush slightly at his words.

"How was practice?" you ask him.

"Changbin missed all his shots today." he chuckles.

"He's too short for basketball, I've always said so." you laugh with him.

"What were you doing in the meantime?"

"I was reading a book Seungmin lent me."

That's why shortly after you're sitting on your bed with your boyfriend's head in your lap while you read aloud word after word.

His eyes are closed as he listens to your soothing voice, but at some point you stop and he opens his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks you, and when you don't answer, he raises an eyebrow and gently lowers the book with one hand to see your slightly flushed face.

The story is getting a bit... hot, "Uh... I'm not sure if I should continue..." you admit, and he immediately understands what it's about. A smirk forms on his lips as he gets up.

"No, keep reading, I want to know how it continues." He has you sit in the middle of the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his eyes on the book, without reading, "Then?"

"Uh... he- he started kissing her neck," his soft lips immediately press against the skin of your nape, leaving slow, wet kisses, "As his hands roamed all over her body." And so does he, releasing the embrace and moving his hands over your body still covered by the light pajama shirt, running his fingers over your belly and higher, grazing the outline of your breasts.

"You're not wearing a bra?" He whispers against your neck, his breath lightly tickling you.

"I'm more comfy without."

He groans almost imperceptibly, feeling your hardening nipples through the fabric of the shirt.

"Keep reading." he orders, and you do as he says.

You read quickly in your mind, trying to get to the parts where it only describes his actions. "His- his fingers play with her nipples, squeezing them between his fingers and—" you pause as a yelp escapes your lips when you feel his fingers brush against your nipples and then squeeze them in between.

Before you realise it, his strong arms lift you from where you're sitting on the bed. One arm goes under your legs, while the other holds the upper part of your body, picking you up bridal style, and gently lays you with your head on the pillow.

Sometimes you still marvel at how truly strong he is.

He then positions himself between your legs. He lifts your shirt to uncover your breasts and plays with your nipples, pinching and licking them.

"Then?" His voice is low and sensual, causing a throbbing sensation in your lower parts, where his covered cock brushes against you through his pants.

"His- his hand travels down her body—" the movement of his hand sends shivers through your body. He swiftly removes your pajama shorts, and kisses various spots on your leg as he moves up to place his head at your level, locking eyes with you.

One of his hands takes the book from your hands while the other slips under your panties, feeling your wetness with his middle and ring fingers. A gasp escapes your lips before you can control it.

"You're so wet already.” he breathes on your lips, feeling all the slick that has come out of your hole. He gathers some of your juices and uses it to glide his fingers in slow circular motions on your clit, making you sigh. "This pretty pussy's begging for attention, mhh?”

He moans with you as his fingers slide into your hole. He moves them back and forth slowly, curling them upwards to brush against that sensitive spot inside you.

His breath is heavy as yours and his pants feel tight.

His thumb rests on your clit and moves as best he can to stimulate you more.

Your faces are so close. He looks into your eyes and can't resist the urge to kiss you. It's slow and sensual, your tongues meeting and your breaths mingling.

When you break apart, a trail of saliva connects your lips. Your boyfriend removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Your panties are soon on the floor next to your pants, and your shirt follows shortly after.

"You're so gorgeous." he compliments as he admires your exposed body beneath him.

It's not the first time he's looked at your naked body, but his gaze feels heavy on you.

He notices your embarrassment and leans in on you. "I can't wait to be inside you." he whispers in your ear.

"Then don't." you urge him.

And a few seconds later, his cock is inside your tight heat, making both of you moan in unison.

Soon he begins to move. You need more time to get used to the intrusion, but the desperation of both has taken over.

Despite it not being the first time, the stretch still hurts initially. But it only takes a few slow initial thrusts for you to get used to it.

His pace quickens and becomes more steady, and one of his hands has to cover your mouth to stifle your sounds.

Your moans come out muffled against his palm, and he closes his eyes, biting back a moan, "As much as I love hearing you, we don't want to get caught, now do we?" he whispers. You nod, and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You grit your teeth and throw your head back into the pillows —as much as you can without hurting yourself because of the ponytail— trying to be as quiet as possible, but it's difficult.

Your glasses are askew on your face, and just one wrong move would be enough to cause problems for them. That's why Chan carefully takes them off and places them on the nightstand next to the bed.

It's when his cock hits a certain sensitive spot inside you hard that a cry escapes your lips, and you're too taken by surprise to hold it back.

Two fingers are shoved into your mouth to try to stifle the sounds trying to come out, "You did that on purpose so I would put my fingers in your mouth, huh? You like being fucked like this, don't you?" he whispers in your ear, licking and sucking on the lobe.

Your tongue moves upward, wanting to speak, pressing against his fingers. At your movement, he throws his head back, letting out a pitiful moan; his hips falter for a second, and his cock twitches inside you.

You close your lips around his fingers and nod instead, unable to speak.

"You feel so damn good." His head rests in the crook of your neck. "Fuck." He breathes.

The sound of skins slapping together grows louder in the room. A drop of sweat falls from his forehead, and his hands grip the sheets tightly at the sides of your head.

"Baby, I'm close." He whines, warning you.

Your legs tremble, your limbs feel like jelly.

