#fic: perks of being good
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fearandhatred · 1 year ago
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the very first thing i did in 2024 was go insane aka i slept at 7am and among other things i drew these! they're unrefined and only two panels of a much larger thing i'm doing but since that'll not be done any time soon i thought i might as well post these first
panel 8 of panel 2
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takaraphoenix · 23 days ago
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When a fic that starts out in a space after 3A includes Boyd and Erica being alive: ❤😍😘💖🥰😍💗🥰🥰💕😍😍💗😍😁💖🥰🥰💕
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seleneprince · 4 months ago
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Persea is basically just like canon Percy in terms of personality and hobbies, except she does roller derby instead of basketball
Trust me, that makes a difference.
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fallinginaforest · 2 years ago
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I just saw a tik tok edit with Todd as the english teacher in perks of being a wallflower and it was a scene from that interspresed with like dps flashbacks and i am emotionally devastated i have never been this affected by a fucking tik tok oh no
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transmasc-tabris · 7 months ago
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heegyukeluv · 2 months ago
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complementary - the physics of your body [part 1] (sjy)
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pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader
synopsis: The thermodynamics of your bodies together, the sound wave of your moans, the gravity that pulled you towards each other. You were a perfect combination, the right equilibrium, complementary.
my's note: i had to break this work into two parts due to the size of it, i'm so sorry. i'll post the part 2 in a few days! my longest (and dirtiest) work lol. i used some physics concepts but funny thing hah i know nothing about physics SO PLEASE don't think too much into it... also don't know if i'd commit this much with a fic if wasn't for ari freaking out whenever I teased to add something new so please everyone say thank you ari! <3 on a side note: this is especially for her. i love you, ari 💞
warnings: mention of trauma from parents, jay is y/n’s older brother, jake is jay's best friend and three years older than the reader, physics stuff lol, reader blushing/turning red!, drama/arguments, fluff, angst a little (with happy ending!!), pet names (babe, doll, good girl...) SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (m.), choking, jk cum inside, gag, overstimulation (m.). lmk if i missed something!
wc: 27k.
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers
“I know that delaying it seemed the right thing to do at the time, but I don’t think you can run away from physics anymore, kiddo.”
As your eyes rolled, annoyed with the nickname, you smacked the pizza dough into the cold marble, kneading it to make it perfectly soft. The inner core of your stomach tightened with the reminder, bringing a bitter taste on the back of your throat that made you gulp.
“I’m literally in my second year in college and you’re still calling me that.”
Your muttered words elicited an immediate laugh from Jay, your big brother, who had his body resting on the door frame while watching you across the kitchen, panicking over the fact that you would finally have to deal with your biggest fear in school, by choosing to randomly make pizza at 4pm on a thursday.
‘It helps me to destress,’ you explained once. ‘To smack something that’s not someone’s face.’
“You’d always be my kiddo,” he answered back fondly, yet with a hint of mocking, as he moved to sit at the kitchen peninsula chair. 
Jay never really raised a question over your decisions and behaviors, applauding and supporting you every time while shooting loving eyes towards you whenever you were around doing your silly little things; just like now, as he followed your movements, a bit concerned with your deep frown and how quickly your hands worked on the dough, but nearby just in case you needed some help.
Over the years, the two of you shared a strong, healthy bond, especially within the walls of the house you grew up in.
Having wealthy parents came with its perks and its drawbacks, but for you, the drawbacks often outweighed the rest. Pursuing a dream that didn’t align with your dad’s expectations felt almost like a betrayal of your family’s values, as if you were intentionally choosing to disappoint them by turning away from the prospect of becoming a doctor, lawyer, or even a future CEO of the family company.
Some would say you were crazy for challenging yourself into a rougher path, giving away the possibilities of a stable life to pursue your real dreams. However, it didn’t sound right for you to live a life without your wills being the main worry of it, forcing yourself to fit a model instead of creating your own.
Amidst the chaos you grew up in, Jay was always there to hold you close and feel proud with your achievements, protecting and looking after you.
He would drive you to your classes every morning when he started high school and you were still finishing middle school, buy you expensive gifts, and take you to fancy restaurants for your birthday. He always had his bedroom’s door unlocked for you to come when you felt like crying in the middle of the night because of something shitty your parents screamed at you. He never minded skipping work or classes if it meant staying home to take care of you when you were sick. And he had no issue scaring away any guy who, in his eyes, never seemed to be worthy enough of you.
You couldn’t help but laugh whenever his protective tactics worked, knowing that, deep down, your brother was just a big softie, never ever daring to kill an insect and crying over romantic movies.
Moving in with him always sounded right, it was part of your big plans; finish school, get into college and share an apartment with your brother, who would be just wrapping up his own studies.
Jay offered you the reliability you needed.
He was three years older than you, now working as a CEO in one of your family’s company subsidiaries after finishing administration school, and tried his best to give you everything you wanted and needed to live a good, comfortable life at least until you achieved your goal and stability by yourself, not wanting for your to do side jobs and focus only on studying.
Jay never cared much about doing it for him, choosing to pamper you to the brim without asking for anything back, even though you unconsciously paid with your happiness.
Due to your tough relationship with your parents, you never really took it for granted, working hard to keep yourself steady enough to live alone if you need to – Jay, on the other hand, would move mountains for that never to happen.
Jay fought for his place in the world with a little less struggle than you, and he blamed himself for it to some extent.
Your parents beamed with joy when he announced he would be studying business administration; you still remember that night of celebration, with your father practically glowing with happiness – the kind of happiness you knew you would never be able to give him, since you wanted to follow the artistic path of the spectrum.
Eventually, with your decision’s outcome, Jay made it his mission to take care of both of you, because he understood that life had been unfair to you. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t want to follow the pattern they had set out for you based only on their expectations. You didn’t deserve to hear the hurtful words your parents threw at you, expressing their disappointment and sadness over who you had become.
Jay, however, admired the incredible woman you had turned into, in awe of your strength to keep fighting for your dreams, and he worked tirelessly to ensure you were safe, sound, and happy.
Now, you were in your second year in college, studying fine arts with Jay’s unwavering financial support; he offered you a comfortable place to live, covered your tuition and fees, food, clothes, and even your materials and books without bothering to ask for anything back in return.
The only thing he wanted was for you to concentrate on your studies and be happy.
And focus you did, although you had postponed as much as you could to finish a part of the core curriculum.
After everything you had been through, you could honestly say that physics was your biggest – and most frustrating – enemy. 
You hated physics with passion, never understanding why the fuck you had to study it.
The speed of the light? Why bother? You would never use it to measure anything in your everyday life anyway. And gravity? Yeah, you knew it kept you grounded on Earth, but it sure didn’t help you keep your steps steady. You were constantly tripping over your own feet.
It just never made sense to you. It only made you want to scream in frustration, tearing at your hair with every weird equation and choice of words to explain annoying, bullshit stuff.
“I just hate physics,” you groaned, breath heavy as your anger increased; a few strands of hair fell messily across your face, making the whole situation worse. “I hate it,” you muttered, punching the dough harder. Jay laughed. “Hate it, hate it, hate it!” You repeated, each word punctuated by another angry smack against the poor pizza dough.
Jay, trying to hide his grin, shook his head. "I don’t think the pizza dough has anything to do with your physics situation," he teased.
As much as he loved you, he was your brother and would always find a way to taunt your nerves before really offering a helping hand. 
A deep sigh escaped your lips as you fluttered your eyes close and threw your head back. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of irritation and helplessness washing over you working as a perfect mix to send you to the edge of losing control, and you wondered why you got so triggered over such a trivial thing.
Then, it clicked. Of course, trauma from your parents. 
You had always pushed yourself over the limit to be better, to get the highest grades and do your absolute best in school, only to feel frustrated when you couldn’t achieve perfection.
In your parents’ eyes, you would never be good enough no matter how many perfect scores you aced on exams and assignments.
In college, despite moving out of their house and ending contact almost entirely, you still held yourself to the same impossible standards, sometimes even worse.
Confronting a subject where you knew you couldn’t be the best felt like a trigger, a reminder of everything you had been told over the years.
Useless. Incapable. Insufficient.
You automatically remembered last night, when you sat at your desk, eyes wandering over the physics textbooks sprawled open on the surface, words coming in a blur. You couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it was due to your incapacity to understand them or to your tears that flowed easily after some minutes sitting in trance.
The weight was almost suffocating and you called it a day when your hands started to tremble and your body ached for rest, feeling extra tired just by… staring.
You rested your hips on the cold marble, blinking your eyelids open to glance at your brother. He had now a softened expression, calm and fond, hands comfortably placed on the countertop.
“I think I’m just oversensitive,” you said, voice barely above a whisper as your hands now played with the dough absentmindedly, eyes slowly lowering to watch how your fingers disappeared into the soft white mixture. “Y’know, our parents they…” You trailed off, not really wanting to verbalize your thoughts.
“Yeah,” Jay nodded, sighing. The knot in his heart tightened seeing you so pouty, understanding from how deep and particular your frustration came. “Listen, I know you hate it, but you have to at least do the minimum to pass. You don’t have to ace it all.” Jay spoke while standing up to wrap around the counter and stand by your side, his body resting on the counter as well. 
You leaned into the touch when he caressed your hair, your whole body shifting to a less tense figure.
Jay tilted his head forward enough to search for your sad, puppy eyes. Suddenly, an insight crossed his mind and his lips curved into a smile.
“I have a friend,” he said and you finally glanced at him. The unexpected mention of his friend and how he sounded like having a great idea sparking your curiosity. “I think he’d love to help you.”
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“So, I invited the guys over,” Jay said while placing some beers on the minifridge near the entrance of your shared living room. You were standing up awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyes following Jay’s excited figure as he organized the house to welcome his friends. “And while me, Heeseung and Sunghoon do something fun, you and Jake can do the boring stuff.”
Jay had a plan, a solid one. And in any other circumstance you wouldn’t be so nervous about it. 
It was just another regular Friday. It was also routine for you to go out with your friends to some bar, club, or even have a girls' night at someone's house, while Jay would head to the house his friends shared.
Jay always used the excuse that he would rather keep the house free for you or not bother you, especially on those nights when you would choose to stay home to relax or study, though part of you suspected that sometimes he was actually heading to a girl's house and just didn’t want to tell you.
Either way, today felt different.
It all started with him inviting the guys over to his place instead of the other way around, followed by a surprisingly sweet request for you to stay in and not go anywhere.
Soon after, he revealed his plan: he, Sunghoon, and Heeseung would play video games in the living room while you and Jake studied physics in some other corner of the house. He promised they would keep the noise down so as not to disturb you.
As said before, in any other situation you wouldn’t be reacting the way you were; hands sweating, heart pumping loudly in your eardrums, head spinning. But in other situations there was no Jake in the equation.
Sim fucking Jaeyun, also known as Jake, was one of Jay’s closest friends, acting as much as siblings as you two.
They met in school and hadn't left each other’s side ever since, sharing hundreds of stories together, with a bunch of adventures and countless funny moments. You closely watched them grow up and accomplish things side by side, constantly attending Jake's birthday parties and other of his family’s events, even participating vividly on some of the “boy’s night” in your house where you crushed them in the video games they choose to play, always eliciting surprised sounds from Jake followed by compliments excitedly said, that, at some point, started to make you feel things.
When Jay moved out to start college, you were left alone at the house that aimed to destroy your dreams and, indirectly, you, having to deal with a lot on your own, constantly hearing the harsh words from your parents and having to lower your head without the courage to fight back, because Jay wasn’t there to defend you anymore.
Jay’s routine became heavy, as he landed an internship early during his second year that consumed most of his time, barely having minutes to talk to you over the phone, moments where you opted to listen to his news and college life instead of filling him with your teenager suffering bullshit. 
On the other hand, Jake, who was also in college, had way more free time. Whenever he went back to visit his own parents, he would set a time to take you out on weekends, helping you clear your head by treating you with some ice cream and any other snacks you wanted while listening to your concerns.
You grew really close to Jake during your high school years, noticing the genuine attention he gave you. Jake would always be close to you as a protective older brother, someone who looked out for you and took good care of you, a very trustworthy and sincere friend.
And yet, you always, always felt guilty for letting your feelings for him go beyond “just friends.”
Jake was the same age as Jay – three years older than you, three years more experienced, three years more everything. He was, now, a man. A very attractive, hot, appealing man. 
You had the chance to watch Jake grow up right before your eyes, transforming from a good-looking teenager into a charming young man. He had an irresistible smile, warm brown eyes that radiated kindness and sweetness, and a genuine aura that permeated his personality – always wanting to help others in the most caring way possible.
He was friendly, easygoing, sociable, and intelligent.
And when you saw him blossom, it was impossible not to feel completely captivated.
You vividly remember the time your brother posted a photo with his friends at the beach, and there was Jake, shirtless, showing off his toned, slightly sun-kissed body to the world. At that time you were already in your first year of college, while he was finishing up his own studies deep into the engineer life he chose to live. 
Your relationship had cooled off a bit, as his academic demands increased and his visits became less frequent, until you eventually moved in with your brother. You assumed you would see Jake more often, but, for reasons unknown, Jay rarely invited his friends over to visit and Jake never really reached out for you.
It became awkward.
You attended parties with your brother and met Sunghoon and Heeseung, Jay’s college friends, that created a unique bond despite having known each other for less time. The four of them became as close as family, and Jay made sure his friends knew you in order to keep you safe when he wasn’t around, constantly allowing them to pick you up on your way back home due to some unexpected schedule that kept him from doing it himself, for instance.
Jake, however, became distant. He would always have excuses not to do any of that and whenever you saw him at parties, he would at most give you a forced smile and a slight, polite nod, quickly diverting his path and avoiding you for the rest of the night.
It was painful in a way, especially since now that you were grown you realized your chances with him might actually be within reach. 
As a teenager, your crush was as subtle as possible, aware that neither Jake nor Jay would ever approve of any kind of relationship between the two of you, so you never truly considered anything happening.
But now you had become a woman. And a relatively attractive one, if you did say so yourself. So, just as physics had never made sense to you, Jake’s reaction to your presence had become just as baffling, until eventually you buried your feelings completely and moved on.
At least, that’s what you thought – until Jay came up with this wild idea of having Jake as your physics tutor.
You gulped down your nervousness for the probably ninetieth time, now intensified by the bell ringing. Jay was in the bathroom and shouted for you to open the front door, saying it was the guys that had arrived.
As you made your way towards the entrance, your legs felt wobbly and your heart was racing fast as you clutched the door’s knob. You took a deep breath, silently counting to ten before finally turning the handle.
“Y/N!” Heeseung was the first to greet you with his usual bright smile, wrapping you immediately with his long arms in a tight hug, not minding that he carried some bags with his hands or that they clashed against your back. His blonde hair was perfectly parted, giving a very enticing aura to his already charming presence. 
You smiled in response, warmed by his sweet embrace. By his side stood Sunghoon, his dark hair and thick brows framing his pale face perfectly. His cheeks rounded up as he gave you a shy, endearing smile before pulling you into his own hug.
“Missed you,” he muttered softly against your hair and you chuckled, squeezing him just a bit tighter before stepping back.
“You guys never come to see me, so I don’t know who’s really missing who here,” you shot back with a teasing grin, pretending to pout as you moved away from Sunghoon, almost forgetting about the third presence standing behind them in the hallway. 
After hearing their laughs and letting them in, your eyes flickered to the man awkwardly waiting for the interaction between the three of you to settle. Your breath hitched when your gaze met his, and you had to dig self control from the depths of your mind not to overreact. 
Jake was as handsome as ever.
He was casually dressed in a leather jacket over a white shirt and distressed jeans that seemed to fit him almost too perfectly. Effortlessly good, rough and soft just like your heart enjoyed, which was beating loudly in your ribcage, enough for you to fear to be heard even with the noises from the other two who had just entered your house and were greeting Jay. 
“Hey,” Jake managed to say without giving you a proper look, eyes avoiding your figure at all costs. 
“Hey,” you replied with a forced small smile, stepping back to give him space to pass through, even though there was more than enough. You felt like it would be like that the whole night: awkward and distant. And it only increased your anxiety.
As you closed the door, feet glued on the ground, you wondered if it would be harder to understand anything physics related or to deal with Jake’s presence. The only coherent answer you found was that either would be a pain in the ass, and you would be the one getting fucked at the end. Emotionally and academically. 
Watching them settling into your apartment, comfortably lounging on your couch while laughing and drinking the beer Jay served, you couldn’t help but think when exactly the whole tutoring thing would start. You waited for someone to bring it up, because although it seemed like a good idea, your inner self had doubts about your own reaction when being in a place alone with Jake and had no plans to pursue or engage it.
The couch’s armrest had never felt so awkwardly uncomfortable as you sat there, listening to the endless, nonchalant chatter around you. One of your arms rested on the back of the couch, propping up your head as your eyes shifted between Jake and the others. Whenever he caught you staring, you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to act like you weren’t a bundle of nerves just being in the same room with him.
Heeseung was the one near you, casually using your legs as a makeshift support to his own arm, and Jay sat beside him, completely indifferent to Heeseung's touchy nature – it became routine, to some extent.
Sunghoon and Jake took place on the smaller couch opposite to you, Jake smiling along to the conversation while adding his own points to the whatever story they were telling and Sunghoon laughter filling the room. 
You always found it amusing how Sunghoon seemed to be the reserved one, but when he was with his friends he was definitely the loudest.
Heeseung and you grew closer than you expected, often being the one giving you rides home, even raising some suspicions among your friends about being your boyfriend. As nice, gentle and charming he was, you never saw yourself having feelings for or even dating him.
Not when Jake was on the equation.
What?
“But hey, Jake,” Heeseung suddenly cut the topic and gave a quick squeeze on your thigh. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping Y/N with her studies?”
A cold chill immediately filled your belly and you froze in place, the smile lingering on your lips by listening to their funny chatter fading slowly as you lifted your gaze to Jake. Heeseung was innocently asking, but it caused your stomach to flip a whole 360, and the room was now dividing looks between you two.
You watched as Jake’s expression faltered for just a moment, then quickly returned to his usual easy going demeanor. Before he said anything in response, Jay took the front of it.
“Oh, that’s right,” Jay said, leaning back into the couch with a teasing grin. “I asked you to help my sister, not come here to drink my beer and lounge on my expensive couch.”
You wanted to sink into the floor, or at least disappear. Jake shifted uncomfortably, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips though you could clearly tell he was faking it. Jay’s obliviousness only made it worse, as if he couldn’t even sense the awkwardness between you and Jake.
There was no blame on him, though, especially because no one expected any type of tension between any of you. 
You shot a quick glance at Jake again, who was avoiding your gaze once more, and all of a sudden the room felt too small, too crowded, as if the space around you was closing in, sinking you deep into a pool of anxiety. 
“You don’t have to bother, really,” your voice filled the room, words waving weirdly in the air. You let out a mild chuckle, pushing yourself from your seating to stand up. “I’ll go to my room, so you guys can hang–”
“Hey, no way,” Jay interrupted your attempt of running away, frowning and lifting his beer bottle to point it at you, yet blind to the real atmosphere unfolding. “Don’t try to escape from physics, kiddo.”
Heeseung’s small snort followed Jay's words, giving you teasing glinted eyes before remarking, his lips against his beer bottle. “Yeah, Y/N. You’ve been avoiding it for God’s know how long.” 
Somehow Heeseung’s choice of words seemed to light up a strange feeling in your chest, as if he was reading beyond reality, slightly aware of the you and Jake situation – to begin with, there was no you and Jake situation. No way he would say that about your relationship with physics alone. Anyway, your cheeks warmed instantly, your eyes wavering to any other place rather than the rest of the people sharing that abruptly small space with you.
“I think the kitchen is far enough for you both,” Sunghoon quickly added with a relaxed nod, sipping on his beer. “We promise not to be loud, yeah?” He smirked, completely aware he was the loudest in the house so far. 
You chuckled, switching your weight on your foot. “I can’t believe it when you’re the one saying it,” you teased back, eliciting an immediate laugh from Sunghoon. “But yeah, the kitchen seems to be an okay place. Besides, there’s food and I can totally escape from physics or whatever with food,” you shot Jay a playful grin, quirking an eyebrow, challenging. 
“Don’t you dare.” Jay said firmly, but not really. You knew he was nothing but a worried brother about your mental health and how your academic performance affected it, wishing to give you only the best.
Unfortunately, the best in his vision wasn’t necessarily the best you needed at that moment. 
Jake finally stood up, fixing his clothes as he did so, running his fingers through his thick hair and glancing at you; your eyes tracked his every movement, the sinking feeling in your stomach tightening with the view. He was so damn hot. 
“The kitchen it is, then.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump of nervousness in your throat that came back in a strike, after reminding you would be spending quite a long time alone with Jake, having nowhere to run nor anything to calm down your fluttering heart.
Your legs betrayed you, feeling weak under the pressure of the situation. Still, you forced yourself to move, muttering a quiet “I’ll go grab my books,” before rushing off towards your room.
As you came back, hands shaking and mouth dry, you headed straight to the kitchen wishing to have some more time alone to organize your thoughts, gather yourself and regain your senses before calling Jake. Unexpectedly, he was already there, sitting stiffly on the chair he chose while his slender fingers rapidly danced on his phone screen, unaware of your presence.
Your entire body froze, your plan going down the drain right away. You bit your lower lip, a soft, involuntary action that seemed to be the only thing holding you together in that moment. You had to keep moving forward. You had to. But you couldn’t. Not when Jake was just… there.
A glimpse of a smirk curved the corner of his oh, so plush, distracting lips, glistening under the kitchen’s light while his attention was all on his phone, clearly chatting with someone. Girlfriend? The thought crossed your mind briefly; a man like Jake was probably taken already, and, to be honest, a small part of you almost hoped for it to be true, so you could stop torturing yourself over your silly feelings for him and really move on.
But Jake didn’t ease your side, cheeky tongue every so often playing with the corner of his mouth, teeth pressing his plump bottom lip, and from where you stood you could see his pretty eyelashes fluttering with each blink, oblivious to the effect he was causing on you, oblivious to the storm happening inside your chest.
With a loud and sudden laugh his body jolted, phone slipping from his hands and clattering onto the table as he threw his head back, one of his hands messily running through his silk brown strands out of habit.
Only then he noticed you, standing up in the kitchen’s door, hugging your books, clearly staring. 
“Holy fuck, Y/N!” He blurted out, a hand flying to his chest as if to steady himself, his puppy eyes widened to you, shoulders clearly tensed. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“I–I’m sorry,” you stuttered, stepping further into the room and trying to sound casual, as if you weren’t watching him from the past seconds with your heart almost ripping your ribcage open. “Didn’t mean to.”
Jake took a second to regain his composure and his eyes involuntarily lingered on your figure longer than he wanted to, nearly shamelessly tracing the lines of your body; the soft curve of your bare shoulders, how your spaghetti strap top appealed to evidentiate your collarbone and tightened just enough on your chest. Then he paid attention to your pretty fingers clutching the edges of your notebook and books, lowering to the tiny bit of exposed skin of your belly, then your beautiful hips and covered legs. 
You had chosen a comfortable outfit, not giving a thought about appearance at all – after all, not only the boys had seen you way worse, but the night’s plans gravitated towards studying and studying only.
Even so, Jake had to hold himself back. There was something about the way your clothes hugged your form that had him silently disorientated, heart faltering some beats and breath hardly passing through his airways, his own body heating just by visualizing you.
He cleared his throat, glancing down to fidget with his phone as a way to ground himself, breaking the tension settled thickly between you two. The small sound brought you out of the daze you got yourself into without realizing it.
“So…” Jake finally said, his voice a bit unsteady and lower than you expected. “Where do you want to start?”
His sweet eyes lifted to meet yours again, and his usual easy smile had a hint of something more cautious, more careful, as he focused on your adorable wide-eyed expression. He noticed your cheeks with a faint blush and couldn’t hold back a little grin when you diverted your eyes shyly. 
You slid into the seat across him, sprawling your materials over the table with a quiet sigh, your eyes anxiously avoiding Jake’s.
“I have no idea.” You admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle, struggling to soothe your nerves. “The basics?” You added unsurely and Jake was fast to nod tenderly.
Though he was dealing with a lot in his mind, he would always have a soft spot for you. 
“Basics, yeah. Sounds great.” He agreed with a small smile, carefully reaching out your notebook and opening to scan your notes. 
A wave of embarrassment flushed over you as you remembered the stupid things you wrote during your classes, fighting your demons trying to understand at least the bare minimum, scribbles that hardly made sense, and that now probably got you looking extra dumb and childish under Jake’s judgment.
You heard him humming before grabbing one of your books, his fingers brushing yours quietly and quickly as he did so. You ignored the burst of electricity induced by that simple touch, watching how his slender fingers casually flipped the pages until he reached the one he was searching for.
“You know, I can explain this easily to you,” Jake began to talk, his voice dropping to an unexpected gentle teacher-like tone as he leaned over the table a little, enough to get closer to you, enough to have your stomach twisting and flipping to every direction possible with the warmth his body radiated. “Just don’t mind me if I get too technical sometimes.”
“No problem,” you managed to say, grateful your voice was steady enough for you not to sound stupid or squealed, your eyes glued to your handwriting, tracing the lines of each word as a way of desperately dodging the possibility of meeting Jake’s gaze.
Even the faintest peek of his furrowed brow when he was focused was enough to make you melt, and he had no idea of how attractive he looked when he was all serious and devoted explaining his nerd things.
“Promise me you’ll tell me if you stop following me, alright?” He added, a smile tugging at his lips that you only saw by the corner of your eyes. 
You nodded quickly, swallowing hard; the scent of his cologne was flooding your senses, drawing you in closer, making it harder to think straight.
“Okay,” you replied, quiet and breathlessly.
For the following few minutes Jake explained the concepts slowly, his voice calm and steady as he walked you through the basics, but your head kept drifting your attention away, deeply engaged with the way his gorgeous fingers traced the lines of your textbook. The following thoughts were too dirty to even continue with.
Jake had that familiar Australian accent that naturally made you weak, and now, combined with the way he had softened his tone, speaking so close to your face, it was enough to drive you completely insane. You couldn’t focus on anything but how his warm breath traveled gently, brushing against the sensitive skin of your cheeks, increasing your fluster.
Your heart raced. It raced far too quickly.
The realization of how your body was reacting brought back memories of the times Jake had caused similar sensations in the past, back when he treated you with that older-brother tenderness and you would instantly overreact, shivering at his subtle touches, stuttering whenever his gaze landed on you with his usual captivating smile.
It was undeniable that something had shifted at some point; once there was the slight possibility of getting something more from him, no more holding “Jay's little sister's” place. You couldn’t quite grasp what happened or understand what had triggered such a sudden change, especially since you couldn’t recall having done anything wrong.
Your mind kept drifting away from the materials in front of you. Physics was never your thing, and in that very moment no amount of effort could make it so.
Not when Jake was all over you; in your head, by your side, overwhelming your senses.
Every so often his gaze flicked back to you, expecting to see your attentive, engaged expression, and consequently catching the way you chewed on your lower lip or absentmindedly twirled a pen between your fingers with furrowed brows. 
You had tied your hair in a bun as some strands began to fall over your face, working as a distraction – you were already surrounded with an overwhelming distraction, there was no need for more. That simple act had Jake stuttering, fumbling amidst his words and losing track of his thoughts as the hairstyle gave him the privilege to see your bare, beautiful and kissable neck. 
His hands tingled, urging to touch you there. Would you like to be choked?
Ok, that definitely wasn’t physics. 
Jake fell silent, swallowing hard as you leaned forward to see the drawing he was just explaining, thinking the delay was intentional. When no words came from his mouth and the air suddenly grew thicker, your eyes followed the trail from his fingers to his veiny hands, from his covered torso to his face, hovering longer on how clenched his sharp jaw was and how his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.
You shot a questioning look, blinking innocently with brows raised just slightly. 
Jake wavered under your curious, yet somehow intense gaze, averting it immediately in order to regain his conscious back. Your lips had pursed into a small pout that did nothing to help his way out of his messy head.
Everything he could think about was how bad he wanted to kiss you.
“Something’s wrong?” Your velvety voice enveloped the room, a naive question with a supposedly simple answer that got caught in Jake’s throat.
Jake never saw you as a potential partner or lover, let alone as an object of his desire. 
You were Jay’s little sister that he cared for as if his own. He saw you grow up, he watched you achieving your goals and got inspired by your strength to overcome the toxic place you had to call a house. Jake cherished your relationship with Jay, grateful for both of you having each other, and that was pretty much you to him.
Even in those times when he treated you to ice cream and snacks during his college breaks, when he visited his parents back home, he kept you in a certain specific spot in his life – something close to family.
He loved to tease you, exactly like a mischievous older brother, laughing when you tripped, when your mouth was stained with chocolate, or when you fumbled through words while talking about your school crush.
Jake had always seen you as a younger sister he needed to look out for.
Until you grew up.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the switch happened, when he stopped seeing you as a little girl he had to tease and began noticing you as a ridiculously attractive woman, but seeing you in person after two years definitely played a role in that.
Jake had been your closest company through your first two years of high school, filling the role of an older brother, a place Jay couldn’t quite manage to fill because of his own study and work demands, unwillingly. 
During your last year of high school you stopped seeing Jake, as he had gotten caught up in the same cycle as your brother: studying and working. And you completely understood, knowing that soon enough you would be in a similar place.
Then you graduated and started your own college journey, and Jake, deep into his own responsibilities, went another year without seeing you.
It was at the beginning of your sophomore year in college that you two crossed paths again – at a party when Jay finally agreed to take you with him, after much persistence on your part.
Jake froze.
Jake quite literally forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink, how to properly work as a human the moment his eyes landed on you, stunning in a short, wine-colored dress, casually holding a drink in your hand.
Jake didn’t remember your body looking anything like that, used to seeing you in casual, loose clothing rather than that fitted, short dress that framed your thighs so perfectly, drawing his hungry gaze to stare as a starved man, with a subtle neckline that hinted at the curve of your chest.
Hot.
That was all he could think. Until he realized it was you.
He remembered it vividly: watching you from behind as you danced, immediately struck by how attractive that random woman seemed to be. But as his gaze traveled upward and found your face, he froze, utterly overwhelmed with shock and panic. Especially when you noticed him looking, shooting a cute, surprised smile and a little wave, almost as if you were going to come over.
To say he ran away from there was close to an euphemism, rushing over the bathroom within a lame excuse thrown at his friends before heading back home after using the bar’s back door as his way out.
The walk home was painful. Jake’s head was filled with nasty thoughts that made him completely unable to disable it from happening, swirling around in a dirty carousel. 
Jake felt like a naughty, filthy pervert. You were Jay’s little sister. The one he played innocently with, hung out countless times without the slightest thought of having you as a true woman; and if the thought ever crossed his mind, he would feel disgusted, because it made no sense and was wrong.
So, the only way to overcome your effect on him was to ignore you at every possible opportunity, not expecting you to care that much about it.
It was a stupid choice, an asshole one even. You used to be friends and now he would rather choose to be eaten by a bear than see you up close and act normal.
Jay’s sudden plan of asking for his help was the start of his downfall for you, and now he was dealing with the consequences of his previous decisions. 
“Jakey?”
The nickname. The fucking nickname you last called him years ago, now sounding even mellow and sweeter, yet as sultry as ever. Jake wondered how would it be to have you underneath him, moaning his name as if your life depended on it with his dick buried deep into your cunt.
“Y–Yeah?” 
Jake immediately damned himself for the stutter, afraid of being too obvious with his nervous reaction. He made the mistake of looking at you, trying to act as normal as possible, and somehow his brain managed to picture your oh, so cute eyes fluttering close as he pleasured you.
His face heated instantly, as if fire was being spread all over his skin. His body was hot as hell, the loosen pants now not so comfortable as before, tightening on his crotch area.
“What happened?”
You nonchalantly touched his covered forearm as you asked, concern written all over your face as you struggled to understand what was happening. Jake's abrupt reaction of moving away from your soft hands startled you a little, your head cocking to the side as you frowned, reading Jake’s widened and panicked eyes.
Unaware of the real deal, oblivious to the torrent of emotions and feelings dancing inside Jake’s head and chest, you started to feel really annoyed.
Was Jake slipping back into that strange, sudden habit of ignoring you, like he had been since you had started crossing paths again?
There was no plausible explanation for his reaction. The two of you used to go out together all the time, comfortable touches being a natural part of your relationship – especially since Jake was almost ridiculously clingy with his close friends. 
When the whole ‘avoiding you’ situation first started you were very confused and questioned what you did wrong. Then you grew mad and eventually got over it since you had no contact at all with Jake throughout the following months, nearly forgetting his existence. 
But now you had to face it all again, confronting the feelings you once went through; a familiar bitter blend of anger and hurt. It stung like reopening a wound you thought it healed. Exposed, sensitive, vulnerable, bringing back memories you hoped to erase.
“Nothing happen–”
“Why did you stop talking to me?”
Your interruption was as abrupt as Jake’s reaction to your close presence earlier. He noticed the spark of rage flashing your two orbs suddenly, causing him to blink, caught off guard, eyes widening even bigger if it was possible, trying to understand what you just had hit him with.
“Huh?”
You let out a frustrated huff before repeating yourself even more mad, your hands traveling to your hair fix some random strands as an anxious fidgeting habit to ground you. 
“You started to ignore and avoid me. Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off?”
Jake was taken aback with your outburst of questions, lips parted, words caught somewhere down his throat. There was something close to a knot pressing the back of his tongue that made it hard to speak steadily.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Jake.” You sighed, expression softening just slightly, studying his face. “We used to hang out. We were friends, even.”
Jake exhaled, biting his lip as a way to hold back his words. If he let it all out, he would scare you so fucking bad. 
“Yes, when you were younger.”
“What changed?”
You saw how his shoulders tensed, his neck moving as he swallowed hard, demonstrating to feel flustered under your inquisitive gaze. His eyes dropped to his lap, where one of his hands rested comfortably. He dug the depths of his thoughts to keep it as safe and subtle as possible, not wanting to pour it all on you.
“I... I always saw you as a little sister. That’s how I looked at you, like family.”