"Me too." You reply, "Chris, please."

He brings two of his fingers to your clit, moving them quickly, but the movements are not steady, distracted by his impending climax.

"Y/n, I'm going to cum—" he urgently moans, "You have to come now." It's an order, despite the slight desperation in his voice, like you could control your orgasm.

You place your fingers over his that are still on your clit and move them together.

Your breaths are heavy and loud. Anyone passing by your room would understand what you're doing, but in the heat of the moment you don't give it much weight. The only thing on your minds is reaching your highs.

And you do; you come first and he follows right after. His well-defined muscles, built from the gym he attends with his friends, twitch gorgeously as he cums into the condom.

It takes a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath. He pulls out of you and tosses the condom into the trash bin at the end of your bed.

He joins you again in bed and looks at you, perhaps a little embarrassed, "It won’t go down..." he admits, referring to his still somehow hard dick.

You prop your body up on your elbows. Your eyes shift to look at his half-erection and then back to his eyes, with a smirk.

"Round two?"

[stayminho]

Day Four: Jisung - Part Two

Pairing: Jisung x Reader

Warning: A little frolicking.. mostly smut. Smuuuut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ.]

Word Count: 1k

Previous Chapters: Here

“This was such a good idea.” Your best friend, Han laughs as the two of you frolic through the water on a small island you had found not terribly far from the main beach. Getting time together with Han and no screaming fans, no paparazzi was seemingly impossible. The two of you wanted to hangout with no pressure, where you could be yourselves.

So when you suggested to Han you two paddle out to this island on a little boat, he was all for it. You ran around in your bikini and Han in his swim trunks. You played games, took your own pictures and spent the day laughing until the two of you heard the familiar screams of fans who thought they had spotted him. The two of you panic, running up the beach, grabbing your phones and the boat only.

“Lay down.” You urge. “They won't be able to see you and it'll look like it's just me paddling.”

Han quickly lays down in the boat before you get in. You hadn't noticed where you were straddling him, you were too preoccupied with trying to get the two of you out of there. You were facing away from him, your ass sitting on his lower stomach while your pussy was right on top of his cock. You paddle as hard and fast as you can to get away, you can hear the girls yelling, asking where he was. “I only see a girl?? Where's Han?” They say to each other, clearly annoyed.

As you paddle, you hit waves making you bounce slightly on top of Han. You can't see him, but he's biting his lip and covering his face to keep himself from moaning. He was doing everything he possibly could to not get hard right now, but the way you were bouncing on him felt so fucking good, and he was losing this battle.

“Hannie.” You say. You can feel his cock harder underneath you. “Are you getting hard?” You giggle.

“Well fuck, Y/N, What else did you think was gonna happen when your rubbing yourself all over me.” He says.

“It's not my fault there's waves in the ocean.” You laugh.

“You could have sat anywhere else.” He scoffs.

“Like on your face?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. His eyes go wide as he stares at your smiling face.

“Do you wanna sit on my face?” He asks with a smile.

“I'd love to.” You tell him. “But right now, on this boat, we'd probably sink.” You say.

“You're right. But fuck now I'm even hornier.” He sighs. “You keep bouncing like that, I'm gonna have to stick my cock in you.” He moans. You keep your head turned, looking at him as you start grinding on him. Slowly dragging your clothed pussy over his semi hard dick.

“Why are you teasing me?” He sighs. “This is fucking torture.” You scoot yourself up slightly onto his stomach more before pulling his trunks down, letting his cock spring free.

“Mhmmm, thick.” You say.

“What are you doing?” He breathes. Your clit begins to throb at the sight of his cock. God, you just wanted him to ram it so far down your throat you choked on it, over and over again.

“I'm relieving you of your uncomfortableness.” You tell him. You get onto your knees, moving your bikini bottoms to the side before spitting in your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slowly.

“Oh fuck.” He groans. “I'm so tired of my own hand.”

You chuckle as you move back down, hovering over him until you sit down, his cock stretching you out unlike you've ever had before. “Oh my god.” You gasp as you fully sit down on him.

“You feel so fucking good.. shit.” He gasps. You slowly start rocking your hips, the waves making you bounce so much, you barely need to do anything. You reach your hand between your lips, rubbing your clit as you ride his cock.

“Are you rubbing your clit?” He groans.

“Yes.” You pant. Between his cock making you feel so fucking full and your clit being rubbed, you weren't sure how long you were going to last.

“So fucking hot. Rub your clit until you cum, I want your cum dripping down my fucking cock.” He groans, gripping your ass, pushing you up before slamming you back down on his cock.

“Fuck.” You pant, bouncing harder on top of him. The teasing you had done earlier has already made you so fucking wet.

“Your cunt is fucking dripping.” He groans as he thrusts up, ramming his cock deeper inside of you. “Say my name.” He grunts.

‘Han.. fuck.” You cry out.

“Cum baby, cum all over my dick.” He spits. Ramming into you even harder. That was it. That was all you needed to cum, your orgasm spasming through your body. “That's it, fucking shit, clench again.” He groans.

You clench your drenched pussy around him again and again. He cries out, thrusting as hard as he possibly can, while being in a little paddle boat.

“God, I'm gonna cum.” He gasps.

“Cum in my pussy.” You moan, grabbing your tits.

“That's so fucking hot.” He moans as he cums hard, deep inside you. “Oh my.. christ.” He pants. Riding through his orgasm.

“Pl..please stop clenching. It hurts.” He half laughs, half whimpers.

“I'm sorry, we're stuck like this until we get back to shore.” You giggle. “Maybe I can make you cum again, I'm sure I will.”

“Next time, I will not eat your pussy. And I've got an immaculate tongue game.” He groans.

“Oh, so you think this is going to happen again?” You laugh.

“Oh it absolutely fucking will. And you're gonna be in for a hell of a night if you don't get off my cock now.” He whines.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha got planned?” You ask, bouncing a little more.

“When we get back to the dorms, I'm going to either overstimulate you so fucking hard, or deny your orgasms all fucking night.” He spits.

“Ooh, that sounds fun. Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask.

“It's a threat and a promise.” He groans.

[stayminho]

pov you're taylor swift's debut album looking at her eras tour setlist

[stayminho]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗

𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎

𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢- 𝙹𝚈𝙿 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎.

𝚃𝚆: 𝙹𝚈𝙿 (𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢), 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘. 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.6𝚔

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ~ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘

"...But, Dad! Mia and Kat are going backpacking in Australia! We've planned everything down to the last detail. This is my final summer of freedom before I have to face the real world and do something with my degree. Please, please let me go with them!"

You could feel the desperation rising within you, fighting to keep your voice steady and your dignity intact. If you weren't holding on so tightly to the last of your composure, you'd drop to your knees, hands clasped, pleading with every ounce of your being for your dad to relent. You had been saving up all year for this trip, meticulously planning it with your friends. This was supposed to be your ultimate adventure, your last carefree summer before the corporate grind pulled you into its relentless grasp.

"I promised your uncle you'd intern with him this summer," your dad countered, exasperation evident in his tone. "Do you know how many people would kill for this opportunity?"

He wasn't wrong. An internship at JYPE was a golden ticket, especially for someone passionate about K-Pop. Your dream of producing and writing music made this opportunity seem perfect. But being the niece of someone as prominent as JY Park had dulled the allure. To you, it was a business, not the glamorous world others saw. Numbers, idols, money – that was the reality.

"I don’t want to produce K-Pop," you argued, trying not to sound bad-tempered. "I want to forge my path, create my music, not get trapped in a massive conglomerate that treats its idols poorly." You had barely interacted with your uncle, only seeing him a handful of times during holidays, but his media persona had shaped your opinion.

"You’re staying with your Uncle Park, Y/N. End of discussion." Your father's tone was final, the conversation over before it began.

You had argued relentlessly for the past couple of months, but now here you were, on a plane—and it wasn't headed for Australia as you had hoped. Instead, you were in business class on a direct flight to Seoul, Korea. Bitterness towards your uncle simmered within you, but even you had to admit, business class was a pretty persuasive gesture.

You didn’t grow up wealthy like your uncle's side of the family. You worked hard, enduring stupidly long hours while studying, watching your cousins flaunt their carefree lifestyles on social media, oblivious to the meaning of hard work. It was infuriating. Your disdain for idols might have stemmed from this stark contrast or perhaps the knowledge that while idols worked incredibly hard to get where they were, many acted entitled and aloof. None had ever been pleasant to you—at least, not until they learned who your uncle was. Then, suddenly, you were the most fascinating person in the room. The hypocrisy was maddening.

As the plane soared through the sky, you couldn't help but reflect on the irony of it all. Your friends were probably already packing for their grand adventure in Australia while you were whisked away to a world you wanted no part of. This internship at JYPE was supposed to be a dream opportunity, but it felt like a gilded cage to you. Your uncle and his family represented everything you despised: privilege without effort, glamour without substance.

Either way, with headphones in and complimentary champagne, you might as well embrace this life while no one is watching.

Landing in Korea for the first time since you were little felt surreal. As you navigated the bustling airport, dragging your suitcases behind you, you scanned the sea of drivers holding signs. It wasn’t long before you spotted a tall man in a cap and a JYPE-branded suit holding a sign with your name in both English and Hangul. If anything could cause a scene, it was this. You pulled your cap lower over your eyes, praying no one would cause a scene at the sight of a JYPE driver.

The driver kindly loaded your bags into the back of the car, and you awkwardly thanked him with your limited Korean before climbing into the back seat.

"Your uncle has asked me to bring you to the building," the driver informed you as he started the car. Of course, your uncle would put you straight to work. There was no escape from this.

You pulled your phone out of your handbag, quickly texted your dad that you had landed safely, and checked in on Mia and Kat. They were just boarding their flight to Australia, and a wave of jealousy washed over you. They were thrilled for you; an opportunity like this was a dream for them. You had even begged them to switch places with you and let you have the carefree summer you deserved. But they had politely declined, eager for their adventure backpacking across Australia. Not that you could blame them.

As the car navigated through the busy streets of Seoul, you couldn't help but feel excitement and dread. The city was vibrant and full of life, contrasting your conflicted emotions. This summer was supposed to be about freedom and adventure, not corporate internships and family obligations. Yet, here you were, heading straight into the heart of the world you had been trying to avoid.