You nodded along, following his soft-spoken speech. You didn't understand what exactly he was aiming for with it so far, so you let him continue, hoping it would bring a closure for your relationship to blossom again.
“But then–” He hesitated, eyes flickering up to you and then drifting away. His voice dropped an octave as he added. “I got overwhelmed with my last year in college and eventually with my work. So I didn't have time to see you often. Life just got… Busy.”
Deep down he knew you wouldn’t buy his lame explanation. However, didn’t stop him from holding tightly the small string of hope you would let it pass. 
At the same time, he had a tingling feeling telling him to blurt out everything he went through when you were the subject. How hard it was to act normal when Jay talked about you, to not get hard seeing your cute instagram pictures, not picture himself getting lost in the middle of your plush thighs. 
God, you worked him up too easily.
“I get that part, I really do,” you replied, boldly and kind of unconsciously placing your hand on top of Jake's. This time he didn’t flinch, taking in your soft, innocent touch. Still, his breath hitched. “But when I moved here, you started avidly avoiding me,” you continued, voice dropping to something near a whisper as your fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of his hand. “You’d ignore me at parties, never stopping by to visit. I just didn’t understand.”
Jake shifted uncomfortably on his seat, embarrassed of your accurate analysis.
“The visiting part is Jay's fault. He was the one who suggested for him to go to our house instead of us three coming over here. Just… Making things easier, I guess.”
“That makes sense,” you murmured, pulling your hand away as you realized the weight of the intimacy, afraid of being too weird. “But the avoiding and ignoring me… It doesn't make any.”
Jake closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep sigh. There were no more ways to run away from the topic; his weak excuses had long been overrun by the intensity of your pressing curiosity. You were ready to dig deep and uncover the truth at any cost. Jake knew you well enough to expect this – your persistence, your determination, your stubbornness were traits he had always admired in you and your brother.
“I’m sorry.”
“If you can explain why you’re sorry, maybe I’ll accept it,” you challenged, arching a brow and immediately grabbing his attention. You knew Jake’s competitive side and loved to play with it as a coaxing manner to get what you wanted.
You watched his eyes wavering just enough to make you wonder if your tactic would work that time. But then, he chuckled dryly, blinking away from your awaiting expression.
“I’m sorry for acting like that, Y/N.” He started. “I– I panicked,” his voice was subtle as a feather. If you weren’t alone and far from the noise happening in your living room, you doubt you would be able to hear it clearly. 
“Panicked?” you echoed, confusion knitting your brow, your head tilting just slightly. “Over what?”
Jake’s face turned a deeper shade of red, especially on his cheeks and on the top of his ears. You got even more puzzled, especially after he answered with just a single word.
“You.”
You. 
It hung in the heavy air as thick as a volcano’s smoke, deepening your confusion, your heart starting to beat faster and your hands getting sweaty. 
“Me? What do you mean?”
You didn't expect your voice to sound so quiet as you spoke, but you got somehow caught by surprise with how things turned out. 
So you really did something wrong?
“You… grew up, Y/N. You’re–” He struggled to find the right words, shifting uncomfortably once more, his eyes traveling between the floor, the table and his lap, never daring to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’re beautiful. And… more than that. You’re… You’re hot.”
An awkward and tense silence filled the room right after Jake’s stained voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, as if he wished he could swallow them back together with the knot on his throat.
Now that he had just verbalized the main reason for his behavior towards you, he was feeling extremely disgusting and pathetic. He could feel the weight of his own shame pressing down, and an almost nauseating guilt pushing at him; a reminder he was wrong for allowing you to go out from the safe and special spot as a “little sister” in his heart, to occupy a darker and more lustful one.
It wasn’t your fault, though. Jake would never in his life blame you for a mistake he had authorized to happen. This wasn’t just a fleeting, harmless slip; he had seen you, had filthy thoughts before fully realizing it was you. And afterwards he did nothing much to stop those thoughts from creeping back in, the only option being avoiding you instead of facing it as a true man.
He swallowed hard once more – becoming a natural habit at that point – and forced himself to look up for a brief moment. All he saw was your stunned expression, mouth slightly agape and eyes apparently trying to search for some kind of joke, to which it only fueled the growing dread inside him.
Jake’s mind was a spiral. The fragile line he had been teetering about you began to fall apart as he realized that you would probably cut him off completely, screaming at him the words he deserved to hear. 
A creepy, weird and disgusting man. 
His pulse quickened, panic creeping in with every second that you didn’t speak, an urge to break the silence immediately, as if maintaining his being in it would drive him completely insane. With that in mind, he opened his mouth to babble.
“I– I don’t expect you to understand. God, I wouldn’t even blame you if you decide to never speak to me again. I’m sure– I’m sure we can arrange an excuse to Jay about your study, or even tell the truth– I’m–” He cut himself briefly to look away from you, who still had your same expression. His hands were busy gesturing anxiously. “I know I crossed a very dangerous line. It’s so fucking wrong and– And I’ve tried to come up with anything to push it away, even ignore it. But then, there’s you.”
Jake’s voice faltered, as though his world was colliding, ending, as though he was on the verge of losing his mind somehow. 
He was.
“There’s always you, looking like some kind of goddess that makes me go insane.”
The realization of what you just heard made your pulse quicken. Jake’s babbling worked perfectly to ground you and, ironically enough, to send you back to heaven, as you felt like dreaming after hearing his first sayings. 
Over the years you thought about having Jake in other ways rather than just a friend or an older brother, but never quite grasping to it completely due to the small, yet existing age gap and the different stages of life drifting you apart. 
To acknowledge how Jake really felt towards you was similar to living in a vivid fever dream, it got you clenching your thighs, panties pathetically dampening just enough to make you shy, as if he would become aware of your body reacting to his words.
You opened your mouth to respond, to try to find any words that could make sense in between the mess of emotions happening inside you; relief, desire, passion. But before you could even begin, a familiar voice cut through the tension, as sharp as a knife, startling both of you as if you had been caught red-handed.
“How's study going?”
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After Jay broke into your studying session with Jake and consequently interrupted the development of your newfound possibility of relationship with the said guy, you couldn’t help but dive into a sea of frustration. 
Jake immediately panicked and ran away, muttering a lame excuse that he had things to take care of and he would catch up with you later, leaving you sitting there, bewildered, confused and angry – with him and with you brother, who even though had no fault, shattered your chances to voice out your side of the story and maybe, just maybe, get Jake to your bedroom.
Jay didn’t flinch a little, aware of how Jake could be impulsive and random with his spontaneous persona and let him go, smiling softly to you after gently stroking your hair and ask if you wanted to relax with him and the remaining guys, thinking you could use some of it after the long minutes you spent studying. 
You were quick to dismiss the offer, seizing the opportunity to excuse yourself to your room, pretending to be really tired and to need some time alone after reading so much physics hard stuff.
However, as you crashed into your bed and stuffed your head into the soft pillow, your body didn’t feel like soothing any time soon, your brain working overtime to remark each and every word uttered by Jake, his low voice as clear as crystal water as it repeated restlessly. 
You’re hot. A goddess. Makes me go insane. 
That night, you met a brand new and nameless sensation. It was close to frustration but layered with the tempting awareness of something you could nearly touch, yet not claim.
Jake ran away, as he always did, without even giving you the proper chance to tell him that, God, you felt the same – perhaps even worse.
His mere act of voicing those genuine, sultry words had already done enough to ruin your self-control – and panties, taking away the opportunity to express just how incredibly irresistible he looked, how you longed to devour every centimeter of his slightly sun-kissed skin, to taste his plush lips, to make him wholly yours.
You asked for Jake's number to Jay the next day, under the pretext of needing to get some extra materials and maybe schedule your following meetings, hoping for it to be reasonable enough. And though Jay willingly accepted and supported your idea, Jake partially ignored you, at most answering your texts with “ok” and “sure”, never leaving an opening for you to draw him into a longer conversation.
So when Jay served you a stack of pancakes on Monday, you expected everything to happen but what really unfolded. 
“I scheduled another study session with Jake today. That cool with you?”
The forkful bringing you a piece of your food froze midair, the assimilation of what Jay’s just said made your movements halt shamefully instantly as you raised your eyes only enough to encounter Jay’s relaxed face.
“Mhm?”
“Jake’s coming over after work today,” Jay repeated casually, munching his food. “I think he gets off around four, so he’ll be here when you’re back from your classes.”
Ok, you definitely – and unfortunately – had heard him right. A spark of excitement and an urge to get yourself dressed extra prettily for college rushed over your body as you straightened your posture on your chair, using of a simple nod to silent agree with the deal.
You feared your words would get stuck on your throat.
“Oh, and I’ll be working from home today, so you won’t be alone with him.”
All the efforts were made for you not to choke on your food, but the honey sauce dripping straight down your throat elicited a quiet, small cough from you. You gulped down whatever was on your way to voice out anything, and all you managed was to mutter a confused “Huh?”
Jay smirked at your reaction, but not really reading into it.
“You know, just in case,” he shrugged nonchalantly and your brow furrowed, stomach twisting with nervousness.
“Just in case of what, exactly?”
You damned yourself for using such a fearful tone, like a frightened kid that had hidden a secret from their parents, leaving gaps for an overinterpretation that Jay could try doing if he was devoted to completely understanding the strange way you were acting.
You deeply wondered if he knew about whatever happened with you and Jake that Friday, or worse, if he eavesdropped on Jake's confession about how he felt about you.
It wasn’t like Jay would be fine with Jake coming over if he did in fact know or heard the conversation. And knowing your brother, he would rather have a civilized and polite conversation with you instead of playing around. 
“I don’t know, Y/N,” Jay started, a glint of mischief twinkling in his eyes. “You hate physics and I called Jake to come teach physics to you. The other day, you were kneading that pizza dough like it owed you money. Don’t know what you’d do to someone who’s a walking physics encyclopedia.”
Your pulse quickened, but your shoulders loosened. Gladly, Jay had already moved on the subject, unbothered, yapping about how he preferred doing his job from home and how annoying it was to deal with paperwork in person. All you could do was to nod along, anxiously counting the minutes.
With almost absolute certainty, none of your classes that day could hold your attention. And so it was. The professors' words seemed like random sound waves, failing to form coherent sentences for you, and you had to fight the constant urge to get up from your chair and leave, even though you knew Jake wouldn't be there yet.
Mondays were exhausting. You had to attend multiple classes, and especially that day there were practical lectures that kept you stuck on campus later than usual. By the end of the day, despite the exhaustion, you were still buzzing with anticipation.
You practically ran back to the apartment you shared with your brother, trying not to make too much effort and break a sweat – after all, you wouldn't have time for a shower or to get dressed properly before seeing Jake.
You felt like a teenager nervously preparing to meet her crush in the hallways between classes; your hands were trembling, your whole body thrilling with excitement, as if each part of you was electrified with anticipation.
Your heart pounded relentlessly, as if each beat echoed louder than the last, straight into your eardrums. The closer you got to your shared apartment, the harder it became to calm your racing thoughts, and the overwhelming mix of excitement and nervousness almost made you dizzy when you grabbed the door knob and twisted it open. 
Jake was sprawled on your couch, golden specs casually resting on his face and his brown, silky hair poking to different places since he was playing with it nonchalantly while the other hand held his phone. His eyes raised up from the screen when he heard the sound of the door opening, and with a subtle smile he greeted you.
“Hi, Y/N.” 
Your gaze instinctively hovered across the room, searching for Jay’s presence. At the same time, you fought against the urge to make yourself comfortable with Jake on your couch. He looked so inviting, cozy and fluffy laying in there, his demeanor soft and relaxed, nearly pulling you close, drifting your thoughts away from reality.
It took seconds for it to hit harshly, as you remembered the intimacy that had once been so natural between the two of you no longer existed, and the possibility of reclaiming that closeness felt slightly out of reach. It was a bitter thought, one that reminded you how fragile things had become.
However, for Jake’s misfortune you weren’t one to give up so easily, now aware of his feelings and thoughts towards you, there was no way to back down so quickly. Not knowing he nourished a desire strong enough to make him opt to avoid you in order to get over it. 
“He’s in his office room,” Jake explained when noticed what you were doing, kindly breaking you out of your trance.
“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding awkwardly. Jake sat straight on the couch, eyes boldly locking into yours as he did so.
You licked your lips out of habit, a bit taken aback with the idea of being in a room alone with him again, the anxiety you had built up throughout the day exploding in your chest just like fireworks.
The slightest motion of your tongue dragging along your plump, cherry colored lips didn’t go unnoticed by Jake’s nervous gaze. His eyes flickered downwards right after, and you silently cheered when he took his time to appreciate your bare thighs in full display for him. 
You had chosen an outfit that was simple yet comfortable, but also bold, different from what you had planned for the day before knowing you would spend time with Jake; a relatively oversized sweater that would protect you from the gentle breeze of the day, paired with a short skirt that highlighted your rounded thighs – thighs you knew Jake would enjoy seeing.
And he so fucking did. The way he parted his lips, swallowed nothing, and shifted uncomfortably on his seat confirmed your theory. 
Jake’s cheeks warmed when he realized what he just did, checking you out carelessly and right in front of your beautiful eyes. He cleared his throat, ready to throw some random small talk to guide the situation to the real deal – the whole studying thing –, but you had other plans. 
“I’m not mad.” 
After years sharing moments with Jake, having him practically living in your house similar to a family member, you had gathered enough sources to know Jake was torturing himself with a guilt you didn’t see to be necessary, not when you desired him as much as he wanted you, not when things could be as simple as one plus one. 
Jake was smart enough to catch onto what you were referring to, still, he hesitated, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief. He remained silent, waiting for your following words when you opened your mouth and closed, as though struggling to find the best, right ones. 
Your feet moved towards his direction and you took the seat beside him, keeping a safe distance. A distance that would keep yourself under control not to jump on his lap, tug his hair with your hands while kissing him passionately, using your hips to rut onto his bulge, aiming to hear his lascivious noises.
Swallowing your impulsive thoughts back, deep on your throat, you continued. 
“I’m not mad that you…” Holding back a shy smile, you bit your lip. “I’m not mad that you think I’m hot.”
Your voice came out as quiet as possible. The fleeting sensation of being heard by your brother weighed heavy on the air, pushing you to keep it as hushed as you could. 
Once more, Jake shifted on his seat, his own fluster increasing after hearing you voicing out his last confession. He didn’t feel stupid, though. It was impossible to feel anything other than thrilled.
He couldn’t pinpoint precisely what turn that conversation with you would be taking; the small hint of fear creeped his chest, but the excitement of positively reading the situation was deliciously overgrowing it. 
“But we have to talk…” You tried to sound firm, yet gentle, not wanting to scare him away. The way your eyes rested on his face made Jake’s heart skip a beat. You were so fucking beautiful. “You know, I didn’t tell you about my part in this story.”
Jake felt his body untensing with your relaxed, tempting even, words; the atmosphere heavy but not with anything bad. It felt suffocating in the bestest way possible, as if a hundred of amazing possibilities could unfold, each of them having your lips pressing against his as a starter and his dick buried deep in you as a finisher.
“Do we?” Jake tilted his head to the side, eyes gleaming with teasing after the realization. The same behavior he would have with you was brought back in a snap, nonetheless, you doubted your strength to deal with it, especially when his two brown orbs showed a hint of something darker.  
“Yes.”
A quiet, feather-like whisper. It was all you managed to say, failing to keep up with your steady, collected image.
“Okay, we can talk,” he nodded softly, and though his eyes showed affection, the faint smirk adorning the corner of his lips triggered your inner core to pleasantly twist.
Jake leaned closer, now relaxed before your presence; your compliant demeanor easing his way through it, taunting his bolder side to shine brighter. Your breath hitched when his eyes wandered your face carefully, his body nearly pressing yours as he drank in your perfect features before gently grabbing your chin to pull you closer.
He was centimeters away from touching you where you needed him the most – firstly. Because your entire being craved for him. 
“But unfortunately, I have to teach you physics before, pretty.”
That was how you ended up sitting at your desk after announcing your arrival to your brother, saying you would be with Jake in your bedroom for studies purposes.
Bullshit.
Jake brought an extra chair to sit by your side, and you truly made double effort to keep your focus on whatever he was explaining, but his words sounded slurred, vague, like a baby talk. His voice and accent were unnecessarily attractive, inducing your head to concentrate on its sounds instead of the meaning. Not to mention his fucking kissable lips, so, so, so close, yet so far. 
Each time your eyes darted to the side, you caught a glimpse of his side profile. Distracting, beautiful, captivating.
Jake had a nose you swore it was sculpted by the finest, most talented artist; sharp and smooth just right, softly curved at the tip, gorgeously displayed on his handsome face. That high bridge triggered your most profound and dirty thoughts, your eyes dropping to a darker shade almost instantly as you got drunk on his features. 
Jake’s whole being was attractive, tempting, a living demon who now taunted your worst behavior and you loved every bit of it. Alongside that, the unveiling situation between the two of you was eating you alive, slowly consuming your mind.
After the little study session you agreed on talking about the dangerously unspoken matter, with the hope of resolving things. On your bed, if you were lucky.
You wanted to have Jake’s hands exploring your body, gripping and pulling you closer, pressing you against the mattress while fucking you from behind, hard, deep, fast, whatever he decided to. You needed his lips marking your neck, his face stuffed between your legs, his mouth working on your pussy while you screamed his name. 
You could almost feel how his tongue would work perfectly in your clit, licking, sucking and–
“And that’s how thermodynamics works. It’s amazing, isn’t it?” 
You blinked confused towards Jake, feeling just a little bad for not really enjoying your private lessons as much as he was. It was cute to see how talkative he became whenever physics was the topic, and extremely hot to witness his smart brain working in full motion to explain every word to you.
Nonetheless your attention span was long gone, ever since his scent started to intoxicate your senses, making you wish to have it all over your skin with his body hovering yours. 
“But of course you’d be paying more attention to my lips and my nose.”
You widened your eyes, speechless. Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head in a faux discontentment. You trembled on your seat, unconsciously moving back from the closeness of your bodies; there was a fear creeping in your head of losing your inner battle to the raw passion tingling your skin.
“Listen, Y/N. I’m really trying here. I’d appreciate it if you did some effort too.” 
Jake was once again teetering the same risky line, this time with less hesitation, his confidence bubbling as he realized you wouldn't be pushing him away.
The moment he caught your hungry your devouring him throughout the entire tutoring, how willingly to let him in you seemed to be, devoted to the idea of fucking under your brother’s roof, he threw his self control away and started to think with his other head. 
You gulped, eyes lowering to your notebook peacefully resting on your desk. 
“I’m sorry, Jake.”
“Y’know what?” Jake suddenly stood up, offering his hand with his gorgeous slender fingers full of silver rings for you to grab. “Com’ere.” 
Your squinted eyes flickered between his digits and his face, searching for some proper explanation that unfortunately you didn't receive. So you followed his steps, standing up as well and shivering with the touch of his mildly cold skin against yours.
With the way Jake grinned, your stomach tightened, fearing whatever he had on his mind. Trying not to be so obvious with your embarrassing reactions, you frowned.
“What are we doi–”
“The first law in thermodynamics is that energy can’t be destroyed or created, it can only change forms.”
He said his speech within his teacher-like tone once more, interrupting you without caring to explain why standing up and explaining it to you again would make the material magically settle inside your brain.
Especially when you wanted to settle on your bed with him on top of you.
“What the f–”
“So, if I do this,” Jake raised a hand, gently placing it on your right cheek. You winced and retracted a bit with the unexpected soft brush of his slightly cold skin on your, now, heated face. “Do you feel it?” He whispered, fingertips tracing the warm flesh underneath his touch, his body instinctively getting closer to yours as his eyelids softened. “The heat of your skin will work its way to make mine less cold, y’know? Mine is absorbing from yours, to stabilize our temperatures together. The energy isn’t being destroyed nor created, it’s transferred from one body to another until they find the perfect equilibrium.”
It was pathetic the way you nodded along, Jake’s words and presence reverberating throughout your body similar to a wave of pure pleasure, your eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and shock with this new method. 
So, physics can be interesting, huh?
“Now,” Jake got closer, his voice dropping an octave while the hand that held yours found comfort on your waist, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “Question: what happens when two equally heated bodies touch each other?” 
Jake’s face was just a few centimeters away from yours, his lips ghosting, tempting a kiss you wished to happen as soon as possible; he seemed to be testing the waters, glad that you allowed him to do so.
The way his warm breath tickled your skin was dizzying, yet addictive. You shivered, respiration quickening with the way Jake’s eyes dropped, almost closing, as he got charmed by your soft, plump and oh, so kissable lips.
There was no adequate explanation to how your body reflexively reacted to his stimulus, your hands traveling slowly to grip onto something as a way to ground yourself, finding the thin fabric of Jake’s shirt on your way through it. 
“Nothing–” You gulped when you started talking, because the simple motion had your lips grazing Jake’s. He nodded reassuringly, as a way to incite you to keep speaking, the grip on his shirt tightening. “Nothing changes.”
Your eyes lazily fluttered close and open, the tension nearly palpable in the air. Out of habit, you wetted your lips with your tongue; a habit that now got you brushing it against Jake’s lips as well. His breath hitched, surprised, but he didn’t stutter. 
“Yeah,” Jake muttered, letting his hand thread through your strands, tugging it gently. You moaned softly, lips parted, a small frown gracing your features. 
Jake drunkenly groaned, throwing caution and patience aside with your reaction. Fuck, his self control was down to hell and for seconds he forgot where he was, because you were everything and everywhere in his head. 
He could feel how tight his pants became as his dick twitched for some attention, hard and heavy.
“You’re a quick learner when there’s practice involved, aren’t you?”
Jake’s lips were now grazing featherly on the sensitive flesh of your neck, teasing to kiss but never truly giving in.
You didn’t even notice how much you were leaning into his touch, as within every tempting brush on your skin you melted deeper, growing impatient each passing second.
Your fingers boldly slipped underneath his shirt, tracing the subtle lines of the abs you dreamed of licking and kissing and sucking and… God, you were on the verge of crying out of desperation. Your fingernails dug harder into his skin, eliciting a jolt from Jake that immediately pressed you against himself in response.
“Please, Jakey–” You whimpered when you felt his hardened bulge poking you, together with – finally – his wet kisses on your neck, nibbling gently the area with an aching slow.
Jake chuckled in contact with your sensitive skin, loving the way you tilted your head to give him more access, loving the way you were needily pressing yourself on his body, loving the way your hands involved his waist firmly; goosebumps flushed over as he delighted in your sweet and lascivious noises and responses. 
A phantom of a smirk tugged the corner of Jake’s glistening lips as he trailed soft little pecks through your jawline and near to your mouth, laughing gently with the way you searched instantly for more with hooded eyes.
“Wan’ me to kiss you, pretty?” Jake asked, voice thick with raw desire. He now held you with both hands on your hips, one shamelessly lowering to your ass every so often, while yours glided over his chest until they reached his firm shoulders.
You watched Jake’s eyes flash with a mischievous spark and you promptly knew that you could play that game too. So instead of answering right away, you feigned the purest expression you could, batting your eyelashes deliberately as you looked up to him, big doe eyes twinkling with a playful innocence. 
Jake wavered under your gaze, breath twitching, clearly weak to your tactics already. You held back your smile, keeping your faux naivety; the single action fueling Jake’s craving deeper.
“Only if you want it too, Jakey.”
You had no right to sound so pure, as if you were immaculate, untouched, never once ruined, yet dripping with lust and desire. So fucking filthy. 
“Fuck, doll.” Jake muttered faintly, not holding back anymore, his jaw clenching as he harshly dragged you over the room, far from gently as he pushed you to bounce on the soft mattress of your bed. “I’ll kiss you,” he said, hovering on top of your body, the excitement bubbling pleasantly in your low area. “And then I’ll fuck you so, so fucking hard.”
You giggled, getting comfortable on your bed as Jake positioned himself between your legs, which hugged him naturally. As he lowered his face to do as he said, you smirked. 
“Is that a promise?”
Jake’s eyes darkened, pupils wide showing you a sea of unknown feelings you never thought you would witness with him. His lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, one hand trailing deliberately the curve of your hip, your waist, chest, until it was gently wrapped around your neck. 
“Bet.” 
Driven by a mutual need, Jake dived into you passionately, almost desperate. You let out an instantaneous satisfied moan with the feeling of his soft lips pressing harshly on yours, one hand flying to take place on his silky, thick strands, the other gripping his wrist, keeping his hand in place on your throat. 
It took seconds to have Jake’s wet tongue infiltrating the electric touch and unapologetically searching for yours while his body grinded just slightly against your clothed cunt, making it pulse in desperation, dampening the fabric of your panties.
You tried to remember if you had locked the door beforehand, the faintest peak of your moral appearing just to be completely vanished, forgotten due to the vibrations of Jake’s small noises; his groans sent signals straight to your throbbing core, each clutch of your fingers tangled on his locks igniting a new sound that you discovered to be your favorite. 
Jake tightened his fingers around your throat faintly, starting a path of sloppy kisses down to your neck and shoulders, his hot tongue savoring each piece of your exposed smooth skin, and everything you could do was to squirm underneath him, struggling to maintain your sounds low.
With your movement, you accidentally brushed your knee on Jake’s crotch area the exact same moment he released your throat, causing him to open-mouth moan and frown, lips now working on your covered breasts, busying his free hand to squeeze your hips; just the fleeting contact of his heavy, still clothed, dick against your body fueled your craving deeper, your hands gripping on his strands harder.
“Jake, can you please hurry up?” You said in between a moan when he nibbled your nipple over your shirt. “We– We can’t be caught.”
Jake looked up at you, beholding the view of your beautiful fucked out expression with just a few minutes of making out while his hands explored your body. He would bet millions that underneath your underwear, you had already made a mess – the thought alone enough to make him gulp, thrilled to feel your spongy drippy walls enveloping his throbbing length. 
“Newton’s third law,” Jake mumbled suddenly against your stomach, eyes glazed in yours that now showed a confused state, eyes sparkling with pure desire. He curled his fingers on the waistband of your sweatpants, lowering it enough to give him access to your laced underwear. “For every action, there’s a reaction.” 
His explanation didn’t do much for you to understand right away, your frown deepening asking why he would say that so out of the blue. But as soon as he pressed his fingers over your panties and started to draw circles on your clit, you kind of got it. 
“Shit,” you whispered within a whimper, rolling your hips forward as a way to get more of what Jake was offering you, making his lips curl with a satisfied grin. “I swear to G–God…”
The slowness of his movements got you sighing in frustration. It was clear he was playing with you – quite literally –, and the possibility of Jay hearing you two or even worse, bursting the door open and caughting you mid-act was as frightening as arousing.
Having to be quiet, to keep it down, to not raise suspicions. You clenched around nothing. Jake nearly felt it.
His tongue was constantly wetting his lips, mouth watering, his breath heavy, eager, like a starved man who had his favorite meal on full display but couldn’t do anything other than… watch.
You angrily propped yourself on your elbows, tugging Jake’s hair to pull him back to be face-to-face with you, his fingertips never stopping the circles on your cunt. Your lips were centimeters away from each other, eyes hooded, deepened in lust. Jake saw a remnant of your playful aura getting lost amidst the lewd words that came out of your mouth.
“You can’t keep up with your promises, I see,” you murmured, your voice low, sultry, laced with challenge; the smirk dancing on your lips heightened the defiance’s level, triggering Jake’s pulse to quicken. His breath caught as he arched an eyebrow “Should I ask you to leave so I can finish this myself?” You teased, pulling his head to the side by tightening your grip on his locks. “Are you all talk, Jaeyun?”
Jake froze for a brief moment, his mind working hard to connect your words, and the moment it did, his features hardened, utterly lured by your bait; jaw clenched, eyes darker, breath ragged. It dropped to a deeper shade of craving, raw and delightful.
Your core buzzed with anticipation and you unconsciously let out a gasp when Jake pulled you to lay back down on the soft mattress by the waist, hands immediately removing the last piece of cloth that covered your lower body, quickly to undress himself from his own shirt and jeans, exposing his torso and his hardened cock pressing against his underwear.
Absurdly hot. 
Jake was absurdly hot. 
A single silver necklace graced his beautiful neck in contrast with his subtly tanned skin, his chest, toned enough to drive you insane, rose and fell faintly. The way his perfect v-line drew your attention towards his underwear seemed almost purposeful, the stained portion on the thin fabric around his tip got your mouth watering. One thing you were sure of: Jake was big.
He smirked with the way you devoured him whole with your filthy gaze, feeling as much wanted as he desired you too. He playfully dropped his eyes down to his own cock just to glance at you before getting completely naked, catching just enough of your reaction over his bare body.
You had little to no time to appreciate the view as Jake hovered over you quickly, propping himself in between your spreaded legs. Your eyes gleamed with longing and your mouth fell agape when Jake started to glide his dick on your wet folds. He couldn’t hold back a groan with the feeling too, eager to get your pussy hugging his shaft.
“Condom?” He asked, lips kissing the corner of your mouth while waiting for your answer about where to find the said protection. Your immediate reply got him throbbing.
“No.”
Jake fully halted his hips, looking you dead in the eye, and when he saw nothing other than certain, he groaned. “Fuck, pretty. You can’t say th–”
“Raw, Jaeyun.” You repeated yourself, fingernails digging deep on his biceps, a moan escaping from your lips when his heavy cock brushed your clit.
“Damn,” he mumbled against your neck, aligning his length within your pulsing, drippy hole, aching to be fulfilled.
As Jake’s tip pressed against you, a messy kiss took place of your mouths in order to muffle your noises, sloppy and hot, tongues everywhere, teeth pressing each other’s bottom lip harshly, caring little to nothing about hurting.
You whimpered with the feeling of him filling you so good, going deeper and deeper each passing second. When he finally buried himself completely, a groan got lost in between your kisses, and he kept still while you adjusted, though it was extremely hard to wait when you tightened your walls so perfectly around him. 
“You– You feel so good,” he muttered against your lips, voice weak, losing himself in the feeling with his face contorting in pure pleasure as he licked and sucked your bottom lip, asking for more kisses.
The wording and how he said it got you clenching more and Jake felt it right away, your eyes fluttering close as he didn’t hold back and started thrusting on you slowly. He was so deep and intense on you, yet deliberate, a pacing you would curse if you weren’t enjoying that much. 
A soft knock on your bedroom door interrupted the blissful moment, panic instantly taking over your faces as you widened your eyes and gasped, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand. 
“Shit,” you whispered, looking at the closed door over Jake’s shoulder, your heart beating loud inside your chest.
You never prayed so hard for a door to be locked.
“Y/N?” Jay calmy called out from the other side.
“Answer him.” Jake whispered demandingly against your cheek, enjoying it a bit too much for your liking, especially because if you two got caught, it wasn’t just you who would get screwed. 
His eyes scanned your expression, how heavy was your breathing, how bright with fear your eyes shone, although there was a thick layer of pleasure not hiding your enjoyment of the situation. 
“Yeah?” You tried your hardest to sound steady and not stained, but it became a difficult mission when Jake was pushing himself even deeper within each deliberate roll, clearly searching to hit your sensitive spot. 
“Are you alright? Did Jake leave already?”
Your eyes darted over to Jake, who was keeping the grind slow, painfully slow. You arched an eyebrow, not saying a word as you waited for the man on top of you to decide if he was going to lie to his best friend or not.
Jake smirked.
“No, I’m still here,” he kind of shouted, biting his bottom lip to contain a whimper when you tugged his hair at the same time you squeezed him with your walls. After realizing his weakness of having his locks being pulled, you started to use it as an advantage. “And she’s fine, we’re–” he interrupted himself because of the quiet moan that escaped your parted lips, forehead resting on yours, the fear of being heard creeping stronger, fueling, feeding his arousal to the extreme. “We’re wrapping things up.”
Jake managed to let it out in one go, luckily and supposedly believable enough for Jay not to try open the door or ask any of you to do it. 
“Oh, um, okay… I just finished my work,” Jay said casually. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
Oh, great. Jay’s room. The one next door. 
“Alright, bro,” Jake was the only one able to speak, especially because you had now your teeth pressing on his shoulders as a way to keep yourself quiet. “See you in a few, then.”
You two not-so-patiently waited for the sound of Jay’s footsteps to fade far enough down the hall before continuing, Jake’s eyes filled with teasing when he looked back at you and immediately started to faster his thrusts, taking in from your instant response of curving your back with lips parted, the slightest moan escaping from them.
“Shh, baby girl. Don’t make any noises, yeah?” Jake whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your skin. With the way his fingertips traced softly your thighs, only to harshly grip into your flesh and pound deeper, you couldn’t hold back your whimper, wincing. “Shh…” He shushed again, an obvious smirk adorning his plump lips that now rested on swollen ones, his low voice causing your whole body to feel like on fire, skin tingling in despair.
You wanted to scream his name so bad.
“J–Jake…” You moaned underbreath, struggling to keep it quiet. Jake chuckled, amused by your reckless behavior.
“Do you want your brother to hear us, sweetheart?” He asked, filthy, feigning a mocking tone. “I don’t think he’d like to know how deep into you I’m in right now.”
With that, he thrusted once more, hitting your sweet spot right away. You nearly cried as you threw your head back, walls clenching around his dick furiously, fingernails sinking into his flesh, back arching.
Jake grinned, in complete awe with your surrendered, fucked up form, wishing so bad to be able to get more of you – your screams, your whimpers, you chanting his name, anything. He just knew you would sound even hotter. 
“Such a dirty little girl. Dying for someone to hear us, huh?” 
“N–No…” You whined, pathetically shaking your head and softly smacking his shoulder as you got lost in yourself. You felt your body starting to convulse as Jake kept on hitting your g-spot over and over, barely noticing he had his forehead resting on yours again, his hard breathing blowing harshly on your face. “Can’t– So big–”
You rolled your eyes with the speed of Jake’s hips increasing. He wanted to go harder and faster, but the slapping sounds were already growing too loud, teetering the edge of getting caught a bit too much. Not to mention the blend of quiet moans, whimpers and groans you both exchanged in between pants and messy kisses.
Within minutes Jake felt the coil on his stomach tightening, his release was near and by the way you started to sound desperate, you were close too.