“There’s my niece!” your uncle greeted you with a booming voice as you walked into his office on the top floor of the extravagantly modern building.

“Uncle,” you replied with a polite smile, masking your true feelings. “It looks like things have really stepped up since I last visited.” You glanced around the expansive office, the floor-to-ceiling glass offering a stunning view of Seoul.

“I’m going up in the world,” he gloated, his self-satisfaction palpable. “All of this could be yours one day, Y/N. That degree could be useful in a place like this.” You scoffed internally as if he’d offer you the company over his children.

“A dream, I’m sure,” you retorted, sarcasm lacing your words. Your uncle, too absorbed in his monologue, didn’t seem to notice.

“You’ll meet the production team today during your tour, and then I’m gathering a few idols this evening for a party at one of the local clubs. It’s a great way for you to mingle with your new colleagues…” He continued enthusiastically. The thought of mingling was bad enough, but a club full of idols? Your worst nightmare.

“Respectfully, Uncle, I’ve just been on a long-haul flight, and I have no idea where my accommodation is. I need a shower. Do I really need to attend a party full of… idols? I’d be happy to skip it.” You kept your tone as disinterested as possible, hoping he wouldn’t push further.

“No way! You’re not missing a party like this! It’s one of my specialities, and I planned it specifically for after your arrival so you could attend. If you’re going to experience the idol lifestyle, you might as well do it in style.” He flared his hands dramatically as if trying to add flair to the ordeal he was dragging you into.

“Uncle, I’m not becoming an idol. I’m here for music production. That’s my passion,” you stated firmly.

“Well, look at 3racha. They do both,” he countered, and you couldn’t help but groan in response.

Stray Kids. The latest group to be moulded under your uncle's strict regime. When you first heard of 3racha, you were impressed—three young guys producing their own music, carving their own path. It was a refreshing change from the other groups that came and went through your uncle’s company. But it wasn’t long before they were assimilated, transformed into a group of eight, adopting the idol mindset. It was disheartening, really.

“Either way, they’ll be there tonight,” Your uncle continued his speech. “You could learn a lot from 3racha; try and mingle with them.” There it was, the mingle word again. It made your skin crawl. Before you could retort, your uncle was at the office's door, motioning you to follow him to tour the rest of the company building. 

Arriving at your accommodation, you had a moment to reflect. Despite your disdain for the company, you couldn’t deny the impressive level of their equipment. The studios were filled with gear you had only read about in coursework books. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to get your hands on it. That was a task for Monday. For now, your primary focus was fighting off jet lag and preparing for this ridiculous party. You figured you could show your face for an hour and wait for your uncle to get so absorbed in himself that he wouldn't notice you slipping out.

What do you even wear to an event like this? You could already guess that the idols would be dressed in high-end brands that would take years to afford. You opened your suitcases, pulling out garment after garment, searching for anything suitable. Nothing. Despite having a rich and famous uncle, he hadn’t even splurged on an outfit for you? You’d have to deal with that after a shower. Feeling grimy after the long flight, you only wanted to feel the warm water washing away the travel fatigue.

After a blissful shower, you stepped out, threw on your robe, and began towel-drying your hair. A knock at the door startled you, and you hurried to open it.

“A delivery from Mr. Park,” the voice announced from the other side. You opened the door slowly to find the suited man from earlier handing you a black garment bag with a zip-up front. He bowed and walked away silently. You shut the door, staring at the bag in confusion. Maybe your uncle did get you a dress?

You rushed to the bedroom, hanging the bag on the wardrobe and unzipping it slowly, praying the outfit wasn’t hideous. To your surprise, the bag contained a beautiful floor-length black dress with an elegant tie at the back. It looked and felt too expensive for your body, but if you were going to embrace the night “like an idol,” you might as well do it on your uncle's dime.

Dressed to impress, you took a final look in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, accentuating your figure with a sophisticated flair. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, at least you’d look the part.

As expected, the venue was massive and overflowing with the Korean elite. Idols, producers, brands, and executives mingled inside, outside, and everywhere in between. The kind driver from earlier had dropped you off, and you headed into the venue, presenting your invite to the lady at the entrance. Stepping inside was overwhelming; the language barrier was one thing, but the sheer number of people was another. You reminded yourself that this was for your career; you'd need to navigate situations like this in the future. This was just practice.

You felt the weight of countless eyes on you, the unfamiliar girl walking through a sea of people who seemed to know each other well. You searched for your uncle but couldn't find him. He was likely caught up with some business person trying to secure more cash. The bar seemed like a safe haven, so you headed over and ordered a drink from the open bar. Free drinks? It could get messy.

Taking in the sights around you, you were reminded of how much you truly hated idol culture. Everyone acted like they were better than each other, obsessed with who would debut first or sell more albums. Whatever happened to the passion for just creating music? You sighed, sipping your drink and checking your watch—had it been an hour yet?

“Not really all they're made out to be?” A voice spoke from behind you. English? An Australian accent?

“Only thirty minutes before I can make my escape,” you responded without turning around.