“I’m not gon’ last much longer, pretty,” Jake hissed when you wrapped your legs around his hips and pushed him deeper, helping him to maintain the rhythm of his thrusts. “Fuck...”
You fluttered your eyes open – didn’t even remember when you had closed it – right on time to catch a glimpse of Jake’s necklace dangling close to your face as he propped himself up to ease his pushes, his sweaty hair part sticking to his forehead, part hanging down, grazing softly on your nose. 
The overwhelming feeling of Jake’s burying himself deep into you, filling up each centimeter inside your cunt, his scent all over your senses, his sweet and hot silent moans, the way he had a pleasant frown gracing his features, every now and then biting his lip.
You felt your orgasm building up in a delightful, electrifying wave that flushed your trembling body.
“I wanna–”
“Come to me, baby,” Jake urged you, his own climax teetering the edge, voice cracking. “Wan’ feel you creaming my cock.”
A mild louder noise escaped your lips as you shivered, legs shaking with the amount of pressure your body was releasing. Jake bursted right after your juices coated his length, stuffing you up with his warm seed.
Your heavy breaths filled the room for a while. Jake’s tired body pressing against yours within an intimacy that made your heart flutter, realization hitting that you just had fucked your crush, who just happened to be your brother’s best friend.
You closed your eyes, a sting of a bittersweet feeling growing inside your chest. 
“We still need to talk.”
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The talk never really happened, since the constant visits unfolded your relationship with Jake better than you expected.
It seemed to be a no strings attached type of relationship, with you and Jake kissing and fucking anytime you had the chance to in between your tutoring classes.
You couldn’t help but feel guilty, and foolish to some extent, because tasting Jake's body and mouth awakened the same feelings of love you once buried deep within you, feelings that you now had to bury again, fully aware that they weren’t nearly reciprocated.
Jake probably saw you as woman he could fuck, and you thought you could live with that.
Your encounters with Jake became as usual as your classes, and gratefully Jay obliviousness blinded him from the real thing happening under his roof, because in no world you would need everyday physics lessons, even with your tough relationship with it. 
At some point you started to believe that your tactics to restrain yourself around Jake had been perfected.
When Jake changed his behavior with you, avoiding you at parties and the other events where you both accidentally crossed paths, Jay never suspected a thing. First, because he knew how busy Jake was with his work, and second, because he believed friendships were flexible and often riddled with uncontrollable nuances – meaning, you and Jake were simply going through a phase where things weren’t aligning.
It became routine to pretend you were still in the same cycle, with Jake acting as a casual friend who was just helping you with your studies enough to pass the course.
Jay had no idea you had promised Jake that you would only let him eat you out if you aced your exams – although you would let him do it anyway.
It was just so fun to watch him throw tantrums at you, whining how much he needed to feel your cunt pulsing and dripping on his tongue. You couldn’t deny the excitement of receiving a head from Jake was big; the way he kissed you and how high bridged his nose was, were enough proof that he would do a hell of a job.
As the semester was reaching its end, your anxiety grew.
You felt secure in most of your subjects, because even though Jake was actively present in your life, you managed to find out time to focus on your individual studies and felt confident enough in them.
But then there was physics.
The one you were supposedly studying, locked in the room with Jake. The one you learned while feeling the heat of his body against yours, his soft whispers, groans in your ear as his hands explored every centimeter of your skin.
It was undeniable that Jake's practical method worked wonders, and that was exactly why you took the lead and suggested that for that day's study session.
“You wanna do what?”
You and Jake were sitting across each other in your room: Jake on your bed and you at your desk chair. He had just arrived for your tutoring of the day and you immediately greeted him with a suggestion that had him with the most dumbfounded, in disbelief, shocked kind of expression written all over his face.
“Suck you off while you explain the basics of that shit,” you repeated yourself casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Quantum.” Jake pointed, his eyebrows skyhigh at that point. 
“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling innocently while playing with a pen and wiggling your legs off the chair.
“You want me to teach you the basics of quantum physics while you suck me off?” He echoed, still trying to completely comprehend your proposal. 
“That’s exactly what I just said.”
It was an undeniable proposal, right?
Jake blinked, his brain falling into a dangerous short-circuit. To imagine you, kneeled in front of him, his dick buried deep in your throat, free-fucking would be his wettest dream come true.
However, there was a big chance of him losing control of his sounds – and himself – the very moment your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, tongue playing with his sensitive length as your gorgeous doe eyes looked up to him.
Jake damned himself for getting hard just by the thought of it.
“And how does that help you… Practically talking?”
He was really trying to logical think and follow your thought process, shifting on his seat while his mind traveled away.
The whole fucking while studying was a thing not only because you both wanted it to happen, but mostly because Jake could partially dodge the creeping guilt, knowing his work was getting done, even if that meant him shoving his dick inside you while doing so – a win-win situation with his peculiar, yet effective technic. 
With that particular request, he couldn’t quite pinpoint where the logic leaned, triggering his mind to wonder if you were getting dangerously close to crossing the unspoken line that came with your agreement.
Jake’s eyes tracked as you stood up and walked close to him, casually sitting on his lap, arms naturally wrapping around his shoulders.
“Well…” You trailed off, fingers slowly and shamelessly drawing a soft line across his chest, feeling his breath hitching beneath your touch; your eyes dropping to a darker shade of lust, shifting the whole atmosphere. “Hearing your moaning voice would… Y’know, help me internalize it,” you smirked, letting each word teasingly hang in the thick air.
Jake’s eyes narrowed with a spark of intrigue, head tilting slightly as he searched for a hint of humor or mischief in your gaze that would give away your plan. But you held his stare, unwavering, eyes burning with a confidence that left no room for doubt, no suggestion of play.
“So…” He murmured within a gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing drawing your attention briefly. “You’d remember the explanation… Because I’m…”
“Moaning it.”
The wording left your lips light as a feather, yet as sultry as the taste of the finest wine – tempting, subtle, delicious. Jake leaned in, failing to ignore your bait, his jaw clenching as his grip on your waist tightened; a quiet curse escaped him, underbreath, the moment you busied your lips on his sensitive neck. 
“Fuck…”
You rolled your hips just slightly, teasing a touch you wouldn’t be giving to him. Not so easily.
“What do you say, mhm?” You kissed Jake’s jawline, his chin, the tip of his nose and then his plush lips. 
There was something about the way he kissed you back, deliberate and tender, as if you were everything he waited for his whole life.
After days of sharing intimacy, you began to notice that sometimes Jake kissed you like a lover that long dreamed of you – mouthful and yearning, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Like a soft breeze fanning your skin on a warm summer afternoon – comfortable enough to make you sigh, yet stirring something deep. Like the glow of the sun fading beneath the horizon at dusk – beautiful, fleeting, and full of possibilities. Like a first lover – fear of losing the sight of you and unforgettable. 
Jake kissed you like he was slowly allowing himself to fall in love with you. And you didn’t know yet, but he was.
Each attach of lips elicited new waves of euphoria through your veins as your feelings emerged without a proper warning, kicking the front door of your heart open and making a delightful mess.
You couldn’t help the strong pump of your heart and the flutter on your stomach the moment Jake crossed your sight. How thrilled you got when scheduling your meets, not caring about the studying neither the fucking; eager to kiss, to hug, just to have Jake close.
In that very moment you wished, more than ever, for him to feel the same way. You could sense the desire in his every touch, in the way his body pressed flush to yours, demonstrating how much he needed you, how much he was losing himself in you, like magnets.
You could feel it in the way his hands roamed, the warmth of his touch, the intensity in his gaze. It was tangible, undeniable. Jake wanted you. But was it enough? Did Jake want more than just a moment, or was it just an ephemeral passion, burning brightly before fading into memory like ashes?
On the other hand, Jake’s mind slipped into a haze, zoning out while drowning deeper in the warm and cozy ocean that was you.
He found himself lost in the memory of your first kiss – fueled by a mixture of fear and excitement. Not the fear of being caught, but the terror of realizing he had already fallen too intensely, his entire being consumed by the intoxicating pull of you. And he did nothing, nothing to fight back or to swim back to the top, utterly, willingly under your spell.
You had him wrapped around your fingers from the moment you first crossed paths at that party. 
Jake had tried to keep his safe distance, as a way of respecting your brother’s implicit boundaries and you, the little girl he grew up with. But mainly because he was completely aware that once he succumbed to the temptation of you, there would be no turning back.
When you both embarked on this brand new journey of friends with benefits, Jake knew that he could end up losing himself more than he should.
He believed you deserved to be treated like a queen – to be adored and desired as the most precious thing in the world. And he could be that person if you allowed him to.
But it was as clear as crystal water that you didn’t see him in that way. Not when you withdrew from acts of intimacy, not when you pulled back as the kiss grew too passionate, too full of love, not when you showed that you weren’t ready to take another step forward together.
Jake didn’t mind being used for your pleasure, not at all. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement: you got your physics lessons and some good orgasms, and he got to have you for a brief moment, just long enough to satisfy the hunger he felt. Then he would return, craving more, locked in a cycle he knew all too well, hoping his excuses of giving extra hours of teaching would be enough to keep you by his side just a little bit more.
That first taste had done more than ignite a flame; it had marked him, like a brand, leaving him completely, irrevocably at your mercy. Jake was yours. You just didn’t know yet.
That one kiss lingered painful longer than any other. When you finally pulled away, your breath came in short bursts and you were unsure whether it was the intensity of his touch or how quickly your heartbeats increased in such a short span of time.
Jake wore a lovestruck expression that had your body responding immediately – heat spreading through your chest, leaning forward, wanting more of whatever he had to offer.
“You pull me like magnets, you know that?” Jake casually and suddenly dropped in, voice barely above a whisper but thick with something unfamiliar to you so far, something that got your stomach fluttering with an emotion you didn’t want to name yet, scared of being real.
You swallowed down your immediate reaction, trying to regulate your breath while being torn between letting your heart follow along or keeping your feet on the ground, afraid of reading too much into that unusual moment that was just starting to unfold before you.
“That’s not today’s subject,” you managed to mutter back, a tinge of anguish holding onto your voice as your eyes traced Jake’s handsome features. 
You could lose yourself in him for hours and never grow tired. He had the most perfect face, soft puppy brown eyes filled with sincerity, prominent cheekbones that constantly shone brighter when he was smiling big, showing off his pretty dental arch with the slightest curl at the end of his plush lips. His sharp figure juxtaposed perfectly with the softness of his nature. Sweet, tender, endlessly loving.
For you, it was effortless to fall for Sim Jaeyun.
“When would it be, then?”
Jake had gathered all his strength and courage to throw that question at you, wavering just a little when you answered with a dumbfounded frown and a quiet “What?”.
“When the fact that you pull me like magnets, opposites but still ridiculously attracting me towards you, would be the subject?” He asked, his hands pressing harder on your hips as if he was trying to ground himself out of his nervousness, as if he was struggling to not falter. 
You arched an eyebrow, an unconscious smile creeping on your mildly swollen lips as your breath hitched. Before you could reply with another question, Jake continued, making it difficult to keep thinking coercively, since each of his words traveled straight into your heart.
“‘Cuz, pretty, it’s pathetic,” he chuckled as softly as his voice came out, head leaning to the side. “When I’m with you I feel like I’m a particle in motion, constantly accelerating in pure devotion,” Jake's orbs were so, so filled with softness and fondness as he kept on saying. One of his hands cupped your cheek and he brushed your lower lip. “You make me feel like I’m at the center of a black hole. No matter how much I try to escape, I’m just pulled deeper into your gravity.”
With that you giggled, head being thrown back as the flustered heat creeped on your cheeks quickly, your eyes briefly flickering away from Jake’s loving ones for a moment before glazing into them again, this time intensely exposing your vulnerable side.
You finally lowered your guard, allowing those same feelings you had been nurturing for years to come into the light to face the beautiful, thrilling possible outcome.
“Did you just confess your feelings for me using physics metaphors, Sim Jaeyun?” You asked with a playful glint in your eyes and a teasing smile that had Jake nuzzling his flustered face on your neck, holding back his own shy smile within a bit on his lower lip.
“Yes. I, indeed, did,” he muffled against your skin, making you shiver a bit.
Your heart vibrated with pure, unexpected joy. Your afternoon had a turn you weren’t waiting for, but now that it did, relief flooded your senses. Jake had feelings for you too.
Another giggle escaped your lips. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined Jake confessing his feelings to you, let alone as you sat on his lap, sharing intimacy and knowing you were the ultimate reason for his body to be so reactive. Couldn’t be more perfect, everything seemed too good to be true.
With a light lean back, enough to pull Jake away from your embrace, your eyes dropped to drink in his perfectly drawn full lips. The air shifted, this time, not only with a momentary lushness or vague desire how it used to be, but carried with a ton of something close to love as well.
You rolled your hips and Jake groaned, sensitive to you already.
“So,” you purred, your teeth sank into your bottom lip, a mischievous grin tugging the corner of your mouth as you pushed yourself forward, making Jake’s heart flutter as his back encountered the soft mattress of your bed. “Does my pretty physics boy want me to suck him off while he lays down or…?”
Jake’s body instantly winced with the way your eyes darkened and how velvety your voice came out of your gorgeous lips; the nickname didn’t go unnoticed either, causing his dick to twitch inside his pants.
Your touch feathery, yet trailing flames through his covered chest stirred up the deepests feelings he used to hide. Jake took in your reaction as a quiet yes or maybe a subtle “me too”. Knowing your nature so far, you would rather give him a head, as in a taste of your affection, than admitting out loud you liked him back.
Little did he know you were on the verge of panic, fighting the urge of shying away because, although he just confessed to you, you felt pathetically nourishing feelings way more intense towards him, with your heart pounding loud and unsteady and an overwhelming ache not-so-quietly overtaking your being.
You craved to give Jake your everything, to devour every centimeter of him if that meant being close – closer than words alone could ever take you. There were no syllables together to form a proper sentence that showed a quarter of what it felt to love Jake.
“I– I honestly don’t know…” Jake murmured as soft as fluffy clouds, contrasting your demeanor at that moment, with your lips now placing slow and soft kisses all over the sensitive flesh of his neck.
You chuckled when Jake started to squirm a little, his hands nervously gripping on your ass and quiet moans escaping his lips as you took your time to enjoy his warmth with your mouth. There was something so arousing about how Jake was always reactive to your touches, either the lightest or the more intense ones, his body clearly faltering deliciously under your control. It made your panties wet quite instantly. 
When you started to nibble that same area, you also felt Jake bucking his hips upwards, as a way to get some friction to satisfy his neglected dick. Jake was very sensitive on his neck and didn’t have to admit it out loud; the fact that he was getting harder and harder underneath you was enough to show it. 
His puppy eyes lighted up with an adorable blender of curiosity and excitement under your piercing gaze when you lifted yourself to straddle, knees on each side of his hips. The same gaze roamed his whole clothed body as if you could see through it, ravishing each small portion with adoration.
Jake had an extra cute and confused expression taking over his face when you suddenly stood up and let him go out of the warmness of your body, a playful grin dancing on your lips as you softly tapped his thigh before saying.
“Get comfy, Jakey,” there was a thick layer of desire on your voice blended with a hint of mischievousness that got Jake’s dick throbbing while he did as you said, propping himself on his elbows to properly lay on your bed.
You positioned yourself on top of him again, smiling cheekily as you lowered your face just enough to purr against his ear, your hot breath making him wince. “Cuz I’m about to make you forget your own name.”
The way Jake’s eyes widened after hearing your non-filtered filthy words had you giggling, his Adam’s apple attractively bobbing up and down as he swallowed, your lips attaching to it because you truly wanted to devour Jake as whole. 
“But Jay–” He tried to reason with you, his hands betraying his rational side as he intensified the grip on your ass once again, pulling you down so he could rut against you; his pants growing uncomfortably tighter each passing second.
“Shh,” you shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his plump lips before shaking your head. “He’s not home,” you added, planting a few kisses along his neck, jawline and lastly on his lips, propping yourself up on your arms, one on each side of Jake’s head.
A low moan escaped Jake at the sight of your fierce, determined gaze, fearing he wouldn’t be able to handle whatever you had prepared in your mind. You stared at him like a predator about to strike a prey, and damn, you looked so unbelievably sexy doing it.
“It’s just the two of us.”
Just for a few brief moments, he thought, considering adding. But you seemed more unwavering than ever to follow through with your plan, and honestly? Jake didn’t care anymore.
Not when you slowly stripped him down until only his underwear remained. Not when you were kissing and licking every centimeter of his chest and abdomen, your enchanting eyes giving innocent, pure glances that contrasted sharply with your every move. Not when he could feel your hands deliberately exploring every part of his warm skin, leaving trails of burning desire that were far too overwhelming for him to remain still.
When you paused at the waistband of his underwear, all Jake could do was breathe heavily, bite his lip, and watch you expectantly, his airways feeling like closing as you finally gave him the freedom he needed. 
“You have such a beautiful and big cock, Jakey,” you hummed with a smirk, tongue wetting your lips as you felt your mouth watering. Jake groaned when you grabbed the base and started pumping it, painful slowly, smearing the leaking precum to lubricate. “I’d love to feel it down my throat.”
And without a warning or leaving him to properly think about your words, you gave a long, savoring lick of his veiny length just to suck at the tip, eliciting an immediate moan within a thrust forward searching for more contact.
You kept swiping your tongue across his throbbing hardened dick, always finishing with a pop on the very end, and when you felt like your spit and his arousal had coated it enough to ease your movements, you opened your mouth wide to take him whole, each centimeter causing Jake’s body to tremble and his voice to falter in between his groans.
When you had your nose bumping his lower stomach, you stood still, feeling Jake’s hands caressing your hair kindly. You had to use your everything to remember to breathe with your nose, especially when the view of Jake’s head being thrown on the pillow as he, himself, struggled to regulate his own breathing was unfolding right before your eyes. 
Jake's body at that point was flaming hot, sweat dripping onto his forehead while his free hand clutched the sheet in a way to keep him sane, though your warm cavity embracing his dick, up and down, was leaving no room to maintain the silence. 
“Fuck, baby–” His voice was hoarse, consumed by the indescribable sensation of the way you took him so pleasurably, so skillfully, so delightfully. “T–Taking me so well…”
He waved his hips just slightly with his hands still on your head, bucking against your throat and unintentionally making you gag. He didn’t feel sorry at all, not when you kept on your pace, barely giving a thought about it, even stirring a muffled moan out of you.
A choked whimper escaped Jake’s swollen lips as he felt your throat pressing against his sensitive tip again. It was bizarre how it seemed like you had been molded just for him, and only him. Jake wanted you in every possible way and was grateful because you seemed to want him just as desperately.
You increased the rhythm little by little with hollow cheeks, giving some more attention with your mouth to Jake’s reddened tip, tongue pressing at the slit every once and a while as your hands worked on the base and his balls. 
There was a thin string of morality that held Jake in reality, preventing him from moaning your name – though he wanted so badly to –, but he couldn’t help the following whimpers and small cries that left his throat, the flutter on his stomach indicating he was getting closer. 
You noticed it almost right away after so many moments together. Jake always started to whine in between his noises and his body would shake within each minimal stimulus, squirming like he was growing desperate. So you quickly repositioned yourself, supporting your weight with your arms on the bed and staying still, eyes blinking expectantly at Jake, waiting.
“Why did you stop–” Jake cut himself when he propped his head up from the pillow to look at you, another half-choked groan slipping out his parted lips when he caught the view. “Don’t tell me you want me to…”
You nodded, still waiting. Jake chuckled, in pure disbelief and desire, because you just had held yourself with your tongue poking out of your mouth, expecting him to simply throat-fuck you.
The way you were just… staring, patiently idling until Jake had your hair threaded through his slender fingers to finally move was an extremely alluring, sultry sight.
“You have no idea of how sexy you look right now,” he muttered under his breath, lowering your head while resting on his free elbow, because there was no way in hell he would lose the enticing scene you were just about to give him. 
Jake didn’t know he would be able to endure much longer of that treatment you were giving him, his body extra sensitive as he bobbed your head up and down his cock; free using your body for his own pleasure sounded a lot out of his league and he took a mental note to repay later. 
It took just seconds in that new position for you to have Jake rolling his eyes back with his mouth falling open, a quiet moan escaping as he speeded up his hands on your head before forcing you all the way down, pressing the tip of his throbbing cock on your throat while the thick ropes of his release filed straight down your throat.
You kept steady, motioning the swallowing movement to ride Jake through his high; it felt amazing to have him shaking in between random waves underneath you, soft whines coming out of his parted lips while the grip on your hair tightened.
As soon as he loosened the said grasp, you finally removed his now a bit softened cock out of your mouth, kissing it briefly before moving up to settle yourself on Jake’s chest. 
“That was insane,” he whispered in between small pants, involving you with his arms. You cared little to nothing about his sweat sticking to you, knowing you both would have to take a quick bath before Jay got home. 
“I know,” you replied back with a grin, looking at him and kissing his lips with passion, now free from your own fears’ restraints. 
You used to avoid sharing too many intimate moments with Jake, the aftercare barely happening due to your constant excuses to run away, scared of falling deeper into something you couldn’t really grasp at. Not until that day. 
It felt great to experience such loving touches without having to run away – light as sweet breeze fanning your face, your heart pounded in joy inside your chest, stomach fluttering with dancing butterflies.
You suddenly giggled, parting the kiss to glance at Jake with your adorable, playful eyes. He shot you back a tender gaze, waiting for your following words.
“You didn’t teach me about quantum,” you quirked an eyebrow and Jake immediately widened his eyes in panic.
“Oh, shit.”
You laughed at his dramatic reaction, at how he wanted to leave the bed to grab his clothes and try to use the last minutes of your tutoring session to teach you anything.
“Calm down, big boy,” you pulled him back. “Jay’s probably not even at home yet.”
As if you had summoned him, a knock on your door got you and Jake startled. 
“Y/N?”
Both of your bodies tensed immediately. With a jolt, Jake was rushing over to get his clothes from the floor and wear them as quickly as possible while you frantically patted down your hair and smoothed the wrinkled fabric of your shirt, wiping away any hint of lingering fluids from the corner of your mouth.
“Coming!” You shouted, hurrying towards the door.
You cleared your throat, giving a final, stealthy glance over your shoulder to make sure Jake was, thankfully, no longer naked. When you opened the door, you greeted Jay with an overly bright, oh-so-forced smile, praying he would buy your attempt at casualness.
“Hi!” 
“…Is everything alright? I heard some noises. It sounded like someone was in pain…” he replied, his brows knitting in concern.
“Uh…” Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened comically, your brain nearly visibly overheating, struggling to process an acceptable explanation. 
You could closely feel Jake’s gaze burning on your back as the realization that Jay might have heard pretty much everything.
“It was me!” Jake interjected, cutting through the awkward silence with an impressive smoothness. “I, uh, stubbed my toe on Y/N’s bed frame when I was heading to the bathroom,” he added with a sheepish chuckle.
“Oh,” Jay replied, nodding with an air of understanding that sent a wave of relief through your tense shoulders, your smile naturally coming back to your face. “That makes sense.”
However, Jake was naive enough to notice how his best friend’s eyes dropped briefly, as if scanning you two, a faint, knowing look flashing across his face before he added with a small, friendly smile
“I’ll leave you two. Don’t wanna interrupt your… Studies.” 
“Thanks!” You were quick to answer. Almost too quick. “We’re almost finished!” Your voice was stained enough to raise suspicions but you opted to ignore it.
As the door clicked shut, Jake exhaled with a low mutter, his fingers scratching through his hair. “I think he knows.”
“What!?” You exasperated, though trying to maintain your voice low. “There’s no way!”
Jake’s lips curled in a fond smile as he studied your adorable disbelief expression, hands finding comfort on your waist. For someone who just had partially sucked his soul out of his body through his cock, you were acting a bit almost innocent. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease you, his fingers drawing circles on your hips.
“Did you really think he bought that excuse?” he chuckled softly, eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Of course he did!” You stomped your foot, crossing your arms.
Jake's hands slid from your waist just to gently unfold your arms, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you closer.
“I wish you were right, pretty girl, but I don’t think we’ve convinced him this time,” Jake said and sighed, your cheeks warming when he used a finger to tuck a strand of your messy hair on your ear. Your pout deepened and Jake giggled. “Who the hell moans when getting hurt, sweetheart?” He murmured, his voice soft, but his lips twitched in a playful smirk.
“I mean,” you started, flustered but trying to be reasonable, “there are probably people who–” Jake cut you off with a quick peck on your lips, startling you into silence as your protest dissolved into a surprised smile. The sweetness of the gesture caught you off guard, and a good warmth bloomed in your chest.
Definitely you would have to get used to that.
“I don’t think he bought it, pretty,” Jake eyes traced over your features, his smile lingering longer as he studied each part of it. He caressed your cheek, brushing your bottom lip before kissing you, a delicious shiver running down your spine as he did so. “But it’s fine, yeah? We’ll figure out something.”
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The woman staring back at you in the mirror was expressing everything but “I’m casually going to study.” Sure, you had chosen a chill outfit, taking advantage of the sweet autumn breeze to wear one of your cozy sweaters, but you had left your legs bare, pairing it with a short skirt that framed your thighs perfectly. Perfectly enough to drive Jake insane.
It was amusing, thrilling even to see how he now reacted so openly, nearly pathetically to your provocations. Anytime you found yourselves in a safe space – mainly your room or the living room when you were absolutely sure Jay wasn’t home – Jake would unleash a stream of shameless obscenities adoring you, his hungry gaze devouring your body without a care in the world. It always earned a laugh from you before you both gave in to the heat of the moment, leading to a long, intense kiss. 
Today, you didn’t know for certain if Jay was home, and frankly you didn’t want to find out either. If he was, he would probably see you and question where you were going, an endearing yet slightly overprotective habit of his. So, you walked through the house as quietly as possible, practically on tiptoes, hoping he had been held up at work or had gone out with his friends, as he usually did on Fridays.
The evening was just setting in, and Jake had mentioned earlier that Sunghoon and Heeseung were going out that night, which was the main reason you had felt comfortable enough to head over – freedom. And, admittedly, because your finals were starting next week, and you genuinely wanted to review a few things with him, even – and luckily – if that meant to have his breathy moans brushing against your ear as he fucked you dumb.
With your nervous eyes hovering the apartment in search of anything that resembled your brother’s presence, you finally reached the door, clicking it open with a relieved sigh.
However, fate had other plans for you.
“Where are you going?”
You startled and stopped immediately on your tracks, turning in your heels with an awkward smile to see Jay standing near the dinner room door frame with a confused expression. You had forgotten that he normally sat there while working on boring stuff on his phone sometimes, where he could definitely see you passing by.
“Um... To Jake's.” You quietly told. “Y’know, my exams start on Monday, so…”
Jay arched an eyebrow, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes roamed your body, his frown deepening within each passing second. Now you damned yourself for choosing such a short skirt.
With a brief nod after his silent inspection, he muttered. “Ok.”
You squinted, tilting your head, your expression shifting to something almost investigative as you struggled to read Jay's reaction – a calmness that felt almost unsettling, like the lull before the storm. You half-expected him to ask dozens of questions, and the fact he didn’t got you wavering, stomach twisting in a bitter anticipation.
“Okay…?” you echoed, waiting for… something more.
“Yeah, have fun.” He replied, shrugging slightly, hands being buried deep in his front pockets. “I mean, it’s physics. You can’t really have fun with that,” he teased, but at the same time, you felt weird, like there was something more to it.
“Um, right,” you nodded, forcing a tense, small smile. “Definitely can’t.”
The words lingered in the air between you two, the air dense as volcano smokes; a volcano you trusted wouldn't erupt soon. Or at least you deeply hoped for it. 
After a quick goodbye, you headed to Jake’s house, having to deal with your stomach aching in nervousness after your brief interaction with Jay. You truly wished for your brother to be oblivious enough not to suspect anything more than he already had, nonetheless you and Jake weren’t being that cautious about your ongoing relationship.
On the other side, the said man was patiently waiting for your arrival. He had just declined Heeseung and Sunghoon’s invitation to hang out as they usually did on Fridays, trying to sound as casual as possible when explaining you would be there soon to finish your studies, since you had exams the next week.
Bullshit. 
Jake was playing with fire. Taunting the devil. Flirting with danger. Whatever.
He had a vain certainty that Jay was suspecting your relationship with him, especially after the last encounter in your room where your brother’s eyes shifted briefly into something close to understanding beyond what he had seen. 
Still, Jake called you over, praying for the best outcome instead of facing whatever consequences Jay would make him go through once he finds out he has been sleeping with his little sister.
Jake wasn’t an only child, however, having an older brother didn’t do much to help him in portraying being in your place.
Of course he would go insane if he had a little sister and she started to screw around with a friend of his, especially if she tried to hide it. But Jake didn’t plan to be the asshole type, to use your body for his own satisfaction and discard you once he got bored, never. He couldn’t even create a thought about leaving you at that point. His heart beat for you, and you only. 
You became an important part of his life throughout the past weeks, months even. Since the moment you both allowed and agreed to the friends-with-benefits arrangement and it had evolved into something much deeper. Now, Jake found himself nurturing strongest feelings for you; it wasn’t only about the curves of your body, the smoothness of your skin, the longing to have you all over him, no. 
Jake could easily say he had fallen in love with you.
It was crazy how you got him wrapped around his finger – both abstractly and practically –, as if it was such an easy task to do. 
Life with you was way more interesting and enjoyable. Jake could spend hours fucking you, yes, definitely. But nothing compared to having your body snuggled against his, the shared warmth leaving no room for anxiety, tiredness or sorrow.
After a tough day, all Jake wanted was to be with you, cuddling while receiving your shower of kisses and hearing your giggles as you did so.
Jake fell deeply in love with every part of your personality: how determined you overall were and especially when it was about to win him over, how rational yet emotional you could be, how genuine and at the same time assertive you expressed yourself when talking about your hobbies.
Acts of service were your primary love language, and Jake loved how you put in effort to express affection in such a thoughtful way, since the shared routine made it extra hard to ease your side. 
Taking care of his tired body after he stayed on top of you for quite a long time, giving him water and cleaning him whole. Bringing his favorite coffee whenever he stopped to pick you up from college. 
When you both actually studied, you didn’t just listen to his explanations; you appreciated the effort he put into making even the most complex topics easy to understand. But more than that, you always did your best to make him feel comfortable. Whether it was adjusting the air conditioning when you saw him shivering or sweating, or quietly flipping the pages of the textbook when you noticed he had finished reading the last paragraph, your attention to detail never went unnoticed.
On a random day, Jake reached into his back pocket and found a small note you had quietly slipped there. It was a sweet declaration, simple but meaningful, words that reflected everything you didn’t always say out loud.
He knew that you worked best through actions, but the note reminded him of the affection that was always present in every little thing you did.
The sound of the doorbell ringing had Jake jumping off the couch, eager to greet you. As the door swung open, he gave you no chance to breathe, pulling you closer to lessen the longing of the warmth of your body, his lips crashing onto yours with a fervor that told you everything you needed to know for now. 
“Hi– To you– Too!–” You tried to mumble against the kiss, giggling at how desperate Jake was behaving while stumbling on your legs as you entered the house, struggling to follow his messy lead.
“Want you.” He whispered as a vain explanation, guiding you both to his room without a care in the world.
With a blink of a second your half-closed eyes caught his deep frown, and your smile faltered while your body tensed straightaway. It triggered a strange feeling in your chest to perceive Jake’s urgency. You sensed something was off, weird even; you had just left home under Jay's analytical gaze, knowing you were hiding a huge secret from him, one he could be absurdly close to discovering – or maybe he already had. Now, with Jake’s unforeseen demeanor, if you forced yourself hard enough to connect the dots, you would say the man kissing you was holding some information back.
Or atleast holding something back. 
“Wait, wait–” You tried to break the sloppy kiss by pushing Jake’s chest lightly, away enough to attempt to pry an explanation out of him without his mouth devouring yours. “What happened?”
Jake’s eyes roamed your concerned face briefly, a flicker of hesitation flashing before he smiled tenderly. His hands on your hips pressed the area ever so mildly, as though he fought a way to anchor him, as if he suddenly started fearing to lose your touch.
You didn’t buy his smile.
“Can’t a man miss his woman?”
His woman.
Though the manner of addressing you had your heart swirling in a sweet, thrilling carousel and your cheeks warming up, you couldn’t help the growing bittersweetness slowly and painfully swallowing your entire being. 
“Yes, you can,” you didn’t hold back your half-smile before your eyes softened, nearly teetering a probing, piercing one as your hands softly caressed Jake’s face. “But I feel like there’s something more.”
Jake’s breath hitched, not due to how intense he was kissing you just seconds ago, but mostly because you were so fucking right.
Jake had a problem sleeping last night after you confirmed you would visit him the next day. Excitement? No. Fear.
Inviting you over to his place felt like a way of grounding the relationship, making it real. Alongside the once-conflicted feelings that had now settled comfortably into love, there was the weight of responsibility to bring you into his world, to make it real for everyone, make it real to his best friend. To your brother.
Jake wasn’t exactly afraid of his friendship with Jay falling apart. Though hurtful, he for sure could find ways to live through it. He did worry about you. To Jay, you were family – true family, tied by blood. If things went wrong, you wouldn’t have the luxury of cutting ties; you would be forced to navigate whatever fallout happened. Jake hoped fervently that it wouldn’t come to that, that you wouldn’t have to face a harsh reality just because you both liked – loved – each other. 
Yet, a new sense of resolve was rising within him, making him believe that no matter the outcome, he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. Fighting for you felt easy. Making you happy was his ultimate goal. 
Jake would cross oceans, move heaven and earth if that meant to stay with you.
So, you were right, because he was overthinking the possibility of telling Jay about your relationship. But before, there was going to be a relationship to begin with.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” 
Jake caught on your body shifting and backing away a little, your breath stuttering, eyes widening, wavering before his proposal. He found himself panicking within a snap prior to your silence, cursing internally for letting his feelings take over and the question to escape his lips.
A bit longer. Just a bit longer he should have waited to understand where you stood emotionally when the subject was the two of you, because beyond considering your feelings, Jay was in the equation as well, difficulting the possibilities of the said relationship to blossom. 
There was no coming back, though. The words flew out of his mouth, lingering in the air and weightening it as you quietly processed what you had just heard, wondering if you were tripping. 
Jake gulped and immediately started to ramble, fumbling over his words with a voice that broke a bit once and a while as he did so, trying to cover up the angushing lack of noises between you both.
To some extent, Jake feared you would somehow hear his heart beating in panic. 
“You don’t have to accept,” he began, his voice unsure, yet full of vulnerability. “I mean, we’re seeing each other almost everyday, and I really have feelings for you and maybe... Maybe you feel the same? For me?” He hesitated, puppy eyes wide and glistening with hope and desperation searching for any sign from you. He found nothing.
“L–Like, we’re having sex quite often and I like your company a lot,” he stammered. “I’d love to call you my girlfriend. I know there’s Jay and he’s your brother and he may not accept it, but I’m willing to–”
“Shut up.” You cut him off sharply by pressing a finger on his mouth.
A deep frown marked your forehead as you pondered thoughtfully, your gaze focusing on some random spot down the hallway behind Jake’s back, your mind racing.
Jake froze, eyes growing bigger at your reaction, his lips pursing together in a small, adorable pout that made your heart twist.
“Ok.”
You almost felt guilty for making him go through whatever was racing in his head; hearing his voice falter made your chest ache. At the same time, you couldn’t blame yourself, not when Jake had literally just asked you to be his girlfriend.
It was the question, the most important one of your life so far, the very one you had dreamed of hearing from him with his attractive Australian accent, nearly bordering a childish fantasy. 
“Please, just say something…” Jake pleaded, voice cracking with anxiety. “Even if it’s a no…”
His words hit you like a wave crashing onto rocks. Your head snapped towards his direction, your wide eyes shooting a skeptical, confused glance, increasing his own confusion. Jake tilted his head to the side, just like a puppy, and then the realization hit. 
“What?” You exclaimed, a hint of laughter tempting to burst out. “No! Babe, no…”
There was a clear layer of desperation on your voice now, as you shook your head frantically and sweetly placed countless kisses on Jake’s plump lips, cupping his face gently to keep him steady. He tried to ignore how his chest burned deliciously with the pet name.
“God, no, I’d never say no,” you muttered, his breath of relief fanning your face kindly, enough to ease your own heart. “I was just… Taken aback. I never expected my lifelong crush to ask me to be his girlfriend,” you giggled as you said, feeling a fluster creep up your neck towards your face. 
Jake’s half-open eyes enjoyed the tenderness touch you showered him with, but then he suddenly dropped to something similar to confusion again, pulling back just slightly to look you in the eyes.
“Sorry, lifelong crush? Me?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and amusement. 
You laughed again, the sound light and full of affection before you hid yourself on the crook of his perfumed neck; the scent easing your senses right away. 
“Yes, you,” you mumbled, shyly. “You– You have been on my mind for quite a long time, Jaeyun,” to admit it out loud had you even more embarrassed, so you choose not to pinpoint precisely when. Not for now. Gladly, he didn’t push you as well. He would make the most of it later on.
“So…” He trailed off, pushing you off your hideout to offer you the most beaming expression you ever saw him having.
Jake was so, so gorgeous, with his wide, contagious smile, the soft curve at the ends framing it perfectly. Eyes sparkling with adoration, giving you the most tender and expectant look.
“Yes, Jake. I’d like to be your girlfriend.”
“Mhm,” he nodded, feigning a cool, relaxed demeanor you both knew wasn’t actually true, trying to hide the actual urge to jump like crazy behind a mischievous smirk. You arched an eyebrow, expectation growing slowly in your chest. “Where should I first take you as my girlfriend now?”
You giggled, biting your bottom lip with a naughty smile as you felt your heart palpitating harder; Jake would always be your crush after all. And to know you had him as your boyfriend only increased your arousal amidst the unfolding talk.
“How about your room, mhm?” A finger slowly traced his jawline, eyes dropping to something more intense. “Bet you have a lot of physics stuff in there, am I right?” 
Jake laughed at your subtly mocking, yet naive words, especially because you both knew you weren’t wrong at all – and where that type of conversation would lead.
“Oh, you have no idea, darling,” he shot back, mirroring your tone as he pressed you back against his bedroom door, pushing it open with a deliberate motion. “Gotta show you how physics explains some… very special positions, yeah?”
You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, since things with Jake usually escalated quickly once your lips met, but now he was hovering over you, his firm body pressing you into the bed, kissing you slowly and consumingly, as his fingers roamed over every centimeter of exposed skin.
You were well aware of how tempted Jake was by your legs – one of the reasons you had chosen that particular skirt – but you were uncertain if you would ever get used to how he grasped at you, his fingers digging in as though he needed to pull you closer, as if he desperately wanted to break the laws of physics and turn you both into one single body, occupying the same space.
Each time he rocked forward, grinding himself against you in search of any fleeting relief, waves of heat and excitement coursed through your veins straight to your core.
When a soft moan escaped, the noise vanished in between the heated touch and Jake lost composure. His mouth left yours only to travel lower, finding the sensitive line of your neck, lips pressing eagerly, his tongue tracing over the spots he knew would make you shiver, followed by a soft scrape of his teeth as he teased every weak point with deliberate care.
Your nails dug into his shoulder as your head fell back onto his pillow, granting him full access, your other hand tangling in the softness of his brown locks, gently tugging as his lips moved with purpose. But Jake’s impatience was hard to miss. He drifted down to your jawline, then lower, hands trying to slip beneath your sweater in an attempt to feel more of you.
“No,” you tugged his head back by his hair. “No, no, no. Listen, I get you’re excited and believe me, I am too, but–” You tried to speak between the sloppy kisses Jake continued planting along your jaw, a clear attempt to quiet you. “We have to study.”
“Please,” he breathed, a whine escaping him, not giving a care about how tight you gripped his strands, lowering himself, nuzzling his nose against the fabric of your sweater. “Please, I need you. I need to feel you.”
“We have to study.” You echoed what you just said and somehow it seemed to be rather to bring you back from the blissful lust than to take Jake away from it.
“Please,” with a plea, Jake locked his eyes onto yours, his voice thick with desperation.
You swallowed nothing as you saw deep, raw, intense desire once you met his gaze.
Jake had his two beautiful orbs oozing with craving, with need. His jaw was clenched, his features somewhat sharper under the dim light of his room. The sight nearly made you moan aloud, perhaps longing to have Jake between your legs more than him himself. 
The blaze in your stomach increased as he leaned down slowly, fierce eyes still glazed onto yours, little by little decreasing the distance between his face and your still covered cunt, teasing to get under your skirt.
You knew exactly what Jake wanted. He had hinted at it so many times it was almost impossible not to relent. And yet, despite the power he somehow had over your decisions in moments like these, sending you easily into a haze of desire, you were a woman of your word.
“No,” you murmured, reluctantly pushing his head away and sitting up. “Do you remember our deal?”
Jake's gaze flickered, torn between your tempting thighs with the pretty skirt framing them perfectly and the inflexible expression on your face, the frustration evident. God, he could already picture himself getting lost in between your legs, your thighs squishing his head because he was pleasuring you so good. And preferably wearing the exact same skirt you wore.
“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes like a scolded child. “Let’s study so you can ace that fucking exam.”
You bit back a grin as you read Jake’s pouty face, reaching over to grab the collar of his white shirt and pull his body onto yours one last time, starting a slow, savoring kiss. You sucked his bottom lip within a quiet smack sound as you drew back.
“Sorry, can’t help myself,” you muttered with a cheeky smile, eliciting a chuckle from Jake. 
Your eyes tracked the motion of his tongue sweeping across his swollen, reddened lips, stealing any lingering remnant of your taste before standing on his foot.
“You’re trouble,” he said while offering you a hand. “And I like that.”
When he headed you over his desk, you smirked, ignoring the slap he gifted your ass with before sitting. 
“So, sound waves, huh?” you purred, fingers tracing over the open page before looking up at him with a playful glint. “I’m curious how you’d explain it to me.”
Jake would always follow the same flow. He would start with you beside him, explaining the concepts from the book in simple terms, and you would initially go along, absorbing the material through the practical examples Jake offered so effortlessly.
But then your attention would start to drift – to the way his lips moved, the soft, deep resonance of his voice that seemed to echo through your entire body, the way his slender fingers moved as he gestured with every point he made... And soon, Jake would begin to lose his composure, deciding to take a far more hands-on approach to his “teaching.”
After a call from Jay asking what was taking so long for you to go home – an unusual demeanor that got goosebumps spreading over your skin – and a lame excuse that you were deeply focused on reviewing the materials for your exam, you ended up back on Jake’s bed, on all fours with his hardened, throbbing dick pounding fast into you.
“The louder you scream,” Jake thrusted deep, hitting your g-spot tirelessly, making you cry his name out just like he was saying. “The greater the amplitude of the sound waves. It carries more e–energy.”
“Fuck, Jake,” you rolled your eyes, though no one could actually see you doing that. 
Your hands clutched the colorful sheets underneath you as a way to keep yourself sane, to maintain your conscience stable and grounded; you doubted you wouldn’t even remember your name, nonetheless. It was hard to think of anything else other than Jake’s name being chanted by your tired throat, Jake’s dick buried deep into you, Jake’s hands grasping your hips to keep you still, Jake’s desperate moans, searching for his release. Jake was everywhere. 
“So– deep–” You whined, your walls clenching around his length, your dripping juices coating precisely each part of it. 
“Yeah, babe?” Jake’s voice dropped an octave, squeezing your hips hard enough to leave marks. The fleeting thought made him groan, because it sounded like you were his propriety. “Like my cock deep into your pussy, mhm?”
“Fucking hell, yes,” you faltered on your arms, dropping almost completely on the bed if wasn’t for Jake’s steady grip on your waist. 
You could feel his dick twitching inside your cunt, the realization he was getting close sparking up in between the haze bliss you were going through, lost in pure, raw desire. Jake was fucking you so good.
“So fucking perfect,” Jake managed to say with trembling voice and between groans before his rhythm grew frantic, uneven, irregular. “My good girl, isn’t that right?”
You agreed within a mumble, not able to form proper words, eliciting a chuckle from Jake. 
“I want your cum,” you said muffled, somehow finding strength to force your body back and meet Jake’s thrusts. “I want it so bad, Jakey–”
After testing words, dirty talks, movements, even decisions when sharing those moments with Jake, you managed to select a few things you could do to drive him insane, near the edge almost instantly. So it took just a few pumps for you to be filled with Jake’s warm liquid, his orgasm hitting strong as he threw his head back, choking in between a long, delicious moan. He held you still, his dick deep into you as his body shuddered, hips stuttering while he enjoyed his overwhelming pleasure. 
With a hiss Jake released you from his grip, removing his length slowly, eliciting a discontent whine from you since not only you didn’t cum, but also felt the immediate lack of fulfillment and the feeling of his seed dripping down your legs. His hooded eyes were blurry, but he caught a brief view of it together with your slightly bruised skin before dropping his exhausted body onto the bed. Hot.
You quietly watched as he laid near you, how his chest rose and fell heavily, the known silver necklace moving together with it; you took the opportunity to come back to yourself, regulating your own breathing and regaining control of your body – deep down you knew Jake was just getting ready to give you your own climax. However, a mischievous plan popped into your mind and you couldn’t let it slide so easily, not when you finally had the chance of hearing him screaming your name without fearing your brother. 
“Lemme ride you,” you muttered suddenly and moved to position yourself on top of Jake, hands finding support on his torso, straddling with a knee on each side of his body.
“Babe, wait a bit–” He said within a frown, but not really doing anything to stop you; he just rested his palms on your waist, watching you grab his slightly softened shaft to align on his lower stomach. “Doll, please–” When you wiggled your hips to fit your wet, warm folds in his cock and started to deliberately grind, he nearly screamed. “Please, stop–”
Your eyes darted over his contorted face, not halting your movements as you did so, a soft moan leaving your mouth.
Such a lustful sight. Jake had his beautiful and swollen lips parted, silent, whispered pleas escaping it as his brows furrowed deeper; eyes closed tightly, cheeks flustered and breaths coming out ragged, mixed with airy moans that only intensified as you started to rut back and forth faster.
“Please, babe, ‘m sensitive–” 
Jake felt his head spinning, quite literally as he squirmed and abstractly, nonsense words cutting through the thick air, because, God, it felt so strangely good to be overstimulated by you. 
“Do you want me to really stop, Jakey?” You asked sweetly, yet a bit concerned that he was actually not enjoying it as you leaned forward to suck the skin of his sensitive neck.
He moaned. Like, really moaned and shook his head frantically.
“Mhm, fuck–” You lifted your body again just in time to catch his eyes rolling and fluttering close. “D–Don’t you dare to, fuck, to stop–” 
You kept on rolling your hips with a grin dancing on your lips. Jake’s sensitive tip touched your clit even so often, provoking your body to spasm a little. You aimed to get him hard again, so you could finally fuck yourself and achieve your orgasm, and because of the earlier interaction of your bodies you weren’t that far from coming.
Jake opened his eyes lazily, taking in the view of your exposed chest that quickly was being abused by his big hands, pinching your hardened nipples and kneading the soft flesh of them. You threw your head back, mouth falling open with the feeling of Jake touching almost everywhere.
At some point, Jake’s length was completely stiff beneath you and you took no time to position you in your pulsing hole, sinking in one go that had you and Jake throwing heads back with loud moans. 
Your breath was irregular when you propped your hands on each side of Jake’s face, starting to bounce in an unwavering pace that, together with the way you locked eyes with Jake, fierce and full of determination to finish, got him moaning within a smirk, proudly.
“Look at you,” Jake cooed at you, his voice hoarse, hands raising to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear to give him the full view of your pleasant contorted face.
“Yes, that's it,” he encouraged, sliding his fingers down your sides, squeezing it mildly; his lips stretching into a bigger smirk when you started to whimper and clench around his length. “Ride it, baby. Use me to get yourself off.”
And so you did, speeding up your rhythm as you chased desperately for your own release and consequently led Jake towards his – he was extra reactive due to the overstimulation, so at that point he was practically holding himself back not to cum again, craving to keep on feeling your tight walls squeezing his dick and eventually you creaming it.
Jake was big, hard and deliciously leaking inside you, his tip reaching your g-spot with ease and constancy, enough to make you start to scream as your moans grew louder. When his slender fingers found their place on your clit, rubbing fast circles to help you out, you couldn’t help but close your eyes with your mouth agape, a blender of whimpers and whines melodically falling from your lips as your arms began to fail to hold you in that position, making you slightly falter forward.
“J–Jake– ugh, fuck, so fucking good–” You stammered amidst cries of pleasure, feeling the coil in your low stomach teasing a strong build up.
At the same time your thighs began to burn, frustration emerging together with your desperation to cum, your own body betraying your release as you wavered the pace. Within seconds Jake took notice of how exhausted you were starting to act, and in no world he would let his girl down, so to maintain the same posture he propped his legs up, feet planted on his bed as he whispered for you to stop for a second.
“Just… Trust me,” he mumbled after seeing your confused face while letting go of your sensitive bundle of nerves from his skilled fingers to grab your ass, full hands in each cheek, holding you still as he started to push himself upwards.
You rolled your eyes quite instantly, letting your body fall onto his, your face finding its place on the curve of his pretty neck, where you started to pant and messily kiss in between your heavy breaths. Jake was leading the entire moves, pushing you down and pulling him up, heavenly deep. 
Each desperate, frantic, urgent thrust was leading you closer to your climax; you could sense it was going to be a strong one, and your whiny moans gave it away for Jake, who found himself teetering the edge as well.
“Close– ‘m close– So close–” He cried, feeling his dick leaking precum already. 
With a snap you let it go completely, your body shaking in uneven spasms as your juices fully coated Jake’s length within a long, striking moan. His own release followed yours, since your clenching cunt and the lewd wet noises as he rode you through your high left no room for any sanity or self-control. 
Jake’s big hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, shoving his cum inside you and the rhythm slowly faltered, hips stuttering as the last waves of pleasure coursed through both of you.
The room suddenly shrank as you both started to deliberately drift away from the blissful raze of raw arousal, nearly gasping for air as you did so. 
“Don’t pull out,” your words sounded more slurred than you expected, but the sweet silence in the air helped Jake to understand you, still experiencing the aftershocks of his orgasm.
“Holy.” 
It was everything he managed to say before the quietness took over again. You felt Jake caressing your bare back, slowly and tenderly, filled with an affection you wanted to receive only from him, fluttering the butterflies in your belly.
Eventually he was stroking your hair and hugging you close, his length still inside of you, prolonging the amazing sensation of being full. And somehow, you fell in love even harder.
“So that’s what freedom tastes like?” You heard Jake mumbling against your ear after a while, his honeyed voice cutting through the air kindly, and a tired laugh escaped your lips.
You couldn’t help the small sting in your heart as you heard the question, afterall, none of those escaping and hiding moments would be happening if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend. You wanted to be able to love Jake openly. And hoped he could love you back just as much. 
“Yeah…” You whispered within a broken smile that Jake didn’t catch. 
“I may grow addicted to it.”
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Jake wanted you to stay for the night, caring little to nothing about whatever could happen if Sunghoon and Heeseung found out. But you weren’t worried about them that much, you could easily coax your way out of it. 
You were frightened of your brother. 
So after a soothing warm shower to calm your nerves and with Jake reassuring you that the excuse you had created was perfectly convincing, you headed back, praying for Jay to be sleeping already or, even better: not at home. 
You moved as quietly as possible, trying not to make a sound while unlocking the door, like a teenager sneaking in after breaking curfew, heart racing in anticipation of being caught.
It was so weird to have that feeling, to hide things from your brother, the one you trusted blindly because he would never judge you. Still, the situation was fragile, unusual. It was a new territory where if you pushed too far, the consequences could be far worse than you were prepared to handle.
Jake somehow eased your stirring anxiety with his sweet words and calming voice when he embraced you in a last comforting hug before you left. 
“He would never be mad at you, darling.”
With Jake’s voice whispering tenderly in your head like a mantra, you finally opened the front door, stepping into the darkness of your apartment. 
A deep sigh of relief escaped as you closed the door behind you, careful not to make a sound, the faint click of the lock triggering a shiver that quickly vanished as you realized you might be alone. You could practically feel how your tensed shoulders loosed as you started to casually slip off your boots.
“So, how was it with Jake?”
You froze in place, back turned to where the voice came from.
Jay.
The lights suddenly turned on, but you had no courage to turn and face your brother, especially after feeling the burning sensation on your back that told you he was staring unwaveringly. The question hung in the air, thick and tense, as much as your body began to feel right after. His voice wasn’t accusing, but it still carried an underlying heavy weight you feared to understand completely. 
"It was fine," you forced out, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out thin, shaky. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue as you unfortunately became aware it wasn’t enough to fool him. Not anymore. “W–We studied sound waves and… Watched a documentary. About it. He ordered food too… It was… Cool.”
Your sentences were barely coercive. Unstable, insecure, because your mind was no longer working properly.  Telling blatant lies was something you never imagined yourself doing to Jay, and you certainly couldn’t consider yourself good at it at all. 
Still, you pushed through, trying your hardest to sound convincing, desperately hoping to make it through the day. Your body was screaming for a proper rest, drained from the adrenaline and energy spent earlier that Jay was oblivious so far.
Maybe the next day would be easier – maybe confronting Jay wouldn’t feel so impossible.
“Yeah?” Jay muttered and you finally turned on your heels to look at him.
He was leaning on the wall, smiling – but not a very pleasant smile. He had his hands shoved inside his trousers’ pockets, jaw clenched, eyes fierce, cutting through you as if he read your deepest secrets. You gulped nervously, hands starting to tremble; you could feel your heart pounding in your eardrums. 
“Did he teach you about sound waves while you screamed his fucking name?”
Your instant reaction was to almost mutter a quiet and confused “how did you know?”, your face dropping as the panic started to crawl in your skin. You just got caught and you had nowhere to run.
“Did he tell you two were alone, Y/N?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach immediately as he questioned and started to walk. Each step Jay took towards you felt like a heavy drumbeat, as if time had slowed down painfully, weightening the atmosphere absurdly, grounding you way too much; it felt as though heavy shackles with iron balls were bound to each of your feet, holding you in a way that left you suffocated and powerless. Excruciatingly overwhelming. 
“Because you probably were.” He stopped in front of you, his nostrils moving within each ragged breath. You could picture the haze of pure anger his mind got lost through his fierce eyes, eyes that never left yours. “During the first hour.” He added between gritted teeth and you shivered, your eyes widening as you took a step back, fearing falling because as realization hit, you practically felt the ground being pulled from beneath your feet.
There was no way Jake had lied to you, right? Leading you into a trap just to ruin your relationship with your brother. Why would he do that? You couldn't believe it, because that wasn’t the Jake you knew – it wasn’t the Jake who had just asked you to be his girlfriend with eyes shining with passion before giving you one of the most heartfelt kisses you had ever experienced. Jake wouldn’t do that.
How did your brother find out, then?
Jay shook his head slightly, his expression hardening further before a bitter, dry laugh escaping his pursed lips. He saw the look of disbelief in your eyes, the shock written all over your face and he read it precisely.
"No, Jake didn’t tell me,” he explained briefly to your racing thoughts. “He just didn’t know Sunghoon would be home earlier than expected."
Jay, though clearly upset, spoke with an edge of reassurance. His voice was low, barely concealing the tension and irritation simmering beneath it, still, worried about you.
A cold wave sprang in your chest as the realization struck like a bolt of lightning, your body quivering with fear and your wide, glistening eyes teasing to collapse in tears. You felt exposed. Vulnerable. Your secret was no longer a secret, and you instantly cursed yourself for holding it secretly to begin with.
Stupid, dumb, idiot.
Jay took a deep breath and you, another step back, trying to run away from the radiating rage coming out of his frightening presence. Jay was bigger and taller than you, and right at that moment, you felt even smaller.
“Do you have any idea of what it's like to find out that my little sister is screwing around with my best friend? And worse – hiding it from me?”
Jay didn’t yell, in fact his voice was dropping an octave, low as possible, and was more than enough to leave you on the verge of crying, your eyes stung, averting his angry ones. You lowered your head.
“I'm sorry, Jay, I–”
“Wasn't thinking correctly? Didn't think I'd find out? Cut off with your lame excuses, Y/N.” 
It was the first time Jay talked to you with such a cold tone, sharp as a knife, yet quiet. Something about the fact that he was mad, and still had a lowkey calm voice triggered the worst on you. 
“You lied to me, Y/N. Lied.” His voice faltered, but only for a moment. The raw emotion in his words was enough to pierce through the façade he had been trying to maintain, his eyes glimmering with tears, bringing the worst from your own feelings towards the situation.
Your breath hitched, the sting of betrayal and guilt washing over you. Unfortunately though, Jay wasn’t finished. 
“We promised not to lie to each other, Y/N. And you broke that promise.” His eyes burned into you, like they were seeing right through the walls you had built to shield yourself, the same barriers Jay once helped you to create, to feel stronger before the ones who tried to destroy your dreams. To destroy you.
For seconds, you saw your parents on Jay. For a brief moment, you pictured your younger self being scolded for your small mistakes and decisions, never being good enough. For the slightest millisecond, you hated your brother.
“Go to your room.”
You lifted your confused eyes only to see Jay cleaning his tears with the back of his hand. 
“Are you grounding me?” You asked quietly, but a hint of angriness stirred to snap out. 
Jay chuckled again, humorless. “No,” he gave you a last look with a mild head shake. “I just can’t see you now,” his sincerity was like a slap on your face. And you had no doubt that receiving one would hurt way less. “And you’re old enough to know you’ve fucked things up big time.”
Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.
Was it worth it?
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part 2
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esfordays · 1 year ago
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Little thing I’ll mention!
I’ll happily write small snippets of a fic (both & and /) if you send me… whatever prompt you want! (I’m cool with the three word ones as well, as I think I’ve seen it enough times lol)
Have a good one!
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snoopyracing · 18 days ago
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it’ll pass // mv33
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pairing: max verstappen X engineer!reader
word count: 18.5k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use. this is about the 2024 season and while i tried to make things as accurate as possible some things are tweaked for the storyline. so just read for the vibes and not biblically accurate season info :)
includes: right person wrong time, childhood friends, hidden relationship, a little friends to lovers, and ANGST
summary: when you think you've finally gotten everything you want in life... it goes and shows you just how unfair it can be.
playlist for the fic: apple music | spotify
masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Not many children are certain on what they want to be when they grow up, especially at age nine, but you were an exception. Sure – millions of children say they are going to be a veterinarian or a doctor when they grow up, but how many of them actually end up being that? Life happens, plans change, and reality sets in for the majority of Earth’s population. Although you never planned on any of that happening to you. There was never a doubt in your mind that you were going to be anything other than a race car driver, but even the most determined and strong willed people get dealt a shit hand at some point in their life.  
You’d been surrounded by racing your whole life – a perk of your Dad being a successful rally car driver. The sound of the engines and the smell of the exhaust were ingrained into your brain by age five. You were a wild child, a thrill seeker and definitely your Father’s child according to your Mother, but you knew even if your Dad wasn’t a racer that you would have still found yourself drawn to racing one way or another. For a good chunk of your early childhood you claimed to want to be a rally driver like your Dad, much to your Mom’s dismay, but that all changed when you attended your first Formula 1 race.
F1 wasn’t a foreign concept to you, your family watched and attended lots of different kinds of racing, but you’d never been to an actual Formula 1 race before. The atmosphere was completely different to anything you’d ever experienced and watching it on TV was nothing compared to seeing it in real life. You were enthralled by the sounds and hustle and bustle of everything. Not to mention how fast the cars actually were. The little adrenaline junkie in you was on cloud nine and by the time the checkered flag was waved and the car crossed the finish line you knew you wanted to be the one driving it. 
Luckily being brought up in a motosports family meant you somewhat had an upper hand. You were blessed to have the finances to start karting and not to mention a very long list of connections. And sure having all these things help you, but you’ve still got to have the talent. Which in your case was never an issue. You were a menace on the track, a force not to be reckoned with, and your Dad taught you not to take any shit from any of the insecure little boys. Trophies and medals lined your walls and there was never a doubt in your mind that you couldn’t make it to the top, that was until you got older. 
As your brain developed more so did your understanding that a lot of people and your competitors didn’t think women belonged in racing. Sure when you were younger some of the boys teased you, but it was never anything that bothered you much. It wasn’t until you were around fifteen and looking to move over to single seater racing that you faced your first real case of self doubt. Even with you being one of the best drivers in your division you still had to work ten times harder than the worst male driver to prove to everyone that you were worthy to be there. It was exhausting to constantly be ridiculed, to hear people say you only had gotten this far because of who your Dad was. It amazed you how you had won all these championships and races and people still didn’t think you had the raw talent that you so clearly possessed. 
Even with spells of self doubt and days where it felt like the world was against you, you’d somehow made it to Formula 2. That Formula 1 seat that you’d dreamt about since a child was almost in your grasp and you were more determined now than ever to prove that you were one of the 20 best drivers in the world. You knew that this season was your make or break, if you didn’t put in 110% then what were you even doing here? You needed to make a statement, but even the most astronomical statement couldn’t help the fact that your fate was decided when you were born a female. 
It didn’t matter that you had won basically every championship in the previous feeder series or that you were clearly on your way to win the F2 championship. It didn’t matter if people claimed that you were the future of Formula 1 or if Susie Wolff was your mentor. It didn’t matter that you had meetings with just about every F1 team about the possibility of a seat next year or that you had a well known last name. None of it mattered because at the end of the day no one was actually ready to sign a woman as a driver. Sure, they’d string you along and give you the false hope of somewhat talking about a contract and then go and sign a driver who you could lap with your eyes closed. Sometimes you just thought they liked the publicity that the team got from the news of you being in talks with them and couldn’t care less about actually giving you the time of day.
Finally accepting that you weren’t going to get a seat in Formula 1 was a devastating out of body experience. You were sat in an uncomfortable chair in between Susie and your Dad as they tried to bargain you a seat at Williams. Although it wasn’t your first choice, you had thought and prayed that with a female CEO and Susie having ties there that Williams would be your saving grace. It was your last option at this point and as you sat there their voices became background noise and the longer you studied Claire’s body language you knew this was the end. You had zoned out, your fingers bloody from subconsciously picking at the skin around your nails as your mind wandered to a place that wasn’t this meeting. 
Ever so often you’d hear a statement from one of them and it only made you more catatonic. 
“She’s in a league of her own, Claire. I mean she’s a million times better than I ever was as a driver.” 
“Her stats alone should tell you everything you need to know. She’s more qualified than the drivers you’ve got right now. I can tell you that.” 
It’s what comes out of Claire’s mouth next that brings you back to reality and what also seals your fate. “We could offer you being a development driver like Susie was or possibly a reserve.” 
Your eyes focus on her as you sit up in your chair. “I don’t want to be a development driver or a reserve driver. I want to be in the car every race weekend. I want to be an actual driver and I know I’m more than qualified to be one.” 
You can feel your Dad and Susie’s eyes on you, surprised at your sudden brashness, yet they didn’t reprimand you. Both of them knew you deserved better than what you were getting dealt. You watch as Claire clasps her hands together and a tight lipped expression forms across her face. “I hate to say this, but we just can’t afford to take the risk.” 
“The risk?” You question, fully knowing what that risk is. 
She clears her throat, her eyes darting from Susie to your Dad and then finally landing back on you. “Yes you have talent, but we can’t take the risk as a team right now to sign a female driver. We are barely holding on the way it is and signing a female– it just– we can’t be the team to experiment with that right now, no matter how good you are. I’m sorry.” 
“So a woman can run a racing team, but just can’t drive for one? Got it.” You’re trying to be professional, but you’d already heard that sorry excuse so many times before and your dreams were literally getting crushed right in front of you, so who can blame you for being a little shitty.
“It’s not just me making this decision Y/N. There’s a million other factors and people that go into this decision. If it could be different I promise it would be.” The strained look on Claire’s face does nothing to ease the ache in your chest, if anything it makes it worse
There’s an awkward silence that fills the room and you want nothing more than to be out of this suffocating room. Your emotions are starting to bubble over and the last thing you want is for someone to spot you looking less than thrilled. In society a man is allowed to react and a woman can only overreact. There’s been countless times where your quote on quote emotions after a difficult race are used against you in an attempt to prove you shouldn’t be racing. 
The wooden legs of your chair screech across the floor as you get up and even though you don’t want to, you reach your hand out towards Claire. “Thank you for your time, it was nice talking with you.” 
“My offer still stands. I think it would be wise to think it over.” Her grip on your hand is firm as she speaks, but it does nothing to change your mind. 
You give her one last thank you before swiftly exiting the room and making your way out of the building. It’s not until you’re in the safety of the blacked out SUV that you finally let yourself fully feel your emotions. And once the first tear falls there’s no stopping the ones that come after. You’re angry that even with the talent you so clearly possess, no one will give you a chance. That you’d worked this hard, gave up your childhood and the possibility of having a normal one to do this. Spent hours, days, months training and being away from home just to get to this spot in your life. Your one dream in life was almost in your grasp, your fingertips could brush against it, that’s how close it was. Yet on a sunny afternoon on a random Monday it was ripped away from you.   
Sobs echo through the empty car and you’d never felt more hopeless than you do right now. You spot your Dad talking with Susie outside the building and a short minute later he’s walking towards the car. You try to pull yourself together, you don’t want your Dad to see you like this, but when he gets into the driver's seat you lose it all over again. You somehow feel like you’ve let your Dad down, he’s been your biggest supporter during this whole journey and you not getting a seat felt like the equivalent of you being the worst child ever.
Your Dad couldn’t be more proud of you though, he’d never seen someone work so hard to accomplish their dreams and he was always going to be in your corner no matter what happened. His heart breaks when he gets into the car and sees you so upset and defeated, he’s half tempted to march back in there and demand that they sign you. But right now he knows you need him more than anything. He reaches over the center console and pulls you into him the best he can. His little girl deserved so much better than what you had been dealt and he only wished he could take that hurt you were feeling right now away from you. 
“Darling I know this hurts right now. If I could, I’d make a whole racing team from scratch just so you could fulfill your dreams, but this isn’t the end for you. Maybe you could try different kinds of racing? Indycar? Endurance? Maybe follow in your old man's footsteps?” His hand gently rubs against your arm as you sniffle into his chest. “You never know, maybe if you take the reserve spot you could get a seat the following year.” 
You lift your head up, your eyes bloodshot as you make eye contact with him. “Dad, we both know that's not true. They’d just string me along.” You lean back into the leather seat as you close your eyes, already feeling a headache coming on. “I know life isn’t fair, but this is some cruel level of unfairness. I wish I had been born a boy because I know I would not be in this situation right now if I was.”
“You’re correct, if you were a boy you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. But that is only because you wouldn’t be half the racer you are as a guy. You’ve gotten this far and you’ve got the talent you do because of who you are and that includes being a woman. I like to take credit for your skills, but honey all your will power and strength and smarts and hell just about everything else you get from your Mother. The guts to be in love with dangerous racing I will take credit for though.“ He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on the side of your face, gently wiping away your tears. “Listen, people may be blind and ignorant now, but when they finally realize just how good women can be in motorsports and stop being pussies and take that risk, they are going to regret waiting so long.” 
His words do nothing to calm the raging storm in your mind. “I know, but I wanted to be that person. I wanted that realization to happen now. I worked so hard and what did I get in return? To be passed over by someone who’s absolute shit? It hurts so bad.” 
His hands reach back over to yours, enveloping your much smaller ones in his as he tries to comfort you in any way he can. “That feeling will pass. It hurts now, but it’ll pass. I promise you.” 
The feeling never truly passes. 
You learn to deal with it, trying to find the positives in life, but the ache is still there. It's like a bad knee that hurts when it’s cold outside. It’s not there all the time, but certain moments take you back to that awful day. It hurts when you win the F2 championship and still don’t have a seat in F1. It hurts when interviewers ask you about what your future holds. It hurts when you see people you raced with as a kid be that one of twenty that you want to be so bad. 