“A free bar, and you want to leave?” The man chuckled. “That’s not very trainee behavior of you.” He scoffed. You turned to face him with a confused look. He looked oddly familiar, definitely one of your uncle's idols.

“Me? A trainee? Try again,” you scoffed back. “As if I would ever put myself in a situation like that.” You rolled your eyes, returning to your drink.

“Ouch,” the man said, faking as if a bullet had hit him in the chest. “No offense taken.” He laughed it off. “If you’re not a trainee, what are you doing in a place like this?”

“I’m interning for my…” You caught yourself not wanting to reveal your relation to JYP. “Interning for the production department,” you finished, forcing a smile onto your face.

“A foreigner interning in production? Interesting.” The man’s tone was questioning. “You must be talented to beat the competition over here.” He nudged you. Why was he being so nice?

“I think I have talent,” you confessed. “K-Pop wouldn’t be my first choice, but it's a start.” You shrugged.

“We’ll probably be seeing more of each other then… what was your name?” he asked, hand outstretched.

“Y/N.” You couldn’t help but smile; he seemed nice. He didn’t have the self-centred air of an idol. He must work in the production studio.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Chris,” he said with a warm smile.

Chris. A nice, average Australian guy you’d be working with in production. Maybe this internship wouldn’t be too bad after all.

You spent the rest of the night with Chris, discussing production techniques and your mutual love for creating music. It was refreshing to talk to someone who shared your passion and seemed to have actual experience in the field. Hours passed, and you still hadn’t seen your uncle—a lucky escape, it seemed, now that you were flying under the radar.

As the evening wore on, you decided not to push your luck. You quickly exchanged numbers with your new coworker, feeling proud to have avoided all the idols and their inevitable drama. With a sense of accomplishment, you made your way to the exit and headed for the taxi rank.

Climbing into the cab's back seat, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. The night had turned out much better than expected. Chris was a promising connection, someone who understood the industry from the ground up, and you were excited to start working with him.

Chris: ‘It was nice to speak to you tonight. I’ll see you on Monday! 🙂’

You locked your phone, smiling at the message. It might be a hot girl summer, after all.

It was a rush getting up and ready for work on Monday. The only things propelling you out of bed were the excitement of playing with top-notch equipment and the possibility of seeing Chris. You’d been texting on and off all weekend, exchanging production tips and the odd flirty message. Having a friend in such a big city was a comfort, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive.

You hurried to your uncle’s office, breathless, as you adjusted your outfit and stepped through the doors.

“Sorry I’m late, Uncle… jetlag,” you tried to explain between breaths.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re here!” he called you over to the seating area in the corner of the room. “I brought up some people I’d like you to meet,” he said as you walked over.

“Y/N, this is 3RACHA: Han Jinsung, Seo Changbin, and Bang Chan. Guys, this is my niece, Y/N,” your uncle introduced you.

Your face dropped as you locked eyes with Bang Chan. Well, Chris.

“Bang Chan?”

“Niece!?”

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌! 𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

[stayminho]

pulsewidth (nsfw!)

zoro x fem!reader

masterlist kofi

cw: scent kinks, pussy eating, piv sex on a weight bench idk

an: well, here you go. take my post workout brainrot in fic form. pls ignore any formatting issues i phoneposted this

wc: 1.9k

tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @nina-ya @strawheart-pirate @missmugiwara @sanjisjuul @kibblz-n-bitz @sleepymarimo

You don’t join Zoro for most of his time spent training, but do occasionally bid yourself into the Crow’s Nest to quietly work out alongside him – though far enough away to avoid being the victim of a rogue blade to the gut should you accidentally get too close.

You hum to yourself, generally content in your usual routine that’s become so normal that your mind begins to wander from the monotony of your motions. Even the sounds of Zoro’s blades slashing into a dummy across the room begin to fade into the background and merge with the rhythmic, low rumble of the room’s atmosphere.

Though you're ripped from both your focus and the calm when your ears perk at the sound of your name. You pause your workout, body turning to face Zoro with arms still extended – though your scowl of concentration melts into a relaxed smile as you look at him curiously.

“Do me a favor?” he says, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand once he's sure he has your attention. “D’ya think you could try and dodge some swings?” Zoro asks, motioning to the blades in his hands. "Y'know, kinda like a moving target?"

“Only if you promise not to hurt me!” you tease with a wag of your finger, knowing full well the swordsman would never lay a harmful finger on you.

Zoro rolls his eyes and waves you over again. "I'll try my best to keep 'em to myself," he replies, his gaze glinting with amusement. He shifts his stance, golden earrings clinking together and catching a twinkle in the sunlight – and with two swords at his sides and held at the ready, even the air around him seems to crack with a fierce energy.

"When you're ready," he calls out, waiting for you to position yourself.

You know full well that Zoro's a formidable foe but you’re no slouch in the fighting department either. You circle around him, matching his pace, your own muscles tense and ready.

Zoro makes the first move, his swords slashing out in a blur, the dull edges aimed for your torso. You duck under the first strike just in time, but fail to avoid the second and third. His eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory grin as his swords whistle through the air, just brushing past your body.

"Nice dodge," he compliments, spurred on by the challenge you present. He switches tactics, the blades now spinning towards your legs, seeking to knock you off balance. "You move quick."