Once the F2 season ends you honestly have no idea what you are planning on doing with your life. You really don’t want to dabble in other forms of racing, but you know if you take a year off your chances of getting that golden seat become even more slim. 
It’s not until the FIA Gala that you come to the conclusion that maybe you should take up the offer of being a reserve driver. You know you’re going against every word you’ve previously said and every stubborn bone in your body doesn’t want you to do this, but there’s nothing you want more than to be a Formula 1 driver. And if there is even a .1% chance that you could get that seat by doing a year as a reserve first, then you’d be dumb to not try. You know all the odds are against you and maybe you’re betting on a losing dog, but you needed to at least believe in yourself if no one else was. It’s a choice that you’ve mulled over for what seems like an eternity, but it’s a certain Dutch driver that makes you take the final leap off the edge. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You’ve known Max since you were kids in karting. The two of you were pretty close friends as kids, often seen attached at the hip around the track during race weekends. He’d found solace with you and your family, something that looking back now, you were glad to have been able to give him. He was the only other person who you truly considered competition back in those days. It was always a fun time when you raced against Max, mainly because he treated you like an equal, but also never downplayed your talent. He knew you were good and he expressed that many times– something that meant a lot to you back then and still does today.
As you two got older your friendship started to fade for no reason other than taking different paths. When he skipped F2 and went straight into F1 you were pissed, but he had the talent, you couldn’t deny that. You’d sometimes see him on weekends when F1 and F2 raced together, a few short words spoken in passing, but it was never like the old days. Your lives didn’t necessarily coincide anymore, he was making waves as the youngest F1 driver to exist and you were stuck in F2. So when he approached you at the Gala you were surprised. 
You’d been playing good racing driver and making small talk all night, talking to sponsors and random rich men who loved to hear  themselves talk. You’d finally escaped the tortuous sea of networking and found yourself at a somewhat secluded table with a flute of champagne in front of you. You hadn’t been at the table for very long  before you heard a familiar Dutch accent coming from behind you. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
You turned to see the one and only Max Verstappen standing there with his hand on the back of the seat next to you. Your eyes scanned across the white linen tablecloth to the several empty chairs surrounding the table and then back to Max. “I think they all might be spoken for, but I’m sure they can find another table to sit at.” He lets out a little chuckle as he sits down and you notice him fidgeting with his tie, clearly trying to loosen it. “It’s weird seeing you in anything other than your race suit or team kit.” 
His movements halt as his eyes comb over you and it makes you squirm slightly in your seat. “Could say the same about you.” 
He’s not wrong though, the dress you’ve picked out for tonight is nothing shy of stunning, but it’s not you. You always felt like these events were a form of torture more than anything and having to get all dressed up was just the cherry on top. 
“I saw that you had a good season.” You state before taking a sip of your champagne. 
Max’s eyebrows raise in surprise towards you, like you’ve just said the craziest thing. “I don’t think we should be talking about my season when you’ve just won a championship.” 
You lean back in your seat, crossing your legs as you adjust your dress. “It’s only an F2 championship Max.” There’s still a part of you that’s slightly bitter about him leaving you behind and you wonder what this night would be like if you were an F1 driver like him. 
“It still means something.” His baby blue eyes narrowed at you as he spoke. 
The remaining champagne in your glass is gone in seconds, this isn’t where you wanted this conversation to end up, but somehow you knew it was inevitable. “It doesn’t mean much if it can’t even grant me that seat I want. I won that championship basically halfway through the season, but can’t get anyone to offer me anything higher than a reserve driver. How does that mean anything?” 
Max shifts in his seat, he knows this is a sensitive subject to you and he knows what he’s about ready to tell you will probably get him slapped, but he has to at least try. 
“It could mean something and I came over here to talk to you about it.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words, confused as to what he could possibly mean. “I want you as my teammate.” 
You can’t help but laugh slightly at him, the Dutchman had clearly had one too many glasses of champagne tonight. “Did you think to express that to Red Bull before I had that world shortest meeting with them months ago? We all have dreams Max and yours is nice, but it’s a pipe dream.”
He shakes his head and scoots his chair closer to you. “It’s not a dream. It can happen. The team wanted to see how the rest of your season played out, but they for sure want you now.” 
“Where is Daniel going then?” A waiter comes past and you snatch another flute of champagne off of their tray. “And why is this not being discussed in a formal meeting setting?” 
“The team thought you might be more willing if you heard about this from someone you knew pretty well first. You know I’ve always been in your corner.” Max knows this is where the conversation will either go south or you’ll hear him out and he fears the latter isn’t the most likely scenario. “ And Daniel isn’t going anywhere” 
It takes you a moment to understand what Max’s words mean, your glass of champagne hovers near your lips as you slowly realize what he’s insinuating. And this time you actually do laugh at him because how could he think that after your disgruntled conversation just moments ago that you would want the one thing you were dissatisfied with? 
“Max, you've got to be kidding me.” You feel like this is one big prank and your tone is more defeated than upset at this point. 
Max on the other hand is trying to figure out how to convince you that this is your best option without making you throw that glass of champagne in his face. “Just hear me out ok? I know being a reserve is the last thing you want, but I also know that you’re one of the best drivers out there right now. And yes– you should have that seat already and it sucks that they are making you jump through so many hoops, but I’m trying to help you out in any way I can. So please just take Red Bull’s offer. You’d be a reserve for a year and then when Daniel’s contract is up at the end of the season you’d be the number one contender for his spot.” The only thing you can find yourself to do is blankly stare at him. It’s not a guarantee that you would be getting Daniel’s spot, you’d just be a contender and to you that means you would be just used for headlines and never actually considered. 
“You really think this is the best thing for me?” 
A sigh escapes past his lips, he should have known this wouldn’t be as easy as he hoped. “What are you really going to do if you don’t take this offer? You can’t do another season in F2. I mean, you’re driving laps around these guys for fun. You’re wasting your talent here and you’re also wasting it by being so determined to not take this opportunity.” 
Your arms defensively cross over your chest and you want what he’s saying to not make sense, but it is and it’s making you even more irritated. “I could seek out other forms of racing.” 
Max can’t help but roll his eyes at how stubborn you’re being. “You won’t though. You love rallying and yes it’s in your blood, but you lack the experience that you need. Endurance just isn’t you. Indycar is the closest thing to F1, but at the end of the day it’s not Formula 1, so I know you won’t actually seek it out. F1 is what you want Y/N and I’m trying to help you get there.” 
You know what he’s saying is true and it’s a tough pill to swallow, but you still can’t bring yourself to actually accept that this is your best and to be frank your only option at this point. Max can see the gears turning in your head, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip. “Y/N.” He’s trying to get you out of your head and bring you back to him. His hand reaches out and gently lands on your knee and that simple action has your eyes focusing back on his blue ones. 
“How do you know for sure? How do you know that I’ll actually be considered for Daniel’s seat?”  
A heavy sigh comes from Max and you know he’s not going to say what you want to hear. “I don’t. You know the racing world –  just because something is said doesn’t mean it’s true, but there’s a high probability. And I think if there’s even a slim chance and you don’t take it then you’d be dumb. You know I’ll always be in your corner and I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you as my teammate.” 
You still don’t know what to say to him, you’re torn between staying true to your values and not taking anything less than what you deserve and realizing that you may have to accept that this is the only way to even get close to your dream. “Stop making the guys in F2 cry and come join Red Bull, please.” 
A small smile finds its way onto your face when you realize Max is recalling all the boys you used to make cry when you beat them when you were kids. 
“Think you’re the only one I haven’t made cry yet, Verstappen.” 
Max mirrors your smile, the memories of old karting days also replaying in his mind. “Don’t see it happening anytime soon either.” A small chuckle escapes past his lips as he speaks. 
The atmosphere between you two had lightened and as you stare at the smiling Dutchman in front of you there’s really only one thing you can say to him. 
“I’ll think about it.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
After much deliberation, a handful of meetings, and finally accepting that this was unfortunately your best option, you found yourself dressed in a Red Bull team kit three months later in Australia. 
Being a reserve driver was not where you expected to be right now, but you were trying to be more positive about the situation. If it wasn’t for Max you’d probably be sitting at home wallowing in self pity. At least with being a reserve you get to still be around the one thing you love. It was tough though, to be a part of the race weekend, but not actually be able to race. You’re in the team meetings, you occasionally do media, you train like a driver– you do everything that a driver would do on a race weekend except actually drive the car. You sometimes feel like you’re just being taunted, like an animal with a treat just out of its reach. It's hard mentally sometimes, but you push through with the help of a therapist and the hope that this suffering now will be worth it in the end. 
Being a reserve meant you spent basically all of your time on race weekends in the garage. It wasn’t a foreign place to you by any means, but you’d never really been in the garage while the race was happening. You were more accustomed to being the one out on the track and not in here, but you’d grown to love the behind the scenes work. The one thing in particular was the role of race engineer. You were very familiar with them, your own engineer had been with you all through Formula 3 and 2 and you had fully planned on taking them with you into F1 if it was possible. The bond between racer and engineer is a special one, you’ve got to have the utmost trust with one another, know how eachother thinks and trust that they are doing everything in their power to help you. It sounds a little dramatic, but truly what is a racer without their engineer? 
Throughout the season you’d found yourself lingering more and more around the engineers. The occasional times where GP let you sit on the pit wall during practice sessions or qualifying you found yourself glued to the seat next to him. To see how effortlessly Max and him communicate and the level of trust is amazing. It’s a completely different atmosphere and there’s somehow a calm adrenaline that comes over you when you’re on that pitwall. GP makes it look like a piece of cake— looking at data, having multiple people in your ear at once, thinking about strategy. It sounds like a nightmare to some, but you grow to love it. The analytics make the gears in your head turn and the little racing nerd in you can’t seem to get enough. 
You seem to be focusing more on the engineering side of things more than racing at a certain point in the season and maybe it’s because subconsciously you know you aren’t going to get Daniel’s seat so you’re trying to distract yourself with something else. There are some moments during the season that give you hope that perhaps you will be considered, like the couple times you get to drive Max’s car in FP1. That hour you get where it’s just you, the car, and the track in front of you makes you realize why you fell in love with this sport to begin with. It’s just that when that hour is up you’re brought back to reality and you don’t want to get out of the car, but the proud look on Max’s face and his insistent rambling about how it was a no brainer that you finished with the fastest time each session made it a little easier. 
But even with the slivers of hope, Max constantly advocating for you, and not to mention just your raw talent– the team still decides to go with someone else. They don’t come right out and tell you, but you hear the whispers around the paddock and online that Pierre Gasley is who they want. Your name is barely mentioned in talks and when the announcement finally happens at the end of the season you aren’t even surprised. In all honesty yes it hurts, but you knew when you signed that contract that there was the tiniest chance that you’d get that seat and so throughout the season you built your walls up and prepared yourself for the inevitable. 
If it was even possible Max seemed more upset than you about it, but when you tell him over winter break about the other deal you struck he seems to forget all about how you once again had been wronged. Somehow by not getting a racing contract you managed to sign a different one. It was a long depressing month during the end of the season of coming to terms with the fact that your racing career very well may never go any further than F2, but you’d realized that you can still experience your love of racing, just differently, by becoming an engineer. You’d fallen in love with the behind the scenes work during your year as a reserve and GP had somewhat taken you under his wing.
So when the two of you had an actual conversation about you possibly taking the steps to become one it just seemed to click. You’d signed a contract alright, but it wasn’t the one you’d imagined to be signing. The little girl with a dream of being nothing other than a race car driver couldn’t believe that this is where she was headed, but here you were. You were no longer Red Bull Racing reserve driver, you were now a Red Bull Racing apprentice engineer. Even with your knowledge from being a racer for some time, you’d still need to go to school and you somehow managed going to school while working under GP. How you managed that work load you’ll never know. 
Max was thrilled that you two still got to work together and was proud that you’d seeked out a new path for yourself. He’d still be holding out hope that one day you’d get to be teammates, but for now he couldn’t be more happy for you. Especially because you seemed happy with how your life was turning out. 
As the years pass you only grow closer with Max. It’s like you’re joined at the hip sometimes, but you come to realize there’s no one else you’d want to spend the majority of your year with. It feels like your old karting days, he gets you and you get him and for you two that’s just enough. You’re there for his first WDC and you don’t think you’d cried as much as you did then, seeing the boy you raced with as a kid win such a prestigious title. But you also cried for yourself, because as much as you were so proud of Max, you couldn’t help but still mourn the fact that it could have been and should have eventually been you winning a championship. It stings a little less when he wins his second, but that’s mostly because you got so drunk you couldn’t really remember much of it. When you graduate with your degree in engineering Max is there cheering you on, dressed in something other than his team kit for once. You don’t remember much from that night either, but you can’t seem to forget how genuinely proud he seemed of you and how he couldn’t seem to be anyplace other than right next to you. 
The following year with a degree and years of experience now under your belt you get a promotion, mainly because GP got poached by another team for the following season. So for the 2023 season that is truly an iconic one for Max you’re practically his race engineer, but GP is still there right next to you offering his knowledge when needed. 
When it’s finally official that you’ll be taking over the role as Max’s race engineer in 2024 the news is mostly positive, but of course there are some people that think you couldn’t possibly be capable of taking on the role. That a three time worlds champion shouldn’t have a woman as an engineer, let alone one that was around the same age as him. It was funny truly, you were more than qualified to be an engineer. You’d done the schooling and had the experience, yet once again because you were a woman people thought you didn’t deserve the job. 
Max on the other hand was ecstatic that you’d be filling GP’s shoes. He’d had a good run with him, but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t sure that you two would make an incredible duo. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“So maybe this wasn’t how I’d imagined us being teammates, but I did tell you I wanted us to be teammates didn’t I? And I think it’s safe to say I always get what I want.” Max stated as the two of you tried to hide in the corner of this end of season/Max's WDC party/your promotion party. Well technically it was Max’s WDC party, but of course he had to bring you into it and show his appreciation to the team as always. 
He’s clearly had one too many gin and tonics and the goofy smile on his face only got wider as he spoke.
“Cocky much huh? I think that third championship is getting to you.”  
He leaned in closer to you and those pretty baby blues narrowed in on you. “Well when we get my fourth title next year I’ll show you just how cocky I can be.” That was gin and tonic talking and you knew it was time for Max to retire for the night. 
“Alright champ. Think it might be time to call it a night.” Your hand wraps around his bicep to try and guide him towards the exit, but he’s a solid man and he doesn’t even budge. 
“No, it's still early! We haven’t even begun to celebrate you yet!” He’s being loud and pouty and all up in your personal space, classic signs of drunk Max. And truth be told you don’t want the attention on you whatsoever, hence you hiding in the corner. Which of course Max had invaded as soon as he could.  “Come on just one more drink?” 
You know one more drink is never just one more, but for whatever reason tonight you can’t tell him no. And so hours later when you’re both making your way down the fancy hotel hallway towards his room you don’t even recall wanting to leave early. Both of you tipsy are always giggling messes and when Max can’t seem to get his key card to work to get into his room it’s apparently the funniest thing on earth to you. Which in turn has Max laughing and you don’t realize how loud you two actually are until the door across from his opens and a disgruntled elderly man is stood there in his robe. 
“Sorry!” You barely squeak out to the man as Max finally gets his key card to work and you’re pushing him into his room before the old man can respond. When you hear the door click behind you, the both of you are stood in silence staring at each other for a moment and then laughter erupts out of both of you. 
Max plops down on his bed and you take that as a sign that he’s safely made it back to his room and you’ve fulfilled your duty as his friend tonight. “Alright. You’re safe and sound which means I’m gonna head to my room. Goodnight Max.” 
He quickly sits up on the edge of his bed at your farewell, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he wonders if he should go through with the idea that’s been consuming his brain for some time now. He had enough liquor in him now to justify even considering it. It’s not until your hand touches the door knob that he finally speaks up. “Y/N. Wait.” 
Your head whips around at the sound of his voice and by the time you’re fully turned around he’s inches away from you. “If this is you trying to convince me to rally and head back out I’m convinced you want me dead, Verstappen.” 
“No no, it’s nothing like that.” His voice is soft and you can almost feel the energy in the room change. 
“What is it then?” You throw him a questioning look. 
He’d cracked the can of worms and if he didn’t fully open them soon he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance again. “Um- there’s something I-” How was he supposed to tell the girl who in less than a month is going to be his official race engineer that he has feelings for her? He’d been somewhat harboring them since they were kids and as he got older and the feelings seemed to lessen he figured it was just a silly little childhood crush. He’d only then realized since becoming as close as the two of you have ever been these past couple years that those feelings were not just ones of a silly little childhood crush.
Sure it started out as that and yeah his feelings may have just gotten pushed down when your lives started to go in different directions, but now that he had you with him all the time and your relationship had blossomed into something more than just two kids on the kart track. He’d come to the conclusion that those feelings never actually went away. And he knows he should have said something sooner because this new phase in your relationship and your work relationship takes priority over his romantic feelings, but Max can’t help but be greedy. The three time world drivers champion surprisingly wants to have his cake and to eat it too.
The alcohol coursing through his veins isn’t really helping him in thinking that clearly, he can’t seem to muster up the words in the order he wants, it’s all jumbled up and he starts speaking in Dutch without realizing it. 
“Max, you're making no sense. You’re drunk, just talk to me in the morning or guess I should say afternoon by the way you seem to be sounding.” He’s tipsy, not drunk. He could hold a conversation, but apparently not when it came to confessing his feelings. The liquid courage he thought he had possessed was clearly no longer working in his favor. It’s only when he feels your hand touch his forearm that he pulls himself together. “When I signed that contract to be your race engineer I didn’t think it would include babysitting.” You slightly teased him as you tried to guide him back to his bed, but like back at the party his feet stayed planted to the plush carpet. 
You knew drivers and their engineers were close, you had to be, but there was something definitely different about Max and yours relationship. Maybe it was because you had known each other since you were children, but you two were for sure closer than the average duo. Case and point– the situation you two had currently found yourselves in. You didn’t know of any engineers and drivers who went out and hung out outside of work like you guys do or even party like you two do, but for you guys it was normal. So perhaps things would have to change when the season officially started. 
“If you’re going to be so stubborn then you can put yourself back to bed.” Your hand drops from his arm as you turn towards the door to leave when you feel his much larger hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Max-” 
Your faces are inches apart and his pupils are so dilated that those pretty blue eyes that always stare back at you resemble something more of a black hole than a spring sky. “I may regret doing this, but I think if I don’t I’ll regret it even more.” 
And it’s in this moment that everything between the two of you changes and your lives are forever altered. 
You don’t even get to question what Max is talking about before you feel his plump pink lips against yours. Your brain short circuits and it takes you a second to realize what is actually happening, but by the time your brain catches up with your lips he’s already pulled away and cursing. 
“Fuck I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Clearly you don’t feel the same-” 
Max doesn’t even get to finish his rambling before your grabbing at the material of his shirt and pulling him back towards you. Your lips crashing into each others and this time he’s the one surprised. His hands reach up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving in perfect synchronization. The night's drinks linger heavy on your tongues and they begin to mix as his tongue slips its way into your mouth. He’s dominant yet soft with his actions and you find yourself becoming enthralled with them. 
When you two finally pull away you’re both breathless with rosy cheeks and giddy smiles on your face. There’s a silence between you, no one wants to be the first one to say anything. To bring you back to reality and ruin this moment, but Max is the first one to burst the bubble. “I hadn’t really planned on kissing you. I actually had a whole speech planned out, but guess this did the trick just as well.” 
“A speech?” You question. 
“Was gonna tell you that I may have had a crush on you since we were kids in karting and how I thought it was just a childhood crush for the longest time, but then we became so close ever since you joined Red Bull and I realized that I’ve always been enamored by you. We just get each other and being around you is so easy. You’re my person Y/N.” 
You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say you didn’t have a crush on Max when you were kids too or that you’d perhaps sometimes in the middle of the night when your mind wandered thought that there may be something a little more between Max and you than what you let on. But you’d always pushed those thoughts aside as quickly as they arrived. You didn’t allow yourself to be distracted with silly crushes when you were racing let alone now when this new dream was at your fingertips. But the fact was that it wasn’t just a silly little crush. Max is just as much your person as you are his. He’s your biggest supporter and embarrassingly the person you think about the most. And perhaps you do find yourself staring at his pretty blue eyes or the way his eyes scrunch up when he’s really happy or laughing hard. The way his lisp becomes more prominent when he gets excited or how you love to hear him “maxplain”. 
So perhaps you were more down bad than you had let yourself believe, but it was no use dwelling on it. You were colleagues and soon you would be his race engineer. This was just a drunk mistake and Max was only caught up in the moment– at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. This couldn’t happen right now and you know you know you shouldn’t have kissed him back, but god kissing resembled the same feeling of when you overtake on the track. That adrenaline rush that starts in your stomach and travels up to your chest. It’s addicting and as he stands there in front of you, those swollen pink lips of his keep shutting down everything in you that tells you to not let this go any further. 
Max gently reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as he tries to figure out how you feel. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same, but I mean after that kiss… there’s got to be something.” The sly smirk on his face only has you rolling your eyes at him, but he knows from the small smile your donning that the eye roll was nothing of significance. “I just had to tell you. It’d been eating at me.” 
His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across the top. You practically melt into his touch and as your eyes flutter shut a deep sigh escapes past your lips. You know this can’t continue, you know you’ve got to be the one to set the boundaries, but god damn if this wasn’t something like a dream. 
“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t feel the same because I do. Perhaps even more than you at times, but this was absolutely the worst time for you to do this. Before you know it the season is going to start and I’m going to officially be your race engineer. We can’t mix pleasure with business.” 
He knows what you’re saying is true, but to hear you say you feel the same as him has him willing to risk it all. “I know I should have told you sooner, but I think we could make it work.” 
“Max.” You’re trying to get him to think rationally for just a second. 
“We don’t have to put a label on anything and no one will know until we are ready. We will just take it slow. Nothing would have to change between us or the people around us. Work will always come first.” 
His hands move down towards yours and your fingers intertwine as you try to make sense of all the things flying around in your brain. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before like you do Max. You’d been burying it, trying not to let it get in the way of your job, but it had been there subconsciously the whole time. Now that you’ve come to terms with it and found out he feels the same, how the hell were you two going to move forward with this?
“Things will change Max, even if you say they won’t we both know they will. We’ll have to be careful about how we interact and sneak around. This isn’t some little make believe play time kind of thing. This is real life Max.” You squeeze his hand as you speak, trying to convey just how serious you’re taking this and how he should be too. “I also have a lot more at stake than you do Max. I’ve gone through hell and back to get where I am today, I don’t want it all ruined in the blink of an eye.” 
Max so badly wants to make this work. He understands your apprehension regardless of how strong your feelings are for him, but he thinks you guys should at least give it a try. 
“I understand what you’re saying. I also think what we’ve got here is pretty special. It would be a shame to not pursue it.” 
Your brain is telling you to choose your career and your heart is telling you to choose both your career and Max. Everything could work out fine and he could be the guy you end up marrying and living happily ever after with or it could all blow up in your face and you could lose your career and your man. But if you would have never taken the risk of becoming a reserve for Red Bull then you wouldn’t be here in this position. So you take the risk and decide to go with your heart. 
“Alright let’s see how this plays out Verstappen.” 
His eyes light up at your words. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
And for the third time that night you feel his soft lips pressed against yours. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The 2024 season starts out with a bang. Max puts it on pole in quali and wins in Bahrain and the same thing happens in Saudi Arabia. You’d been practically shitting yourself in the weeks leading up to the start of the season. There was an insane amount of pressure from the public and media for you to do well, but also an insane amount that you had put on yourself. You wanted to prove to people that you were good at your job, that you deserved to be there. So when the first two weekends went smoothly and your communication went well with Max you couldn’t have been happier.
Not to mention how well it was going with Max. You two had been nothing but careful when it came to your radio messages, but also your behavior in the garage. The fleeting glances or smiles thrown your way only mean that much more considering you two are the only ones who know their true intent. And the evenings spent in each other's hotel rooms are like your own personal getaway. It’s just you two once that door is closed behind you and it makes the kisses even sweeter. 
Although the following week in Australia you weren’t expecting to be dealing with a hiccup so soon, but that’s the world of Formula 1 for you. It started off normal, Max took pole in qualifying and the race started great. Everything is normal on the pitwall and then you see Carlos overtake Max on lap two. It of course is not what you want to see, but it was only the second lap and you weren’t that stressed at the moment, but then you hear the dial of Max’s radio.
“I just lost the car. Really weird.” Max’s voice fills your ears through your headset. 
“Yeah no problem Max. Still early.” 
You watch the data closely as the race continues and you can see his time dropping ever so slowly.
“Fuck. The car is loose.” 
“I know. Try and hold on, we are working on it.” 
His time keeps dropping and you're combing through everything trying to figure out what could be going on. As you glance at the monitor with the race coverage you notice smoke coming from the back of the car and not a second later his voice comes through your headset once more. 
“I have smoke. Fire fire. Brake my brake.” 
“Copy. Try and make it back to the pits.” 
Fuck. This could not be good. You’re first real issue as an official engineer and it’s only the third race of the season. You turn in your chair as you see him rolling down the pit lane, his rear brake on fire. Your stomach drops and you know it's a DNF for him. Thankfully it wasn’t a crash, you think you would have been going to the medics with him if that was the case. 
Your headset is off and you’re making your way across the pit lane as soon as you see him get out of the car. You’re nervous considering this is the first race issue you’ve dealt with while being “together” or whatever you two are calling it and you aren’t sure how Max is going to handle it. 
He’s in the garage taking off his balaclava as you walk up to him and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, but you know you can’t do that. There’s clearly signs of disappointment on his face, but he’s trying to keep a poker face when he spots you. “You alright?” You question as you lean against the counter. 
“I’m fine. Car isn’t though.” He’s short with you and you probably should have let him decompress on his own before coming over here, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen him in a less than cheerful mood, but it’s the first time since coming to terms with how you felt about each other and you being his engineer.
“I know, I’m sorry.” 
He shrugs his shoulders at you, his hand running through his dirty blonde hair. “Wasn’t your fault.” 
You feel like it is though. “Are we good?” You ask with a low voice. 
Max could barely hear you with the sound of the mechanics and when he sees them moving the car into the garage he grabs you by the elbow and leads you towards the back of the garage towards the paddock entrance hallway. It luckily was empty for the moment, the garage too busy dealing with the car. 
“Why would we not be good?” He lowers his voice too. 
It’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that it was the first issue of the season and I wanted to make sure you weren’t upset with me or something.” 
“Schatje.” The term of endearment always has butterflies fluttering about in your stomach, no matter how many times you hear it. “It was not your fault. It was a mechanical issue.” 
He can see the worry across your face and he knows the amount of stress you’ve been feeling about everything. The last thing you need is to be worried about how your relationship is going. He quickly checks both directions and when he sees the coast is clear he pulls you into his arms. It’s what you both needed after the shit show that was this race and even if it was brief his actions told you everything you needed to know. “We’ll talk more tonight, yeah?” 
You simply nod at him, both of you knowing you have to go back to your respective roles in the team before someone comes around the corner. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before disappearing behind the corner and back into the garage. You lean your head against the wall as you let out a deep sigh. There was something in you that had a feeling that this season wasn’t going to be an easy one. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Japan and China have you guys back to regularly scheduled programming and then Miami comes and turns everything upside down. When Max wins by the skin of his teeth in Imola the following race week you know something is not right with the car, but you can’t seem to pinpoint it. You know Max and you know he’s driving the car to its full ability and he somehow manages to secure the win in Canada and Spain, but not without being vocal about how shit the car is over the radio, to which you can only reply copy that Max.
It’s clear to you and probably everyone else that this season is not looking to be a dominant Red Bull season and it makes your stomach churn to think about the headlines about you. There’s not a doubt in your mind that everything will be blamed on you, especially after the horrible weekend that is the Austrian Grand Prix. 
It doesn’t start out bad, Max puts it on pole in qualifying and he holds the lead throughout the majority of the race. It’s not until lap 48 that things start to fall apart. 
“I can’t hold this much longer.” Max’s voice sounds through your headphones. 
“A couple more laps Max.” 
“The tires are fucked.” 
You don’t want Lando to undercut Max and you know if you don’t time this pitstop right that it may very well cost Max the race. On lap 52 you call Max into the pits and McLaren pits Lando also. You need this pitstop to go well and of course — it doesn’t. A stubborn left rear wheel nut is what brings the gap between Max and Lando down to two seconds. 
There’s not a bone in your body that wants to relay that information to Max, but you’ve got to, it’s your job. 
“Gap to Lando is now two seconds Max.” 
“Fuck.” 
“I know, but you can hold him off.” 
As the time began to shrink between Max and Lando your confidence in Max holding him off was dwindling and you knew he wasn’t going to just let Lando pass him. He was going to hold Lando off for as long as he could and when the racing started to get sketchy you were sure you wouldn’t have any fingernails left by the time this race was over. 
“Keep it clean Max.” You tell him after a particularly close call. 
“Something is wrong with the car.” He replies. You can tell he’s got no grip, but he’s also trying to defend like his life depended on it. 
As the laps go by the two drivers seem to be getting more desperate as both of them are pushing track limits and each other. You know it’s not gonna end well and you can only do so much from the pitwall. It’s Max who makes the final decision out there regardless of what you say. 
It’s been a tiring back and forth game with them and when they finally make contact on lap 64 your stomach drops for the man you care for, but you shake your head as his engineer. Both of them have punctures and somehow Max is able to make it back to the pits and still finish fifth. It’s quiet on the pitwall and the cheers from the Mercedes team drown out anything that might have been said. You don’t know what to say to Max when you see him. As his engineer you know he was defending (rather recklessly in your opinion) but as his ‘girlfriend’ you want to slap him for being so reckless. 
You know it’s better to just let Max decompress on his own and at this point you somewhat need to also. He’s got media duties to deal with and you’ve got your own responsibilities. You don’t even bother in waiting around for him like you usually do after a race. Once your tasks are done you’re making your way back to the hotel and for the first time that weekend you actually go to your room. Nothing sounds better at the moment than a nice long hot shower and so you let the water help wash away the stress from this weekend. That is until you hear a rapid knock on the door as you’re wrapping yourself in the hotel branded fluffy white robe. You know exactly who it is, but considering you’re dressed in nothing but a robe– you check the peephole. To no surprise there on the other side stands a disheveled Max Verstappen. His hand runs through his hair obsessively and you can tell he’s not in the cheeriest of moods. You open the door and he wastes no time in coming in. 
“Why aren’t you in my room?” He immediately asks, his tone almost reads as offended that you were here instead of three rooms down. 
“A girl can’t use her hotel room?” 
“You know what I mean.” 
You sit down on the edge of the plush bed as Max remains standing. 
“I just wanted some alone time. To decompress after this weekend, specifically today. Figured you could use some too.” 
He’s standing in front of you now, his fingers lightly toying at the collar of your robe. “All I wanted to see when I came back to my room was my girl waiting for me.” His voice is soft and you can tell this weekend has taken a toll on him. He plays the tough guy act during racing, but at the end of the day he’s just a man who wants and needs love and comfort. And so without a second thought you're sneaking off to Max’s hotel room like a couple of teenagers trying to not get caught. 
The warm embrace of Max’s arms is one of the places you feel the most safe and tonight is no exception. Austria is clearly a weekend to forget, but you know the media will be dragging it out for weeks to come. “The only thing I’m gonna say about today is that you’re lucky all that happened was a puncture. As your engineer and girlfriend you put me through the fucking ringer today Verstappen.” 
He doesn’t even register you somewhat scolding him for his driving today, all he can seem to focus on his you referring to yourself as his girlfriend. Of course you’ve been nothing less to him in his mind, you were exclusively his and no other woman would compare. But with the somewhat tricky situation you’d found yourselves in you’d never really put a label on it and that was fine to him. In fact he’d been the one to suggest it in the beginning, mainly because he knew how nervous you were about exploring the relationship between you two. But to hear it nonchentaly come out of your mouth that you’re his girlfriend is perhaps the best thing he’s heard in a good while. 
“Girlfriend?” He questions, his tone somewhat teasing you. 
Your head leaves its home on his solid chest and moves to look up at him. You hadn’t even realized you’d referred to yourself as his girlfriend, but after six months of you two just going with the flow or whatever you wanted to call it. There was no doubt that you two were exclusively one anothers. 
“I mean– that’s what I am right?” You pray you haven’t just made a fool of yourself, but you know he feels the same. 
His hand cups your cheek and he looks at you like you’re the most breathtaking thing on the planet. You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach and just by the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same. 
“Yes, but only if I’m your boyfriend.” His voice is sweet like honey and the butterflies are about ready to escape your stomach at this point.
“We sound like two 13 year olds right now.” 
Your laughter is like music to Max’s ears and he can’t ignore the swelling feeling in his chest. It’s terrifying, but thrilling at the same time and it’s a feeling that he’s sure he never wants to be without. 
“Well ok then I need to know if we are actually boyfriend and girlfriend.” Giggles fill the hotel room and you would have thought you two had been drinking with how ridiculous you two were acting, but you were really just lovesick fools. 
As the laughter dies down you can sense a shift in the atmosphere as you two lay there and stare at each other for a moment. In what seems like no time at all your leg swings over his waist and a second later you’re straddling him. His hands instinctively move to your hips and your hands lay flat on his chest as you lean forward. “I think it’s safe to say that you’re mine huh? My boyfriend?” 
Your lips hover just above his as you whisper to him and you can see his pupils dilating and feel the grip on your hips getting tighter. 
“I like hearing that.” He whispers back, his lips jutting out to connect with yours, but the tease in you has you pulling back ever so slightly. 
“Hearing what?” A playful smirk adorns your face as you sit up with your hands still splayed across his chest. 
He sits up too, but it’s clear you’ve ignited a fire in him. His hands snake around your waist as he holds you close to his chest. Your hands now resting on his shoulders. “That I’m yours.” 
And in one swift motion he’s flipped you onto your back as his large biceps bulge while he hovers over you. His head leans down towards your ear and his breath tickles your neck. It’s like every nerve in your body is heightened and you’re aware of every single thing he does to you and himself. “And that you’re mine.” 
A shiver runs up your spine as he whispers into your ear and by the look in his eyes you know it’s going to be a long night. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
To say you were looking forward to summer break was an understatement. The mere idea of having a month off was the only thing that got you through those last three races. Silverstone wasn’t horrible, but Hungary and Belgium were nothing to write home about. The team had figured out that the upgrades that were brought to the car weren’t working correctly, but now it was trying to figure out why they aren’t working and how to correct them. But even with potentially corrected upgrades it still seemed like the car would be a pace behind McLaren or Ferrari. You’d been stressing trying to work on a new strategy with Max and trying to figure out how to make the car faster with basically nothing to work with. Not to mention the headlines that had your head on a spike claiming “Red Bull’s downfall” was because of you. It was truly tiring and so when the checkered flag waved in Belgium you were one happy girl. 
It’s not everyday that you get to send a week on a private island with your boyfriend, yet here you were. When Max had mentioned something about getting away during summer break you had figured Saint Tropez or Bali or really any typical F1 driver vacation spot. You had also figured you’d be spending some time apart considering it would be a little weird to be spotted on vacation together. The last thing you wanted was for rumors to start flying around, but Max surprised you with the unexpected. 
When Max told you this was a private island you figured there’d be maybe a handful of other people, but it was literally just you two and the staff for the villa. It’s truly paradise on Earth and you have to pinch yourself sometimes to see if you’re dreaming. Days spent on the beach and in the ocean. Nights spent tangled inbetween the sheets and mornings spent waking up to the gentle lull of waves crashing onto the sand and alright sometimes it is spent tangled in the sheets. Decadent food at the snap of a finger and the feeling of the sun on your skin everyday. It’s just what you needed, what you both needed to help you recharge for the second half of the season. 
On one of your last nights on the island Max and you find yourselves cuddled up on one of the giant loungers outside. The ocean had calmed for the night and the moon’s light cascaded over the water and onto you two. For once Max had sought out comfort in your arms and you thought you had put him to sleep from running your fingers through his hair until he spoke up. 
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other.” 
Your movements stilled, you weren’t expecting him to say that. Sure Max is a lot more loving than people would expect, but he isn’t one to be overly sappy. “Me too.” There’s a beat in the conversation and your hand finds its way back to his hair. “I don’t think as kids we saw our lives ending up like this though did we?” 
“Career wise or us being together?” Max questions. 
“Both I guess or at least it was that way for me.” You can feel Max slip his hand under your shirt and his finger start to mindlessly trace patterns on your abdomen. “If you would have told the girl who hated your guts for a while after you left me behind in F2 that I would be on a romantic getaway with you years later, I would have laughed in your face.” You can sense the shit eating grin on Max’s face. “I also fully believed that I was going to be a Formula 1 driver. There was nothing that you could have told me back then that would have changed my mind. Hell even five years ago I was still holding out hope. Guess I should have known better.” You’d turned the conversation in a different direction, but it was Max and he was the one person who you could have these kinds of talks with in confidence.
Max knows this is still a very sore subject for you and how could it not be? He couldn’t imagine having gone through all the shit you have just to be denied over who you were. He may have had his fair share of shit to go through as a child and some other things, but in the end he got to achieve his dream and no one denied him of it because of who he was. He knew you had to look at him with envy more times than not and he wished he could only go back in time and somehow by the grace of the racing gods get you a seat. “There’s no such thing as “knowing better” you had a dream and the talent to back it up. There was no reason you shouldn’t have been able to achieve it schatje. Life is just one cruel fucker sometimes.” 
“But I guess without that happening we probably wouldn’t have ended up together then?” You try to change the subject to something less depressing than your failed racing career. 
“Everything happens for a reason.” Max states. 
You nod in agreement, it’s something you’d told yourself quite often to try and cope with your dreams getting crushed. 
“I do love my job now and however shit my luck may be it can’t be that bad. I still get to enjoy racing and I’ve managed to acquire you in the process.” 
Max lets out a small laugh at your statement. “Didn’t know I was some prize to be sought after.” 
“You were like an added bonus that came with the job.” 
Max playfully scoffs and after a few moments of silence he changes the subject.
“Maybe we should just stay here for the rest of the season.” He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s been dreading for summer break to end and to go back to driving a car that wants to disagree with everything he does.  
“It would be nice, but we have a championship to win.” 
Max looks up at you and even with the moon as your only light source those baby blues of his still sparkled. “You really think we still have a shot at it?” 
You know this season has been weighing him and the whole team down and as much as you’ve been stressed you still have faith that you guys can pull off the WDC. ‘I’m gonna tell you something my Dad used to tell me. Whenever I had a difficult race or was upset or even when I was getting rejected for an F1 seat he’d always tell me ‘it’ll pass’. You may be feeling like shit right now or hopeless, but after some time things get better and eventually that feeling of despair will pass. This rough patch we are in right now– it’ll pass Max. You’re gonna win again, especially if I have anything to do with it.” 
The overwhelming desire he has to tell you he loves you right now is something he can’t ignore. He’s never had someone in his corner like this before. Had someone that he cared about so deeply and loved be so involved in securing his success, but also reassuring him and instilling confidence back in him. It’s something you were good at as kids too, he couldn’t recall how many times he’d snuck off and hung out with you and your family during your karting years. If he hadn’t had a particularly good race he always knew you’d be there for him no matter what others in his life said or did.
But as much as he’s confident in his true feelings about you and the fact that he really hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, he decides to keep it to himself for the time being. If you by some chance don’t feel the same he doesn’t want to ruin this nice moment or vacation by blabbing his mouth about how he feels. So for now him pressing his lips against yours and the feeling of your hands on him will have to suffice instead of ‘i love you’. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The first race back after summer break is Max’s home race and you both want nothing more than for him to win this one. The usual cool and collected Max has some nerves to him this weekend. You’d been nothing but reassuring and supportive this weekend because you truly think with the little tweaks the team had made to the car and some new strategy techniques that you may have this weekend in the bag, but Max can’t seem to shake the doubt in his mind. He’s of course thrilled to be racing at his home race, but the fact that he hasn’t been winning and that his family is going to be here has his mind working on overdrive. The little boy who hated to be a disappointment is still inside of him no matter the size of the nonchalant facade he tries to put on. 
When Max qualifies P2 you know he’s going to be upset, but you know you guys can work with P2. You two go over the best possible strategy techniques Saturday night and come Sunday morning you’re both feeling good about the race. 
“Alright Max twenty seconds until the formation lap. Be smart and safe.”
Your voice travels through the headset and Max smiles at the last part. It had become a habit of yours to always tell him to be smart and safe over the radio. It’s your way of telling him you care and perhaps subconsciously that you love him and he wants to tell you he loves you back every time, but he knows everyone can hear what is being said, so he settles for the old stand by. 
“Copy.” 
When the lights go out you don’t realize you haven’t taken a breath until Max overtakes Lando on the first turn and you’re breathing out a giant sigh of relief. This is what you guys needed and now all Max needed to do was get some distance between him and Lando and pray for it to be a boring race and he’d be taking that top step. 
“Beautiful Max.”
You know the reassurance over the radio will have him smiling like a fool under his helmet. 
It doesn’t take long though for your confidence about the race to start to diminish. Lando wastes no time in trying to gain his position back and you can tell Max can’t hold him off much longer. He eventually overtakes him and the gap that Lando starts to create is making your stomach turn. You knew if Lando got out in front and into the clean air it would be game over and that’s exactly what happens. With only ten laps left you don’t even want to tell Max how big the gap has gotten, but from his radio silence and him not outright asking, you figure he already knows. 
22 seconds. 
That’s the gap between Lando and Max when the checkered flag waves. Your stomach is in knots as you take off your headset and make your way towards the crowd already forming for the podium celebration. Max still ended up with P2, but to be beaten with a 22 second gap at your home race has got to be killing him. You watch him from below and you can tell his mind is going a mile a minute, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the disappointment from losing the race is written all over him. 
After the podium celebration and the team debrief and every other responsibility that you have on a race weekend, you finally find yourself back at the hotel. Usually you’d be flying back home on his private jet, especially on a weekend like this, but Max opted to fly out first thing in the morning. So while Max finished up the last of his responsibilities you opted to torture yourself some more and go over countless amounts of data from this weekend.
Technically this isn’t even your main job, but if you can somehow figure out what the hell is wrong with this car then you’ll take on whatever job you have to. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been sat at this small hotel room desk, papers scattered everywhere as you hunch over your laptop. The sound of the door opening and closing doesn’t register in your mind and it’s not until you feel two strong hands on your shoulders that you are brought back from the world of tire degradation and sector times. 
“Baby, come on, let's go to bed. We can’t solve this in one night.” His fingers work slowly into your tense muscles and a sigh of relief comes from you as you lean back in the chair, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to work his magic. 
And as good as this feels, your brain wants to talk about the elephant in the room. “So we are gonna pretend like you didn’t get beat with a 22 second gap at your home race?“ His movements halt and you realize you probably could have worded that better. 
“Well I’d actually like to forget about it if that’s alright.” He moves away from you and chooses to sit down on the edge of the bed. His body language is nothing shy of defeated and you could kick yourself for how you spoke. 
“That’s not what I meant to say. It came out wrong. I was just trying to say that I’m trying to figure this out so it doesn’t happen again. We can act like it didn’t happen but it did and there’s clearly a reason here in this data.” 
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly. 
“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want to be hearing, but I’m trying to get you a winning car again Max. I mean this is my first year as your actual engineer and I feel like I’m gonna lose my job if you aren’t winning races. The car is shit and we can’t seem to figure out a good strategy to work with the shit car. I don’t know what the fuck happened from last year to this year but I’m losing my fucking mind. People already think I shouldn’t be here and by not cranking out wins I’m just giving them more ammunition to use against me.” 
You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until you feel Max’s thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Fuck I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on some rant and have a breakdown.” 
You bury your head into his chest as his arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his strong warm embrace. “It’s fine. It’s good to let it out.” One of his hands moves to gently stroke your hair and when you finally pull your head back to look at him, he’s pressing a kiss to your forehead and it tells you everything you need to know. 
“I know we’ve both been under stress, but I didn’t know it was this bad baby. I wish you would have talked to me sooner before it resulted in this.” 
You shrug your shoulders at him. “Didn’t want to be a burden.” 
“You’re never a burden to me. We are a team, remember? Regardless of actually working for the same team, at the end of the day it’s still you and me. Don’t ever feel like you have to bottle things up because you’re worried it will stress me out. We’re in this crazy ass world together yeah?” 
A sniffle comes from you, but your tears had subsided. You find yourself just staring at him, getting lost in those ocean blue eyes and you know you’re so eternally grateful to have a guy like Max in your life. If only the world could see just how compassionate and loving he actually was. 
“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
“Probably be miserable.” 
And there was the smart ass Max that you knew all too well. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The season was coming to an end in a little over a month and you and Max and the whole team had been working overtime in trying to get the cars back up to the normal Red Bull standard that everyone had come to know. Max hadn’t won a race since Spain in June and with only four races left in the season the media had been in a whirlwind over a possible title fight between Max and Lando. You tried not to pay it much mind, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Max wouldn’t win his fourth championship this season. Even with a less dominant car he still went out there and gave it everything and his talent truly showed this season, to see him pulling that car up to podium level multiple times told everyone what they needed to know 
Brazil was this weekend and it’s always a fun race in your opinion. Rain is always expected at least once throughout the weekend and the teams prepare for it, but this weekend it seemed that mother nature didn’t want this race to happen. Qualifying had gotten moved to Sunday morning which made things a little more complicated. If Max wrecked it didn’t give the mechanics much time at all to make any repairs. To make things even worse he was already starting with a five place grid penalty due to power unit change, so he had to make the most of this qualifying. 
The garage is alive preparing to send the cars out for qualifying, but you can see how wet the track is and you can’t lie– you’re nervous. Usually you’d be on the pitwall by now, but you’re lingering in the garage waiting for Max. When he sees you he’s surprised and when you pull him to a somewhat less busy spot of the garage he’s worried that something is wrong. 
“Everything alright?” He asks. 
“Yes. Just wanted to tell you in person to be safe. It looks nasty out there.” 
A smile creeps its way onto his face and before he can tease you about being a softie his head mechanic comes up asking him a question. You take that as a sign to get your ass over to the pitwall before anyone overhears anything else. With your headset on and your nerves at bay for the moment you turn around in your chair to see Max getting into his car. 
“Alright. Green light at the end of the pitlane. Be smart and safe Verstappen.” 
“Always am.” 
You roll your eyes at him and prepare yourself for what could be an interesting qualifying session. When the first cars go out you know there’s going to be multiple crashes, you can just tell. Luckily Max makes it to Q2, but that's where everything goes wrong. A late called yellow flag has Max qualifying P12 which is actually P17 and you know when you hear the static in your headset that what comes out of his mouth is not going to be pretty. 
“What the fuck? Why did they wait that long to pull out the flag? Should have been red to begin with, he went into the wall!” 
“I know Max. We will discuss it later.”
You’re trying to not let himself get more community service, so the less he talks on the radio the better. 
Max is raging as soon as he exits the cockpit of his car and you can tell from the pitwall that he has a bone to pick, but the race is in a few short hours and you have work to do. He can rant all he wants later, but you’re on a mission to somehow get him to win this race all the way from the back of the grid. He doesn’t come and find you for some time, but when he does you two don’t even mention the drama from qualifying. He’s clearly cooled down and you two know it’s now time to lock in and make this strategy work. You two go over three possible strategy plans, but you can tell from the fire in his eyes that he’s planning on pulling out a little bit of Mad Max today. 
There’s maybe a half an hour until lights out and you take that time to go and find your parents who had been invited to attend the race this weekend. You like to think their very cool race engineer daughter is the reason they are here, but unfortunately you are a nepo baby and your Dad was invited because of who he was. Unsurprisingly you find Max and your parents chatting in the garage, Red Bull lanyards hanging from their necks. They greet you with a hug and kiss and Max and your Dad continue to talk while your Mom and you head out into the paddock. 
“How’s the engineer life been treating my baby?” She asks as you two stroll down the paddock. 
“I can’t lie, it's been stressful, but I love it. Helps that I’ve got such a good driver to work with though.” 
“It’s nice to see you two reconnect.” There’s an inflection in her voice and you know there was a totally different meaning behind her words. 
“What is it Mom?” You groan. 
“Nothing. All I said it was nice to see you two reconnect. You two were close as kids and I’m not surprised that you found your way back to each other.” 
You stop in your tracks, turning to face her. “Mom.” 
“It’s truly nothing. It’s just a little bit of Mother’s intuition.” You stare blankly at her– waiting for her to continue. “I’ve heard how you talk to him over the radio, how you two look at each other in pictures, and I’ve witnessed firsthand how you two have acted today. You’re in love with him aren’t you?” Your heart starts to race and you don’t know what to tell her, of course your Mom would know this. She links her arm with yours and you two head back towards the Red Bull garage.
As you two walk through the entrance you find your Dad and Max still talking. Your Mom lowers her voice as she speaks to you. “Your silence tells me that I’m correct.” When Max spots you his whole face lights up and he’s waving for you to come join him and your Dad. “And I’d say it’s pretty safe to say he’s in love with you too.” She whispers to you before heading towards the two men.
You’re dumbfounded as you stand there in the middle of the busy garage, but the sweet sound of a familiar Dutch accent hollering for you has your legs moving before your brain catches up. 
In what seems like no time at all you’re back on the pitwall and the cars are lined up on the grid. After a mess of a formation lap the five lights finally go out and the race is underway. Max wastes no time in making his way through the field and you’re crossing your fingers that this rain on the radar goes around the track, but as the first few droplets fall you know this is about to get interesting. 
Max had made it up to second thanks to a combination of VSCs, other teams pit stops, and then by the grace of the racing gods a red flag. Which gave you guys a free pitstop and allowed for him to hold his P2 position. Things were looking up, but when the red flag lifted it seemed like the rain was only getting heavier. You knew at this point that this was the ultimate test of trust between Max and you. He was blindly following your orders and praying that what you were telling him wasn’t going to have him end up in the wall like so many others. 
“No red flag? This is getting dangerous, even for me.” 
“No red flag.” 
“What the hell?”
“I know. Anything can happen out there. Please be careful.” 
Your fingernails are non-existent at this point and you’re sure you’ve aged ten years from this race alone, but eventually Max overtakes Esteban and after more safety cars and yellow flags it’s down to the last lap. Max has got this and you can feel the happy tears starting to well up in your eyes. And when that checkered flag waves and he’s the first person to see it the whole pitwall and garage erupts into cheers. You would have thought he’d won the championship the way everyone was acting, but he was just reclaiming his spot at the top.
You can’t make your way over to the barricade fast enough and to see the pure joy on his face as he climbs out of the car makes your heart swell with happiness. It had been a long time coming this season and of course his first win in what seemed like forever was one hell of a drive. He comes running over to the team and when he spots you you’re the first person he’s hugging and practically pulling over the barricade. You can feel the happiness radiating off of him and you know that after this that he’s got the championship in the bag. 
The podium celebration was one for the books and to see him radiating up there and smiling down at you had you forgetting that you’re keeping this relationship a secret. But the one thing you know you won’t forget is how in love you felt and what you don’t realize is how bad it’s going to hurt. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The two week break before the triple header that ends the season has you spending some time at headquarters. It's just the usual end of the season stuff, but when an email pops up from HR wanting to schedule a meeting you’re a little concerned. You don’t mention anything to Max, figuring it’s just maybe something silly, but when you walk into the HR office you can sense that it’s not something small. 
“Y/N, so glad you could work this meeting into your schedule. I know you’re a busy woman so I appreciate it.” 
You sit down in one of the plush chairs in front of her desk and you try to calm yourself, if it was something so bad then why would she be so cheery towards you. “Of course. What did you need to discuss with me?” God, could you sound any more robotic? 
Her cheery demeanor turns more serious and when she clasps her hands together on her desk you know this is the moment that someone has found out about you and Max and you’re about to be canned.
“I don’t know how to really go about this, but I’m just going to come right out and say it. There was someone who got into contact with us and claimed to have pictures of you and Max engaging in less than professional activities after his win in Brazil.” 
You’re stunned for a moment and don’t know what to say, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for this moment, yet when you actually hear it you realize you didn’t actually believe that this was the reason you were being called in. You two had been so careful about maintaining professional boundaries while at work and out in public, but apparently not that weekend. 
“I can assure you that’s not the case with Max and I. Did they actually have the photos to back up their claims or is this all just hearsay?” You weren’t going to immediately give it up in case this was a test, but when she pulls out an envelope and slides it across the desk, you know it’s over. 
The envelope though it weighs virtually nothing – feels like the heaviest thing in the world.
When you finally work up the courage to open it you feel like you’re going to throw up. Your palms are sweaty, mouth is watering, and you feel light headed. There in your hands is the thing that is going to ruin your career– pictures of you and Max kissing outside his hotel room in Sao Paulo. How could you two have been so dumb? You aren’t sure if you want to cry or scream or throw up. 
“There’s no denying that it’s you in those photos, but I’m here to give you your options.” 
“Options?” Your eyes are still locked to the photos that are still being held in your shaky hand. 
“Listen. I admire what you’ve accomplished as a woman in a fully male dominated sport. I also know what happens to women who let things like this go public. Their hard work is diminished to becoming their partner's significant other or your hard work could only have been accomplished by selling your body in exchange for promotions. Luckily, I was the one who saw that email and I squashed it early enough to where we won’t have a scandal on our hands, but I need something from you in exchange.” 
You’re like a deer caught in headlights and there's so many things going through your brain that you can’t even communicate with her. 
“I get that this is overwhelming and the last thing you wanted to happen, but right now it’s only you, Max, and me that know about your relationship at Red Bull and we want it to stay that way. I also know that you’ve gotten offers from McLaren and Ferrari to work for them next year and you’ve ignored them.” How did she know about that? You hadn’t told a soul, not even your parents. You’d been mulling over it for some time. You didn’t want to leave Max and you had made a home at Red Bull, but McLaren especially had been so adamant about getting you to join the team. Your contract with Red Bull was only for a year, but you figured they’d resign you, now it doesn’t seem that way. “So, you’re only real option here if you want to continue to make a name for yourself in this world is to break things off with Max and accept one of those offers.” 
Your eyes snap up towards hers and you can feel your heart about ready to beat out of your chest. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but my higher ups will not want to deal with this scandal if you two continue to be careless. There will be no workplace romance, you will be gone and your hardwork will be for nothing. I followed your journey Y/N, you deserve to be out there racing with all of them, but life gave you lemons and you somehow made some damn good lemonade. Now don’t let them drink your lemonade.” 
She takes the photos and the envelope out of your hands and you hear her put them through the paper shredder. You feel like you’re frozen in time, like how you felt back in that meeting at Williams all those years ago. “I’m sure it’s nothing too serious between you two anyways. So this shouldn’t be a hard decision.” 
You’re brought back to reality and the words are slipping past your lips before you even realize it. “It’s not serious.” 
Yes it is. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The following days leading up to Vegas are a blur, you try to drown yourself in your work and Max can’t seem to leave you alone. It’s not that you don’t want to see him, it’s just that you’re waging a war in your mind right now and he’s at the root of it. 
You try to ignore the impending doom hanging over your head and actually enjoy this weekend. If Max finishes one place ahead of Lando this weekend he’s going to be a four time World’s Driver Champion. It’s the thing you guys have worked towards the whole season and to see it finally come together might be one of the highlights of your career. Vegas as always is a spectacle, the lights, the parties, the celebrities. It’s nothing like any of the European races or really any other race if you were being honest. 
When the sun sets and the track lights come on your mind only focuses on the task at hand and not the ultimate ultimatum you’ve been given. Qualifying goes somewhat to plan, Max didn’t manage to get pole but he does qualify ahead of Lando, which puts him in a great spot for tomorrow. He’s buzzing once he gets out of the car and when he finds you he can tell there’s something slightly off with you. Your energy isn’t necessarily what it usually is, but he figures maybe you’re cold and tired, so he doesn’t press the matter. 
You try to follow the script the following night, but the longer this thing festers in your brain the more you can’t keep on your poker face. 
“Twenty seconds till formation lap. Be smart and safe.” 
“Copy.” 
The race thankfully is pretty unremarkable. The main goal tonight was to just beat Lando, if you managed to score a win also that would be great, but the Championship was what you were going after tonight. 
And that’s just what Max does. 
The roars from the crowd and the team as Max crosses the finish line before Lando are deafening and you can feel the mixture of happy and sad tears streaming down your face. 
“Max! You’re a four time champion!” 
It’s nothing but pure glee back from him across the radio and you can’t help but laugh at the simply lovely through the tears. You managed to pull yourself together and accept the congrats from the rest of the pitwall and make your way through the crowd to see if you can find Max, but he’s already trying to find you. The crowd makes space for you to get to the barricade and when Max spots you there’s nothing but love in his eyes and it absolutely kills you. He pulls you up over the barricade and envelopes you in the most bone crushing hug you’ve ever experienced. There’s millions of cameras around so you have to be careful, but you savor the moment for as long as you can. “We did it!” Max exclaims and you can see the happy tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. 
“We did! I told you it was gonna happen, didn't I?” 
Seconds later you two get into a Rolls Royce with a cameraman that takes you along the track. You look over at him and he’s radiating with happiness and the ache in your chest only seems to grow. “I’m so proud of you Max.” That smile that you love so dearly beams back at you and you want to reach out and caress his cheek, but you know you can’t.  
“I couldn’t have done this without you. This championship is as much yours as it is mine. I hope you know that.” He goes to reach for your hand, but then remembers the cameraman and quickly snatches it away. Silence fills the luxurious car and you know Max is trying to take in being a four time back to back champion, while you’re coming to terms with the fact that not too long from now you’re going to not only break the man you love’s heart, but your own. 
That little girl with a dream is still inside of you, she’s with you every race weekend. You love Max more than you should, but you know if you continue on with this you’ll be the one losing your job and not him. It’s not fair, but you learned that life isn’t fair early on and you’ll be damned if you allow yourself to lose something else that you worked so hard to achieve. So if that means losing Max and moving teams then you guess that's how it has to be. Your Dad’s words replay in your head ‘it’ll pass’ and you know that nothing ever truly passes and that all you do is learn to live with it. The ache gets weaker over time, but it never truly goes away.
Even though you found a new dream to pursue you still have moments of truly missing racing. Like when you see the pure excitement and joy on Max’s face when he wins a race or when you see the adrenaline radiating off of him when he gets out of the car, you can’t ignore that ache in your chest. You can’t help but sometimes still think that should be you and you know you shouldn’t feel like that about the man you love, but you’ve never been able to live through him. He’s told you so many times that his wins and now this championship are as much yours as they are his because without you he wouldn’t be able to win. But those words do nothing to heal the teenage girl who got her dreams shattered just because she was a girl. You want to be able to have your dream and keep the man you love, but the career you chose doesn’t allow for you to have both. So for that little girl that still lives inside of you, you choose your dream. 
You attend all the team celebrations and end up getting soaked in champagne more times than you can count and you try to savor every last moment you have with Max and that includes going out and celebrating and coming back to his hotel room and celebrating some more. You savor it all fully knowing this is the last time you’re going to make love to him and kiss him and be held by him. And when he finally decides to fully bare his heart to you as you lay in his arms that night, you stick your knife right through it. 
“I love you.” 
You don’t answer him for a moment and you know this is how it’s got to happen. The longer you wait the harder it’s going to be. 
“It’ll pass.” 
Max isn’t sure he heard you right and he’s choking on his own words trying to form a coherent sentence. “What are you talking about schatje?” 
The tears are already falling down your cheeks and you know there is no coming back from this. “Please don’t call me that.” 
Max removes you from his grasp and sits up in bed. “Why not?” 
“It makes this harder than it needs to be.” 
He’s more than confused at the moment. His heart is racing and you’re crying and he doesn’t understand what is going on. He just won his fourth championship and finally told the woman of his dreams that he loves her and she replies with it’ll pass? “Y/N what the hell is going on? I love you and I know you love me back. I see it in your eyes when you talk to me or when you look at me. I hear it when you tell me to be safe as I line up on the grid. Am I a fool or something? Have I been blind this whole time?” 
“I love you more than you could imagine.” 
“Then why are you sobbing and telling me it’ll pass and asking me to not call you schatje?” In the back of his mind he knows, but he doesn’t want to come to terms with it. 
You just want to pull him back into your arms and kiss him and take back everything you’ve said so far, but you can’t and you wish this wasn’t your reality at the moment. “We can’t be together anymore Max.” 
He furrows his eyebrows at you, he really can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. “Are you being serious? Like are you being totally honest with me right now? Because we have something special here Y/N. I want to know why you’re throwing this away so easily.” 
You take a shaky deep breath and sit up next to him in the bed. “Someone got a picture of us kissing outside your hotel room in Brazil and Red Bull’s HR got wind of it. I got called in and she showed me the pictures. They squashed it before it got out, but Max, she basically told me that if we were to come out as a couple that I’d lose my job. I can’t afford to lose out another dream of mine Max. You don’t understand what it’s like.” 
He grabs your hand and the simple feeling of his skin on yours has more tears rolling down your cheeks. “Listen, I’d give away every championship every wi-” 
“You don’t mean that Max.” 
He’s up out of the bed at this point and you fear it’s only going to escalate from here.
“For fucks sake yes I do! I know we’ve made things a little complicated, but we can make it work. I mean I’m Max Ver-” 
“Exactly, you’re Max Verstappen. You won’t have to worry about losing your job over this. You’re F1’s golden boy, world famous Max Verstappen. It’ll be a little slap on the wrist for you, but for me in this boys club? It’ll be hell. I’ll be painted a whore, a girl whose only way to have gotten into this position was to have had sex with every guy I had to. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the best drivers of your generation and not get to follow your childhood dreams simply because no one wants to take the chance on signing a female driver. I’ve had to give up one of my dreams and I’m not about to have to lose another one. So yes, I love you and it’s fucking killing me inside to do this, but sometimes we have to let go of the things we love. This horrible heart wrenching feel we are both experiencing will pass. I promise you. You deserve to be with someone who can give you their all.” 
He sits down at the end of the bed, your words finally sinking in and he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. Like he's gone into the wall at full speed. “I don’t want anyone else but you Y/N.” You crawl to the end of the bed and wrap your arms around him and it’s at that moment you realize he’s crying too and the last little bit of your heart that’s intact finally breaks. “I’m not gonna be able to convince you to stay am I?” 
You press a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder. “No.” You whisper. “I’m probably always gonna love you Max, but this is how it has to be.” 
His hand reaches up and grabs yours and a shaky breath escapes from him before he speaks. “Guess you finally made me cry didn’t you?” 
FIA Gala 2025 
The black gown you’ve chosen to wear tonight is stunning, but you’ve still not grown accustomed to wearing them. And you haven’t grown to like these fancy Galas either, but you’ve got to go to it though. You’re being honored for being the first female engineer to win back to back WDCs with two different drivers on two different teams . Your season with McLaren this year was nothing shy of spectacular and people actually started to recognize your talent.
You’ve been nursing this glass of champagne for some time now, listening to the team talk about the season while all you can think about is taking this dress off later. They get called over to a different table to talk with some sponsors and you take the alone time to scroll through your phone. You’re just about ready to go and see if there’s anything here other than champagne when you hear him speak from behind you and that all too familiar ache blooms in your chest.
“Is this seat taken?” 
1K notes · View notes
sleepyhoon · 3 months ago
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THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH
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pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader
genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).
word count. 12.2k+
warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]
summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.
a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion.  also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!
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When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.
Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.
By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.
The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.
Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”
Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”
She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”
Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”
You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?
Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.
It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway. 
All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.
“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.
“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.
Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”
Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.
When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.
The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.
Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?
Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process. 
The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.
Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.
You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.
So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.
A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?
“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.
You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”
“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.
She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”
Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing. 
You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.
Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”
The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.
Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”
“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”
She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.
While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.
This really is worse than Halloween 2007.
“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”
“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”
You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”
Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.
Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.
A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.
“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”
“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”
“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”
“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well, neither are you.” 
His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.
And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes. 
You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. 
Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”
“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”
Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.
There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.
Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.
“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.
“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.
He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.
“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”
Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.
“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”
Great.
You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”
Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.
It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.
After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.
You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.
Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.
Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.
One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.
The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.
You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”
Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.
He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.
Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.
Men.
He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”
You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”
Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”
He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”
You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”
“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”
This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”
Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”
A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”
Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.
He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends. 
Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.
“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”
Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.
“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”
Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.
“Yell at you? For what?”
“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”
“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.
He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”
You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.
You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.
Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.
Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.
You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.
To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other. 
The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.
But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.
“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.
He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”
“That doesn’t even sound possible.”
“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.” 
It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.
Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.
When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words. 
Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now. 
You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”
Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.
If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.
You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do. 
His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.
Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.
“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.
“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.
“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”
Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.
Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”
Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”
In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?
You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”
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What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.
While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.
“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.
“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”
“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”
“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to. 
Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”
The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her. 
You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”
Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”
Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.
Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.
“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”
You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.
Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.
Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.
That other part was probably true, though.
You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best. 
Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.
Fuck, are you really about to do this? 
Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween. 
But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.
Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”
“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.
“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”
Thank God.
After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way. 
You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.
The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.
Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”
The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.
Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”
You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.
“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”
Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”
You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.
This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off. 
He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.
You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.
Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.
“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”
They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.
Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”
“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.
“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.
“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”
Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.
Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.
“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”
“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”
“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”
Minnie? Fuck is that about?
Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”
“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.
“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”
You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”
On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…
“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.
Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.
Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.
Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.
“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.
“What?! Why?!”
“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”
This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.
Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”
“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.
Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”
He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.
It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”
Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”
“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”
Halloween fucking sucks.
You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.
Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you. 
He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”
Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”
It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.
You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.
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Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.
He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.
What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.
Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.
"And say what? That I'm with you?"
Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."
That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.
You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.
Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.
As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"
"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.
Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"
"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.
"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
You hate that even now, you find him cute.
"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.
"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."
Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"
"The full story isn't important, Yuna."
"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."
"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."
Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.
You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."
The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."
"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."
"And what will I get out of this?"
Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.
"Well, what do you want?"
"I don't know…a normal older sister?"
"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"
Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.
"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."
You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."
"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.
As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.
You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you. 
What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.
You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.
"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.
"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."
"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."
Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you. 
Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night. 
You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.
"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump. 
He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".
You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"
Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.
"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.
The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.
The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.
The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.
Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.
Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.
The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.
"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock. 
He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.
The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.
Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.
After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.
The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"
"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.
"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."
Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.
He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.
"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.
Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."
Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.
You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader. 
"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon. 
"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.
The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.
On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily. 
Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.
You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat. 
When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.
Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like,  telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um,  later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.
And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."
You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.
you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*
you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much
you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please
yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/
Harsh but true.
You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.
Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."
Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat. 
The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.
Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.
You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.
"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.
You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.
Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"
He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.
"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"
Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"
"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.
"Um…yeah. I know."
"Okay…how?"
"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"
"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."
Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.
Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."
"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.
"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."
You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.
You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.
You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.
"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.
You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.
Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"
You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."
He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"
When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."
"It isn't."
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"
This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.
Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.
In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?
Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.
The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.
You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.
He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."
You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.
"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.
You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."
Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."
"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.
Fuck.
"Sunghoon…"
"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction. 
You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.
He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him. 
His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.
Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.
"Wait, Sunghoon—!"
Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."
You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.
His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.
Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.
Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"
"No, please don't." You beg.
"So this is okay then, right?"
If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"
Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.
You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.
It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.
But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.
The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.
The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."
He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the 
front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."
It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.
"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"
Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.
You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.
You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away. 
"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body. 
He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.
After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.
"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."
He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.
You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.
Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.
You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.
"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"
He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"
You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."
It's music to his ears, really.
Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.
"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.
"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."
He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."
You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."
Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.
Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.
Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.
He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.
"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.
You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"
"Please, I need you to."
Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.
The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.
He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.
"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.
"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."
"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.
He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.
You nod, "Please, keep going."
He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.
The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.
Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.
Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.
He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."
Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."
He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."
"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."
Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.
"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.
"Yeah, why?"
"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."
You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"
"I can pay for your Uber home."
"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."
"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."
You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"
"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."
Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.
"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.
Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.
The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place. 
In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days. 
Three weeks. And Three days.
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rosenclaws · 3 months ago
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The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader
summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable
warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.