Sweat runs down your brow, mingling with the salt from your skin as you work to keep up with the swordsman. The air grows thick with the heat of the spar, both bodies dancing in a duet of dodges, near misses, and – when you can't quite keep up with his movements – sharp jabs to your ribs with the dull edge of one of his blades.

The sweat-slicked floor threatens to throw off your footing when you try to dodge a particularly quick swing to the thigh – and it ultimately succeeds in doing so following an unbalanced duck that causes you to slide forward. You spread your arms in a feeble attempt to stay upright, but land face-first into Zoro's bare chest.

Zoro's heart skips a beat as your body collides with his, the wet heat of your skin and the scent of your sweat invading his senses. His swords clatter to the floor, the blades falling from lax fingers as he reaches out to steady you, his hands gripping your waist to keep you from sliding off.

"Not bad," he grunts, the warmth of his body radiating against your own. He loosens his grip, allowing you to stand, but he keeps his hands on your waist, his gaze locked onto yours. "You're improving."

His muscles tense, the urge to wrap you in an embrace almost too strong to resist. Zoro's thumbs brush against the curves of your hips, his grip tight enough to keep you steady, but gentle enough to hint at a desire to explore more.

For a moment, time seems to freeze, and the only thing you can hear is the rapid thump of your heartbeat in your ears. Zoro pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue flicks against yours, demanding entry as his hands begin to roam, one sliding under your shirt, the other gripping your ass.

Zoro groans, his hand pushing your shirt up to reveal more of your skin. His fingers trail along your sides, lingering over your hip bone and the curve of your waist, the roughness of his skin contrasting with the smoothness of yours.

Your body responds to his, the heat between you intensifying, the air charged with the potency of desire. Zoro's mouth travels down the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake. He guides you to the weight bench, easing you on it gently – but with the determination of a man who knows what he wants.

His eyes roam over your body, drinking in the sight of your curves, the smoothness of your skin, and the dewy tinge of your breasts. His hands roam to trace their outline, thumb circling your nipples, his touch firm yet gentle.

Zoro’s mouth closes over one of your hardened peaks, sucking gently while his hand cups the other. You arch your back, offering yourself to him, your breath hitching as pleasure begins to spiral throughout your body.

You gasp out his name, fingers finding the length of his toned back as his heavenly ministrations continue. Your body trembles under his touch, each sensation a path to the aching core between your legs.

He releases you with a soft pop before trailing kisses down your body, his gaze never leaving yours. As he reaches the waistband of your shorts, your breathing grows more erratic, the anticipation of what's to come nearly unbearable.

Zoro watches as your eyes flutter shut, the motions of his mouth and hands eliciting soft moans from you. He hooks his thumbs under your shorts and – with the aid of your hips and thighs raising upward – slides them down your thighs.

He spreads your legs wide, his fingers trailing between them and teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring as he takes in the heady scent of your arousal, His finger slips under your panties and pulls them aside before sliding you down the bench and closer to his mouth. Large hands settle on your hips as he buries his face between your legs, his tongue tasting your folds in long strokes.

Zoro takes hold of one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder to give him better access to your core. He grins against your skin, his lips brushing against the sensitive flesh, his breath warm and heavy. "So sweet," his lust-drenched voice growls into your ear.

Zoro's tongue flickers against you, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. His fingers graze over your entrance, and in an instant he fills you with two large fingers, making you gasp out in pleasure.

Zoro's tongue circles your clit while his fingers plunge in and out, the rhythm quick and deliberate, each curl that brushes up against the sweet spot inside of you. His gaze fix on your face, watching the expressions flicker across it, drinking in the sight of your pleasure – and with a final, skilled flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, you cry out in bliss, your body convulsing as pleasure claims you, overwhelming your senses in a glorious wave of delirium.

Zoro continues to worship you, lapping up your essence until your body calms and your breathing returns to normal. He slips from between your legs, and he rises, his eyes dark with lust. "Fuck," he mutters, adjusting himself to hurriedly tug his pants down, releasing his thick, precum-beaded cock to the hot air of the nest.

"Hold onto me," he says as his grip takes hold of the backs of your thighs. It's a suggestion, but it's the only warning you'll get. He positions himself at your entrance, cock nudging against you. And with a firm but controlled motion, he pushes into you, stretching you wide and filling you full. His lips find yours once more, his tongue invading your mouth with the same ferocity he uses to claim your body.

Zoro groans into your throat, the sound rumbling through your body as he begins to thrust, his hips moving in a steady, driving rhythm. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place tightly while his cock slides in and out with wet, satisfying slaps.

The rocking of his hips becomes more insistent, his movements growing more urgent, his cock hitting all the right spots to keep you on the edge of ecstasy. His breath grows harsher, the beat of his heart pounding against your chest, your bodies moving in harmony.

Zoro's hand slides between the two of you, thumb finding your clit to rub in circles, the motion in perfect sync with his thrusts. The building heat within you flares, the edge of another orgasm sprawling at your senses.

His movements grow more erratic, his thrusts more desperate and fierce, his grip on your waist tightening, his free hand working your clit with a skill that borders on obsessive.