Don't like it don't read it :)
Halloween Masterlist
wc: 3.7k
a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops
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You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.
He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.
It's just not fair.
You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.
You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.
"Logan!"
"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.
"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.
"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.
"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.
"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.
"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."
"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.
You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.
It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.
Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.
"What do you want weasel?"
"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.
"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.
"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.
"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.
He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.
"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.
"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."
"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "
Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.
"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.
"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.
It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.
"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.
"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.
"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.
Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.
"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."
"What?!"
"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.
"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.
"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.
“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”
It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.
“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.
“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.
"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.
"What?"
"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.
You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.
“That’s cheating,”
“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.
“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.
“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.
You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.
“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.
“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.
“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.
“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.
“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.
“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?
“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.
Then. He moans. He fucking moans.
You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.
“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.
“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.
“Shut up.”
“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.
“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.
“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”
“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.
If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.
“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.
“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.
“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.
“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.
His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.
“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.
“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.
“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.
“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.
“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.
“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.
“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.
“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.
“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.
“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.
Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.
“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.
“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.
“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.
“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.
“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.
He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.
“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.
“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.
“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “
So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.
Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.
“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.
Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.
“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.
All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.
“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.
“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.
Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.
“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.
“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”
“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.
“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.
Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.
“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.
“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.
“I always cared.”
“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.
“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.
“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.
“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.
“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.
“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.
“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.
“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.
He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 
He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.
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wrioluvr · 1 year ago
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sub yandere inmate x gn! prison warden reader
thank u all for 1000+ notes on my last post omg....<3 short fic about an idea i had as i work on part 2 of the sub yandere x himbo reader ♡♡♡ kinda wriothesley inspired coz thats bae...
cw: mentions of nsfw
"so let me get this straight." you sighed, looking at the man who was currently on the other side of the bars in disappointment. "you beat up some of the other inmates and got into a fight because.... they were talking shit about me?"
"exactly..... they were saying you were too strict! but they don't know how much you care for us.... such ungrateful bastards." his last words came out with an obvious distaste. he held the bars of his cell tightly, looking into your eyes imploringly for any sign of validation. "aren't... aren't you proud of me?"
you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "no. you can't just hurt other people for my sake. i'm your warden. i can handle a few snarky comments." he had always been rather attached to you, but he had been acting overly clingy and whiny in the past few weeks. you wondered if solitary confinement was finally getting to his head.
at your words, he crumbled a little, sadness evident in the lines of his pout. your approval meant everything to him, so you being annoyed with him was the worst feeling in the world. but all of a sudden, he perked back up, seemingly coming up with a devilish idea. his voice dropped to a low whisper. "you know.... if you're that upset with me, i'm always ready for punishment." to get his point across, he pressed his ass to the bars, moaning softly as he felt the cold metal graze his hole. "a spanking would be perfect."
you immediately took a step back, glaring at him. "i don't believe in corporal punishment." you said sternly, trying to deter him from getting any more perverted ideas in his head. "you're not even really interested in getting better, are you?"
"whaaat. i am! come onnnnn. the only way you can get me to behave is if you spank me. i'll be a good boy. i promise."
"you know what would be a better punishment?"
"what?" his eyes light up at the thought of you taking the initiative to put him in his place.
"if i don't partake in your twisted scenarios and leave right now. try not to get into any more fights, okay?" you walked away, shaking your head as you wondered what on earth you would do with this pathetic man.
"seriously? no! come back...." he whined, slumping back down onto his bed, defeated. but at least he had got your attention with that stunt... you had been paying far more attention to the other inmates recently.
he giggles to himself, staring up at the ceiling of his cell. a few years meant nothing, if it meant that once he was out he could live out the rest of his days as your malewife, taking care of your every need. that was the one thing keeping him going. you wouldn't be so cruel as to deny him of his fantasy, would you?
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alastorss · 11 months ago
Note
I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p
a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.
He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.
After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.
It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.
However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.
He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.
He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.
Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.
Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.
"You were awake?!"
Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.
"So it is you!"
You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.
"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.
Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."
You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"
He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.
"Not at all."
You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.
The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.
He decides they suit him after all.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)
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icanimagine08 · 23 days ago
Text
Whipped
Summary: Yoon Jeonghan gets teased by the rest of seventeen for being whipped for his girl.
Warnings: none! Just Fluff.
Word Count: 773
I couldn't wait to post so here is another Yoon Jeonghan fic. Hope you guys enjoy this! and if you have any requests for any other members/people/characters feel free to request/ask me anything and I'll see what I can do! Happy reading! :)
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Yoon Jeonghan of Seventeen wasn’t usually the type to wear his heart on his sleeve—at least, not when it came to romance. He was clever, always a step ahead, and had a teasing streak as wide as the Han River. But since he started dating you six months ago, Jeonghan’s members had noticed a... shift.
And they were having the time of their lives teasing him about it.
It started during a lazy afternoon at the dorm. The group had finished their schedules for the day, and the members were sprawled across the living room, half-watching a drama on TV. Jeonghan, who usually dominated conversations with his witty comebacks, was unusually quiet. His phone was in his hand, and he was smiling at the screen in a way that made the others take notice.
"Oh, would you look at that," Seungkwan said, his voice laced with mock surprise. "Our Hannie hyung is smiling. At his phone. Again."
Minghao leaned over from the couch, trying to catch a glimpse of Jeonghan's screen. "Is it her?"
Jeonghan’s smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced with an annoyed pout. He locked his phone and turned it face down on the table. "Mind your own business, Minghao."
But the damage was done. The members perked up, sensing an opportunity to torment their usually unflappable hyung.
"Oh, it’s definitely her," Joshua chimed in, grinning. "Jeonghan only smiles like that when it’s about her."
"What did she say?" Woozi asked, though the slight upward tilt of his lips gave away that he was more amused than genuinely curious.
"Nothing," Jeonghan mumbled, slumping into the couch like he could disappear into the cushions.
"Nothing?" Vernon repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "You were practically giggling."
"I don’t giggle," Jeonghan shot back, but the redness creeping up his neck betrayed him.
"Sure, sure," Seungkwan said, waving him off. "Hyung, we all know you’re whipped. Just admit it."
"I am not whipped," Jeonghan insisted, but his voice lacked its usual conviction.
"You absolutely are," Mingyu said, chuckling. "Remember last week when you asked the manager if you could get off early so you could take her to that café she likes?"
"That’s called being a good boyfriend," Jeonghan retorted, sitting up straighter. "Maybe you should take notes, Mingyu."
"A good boyfriend who’s whipped," Dino added, earning a high-five from Seungkwan.
Jeonghan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I regret introducing you all to her."
That wasn’t true, and they all knew it. From the moment you and Jeonghan had made your relationship official, the members had been nothing but supportive. They’d even gone so far as to declare you "the perfect match" for their mischievous angel, as you somehow managed to keep up with Jeonghan’s antics while also bringing out his softer side. But their enthusiasm also meant they saw every little way Jeonghan’s walls had come down, and they weren’t going to let him live it down.
"You’re so good for him," Seungkwan had told you during a group dinner a month ago, while Jeonghan had gone to get drinks. "It’s like you’re his kryptonite. He’s so soft for you."
Now, as Jeonghan endured their teasing, he couldn’t help but think of you and the way you’d probably laugh if you saw this. You’d tell him he deserved it, and honestly, he’d have to agree.
"Alright, that’s enough," Jeonghan said, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Yes, I’m dating someone amazing. Yes, I like doing nice things for her. Can we move on now?"
"Not yet," Seungkwan said, leaning forward with a sly grin. "Hyung, did you text her goodnight last night?"
"Of course I did," Jeonghan replied, without thinking.
"Aha!" Seungkwan pointed dramatically. "See? Whipped!"
The room erupted in laughter, and even Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle. He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips despite himself.
"You’re all children," he muttered, but his tone was fond.
Later that evening, when the teasing had finally died down and the members had dispersed, Jeonghan found himself back on the couch, phone in hand. He opened your chat and started typing.
Jeonghan: Remind me why I put up with them again?
Your reply came almost instantly.
YN: Because they love you. And they’re right, you are kinda whipped.
Jeonghan groaned, but he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. He typed back quickly.
Jeonghan: You’re lucky I love you.
YN: I know. ;)
Jeonghan set his phone down, leaning back against the couch, he closed his eyes with a content smile. If his members wanted to play, they’d better be ready for Jeonghan to play back
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jupiterpilgrim · 16 days ago
Text
Embracing the Mission
Christmas Special 🎄
Julie x Natty x Belle x Male Reader
word count 14K
A/n: last fic of the Christmas Special
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Christmas Eve. Quiet, solemn, lonely. The kind of night where you can’t decide if you’re grateful for the silence or crushed beneath its weight. You drag yourself up the stairs, the old wood creaking under your feet. The dull glow of Christmas lights spills from the living room, blinking in patterns that feel more mocking than festive. You’ve always been a good guy, the dependable one, the “nice” one, but here you are, one stocking hung, one bed waiting for nobody but yourself.
At the top of the stairs, just as your hand brushes the railing, the doorbell rings.
You freeze.
Who the hell rings a doorbell on Christmas Eve this late? Solicitors don’t work tonight, and your neighbors barely talk to you during daylight hours. For a long moment, you consider ignoring it. Then it rings again—insistent, cheery.
You shuffle back down, mumbling under your breath about late-night pranks and cold drafts. Pulling the door open, you’re met with a sight that doesn’t just stop your breath; it slams it into reverse.
Two girls stand on your porch. They’re stunning in a way that should be illegal. The first one has curves so generous they practically defy gravity, her chest straining against a red and green corset that looks stitched from mischief itself. Her long, dark hair frames a face you could mistake for angelic if not for the sly twinkle in her eyes.
“Hi! I’m Natty!” she says brightly, as if this is the most normal introduction in the world.
Beside her, the other one radiates an entirely different energy: poised, commanding, her toned body wrapped in something close to a uniform, sharp lines of green velvet hugging her hips. Her dark brown hair glints in the soft light, and the arch of her brow suggests she’s used to being in charge.
“I’m Julie,” she says, her voice smoother, more measured. Then, in perfect unison, they chirp:
“And we need your help!”
You blink. Then you blink again. “Uh…”
“Wait, where’s Belle?” Julie cuts you off, her brow furrowing as she scans the space behind you.
“Typical,” Natty groans, folding her arms beneath her chest, which only makes the situation more distracting. “Always late.”
Before you can process any of this, a loud thunk echoes from inside your house, followed by a flurry of soot and a muffled cough. Spinning around, you see something—a someone—sprawled across your fireplace hearth.
“What the hell—”
The girl clambers to her feet, brushing coal dust off a mess of blonde hair. She's the same height as that other girl, Julie. With delicate features and wide, apologetic dark eyes that suggest she’s either innocent or very good at faking it. She’s wearing a short red dress streaked with ash, and she’s scowling as if this is somehow your fault.
“Belle!” Natty snaps. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You said to come in sneaky!” Belle protests, hands on her hips. “The chimney’s sneaky!”
“Not that sneaky, dumbass,” Julie groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Even Santa Claus doesn’t actually use chimneys. That’s a marketing thing.”
“You said stealth!” Belle shoots back, still smudged with coal and radiating indignation. “Stealth means unconventional entry points! It’s basic infiltration tactics!”
“I swear, I’m going to—” Natty starts, but Julie waves her off, taking a deep breath.
“Let’s just… move on. The whole night’s a disaster already.”
With that, they sweep past you and invade your home.
“Okay, hold up,” you interrupt, raising your hands. “Who are you people, and why are you in my house?!”
Julie turns her piercing gaze on you, suddenly all business. “We’re Santa’s elves.”
You stare. They stare back.
“…Elves,” you repeat.
“Uh-huh,” Natty confirms, nodding so enthusiastically that her chest threatens to break free of its corset.
Belle perks up. “Yeah! We work at the North Pole!” She pauses, then adds, “Well, usually. Technically, we’re on maternity leave before the fact.”
“Maternity leave?”
Julie steps forward, her voice low and commanding. “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. The birth rate in the North Pole is… concerningly low. Like, end-of-our-species low. We need help. Specifically, your help.”
“…My help,” you echo, your brain lagging behind the speed of this conversation.
Natty leans in, her lips quirking in a teasing smile. “We need you to get us pregnant.”
For a moment, the world tilts sideways. “Is this some kind of weird prank? Am I being filmed?”
“It sounds fake, doesn’t it?” Belle says, skipping over to you with a little bounce in her step. “But it’s totally true! Look—” She grabs your hand and drags it toward her head.
“Whoa, what are you—”
“Feel my ear!”
You hesitate, then give in, tugging lightly at one of her pointy ears. It’s soft, warm, pliant, and very much attached to her skull.
“Ow!” she yelps, batting your hand away. “What are you, a sadist?”
“They’re real,” you whisper, finally starting to believe them.
“Duh,” Natty says with a smirk. “So? You in?”
Your laugh comes out half-hysterical. “You think I’m just going to say yes to… to that?!”
Julie crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve always been a good boy. Generous, kind, single…”
“That’s why I’m single!” you snap, throwing your hands in the air. “I don’t go around impregnating random women—elf women—on Christmas!”
“See?” Belle chimes in. “He is perfect. I told you.”
You groan, running a hand down your face. “This can’t be happening.”
“It’s happening,” Natty says, stepping closer. Her scent—cinnamon and something sweeter—fills your lungs, and suddenly the room feels ten degrees hotter.
Julie’s voice softens, almost coaxing. “All we’re asking is that you help save a species. A race. Think of it as… the ultimate Christmas gift.”
Belle pipes up, already raiding your kitchen. “If you'll excuse me, I'm hungry!”
Natty plops herself onto your couch like she owns the place, her corset straining as she lounges back, legs crossed. Belle's rifling through your fridge now, pulling out milk like this is her second home, while Julie perches herself neatly on the armrest of the chair across from you, her hands clasped like she’s about to break into a corporate PowerPoint presentation.
Julie clears her throat. “All right, let’s break this down. The North Pole is in crisis.”
“Oh, no,” you deadpan, flopping into the recliner. “Is Mrs. Claus filing for divorce? Did Santa get caught in a Ponzi scheme?”
Belle laughs from the kitchen, milk mustache and all. Natty, meanwhile, grins. “Ooh, I like him. He’s got jokes.”
“Let’s stay focused,” Julie says sharply, shooting a glare at both of them before turning back to you. “It’s not a joke. The population at the Pole is dwindling. Our fertility rates have been tanking for decades.”
“Have you ever considered having sex with other elves?” you ask
“Ha,” Julie deadpans. “No. It’s a genetic bottleneck problem. Too much inbreeding, not enough diversity.”
“Oh, God,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Am I about to be roped into a weird elf eugenics experiment? I didn’t sign up for this.”
Natty leans forward, her cleavage doing distracting things that seem entirely intentional. “You’re not roped into anything, sweetheart. But let’s just say you’ve been on the Nice List for decades. That’s not common. We figured, hey, why not pick someone who’s already a certified good boy?”
Belle chimes in from the kitchen, still munching on what might be your last box of Oreos. “And it’s not like you’ve got any plans tonight, right?”
You glare at her. “I could’ve had plans.”
“With who?” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she holds up a half-eaten cookie. “These? Didn’t think so.”
Julie rubs her temples like she’s dealing with toddlers. “The point is, the North Pole relies on elves to keep everything running smoothly. Toy production, reindeer care, Santa’s logistics—”
“—the strip club down on Candy Cane Lane—” Natty interjects with a wink.
Julie doesn’t miss a beat. “—all of it requires a stable population. We’re dangerously low. If we don’t start producing new elves, the entire system collapses.”
“Okay, but why me?” you ask, gesturing at yourself like there must be some mistake. “There’s eight billion people on the planet. You couldn’t have found someone… better qualified?”
Natty shrugs. “Most people don’t qualify for the Nice List. And a lot of the ones who do are, like, seven years old.”
“Or old ladies who bake cookies for their neighbors,” Belle adds.
“And you’re… what? Prime reproductive age? Decent genetics? Plus, you live alone, so no messy drama with spouses or girlfriends. Frankly, you’re the perfect candidate,” Julie finishes matter-of-factly.
You snort. “Wow, thanks. Nothing boosts a guy’s ego like being told he’s a walking sperm donor with no social life.”
“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Natty says, standing up and sauntering over to you. She plants her hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until her face is inches from yours. “You’re also cute.”
Your brain short-circuits for a second before you manage to sputter, “Girls, this is crazy. It sounds like something out of an erotic fiction written by a sick mind.”
“It’s practical,” Julie counters. “We’re not asking you to marry us. We’re asking for your… genetic material. Through, uh, direct methods.”
“Oh, is that all?” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sure, let me just whip out my North Pole application and put ‘elf breeding kink’ under special skills.”
Belle wanders over now, plopping onto the couch and curling her legs beneath her. “Look, it’s not like you’re doing it for free. Think of it as an exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You get to help save Christmas and have sex with three hot elves. Win-win, right? It's not that difficult, elves are very, very fertile.”
Natty grins, her lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as she whispers, “Bet no one’s ever left that off their bucket list.”
You shove her away gently, shaking your head. “You’re all insane. I should call the cops.”
“Oh, please,” Belle scoffs. “What’re you gonna say? ‘Help, three elves broke into my house and asked me to impregnate them’? You’d be on YouTube before the night’s over.”
“Wait, do elves also watch YouTube?”
Julie sighs, standing up and dusting off her hands. “Listen, we’ll give you some time to think about it. But let’s be clear—this isn’t just about us. It’s about every elf, every reindeer, every child who wakes up on Christmas morning hoping for magic.”
"Be mindful, this could be a total game-changer!” Belle exclaims. “Imagine if other elves join us, we'd have the numbers to make the North Pole council change their rules. Interracial babies for everyone! It would be legendary!” She's clearly excited about the idea.
“That’s a lot of pressure,” you mutter.
Natty strokes your arm, her smile equal parts playful and predatory. “You’ll rise to the occasion. I can feel it.”
Belle snickers. “Or we’ll make you.”
You shut your bedroom door, leaning against it like it might keep the insanity out. Your room feels smaller, tighter, like the walls are closing in on you. You sink onto the edge of the bed, staring at your hands, the events of the last hour replaying in loops too ridiculous to comprehend.
Three elves. Pregnant. By you.
You look at the glow-in-the-dark clock on your wall, its numbers mocking you. Midnight, Christmas Day. The kind of moment that should be filled with a warm cup of cocoa, maybe a silly Christmas movie in the background. Instead, you’re debating whether to turn your house into the world’s weirdest fertility clinic.
You groan, dragging your hands through your hair. It’s not like you’re against the idea. They’re beautiful—beyond beautiful—but this isn’t just some quick hookup. They’re asking for something bigger. Permanent. And yeah, it’d be easy to chalk it up to a crazy story you tell yourself later, but you can’t stop thinking about what it would mean.
Kids. Real, flesh-and-blood kids. Yours.
You’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know how heavy the quiet can get. It’s not the sex you’re hesitating about—it’s what comes after. You can’t just pump and dump (so to speak). That’s not who you are.
A burst of laughter from the living room pulls you out of your spiral. You push yourself off the bed and head to the door. Whatever decision you make, it’s better than sitting here stewing in your own head.
When you step back into the living room, they’re sprawled across your couch like they’ve lived here for years. The TV’s on, tuned to some Christmas classic, though the sound’s muted. Natty’s flipping through your Blu-ray collection, shaking her head at your lack of romantic comedies. Belle’s halfway through a bag of chips you’re pretty sure you were saving for New Year’s.
“You know, those were mine,” you say, pointing at the chips.
She grins, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. “Finders, eaters.”
Julie barely glances up from where she’s scrolling on your phone. “So? Have you come to your senses?”
You take a deep breath, stepping further into the room. “I’ve made my decision.”
The room goes still. Belle pauses mid-chew. Natty freezes with a DVD case in hand. Julie sits up straighter, her eyes locked on you like a hawk.
“I’ll do it,” you say. “On one condition.”
Natty perks up immediately. “Name it, stud.”
“I want to see the kids.”
The room practically tilts sideways with the weight of their confusion.
Julie narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t want to just… make them and never see them again,” you explain, running a hand over the back of your neck. “If we’re doing this, I want to be part of their lives. I want to know them. I want to have a family.”
They all stare at you like you just grew a second head. Even Belle, who has been entirely food-focused until now, sets the chips down to gape at you.
Julie is the first to recover, though her tone is softer now. “Why? That wasn’t part of the deal. You’d be doing your… civic duty, so to speak. Why do you care what happens after?”
You shrug, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I made a mistake. I don’t want to be a ghost in their lives. Hell, I don’t even have anyone now, let alone a family. Maybe this is my chance.”
That last part slips out before you can stop it, and you immediately regret how vulnerable it sounds.
The elves exchange glances. Natty bites her lip, Julie furrows her brow, and Belle just looks vaguely guilty. Without a word, they huddle together in the corner, whispering furiously.
“Oh, come on, you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” you call out, gesturing to their huddle.
“Shh!” Natty waves a dismissive hand at you, her voice muffled. “We’re deliberating.”
Belle glances back at you once, her lips twitching like she might smile. Julie smacks her on the arm, dragging her back into their huddle.
After what feels like an eternity, they break apart, turning to face you with synchronized seriousness. Julie steps forward as the spokesperson.
“Alright. We’ll allow it.”
“Allow it?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” she continues, ignoring your tone. “It’s unconventional, but you’ve proven yourself to be… an exceptionally good boy.”
Natty snickers. “You’re, like, too good. It’s almost weird.”
Belle beams. “It’s sweet!”
You exhale, relief flooding through you. “Okay, good. Then we’re all on the same page.”
Julie smirks, tilting her head toward the hallway. “We are. Now, let’s get started.”
Before you can process her words, Natty grabs one hand, Julie takes the other, and they start tugging you toward the bedroom.
“Wait, right now?” you stammer, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.
“Uh, yeah,” Natty says, throwing a playful wink over her shoulder. “You’re not getting out of this, Mister Family Man.”
Belle trails behind, licking chip dust off her fingers as she grins, a new bag in the other hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait my turn. I’m still eating.”
The door to your bedroom looms closer, and for the first time all night, you realize you might actually be in over your head.
The bedroom feels both foreign and familiar, lit softly by the glow of Christmas lights strung around the window. Julie and Natty waste no time, their hands still locked around yours as they pull you toward the bed, their intentions as clear as the sly smiles on their faces. Your heart hammers in your chest as the door clicks shut behind Belle, her footsteps slow and casual.
Natty is the first to spin around, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as she steps in close, the scent of peppermint and something deeper, muskier, teasing your senses. Julie mirrors her movements, sliding behind you with a grace that’s almost predatory, her hands grazing your shoulders.
You’re caught between them, their bodies pressed against you—soft and warm in all the right places. Julie’s lips ghost over your ear, her voice a low purr. “You’re nervous. Don’t be. We’ll make this… unforgettable.”
Natty chuckles, her hands already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “Oh, he’s already enchanted. Look at him.”
And she’s not wrong. Your gaze flickers to her pointed ears, impossibly cute, twitching slightly as she speaks. You can’t help yourself; your hand lifts, fingers brushing the curve of one. She gasps softly, her body trembling against you.
“Sensitive, huh?” you murmur, surprised by your own boldness.
Natty smirks, leaning into your touch. “You’ve got no idea.”
Julie’s hands are more decisive, sliding down your chest as Natty tugs your shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare to the room’s cool air. Her nails drag lightly across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Behind you, Julie’s fingers work at your belt, a faint laugh escaping her lips as she feels the bulge already straining against your jeans. “Well, someone’s eager.”
“You’re the ones who dragged me in here,” you shoot back, though your voice is breathless.
Natty steps back, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as her fingers move to the laces of her corset. She catches your gaze, a teasing smile curving her lips as she deliberately slows, each pull on the strings heightening the anticipation. Bit by bit, the tension gives way, and her ample cleavage begins to spill over, the fabric struggling to contain her.
With a final tug, the corset slackens, and she slides it down her torso, her movements fluid, almost hypnotic. The garment falls away, revealing the smooth, unblemished plane of her skin, glowing in the dim light. Her breasts, full and impossibly perfect, sway slightly with her motion, their weight almost defying reason, nipples already stiffened peaks begging for attention.
Natty doesn’t stop there. Her hands travel lower, unfastening her skirt and letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it, the shift leaving her in only a pair of thin, lacy panties clinging to her hips. Her fingers hook into the waistband, and she peels them down inch by inch, the reveal torturously slow until the fabric slides off completely, leaving her bare.
She stands there unabashed, her toned figure on full display, the curves of her hips leading to the bare mound of her pussy, glistening slightly in the light. She tosses the corset aside with a devilish grin, her eyes locking onto yours.
“Like what you see?” she teases, palming her own chest and giving it a little bounce.
Before you can answer, Julie tugs your pants and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving your cock springing free, hard and ready. She hums appreciatively, her sharp eyes glinting as she reaches out to grip it lightly, her fingers warm and confident.
Belle, meanwhile, has claimed the armchair in the corner, Opening the new bag of chips. She crosses her legs, leaning back like she’s settling in for a show.
“Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice light and amused. “I’m just here for moral support.”
“More like immoral support,” Natty quips, stepping out of the rest of her clothes to reveal curves that could have been sculpted by a god. Her hips sway as she moves closer, and you can’t help but stare, utterly captivated.
You sit on your bed, Julie begins to unbutton the top of her elven uniform, sensually removing the velvet from her skin, The red lingerie reveals her medium-sized, round and perfectly formed breasts that, combined with her smooth skin, leave you almost drooling. She slides down to her knees in front of you, her dark brown hair pooling around her shoulders as she gazes up at you with a wicked grin. “All right, let’s set some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” you echo, your brain barely functioning under the weight of what’s happening.
“I’m going first,” she says simply, her hand stroking your length with slow, deliberate precision. “I’ll be the first one pregnant. But first…” Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “We’ve gotta get you nice and ready.”
Natty giggles, pressing herself against your side, her breasts warm and soft against your arm. “Oh, he’s ready. Look at him.”
Julie doesn’t respond, too focused as she leans in, her tongue tracing a line along the underside of your cock. The sensation sends a shiver racing up your spine, and you grip the edge of the bed for support.
“Jesus,” you breathe, your head falling back.
“Not quite,” Julie murmurs, her lips wrapping around the tip.
Her mouth is warm, wet, and devastatingly skilled as she takes you deeper, her tongue swirling in maddening patterns. Natty watches with a smirk, her fingers trailing down your chest, her nails scraping lightly against your skin.
Belle’s voice drifts over from the chair, smug and teasing. “Damn, Julie. Save some for the rest of us.”
Julie pulls back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your slick length. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn.”
Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your jaw as she whispers, “She likes to make a mess. You should see her when she’s serious.”
You groan, caught between the relentless heat of Julie’s mouth and the soft press of Natty’s body against yours.
Julie doesn’t waste a second. She tightens her grip at the base of your cock, guiding it back between her lips with the kind of confidence that only comes from experience—or maybe instinct. Her mouth is pure heaven: warm, wet, and impossibly tight as she takes you deeper, her cheeks hollowing with every movement.
The sight of her on her knees, her brown dark hair falling around her flushed face, has you twitching in her mouth, and she hums in approval, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight through you. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and mischievous, as her tongue swirls around your head before she dives lower, taking you all the way in until your cock is brushing the back of her throat.
“Fuck, Julie,” you groan, your hips jerking forward instinctively.
Natty laughs softly from beside you, her full, bare breasts pressed against your arm as she leans in. “She’s a pro, isn’t she? Makes you wonder what other surprises she’s hiding.”
Her voice drips with teasing warmth, and you turn your head, unable to resist the lure of her body. Her tits are huge—soft and heavy, nipples stiff and begging for attention. You cup one in your hand, marveling at the weight of it, and she shivers, biting her lip.
“Don’t be shy,” she murmurs, pushing herself closer. “I’ve got plenty to keep you busy.”
Your mouth finds her nipple, hot and eager, and she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair as you suck gently, your tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. Her skin is soft and smooth under your lips, and you move to her other breast, giving it the same attention as her moans grow louder.
Meanwhile, Julie’s pace is relentless, her head bobbing as she works your cock with a combination of tongue, lips, and sheer determination. The obscene sounds of her mouth—wet, messy, and utterly filthy—fill the room, mingling with Natty’s soft cries and the distant hum of Christmas lights.
Belle, still perched in the chair with her snacks, snorts. “Damn, Julie, you trying to drown him? I can hear that slurping from here.”
Julie pulls back just enough to shoot Belle a look, her lips glistening with spit. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you’d do something useful for once.”
Belle grins, taking a lazy sip of her milk. “I am doing something. I’m observing. Documenting this historic moment. You’re welcome.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Julie mutters before turning her focus back to you.
She grips your cock tighter, her other hand cupping your balls as her mouth slides down again, taking you even deeper this time. The wet heat of her throat surrounds you, and you can’t stop the groan that tears from your chest, your hips bucking slightly.
“Careful,” Natty teases, her voice breathy as you switch back to her other nipple, sucking harder this time. “You don’t want to choke her. She’s got a small throat.”
Julie glares up at her, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her movements faster, rougher, as if to prove a point. The slick noises of her blowjob grow louder, lewd and shameless, and your legs tremble as she works you closer to the edge.
“Holy fuck,” you manage to gasp, your hand gripping her hair as she takes you all the way again, her lips flush against the base of your cock.
Belle claps mockingly from the chair. “Bravo! Give the girl a medal. Or maybe a towel. She’s making a mess.”
You glance down and see that she’s right—Julie’s chin is glistening with spit, and a thin line of drool drips from her mouth to the floor. She doesn’t care. If anything, she leans into it, her hands stroking you as she pulls back to catch her breath, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock.
“God, you’re a mess,” you say, half-laughing, half-moan.
Julie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her grin wicked. “You fucking love it.”
And she’s not wrong.
Natty, watching from your side, lets out a low chuckle, her hands sliding down her own curves.
“You’re hogging all the fun,” Natty purrs, leaning forward, her full breasts pressing against your side. “Don’t you believe in sharing, Julie? It is Christmas.”
Julie raises an eyebrow, her tongue flicking out to lick a stray bead of spit from her lips. “Think you can keep up?”
Natty grins, already dropping to her knees beside Julie. “Try me.”
Your cock twitches at the sight of them kneeling together, their hair—a mix of raven-black and chestnut brown—falling around their faces like something out of a dirty dream. Natty’s hand joins Julie’s, her grip firm but teasing as she strokes you alongside her.
“Damn, you’re big,” Natty murmurs, her fingers wrapping around your shaft as she glances up at you. “Santa Claus really chose the right guy.”
Julie rolls her eyes but leans forward again, her lips brushing the tip of your cock as Natty keeps stroking. “Quit talking and get to work,” she mutters before taking you back into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.
Natty doesn’t miss a beat. She leans in from the side, her tongue darting out to lick along your shaft, tracing every vein with slow, deliberate strokes. Her lips are soft and warm as they move lower, trailing down to your balls, and you nearly lose your balance as her mouth closes around one, sucking gently.
“Holy shit,” you groan, your head falling back as they work in perfect sync.
Julie pulls off with a wet pop, her lips curling into a smirk. “He likes that. Don’t stop, Natty.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” Natty replies, her voice muffled as she switches to your other ball, her tongue swirling in slow circles.
Julie takes you back into her mouth, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm that leaves you trembling. She takes you deeper this time, her throat tightening around your cock as she moves faster, her hand stroking what she can’t fit. Natty’s hands roam, one gripping your thigh while the other strokes the base of your shaft in time with Julie’s movements.
“You two are gonna kill me,” you manage to gasp, your hands tangling in their hair as pleasure courses through you.
Natty pulls back just enough to laugh, her lips shiny with spit. “Kill you? Baby, we’re just getting started.”
She leans up, her mouth joining Julie’s at the tip of your cock, their tongues meeting in a wet, messy kiss around you. The sight alone is almost enough to make you lose it—two gorgeous girls, their mouths working together, their spit mixing as they trade kisses and licks across your length.
“God, that’s hot,” Belle mutters from the armchair, her voice low and lazy. You glance over to see her lounging with one leg draped over the armrest. “I’d offer to join, but you two look like you’ve got it handled.”
Julie shoots her a glare without pulling her mouth away, her tongue swirling around your head before she pushes you deep again. Natty giggles, licking a long stripe up your shaft before wrapping her lips around the base, her hand stroking in tandem with Julie’s bobbing head.
The combination is overwhelming—Julie’s throat tightening around you, Natty’s tongue teasing every sensitive spot, their hands and mouths working together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Your legs shake, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as they push you closer and closer to the edge.
You pull back, your cock slick with their spit, and both women look up at you in surprise, lips swollen, faces flushed.
“Stop,” you pant, your voice rough. “I need more. Julie—get on the bed.”
Julie’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Finally ready to stop playing around, huh?”
She stands gracefully, peeling off the scraps of her lingerie as she moves. Her body is toned and lithe, her skin gleaming in the soft glow of the Christmas lights outside, visible through the window. Her breasts are perky, her waist narrow, and when she turns to climb onto the bed, you can’t stop yourself from staring at her ass—big, perfectly round, the kind of ass that seems sculpted to be fucked.
Natty is already lying on her back, her legs spread wide, her glistening pussy on full display. She props herself up on her elbows, watching the two of you with a grin. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Don’t be shy, Julie. Show him how it’s done.”
Julie positions herself on all fours, her back arched and her cheeks raised in invitation. She glances over her shoulder, her dark eyes filled with challenge and anticipation. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
You don’t need to be told twice. Climbing onto the bed behind her, you grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft, supple skin. Her pussy is already dripping, her arousal glistening in the light, and you drag the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her.
“Come on, shove it in my pussy,” she snaps, her voice sharp but laced with need.
“Patience,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her lower back before pressing the tip of your cock against her entrance.
Julie growls softly, but her breath hitches as you push inside, the tight heat of her pussy clamping around you. She’s wet and snug, her walls pulsing as you slide deeper, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from losing it right there.
“Fuck, that’s good,” you groan, gripping her hips tighter as you bottom out, your cock buried to the hilt.
Julie’s head drops forward, her hands fisting in the sheets. “Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Don’t hold back.”