"Zoro!" you gasp out, your body tensing as the pleasure spirals out of control. His name is a plea, a demand, for him to keep going, to not stop, to let you reach that peak.

He exhales sharply as he feels you tighten around him, the slick, wet heat of your sex milking his cock. "Already?" he muses as if he isn’t about to burst as well. His thrusts grow more frenzied, the look in his eyes a mix of lust and possessiveness.

With no time to consider a reply, your orgasm crashes over you – body shuddering and pussy clenching hard around him. Zoro growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. With one last, hard plunge, he lets out a guttural cry, his cock pulsating as he fills you with his seed.

He collapses onto you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his lips brushing against your neck, his voice a ragged whisper. "Damn, girl," he mutters, the sharp edge of his tone helping to snap you back into reality.

"What do you mean 'damn, girl'?" You retort with a faux whine and a playful hit to his shoulder. "That was all you, I just went along with it."

"Well, you're a distraction," He chides with a smirk, coiling his arms around you before rolling you atop him. Zoro holds you to him closely, his cheek nestling down into your hair.

You grin, nestling against the warmth of Zoro's chest, the weight of his arm around you a comforting anchor. “Yeah, well, things happen," you reply with an impish grin of your own while your fingers begin trailing up and down the sides of his torso.

Zoro's arm tightens, his fingers linking with yours as you trail them along his skin. "I'm not complainin'," he murmurs, smiling into you.

The two of you lie there, breath in tandem and slowing from exertion. The rise and fall of his chest threatens to lull you into slumber, and you almost let it do so – though you think better of it due to the awkward position that someone else may find the two of you in.

"Take a bath with me, stinky," You say, tilting your chin up to him. "C'mon."

Zoro chuckles at your quip, the sound gentle and amused, before giving a playful nudge to your side. "Alright, stinky.” He says, lifting you up and off of him. “Lead the way."

[stayminho]

"I'd Give Anything" - [S.C.]

Day 3 of '8 Days of Kinks' : Coming Untouched

Pairing : Sub?Seo Changbin x Gender Not Mentioned!Reader

Genre : Pure Smut (MDNI)

Warnings : Coming untouched, Binnie body worship, not a lot of dialogue because it's soft and sensual sex, studio sex (aka semi-public)

8 Days of Kinks : Day Three - Changbin + Coming Untouched

Notes : Day three! Probably (easily) my fav I've written thus far.

Word Count : 2K

@daisykihannie Day 3: Here

"We're in a space where any of the guys could walk in. You do realize that, right?"

"You're the one who decided to come here right after working out - And you invited me along. You expected me not to be all over you?" Your lips detach from the expanse of Changbin's throat, slick and sticky with a light sheen of sweat from his previous workout. He'd just come from the gym and sat now on the studio couch in a black t-shirt that hugged his form a little too well and a pair of loose jeans he'd thrown on while escaping the gym.

Letting your eyes slowly lift to peer up at the man you were leaning into, you found that his gaze had already settled down upon yours. Eyes dark like endless pools of lust with a hint of faux annoyance he stares through his lashes and into your own, lids fluttering when he feels your hand rub over his chest. Changbin feels his body stiffen when your thumb catches on his nipple, stucking there for just a split second before flicking away to make him shudder.

His body reacts on it's own, chest slowly raising under your hands when they smooth back over the fabric of his shirt and feel just how flush to his warmed skin it is - flush to the muscle and fat beneath, hiding everything you wanted from sight. His lashes flutter until his eyes slip closed when he feels you do it again, thumb stopping to circle around his nipple from over his shirt and again, make him shudder. His tenses under your touch before relaxing once more, posture too straight for your liking. If you had it your way he'd be leaning back and melting into that poor studio couch until he was a puddle of bliss.

"Feels good?" You coo, keeping your eyes on your fiance's face and voice just barely above a whisper. The atmosphere is warm, incredibly so, the heat of your bodies intermixing between your chest and abdomens until it grows so intense it feels as though it could cause friction on it's own. But alas, there's nothing there besides your gentle touch on his chest, one hand working to tease over his pecs while the other slides down to gently grasp at his waist.

Changbin hums, unable to form coherent words when you're spoiling him like this in appreciation. This is how it goes, on the rare occasion the two of you aren't fucking like bunny rabbits in the back of the company SUV - Or the gym - Or the dorm - Or the soundbooth; He'll sit stiff at first as if he's unsure on whether or not he should allow himself to accept the attention you focus on him until he grows too weak to deny it and begins to soften under the qualm of your touch.

With his reassurance and face slowly relaxing, his lips begin to fall from their tight-lined position. He's beginning to melt, a soft frown-like feature taking over the plump pink lips you cherish with your entire being; Lips you would never stop kissing if it were possible in this life. And though it appears to be a frown, he is far from discontent - In fact he's almost painfully hard in his jeans, cock straining against the inside of his boxers and the rough ridges of the zipper that keeps you from reaching right in to palm over his length.

"You're so pretty," Your voice comes out in nothing but a murmur, lulling with admiration for the man pooling beneath you. "I'd give anything to have you see yourself the way I see you, Bin."

You'd sat down beside him only ten minutes ago and immediately laid your hand on his thigh, rubbing over the denim with a careful touch as the two of you talked about how his gym session went with Chris. It quickly, obviously, turned into you leaning just a bit closer until your hands were running up his body and he was sitting stiff - which lead to your current position, him slowly relaxing against you and letting you lean into him with ease. He was more than strong enough to support his own weight and yours like this, letting you hold onto him and drape yourself over him to shower him - and his body - in all of the affection you stored within your heart for him. Which, you had to admit, was a lot.

"Let's get this off of you, sweetheart." Your hands slip down his sides with a gentle brush over the fabric of his shirt, fingers curling into the hem to lift it off of his body. Changbin complies and lifts his arms, tipping his head to the side to let it slip off of him easier - And you get the most wonderful view of your man like this, the shirt clinging to his body as it peels away from his skin and causes his hair to grow fluffed and frizzy when it snaps away from his jaw and ears. You drop it to the floor near your foot and let yourself indulge once more in the man before you, hands back on him.

Back on him, but better this time; Sliding slowly over the weight of his sides, the plush of the tummy you'd loved for as long as you'd known him and brushing around to his back to feel over the muscle that held him sitting upright against your own frame. You glance up to let your eyes focus back on his expression, lips now parted and letting out soft breaths as you felt over the effort he put into his body.

Your hands move back to his sides, drifting slowly to his shoulders as you let yourself lean in and attach your lips to his chest. It started with slow kisses, wet and leaving a light, slick trail of spit behind as you brushed the tip of your tongue over his tanned skin. A particularly heavy breath escaped his lips when you let your tongue slide over his nipple, warm and wet and everything he needed right now.

With a soft hum in the back of your throat, your hands on his shoulders give a gentle push to guide him back. Changbin peeks his eyes open just to glance at you as you settle him back, finally sitting properly on the couch and leaning back into the furniture to get comfortable. No longer stiff and instead really melting against the leather, he sighed out and let his eyes flutter closed again when the assault of your tongue never ceased against his chest. You let yourself lean in just a bit closer, wrapping your lips around the nipple you'd previously been teasing and sucking lightly on the bud to get him to whine.

Changbin lets his thighs part wide, thinking you may take the initiative and crawl into his lap to ride him or grind down on his cock so hard it makes him tear up like you'd done last week. But you don't, much to his dismay, and instead stay seated at his side to focus on the task at hand. Oh well - At least it's a little relief to his cock, sitting like this, spread wide and practically offering it to you. Maybe even silently begging for you to touch it, to tug him from his jeans and spit on it until he's leaking from the tip. (As if he wasn't already.)

He moans, head tipping back into the couch as he slowly lifts his hips. You barely even notice the movement, still rubbing your thumbs over the bare skin of his shoulders, massaging the junction beside his throat and paying most of your attention to his chest. Changbin shifts again, hips rocking upward in soft rolls when he realizes he can achieve just a little friction from the fly of his jeans. His cock twitches in his boxers and he huffs out, brows furrowing to create the softest wrinkle between his eyes.

Your lips had moved away from the deep pink bud, traveling over his pec and sucking a few marks into his skin that were sure to bruise over the hours. Dark red and almost angry in color, you shape a small heart over his skin and take your time in making it perfect, tongue lathing over the marking of your presence before you pulled away. You had barely detached from him before finding his lips once more with your own, his tongue immediately meeting yours to show that he really was enjoying this - more than he probably should be.

The studio is silent save for the soft breaths that escape Changbin. He's huffing out when you leave his lips in favor of peppering wet kisses down his throat - and for a moment he thinks you're going back to abusing his poor chest. But when you veer to the right and instead venture towards his shoulder, he shudders in a ticklish manner and opens his eyes just to glance at the top of your head.

He's confused as to where you're going - Until you start sucking marks all along his bicep.

And Changbin isn't one to... brag, per say. He likes to show off his hard work, flex on camera and wiggle his brows when he noticed you (or Felix) looking at his body for a particularly long time; But Bin was more often than not NOT in tight clothing. He sported baggy sweaters too big for him, denim jackets that were loose and never buttoned. He liked when people looked, yes, he appreciated the appreciation, but he wasn't one to brag.

So he wasn't sure what it was about you sucking hickies over his muscle that made him bust instantly in his jeans.

He doesn't even see it coming until his vision jerks to a white, cum spurting from his cock in thick ropes and he's sure that if he wasn't wearing his pants he would've shot it halfway across the room with how fast it leaves his poor muddy tip. His lips fall apart as his breathing comes to a halt and he's left speechless, eyes rolling back into his skull as his head falls back once more.

His hips jerk in a weak manner as if he's chasing any friction he can have on his own, your body adjusting as it hovers over his own. When he tips his head to look at you he ends up meeting your eyes immediately, once again startled when he feels pressure over his cock. Your hand had slipped down to feel over the bulge in his jeans, fingers wrapping over the outline of his slowly softening cock to give it an experimental tug. It's the first sound Changbin makes that evening, a groan that escapes his throat in slight annoyance at you only now touching him.

"I didn't know you were enjoying it that much," You tease, hand once again caressing over his cock as he breathed heavy. "I guess that means we'll just have to do this again."

God - You'll be the death of him.