Natty’s laugh draws your attention, and you glance up to see her spreading herself wider, her fingers teasing her folds as she watches. “Don’t let her boss you around too much,” she teases. “She likes it rough. Don’t you, Julie?”
Julie doesn’t respond with words, just a guttural moan as you pull back and thrust into her again, harder this time. Her ass jiggles with the force, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Natty coos, her voice thick with arousal. She moves closer, her legs spreading even wider. “C’mere, Julie. You’ve got work to do.”
Julie doesn’t hesitate, leaning forward until her mouth is hovering over Natty’s dripping pussy. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive flesh, and Natty gasps, her hips bucking up toward Julie’s mouth.
“God, that’s good,” Natty moans, her fingers tangling in Julie’s hair.
The sight of Julie buried between Natty’s thighs, her ass raised high and rocking back against you, is enough to drive you insane. You grip her hips harder, your thrusts growing faster and rougher, each one making her moan louder into Natty’s pussy.
“Fuck, Julie,” you growl, your voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”
She hums in response, the vibrations making Natty cry out, her legs trembling as she grinds against Julie’s face.
“Don’t stop,” Natty gasps, her eyes fluttering shut. “God, you’re both so good.”
Julie’s moans are muffled by Natty’s pussy, but the way she clenches around your cock with every thrust tells you she’s just as lost in the moment as you are. You lean over her, one hand sliding up her back, your fingers tangling in her hair as you fuck her harder, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the air.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, your chest heaving.
Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her perch in the corner. “I mean, if you two could make it any louder, that’d be great. I don’t think the neighbors heard you yet.”
“Shut up, Belle,” Julie snarls, her voice muffled by Natty’s folds.
Natty lets out a breathless laugh, her head falling back as she grinds against Julie’s tongue. “She’s got a point. You two are animals.”
You ignore them, too focused on the way Julie’s pussy grips you, the way her ass bounces with every thrust, the way Natty’s moans grow louder as Julie devours her. It’s raw, messy, and perfect, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out.
You’re buried deep inside Julie, her tight, wet pussy squeezing you like a vice with every thrust. Her big ass bounces against your hips, and you can’t help the low growl that escapes your throat. She’s good—too good—but there’s something you can’t shake, something you need to see.
Leaning over her, your voice comes out rough, ragged. “Julie… twerk on my cock.”
Julie freezes for half a second, her breath hitching. Then, to your surprise, Natty bursts out laughing from her spot beside you, where she’s still sprawled on the bed, her fingers teasing her swollen clit.
“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Natty purrs, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Twerking’s her specialty. Go on, Julie. Show him what you’ve got.”
Julie glances back over her shoulder, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and amusement. “You think you can handle it?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.
“Try me,” you growl, your hands gripping her hips tighter.
She smirks, planting her palms firmly on the bed as she starts to move. Her hips roll first, slow and deliberate, before she begins to bounce, her ass clapping softly against your thighs. The sensation is unreal—her tight heat milking your cock as her ass jiggles in perfect rhythm, the wet sound of your connection filling the room.
“Holy fuck,” you mutter, your hands sliding down to grip her cheeks, spreading them wide as she works.
Natty props herself up on one elbow, watching with a wicked grin. “Told you. She’s got moves.”
Julie arches her back, her movements growing faster, more intense. She pushes back hard with every bounce, driving your cock deeper inside her, and the sight of her round, flawless ass slamming against you is enough to make your head spin.
“Like that?” she asks breathlessly, glancing back at you.
“Fuck yes,” you groan, raising one hand and bringing it down on her cheek with a sharp smack.
Julie moans, her hips jerking forward slightly before she slams back again, grinding herself against you. “Harder,” she demands, her voice dripping with lust.
You don’t need to be told twice. Your hand comes down again, the slap echoing in the room, leaving a red imprint on her smooth skin. She gasps, pushing back harder, her pussy clenching around you.
“Jesus, Julie,” you growl, your nails digging into her flesh. “You’re gonna kill me.”
From the corner, Belle snickers, her voice lazy but amused. “Yeah, Julie. Work that dick. Milk him dry.”
Julie smirks, but her focus doesn’t waver. Her ass bounces faster, harder, the rhythm hypnotic, and you feel your control slipping as the pleasure builds in your gut, hot and insistent.
“Keep going,” you urge, your voice rough. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
She doesn’t. If anything, she doubles down, her movements wild and relentless as she twerks on your cock, her pussy squeezing you tighter with every bounce. Your breaths come faster, your grip on her hips growing almost desperate as the pressure inside you reaches its breaking point.
“Gonna cum,” you gasp, your thrusts growing erratic as you match her pace.
“Do it,” Belle encourages, her tone teasing but firm. “Fill her up. That’s what she’s here for.”
Natty grins, her voice a purr. “Yeah, Julie wants it. Don’t you, baby?”
Julie moans in response, her movements frantic now, her pussy milking you with every thrust. “Fuck, yes,” she gasps. “Cum in me. Fill me up.”
Her words are your undoing. With one final thrust, you bury yourself as deep as you can go, your cock pulsing as you release inside her. The heat of your cum floods her, and she cries out, her body trembling as her own climax ripples through her.
You stay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both of you panting and shaking.
Julie collapses forward, her body trembling, chest heaving against the sheets. You slowly pull out, and the sight stops you in your tracks. Your cock slides free with a slick, wet sound, and thick ropes of your cum immediately start dripping from her swollen, glistening pussy, running down her thighs in sticky trails.
She groans softly, her legs shaking as she shifts to the side, collapsing onto her back. “Holy shit,” she mutters, tossing a glance at Natty. “You’re gonna love this.”
Natty grins, already on her knees beside you, her hands sliding over your chest. “Oh, I know I will.” She nudges Julie with her hip, her voice teasing. “Move over, Julie. My turn.”
Julie chuckles breathlessly but obliges, rolling to the side to give Natty space. Natty wastes no time, her hand already wrapping around your cock, stroking it slowly. You twitch in her grip, still sensitive from your release, but she doesn’t let up, her fingers firm and deliberate.
“You’re not done yet, big guy,” she murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your chest. “We’ve still got work to do.”
Belle snorts from her spot in the chair. “Poor guy looks like he’s already dead. You sure he can keep up?”
“Oh, he can keep up,” Natty replies, her voice full of confidence. She moves lower, her lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin, her hand never stopping its slow, steady strokes.
Julie props herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed on you with a satisfied smirk. “If he can’t, we’ll make him.”
Natty chuckles, her tongue flicking out to tease one of your nipples. The sensation sends a jolt through you, and she grins against your skin. “See? He’s already waking up.”
Her other hand joins in, her nails lightly scraping down your stomach, and your cock twitches again, starting to harden in her grip. She hums in approval, her lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently as her hand works you. Slowly you lie down on the bed, pulling Natty with you. The new position allows you to enjoy the best of her touch comfortably.
Julie leans in from the side, her lips finding your neck. “Yeah, relax,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. “Let us take care of you.”
You exhale shakily, your hands resting on their hips as they move together, their lips and hands exploring every inch of you. Julie’s tongue traces the curve of your jaw, while Natty’s mouth moves lower, her kisses trailing down your chest to your stomach.
“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow.
Natty glances up at you, her grin wicked. “That’s it. Just let go.”
Her strokes grow firmer, her grip tightening around your cock as it hardens fully again, and she laughs softly. “There we go. Good boy.”
Julie smirks, her lips brushing against your ear. “Told you he’d be ready in no time.”
Natty’s hand slows, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head of your cock, smearing the bead of precum that’s already forming. “He’s perfect,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
Belle sighs dramatically from the chair. “All right, Natty, quit hogging him. Let’s see you put that cock to good use.”
Natty laughs, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn. For now…” She straddles your hips, her wet pussy hovering just above your cock. “It’s my turn.”
You grip her hips instinctively, your body already craving her. “Bring it on,” you mutter, your voice rough with desire.
Natty grins, her hands resting on your chest as she positions herself, her eyes locked on yours. “Oh, I will,” she promises, her voice low and teasing. “You’d better keep up.”
She grips your cock, guiding it to her slick, swollen entrance, her wetness coating the head as she teases you with slow, deliberate movements. You groan, your hands tightening on her hips as the head of your cock pushes into her heat, her pussy stretching to take you inch by inch.
“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow. “You feel… so fucking good.”
She lets out a low, satisfied moan as she sinks all the way down, her thick, curvy body pressing against you. Her pussy grips you like a glove, tight and wet, and you can feel every pulse, every clench as she adjusts to your size. Her breasts bounce slightly with the movement, full and heavy, her nipples stiff and begging to be touched.
Your hands slide up her waist to cup them, marveling at their softness, and she grins down at you, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Like what you see, huh?”
“You’re perfect,” you rasp, your thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her. “Thick, juicy… fuck, Natty, you’re incredible.”
She laughs, low and teasing, her hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate movements. “Careful, big guy. You keep talking like that, and I might actually start thinking you’d make a good husband.”
You chuckle breathlessly, gripping her hips as she rides you, her movements smooth and sensual. “Might not be wrong.”
Natty grins, leaning forward slightly, her breasts brushing against your chest as she moves. Her pussy slides up and down your cock with maddening precision, her pace slow enough to drive you crazy, but steady enough to keep you on the edge.
Your cock, still half-numb from your release with Julie, feels like it’s waking up all over again, the pleasure building slowly but intensely. The way her body moves, her hips rolling, her ass bouncing slightly with every thrust—it’s hypnotic, and you can’t look away.
“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmur, your hands trailing up her sides to cup her breasts again, squeezing gently.
Natty moans softly, her pace quickening just slightly. “Mmm, keep talking, sweetheart. I like to hear how much you adore me.”
The sight of her, riding you like she’s in control of the entire world, is almost too much to handle. Her thick thighs frame your hips, her juicy breasts sway with every movement, and her dark hair falls around her face in messy waves.
You glance to the side, catching Julie watching intently, her lips parted as she takes in the scene. “Julie,” you call out, your voice rough. “Kiss her.”
Julie’s eyebrows raise slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate. She moves closer, kneeling on the bed beside you. Natty’s eyes flick to her, and a slow, wicked smile spreads across her lips.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Julie murmurs before leaning in.
Their lips meet in a soft, teasing kiss at first, their mouths moving slowly, testing, teasing. Then it deepens, their tongues tangling, and the sight makes your cock twitch inside Natty.
“Fuck,” you groan, your hands tightening on her hips as she continues to ride you.
Natty moans into the kiss, her movements growing faster, her pussy squeezing you tighter. Julie’s hands slide up to cup Natty’s face, holding her close as their kiss becomes wetter, messier, their moans mingling in the air.
Your eyes flick to the corner of the room, and your breath catches at the sight of Belle. She’s leaning back in the chair, her dress hiked up around her hips, one hand pressed against her panties. Her fingers move in slow, lazy circles, teasing herself as she watches the three of you.
Her eyes meet yours, and she grins, her cheeks flushed. “Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice low and breathy. “Just enjoying the show.”
The combination of Natty’s bouncing ass, her tight, wet pussy gripping you, the sight of her and Julie kissing hungrily, and Belle touching herself in the corner—it’s overwhelming. The pleasure builds rapidly, every nerve in your body on fire as Natty’s hips grind against you, her pussy gripping your cock with that maddening rhythm that has you teetering on the edge. Her thick, curvy body moving with an expertise that makes it impossible to think straight.
But as much as you love the sight of her riding you like this, there’s one thing you need even more.
“Turn around,” you growl, your hands sliding down to her thighs. “I want to see that fat ass while you ride me.”
Natty’s grin widens, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you like my ass, huh?”
“Love it,” you reply, your voice thick with need. “Now, turn around and show me.”
Natty bites her lip, sliding off you slowly, your cock glistening with her wetness as it slips free. She swings her leg over, turning around to face away from you. And when she lowers herself back down, guiding you into her dripping pussy, the sight is absolutely fucking perfect.
Natty's ass is a fucking spectacle, a fucking masterpiece that deserves to be worshipped. It's not just round and thick; it's fucking voluptuous, a perfect peach that jiggles and bounces with every damn movement. As she sinks down onto your cock, you can see her cheeks spreading, swallowing your shaft like it's fucking hungry for it. She glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling in messy waves around her flushed face.
“Better?” she asks, her voice teasing, as she starts to move her hips in slow, grinding circles.
“Fuck yes,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist. “You’re fucking perfect, Natty.”
Natty laughs softly, her hips lifting and dropping in a slow, torturous rhythm that leaves you panting. Her pussy grips you like a vise, the wet sounds of her movements filling the room as she bounces on your cock.
“Look at you,” she purrs, glancing back again. “Losing your mind over my ass, huh?”
“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your fingers digging into her hips. “Look at the way it fucking moves.”
She smirks, her pace quickening, her ass clapping against your thighs with every bounce. “Yeah? You like that? You like watching my fat ass swallow your cock?”
“Fucking love it,” you groan, your hips bucking up to meet her movements.
Julie moves in closer, leaning over your chest. Her lips find your neck first, soft and teasing, before trailing down to your chest. “Don’t forget about me,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry.
Her tongue flicks over your nipple, and you shudder, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your already overworked body. She grins against your skin, sucking gently before moving to the other side, her fingers tracing light patterns over your abs.
“You’re lucky we’re letting you take your time,” she teases, her lips brushing against your ear. “Natty could’ve made you cum five minutes ago if she really wanted to.”
Natty laughs, throwing her head back as she rides you harder, her movements wild and relentless now. “He’s just trying to keep up, Julie. Don’t be too hard on him.”
You growl, your grip on Natty’s hips tightening as you thrust up into her, meeting her movements with desperate intensity. The sight of her ass bouncing against you, the wet sounds of her pussy taking you so deep, Julie’s lips on your chest—it’s all too much, but you don’t want it to end.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you groan, your voice ragged. “You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.”
“Good,” Natty shoots back, her voice breathless. “That’s the idea.”
Julie laughs softly, her lips brushing against your neck. “She’s got you right where she wants you.”
Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her spot in the armchair, the voice low and soft, almost a moan, the fingers rubbing in a steady rhythm under her panties. “Pretty sure she’s got all of us right where she wants us. Keep going, Nat. You’re killing it.”
Natty’s pace doesn’t falter, her ass slamming down on your cock with every thrust, her pussy clenching around you like she’s determined to drain you dry. The pleasure is overwhelming, building in waves that threaten to pull you under, but you hold on, desperate to make this last as long as possible.
“Come on,” Natty urges, glancing back at you again. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy. Fucking give it to me.”
Natty’s pace is relentless, her thick ass bouncing against your thighs with obscene, wet smacks as her pussy milks you. The sight of her in reverse cowgirl, riding your cock like she’s possessed, makes your chest tighten and your breath come in ragged gasps. Every bounce sends another jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, the heat in your gut coiling tighter, threatening to snap.
Julie is right on top of you, her lips on your neck, her tongue dragging along the sensitive skin as her fingers pinch and tease your nipples. Each twist and flick sends electric shocks through your body, making your cock twitch inside Natty’s impossibly tight, soaking pussy.
Natty throws her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she grinds her hips in circles, her ass slamming against you with each motion. “Come on,” she growls, glancing over her shoulder at you, her eyes wild with lust. “Pump your cum inside this elf whore's pussy. Fucking fill me up.”
You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft, luscious flesh as you thrust up into her, meeting her every movement. The way her pussy grips you, squeezing and pulling like it’s desperate for your cum, drives you to the edge.
“You want me to fill you?” you growl, your voice thick and rough.
“Fuck yes,” Natty moans, slamming herself down on your cock with even more force. “I want all of it. Every fucking drop. Fill me so full I’ll feel it for days.”
Her words send a shiver through you, and you grip her even tighter, pulling her down hard onto your cock. “Say it,” you demand, your voice harsh. “Tell me you want me to breed you.”
Natty moans louder, her head falling forward as she picks up the pace, her hips moving with a wild urgency. “I want it,” she cries out, her voice high and desperate. “Fuck, I want it so bad. Breed me, baby. Please! Fill me with your fucking cum! Make me yours.”
Julie bites your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as her fingers tease your nipples harder. “Listen to her,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with lust. “She’s fucking crazy for you.”
Belle’s laugh echoes from the corner, her voice breathy. “You better not disappoint her, big guy. She’s counting on you.”
Natty’s movements become frantic, her pussy gripping you like a vise as she slams herself down on your cock over and over again. “Come on,” she begs, her voice cracking with need. “I need it. I need you to fucking cum inside me. Fill me up. Breed me like a fucking slut.”
You’re shaking now, your entire body taut as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. “Fuck, Natty,” you groan, your hips jerking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“Yes!” Natty screams, her hands gripping her thighs as she rides you harder, her movements wild and uncoordinated. “Do it! Cum in me! Breed me, you fucking stud!”
The words tip you over the edge, and with a guttural moan, you thrust up into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as you can go. Your cock pulses, your seed spilling into her in hot, thick waves, and Natty loses it.
Her entire body shakes as she cums, her pussy clamping down on your cock, milking you for every last drop. “Fuck, yes!” she screams, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at her bouncing breasts as her orgasm rips through her.
Julie watches with wide eyes, her lips parted in awe, while Belle groans softly, her hand moving faster under her panties. “Goddamn,” Belle mutters. “That’s fucking hot.”
Natty doesn’t stop. Even as you cum inside her, she keeps riding you, her hips slamming down with an almost violent force, drawing out every ounce of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your eyes rolling back in your head.
“Take it,” you groan, your voice raw. “Take every fucking drop.”
“Fuck, yes,” Natty moans, her body trembling as her pussy clenches around you, her own release leaving her dripping all over your cock. “I can feel it. So deep. Mmm, so fucking good.”
Finally, she collapses forward onto the bed, her body trembling, your cum leaking from her stuffed pussy as she pants heavily, her face flushed and satisfied. Julie grins, leaning down to kiss you softly.
“You’re a fucking machine,” she whispers against your lips.
Belle laughs, her voice hoarse. “Machine? More like a damn Christmas miracle.”
The room smells like sex and sweat, heavy and warm, and you’re sprawled across the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Natty and Julie are curled up on either side of you, their naked bodies pressed against yours like they’ve been there forever. Natty’s thick curves fit snugly against your side, her head resting on your shoulder, while Julie’s toned frame stretches lazily, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your chest.
In the corner, Belle is by the mirror, her dress half off as she scrubs at her skin with a damp washcloth, muttering under her breath about soot and chimneys.
“Should’ve come through the damn door,” she grumbles, glaring at the streaks of black still clinging to her thighs.
“You think?” Julie calls over, her tone dry.
Belle shoots her a look through the mirror but doesn’t respond, focusing instead on her task.
You exhale, finally finding your voice. “Okay, I gotta ask. What’s life like for you guys? The whole elf thing. Is it like a Christmas movie, or is that just marketing bullshit?”
Natty snorts, her fingers trailing lazily down your stomach. “Marketing bullshit. Total propaganda. Santa’s a businessman; he’s gotta sell the magic.”
Julie props herself up on one elbow, smirking. “Don’t get us wrong, it’s not all bad. But it’s not sugar plums and caroling 24/7, either.”
“Yeah?” you ask, glancing between them. “So, what’s it actually like?”
Natty hums thoughtfully, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Busy as hell, for starters. Prep for Christmas is a year-round thing. You think it's just one day, but getting all those gifts ready for billions of kids? It's insane. And the logistics? Nightmare. Planning routes, checking lists twice, dealing with weather issues, and making sure every kid gets exactly what they want. It’s a year-round hustle.”
Julie nods. “We’ve got divisions for everything: toys, logistics, reindeer care, candy production… Don’t even get me started on the gingerbread sector. Those guys are intense.”
Natty chuckles, nudging you with her hip. “And you know that shit about elves being tiny? Total lie. We’re all like this—” she gestures to her body, curves and all, “—which makes squeezing into some of those old workshops a pain in the ass.”
Belle pipes up from the mirror, still scrubbing at a stubborn patch of ash on her shoulder. “And don’t forget the quotas. Everything’s gotta be done yesterday. Santa’s nice and all, but he’s also a hardass when it comes to deadlines.”
You blink, trying to picture Santa as a stern boss, pacing around with a clipboard and barking orders. “So, he’s not the jolly guy in the red suit?”
Julie laughs. “Oh, he is. But don’t let the ‘ho-ho-ho’ fool you. He runs a tight ship. You miss a deadline, and you’re stuck in snow-shoveling duty for a week.”
“Snow-shoveling duty?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.
Natty groans dramatically. “The worst. Endless piles of snow, freezing your ass off while the rest of the team’s inside drinking hot cocoa. It’s brutal.”
Belle, finally satisfied with her cleanup, turns from the mirror, her dress hanging off her shoulders as she walks over to the bed. “And don’t even get me started on reindeer maintenance,” she says, flopping into the armchair nearby. “Those things are divas. You’d think they’d be grateful for the magical oats, but no—Prancer once kicked me because the oats weren’t warm enough.”
“Sounds like a nightmare,” you say, grinning.
“It’s not all bad,” Natty says, shrugging. “We’ve got a pretty tight-knit community. Lots of parties, good food, and the sex—” she winks at you, “—is legendary.”
Julie smirks. “And it’s not like we don’t have perks. Free housing, endless candy canes, and when Santa’s in a good mood, he throws these massive celebrations. Think Mardi Gras, but with more glitter.”
Belle laughs. “And more eggnog. So much eggnog.”
You shake your head, chuckling. “I had no idea the North Pole was this wild. I always pictured it… cleaner. Quieter.”
Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Stick around, and maybe we’ll take you there sometime. Show you the real magic.”
Julie hums, her fingers sliding lower on your chest. “But for now, you’re stuck with us. And I’m not hearing any complaints.”
Belle smirks, settling into her chair and crossing her legs. “Not a bad deal, huh?”
You glance around the room—Natty’s warm body pressed against you, Julie’s teasing fingers, Belle’s playful grin—and you can’t help but smile. “Not bad at all.”
The warmth of Julie and Natty pressed against you, their soft bodies against your sides, has you stirring again. It doesn’t take much; their scent, their touch, the memory of the last couple of minutes—it all combines into a haze of arousal that has your cock stiffening between your legs. You glance down, half-laughing at yourself, already semi-hard just from lying there with them.
Natty notices first, her hand brushing lightly over your stomach before trailing lower. She grins when she feels the slight twitch of your cock. “Look who’s ready for round three,” she teases, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.
Julie hums, her fingers joining Natty’s, stroking your chest lightly. “And here I thought we wore him out.”
You chuckle, your breath catching slightly as they touch you. “I guess you underestimated me.”
But your attention shifts to Belle, still perched on the armchair. She’s been quiet, watching, her cheeks flushed pink. “Belle,” you say softly, holding out a hand. “Come here.”
Belle hesitates, glancing between you and the other two before standing. As she approaches, the soft light of the room finally reveals her fully; she’s petite, with small, perky breasts that barely contain their youthful firmness. Her tummy looks soft to the touch, with a gentle curve that accentuates her femininity. It's not flat or toned but deliciously smooth, and only adds to her overall cuteness, making her appear even more delicate and enticing. Her tight, rounded ass complements her figure perfectly, making your cock twitch with anticipation.
She notices you staring and crosses her arms, pretending to be annoyed. “What?”
“Nothing,” you say, smiling. “You’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks flush, and she huffs, climbing onto the bed awkwardly. Julie and Natty make room for her, shifting to the sides, and she kneels between them, looking almost shy.
“I’m not as… experienced as them,” Belle says, her voice quieter than usual.
Natty snickers, leaning against the headboard. “Yeah, no shit. That’s why you stayed in the armchair watching, isn’t it? You were scared.”
“I was not scared!” Belle snaps, glaring at her.
“Sure,” Natty says with a wink.
You reach up, cupping Belle’s cheek gently, and her glare softens as her eyes meet yours. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re perfect. No need to be shy.”
Her lips part slightly, and you lean in, brushing a soft kiss against her mouth. She gasps softly, her body relaxing as she melts into you, her hands resting on your chest as the kiss deepens.
Natty chuckles behind her, and a second later, her hands slide around Belle’s sides, cupping her small breasts. Belle pulls back from the kiss, gasping as Natty’s fingers pinch and tease her nipples. “See?” Natty says with a grin. “I’ll help you out.”
Julie moves closer, her lips brushing against your neck before trailing down to your chest, her fingers dancing over your abs. “Don’t forget about us,” she murmurs, her tongue flicking over one of your nipples, making you shudder.
You look at the three of them—Belle’s small, trembling frame, Natty’s mischievous grin as she teases Belle’s breasts, Julie’s soft lips trailing down your body—and you can’t help but speak. “You’re all incredible,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration. “The most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.”
Julie hums against your chest, her lips curving into a smile. “We’d better be. We’re yours now, after all.”
Natty nods, her hands still on Belle’s breasts. “Once we’re all pregnant, you’re stuck with us. Forever.”
You chuckle softly, your hand sliding between Belle’s thighs, cupping her wet heat. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you murmur, your fingers sliding against her slick folds. “Three perfect girls all to myself? I’ve won the fucking lottery.”
Belle moans softly, her hips jerking against your hand. “You better take good care of us,” she says, her voice breathless.
“I will,” you promise, your fingers brushing against her clit, making her gasp. “I’ll take care of you. All of you.”
Natty grins, her hands sliding down Belle’s sides. “We’ll hold you to that.”
You shift, lying flat on the bed, your hands on Belle’s hips. “Come here,” you say, your voice rough with need. “I want to taste you.”
Belle hesitates for only a moment before nodding, her cheeks still flushed as she straddles your face. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of your head, and she lowers herself slowly, her pink, glistening pussy hovering just above your lips.
You grip her hips, pulling her down, and she gasps as your tongue slides against her folds. She’s sweet and soft, her taste driving you wild as you lick and suck, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” Belle moans, her hands gripping the headboard as her hips start to rock against your face.
Julie wastes no time, sliding down the bed to take your cock in her hand. She strokes you slowly at first, her eyes glinting with anticipation, before leaning in to wrap her lips around the head, sucking gently.
Natty grins, positioning herself behind Julie. “Let me help,” she says, her hands spreading Julie’s thighs as her tongue dips between them, licking along Julie’s folds.
The sensation of Belle grinding on your face, Julie’s warm mouth on your cock, and the sound of Natty’s tongue working between Julie’s legs is almost overwhelming. You groan into Belle’s pussy, your hands tightening on her hips as you pull her closer, devouring her like you can’t get enough.
Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling above you. “Oh, God,” she gasps, her hips moving faster. “You’re so… fucking good at this.”
Julie hums around your cock, her tongue swirling around the head as she takes you deeper. Natty’s muffled moans from behind her only add to the intensity, and you can feel yourself growing harder with every passing second.
Belle’s soft thighs frame your face as she rides your tongue, her sweet, pink pussy dripping with arousal as you devour her. Your hands grip her hips, guiding her movements as you flick your tongue over her clit, sucking it gently before dipping back into her folds. Every little gasp and moan she makes sends a jolt of satisfaction through you, urging you to go harder, deeper.
Above you, Belle’s voice trembles. “Oh, fuck… Oh, God, yes… That’s so fucking good.” Her fingers grip the headboard, her hips moving erratically as she chases her pleasure. “I can’t—oh, my fucking God—”
Meanwhile, Julie has taken your cock in her mouth, her lips stretched around your length as she works you with a fervor that leaves you trembling. She alternates between slow, deliberate bobs and deep, greedy sucks that have your cock twitching in her throat. Her tongue swirls around the head each time she pulls back, lapping at the precum that beads there before taking you deep again, her nose brushing against your pelvis.
Julie moans softly around your cock, her throat vibrating against you as she feels Natty’s hands spreading her ass cheeks from behind. “Natty—what are you—”
Her words cut off into a sharp cry as Natty’s tongue presses against her asshole, teasing the tight ring of muscle with slow, wet strokes. Julie’s body jerks, and her hips push back involuntarily as Natty’s tongue slips inside, swirling and licking with expert precision.
“Fuck,” Julie gasps, pulling off your cock long enough to catch her breath. Her hand strokes you in quick, firm movements as she groans, her voice trembling. “Natty, you’re such a—oh, fuck—such a filthy bitch.”
Natty grins against her, her tongue plunging deeper as her hands knead Julie’s ass. “Damn right,” she murmurs, her voice muffled. “Now keep sucking him, Julie. I’m just getting started back here.”
Julie shivers but obeys, taking your cock back into her mouth with a loud, wet slurp. She’s even more eager now, her lips moving faster, her hand stroking the base in time with her bobs. The combined sensations of her warm, slick mouth and Belle’s pussy grinding on your tongue make your head spin, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure.
Belle’s voice grows higher, more desperate, as her movements become frantic. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”
You grip her hips tighter, pulling her down hard against your mouth as your tongue flicks over her clit again and again. Her thighs tremble around your head, and she cries out, her body shaking as her orgasm crashes over her.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Belle screams, her hips grinding against your face as you lick her through her climax, her juices dripping down your chin.
Julie moans around your cock, her mouth moving faster as Natty’s tongue works deeper into her ass, licking and teasing with an intensity that leaves her trembling. She pulls back with a gasp, her hand still stroking you as she throws her head back, her voice breaking. “Fuck, Natty, you’re gonna make me cum!”
Natty chuckles, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as her tongue plunges even deeper, her wet, messy sounds mingling with the obscene noises of Julie’s blowjob. “Do it,” Natty growls. “Cum for us, Julie. Let him hear how good it feels.”
Julie’s moans grow louder, her hand tightening around your cock as she strokes you harder, her other hand gripping the sheets. Her body shakes, her voice rising into a scream as her orgasm hits, her thighs clenching around Natty’s face.
“Fuck!” Julie cries, her body jerking as she cums, her hand squeezing your cock as she moans uncontrollably.
Belle slowly climbs off you, her thighs trembling slightly as she kneels beside you on the bed, her flushed face framed by messy blonde hair. She’s still catching her breath, her lips parted, her chest heaving, but the smile she gives you is soft, almost shy.
“You’re fucking amazing,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No wonder they can’t get enough of you.”
You grin, still tasting her juices on your lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
Her cheeks flush even deeper, and her eyes dart down to your cock—still rock-hard and glistening with Julie’s spit. She bites her lip, her gaze darkening with anticipation.
“You ready for more?” you ask, sitting up slightly.
Belle nods quickly. “Yeah.”
You guide her onto her back, spreading her legs gently as she lies beneath you. Her small, cute frame is stretched out on the bed, her soft tummy rising and falling with her breaths, her wet, pink pussy practically begging for you. You position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock brushing against her entrance.
Julie leans back on the bed beside you, her lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Better not scare her off, big guy. She’s still new to all this.”
Belle glares at her but doesn’t respond, her attention fixed entirely on you as you lean over her. Your hands rest on her hips, your cock pressing more firmly against her slick folds, and she shivers.
But before you can push inside, Natty’s voice cuts through the moment. “Wait!”
You both glance up to see her hopping off the bed, her naked body moving with purpose as she heads toward the door.
“Where the hell are you going?” Julie calls after her, annoyed.
Natty doesn’t stop, her voice trailing back. “I saw something in the kitchen. Be right back!”
The three of you exchange confused looks, but you shrug, your attention shifting back to Belle. “Don’t worry about her,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her softly.
Belle sighs into the kiss, her hands sliding up to rest on your shoulders as you position yourself again. But just as you’re about to push inside, Natty bursts back into the room, climbing onto the bed with something in her hand.
“I’m back!” she announces triumphantly, holding up a candy cane like it’s a trophy.
Julie’s eyes narrow, immediately suspicious. “What the fuck are you doing with that?”
Natty grins wickedly, crawling onto the bed and motioning for Julie to lie down. “Trust me, you’ll like this.”
Julie raises an eyebrow but complies, lying back and spreading her legs slightly. “You’re such a dirty whore,” she mutters, though her tone is more amused than annoyed.
Natty winks. “Takes one to know one.”
She leans down, her tongue flicking out to wet the candy cane before sliding it into her mouth, sucking it slowly. The sight is obscene—her lips wrapped around the striped treat, her tongue swirling over it like she’s giving it the blowjob of its life. When she pulls it out, it’s glistening, coated in her spit.
Belle watches the scene with wide eyes, her breath hitching. “Holy shit,” she whispers, her hands clutching the sheets.
Natty moves between Julie’s legs, guiding the candy cane to her ass. She circles the tight ring of muscle slowly, teasing it, and Julie’s body tenses.
“Relax,” Natty purrs, her other hand stroking Julie’s thigh. “You’re gonna love this.”
Julie groans, her head falling back. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”
“Shut up and enjoy it,” Natty replies, pushing the candy cane in slowly.
Julie gasps as it slides inside, her body arching slightly. “Fuck,” she moans, her hands gripping the sheets.
The sight is enough to drive Belle over the edge. She looks up at you, her eyes blazing with need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I can’t wait anymore. Fuck me.”
You’re no different. Watching Natty work the candy cane into Julie’s ass, hearing Julie’s breathless moans, and seeing Belle’s flushed, needy face beneath you—it’s all too much. You position yourself again, gripping Belle’s hips as you push the head of your cock into her wet, tight pussy.
Belle gasps, her nails digging into your arms as you slide deeper, her walls clenching around you. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, her head falling back. “Oh—god—you’re so big.”
“Fuck, you’re tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you bottom out, buried to the hilt.
Natty glances up from Julie, a wicked grin on her face. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”
Julie moans louder as Natty twists the candy cane slightly, her hips bucking. “Shut up, Natty,” she gasps. “Keep going.”
You focus on Belle, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, her tight heat wrapping around you perfectly. Her pussy is tight and wet, gripping your cock with every thrust as you pick up speed, your hips slamming into her with increasing intensity. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, her heels digging into your back as if she’s trying to keep you buried as deep as possible.
“Deeper,” she gasps, her voice trembling, raw with need. “Please, fuck me deeper.”
You oblige, driving into her harder, your cock stretching her, filling her completely. Her small body trembles beneath you, her nails clawing at your back as her head tilts back, exposing her neck. You lean forward, your lips brushing against her slick, salty skin, your teeth grazing lightly as you kiss her, your breaths hot and uneven.
“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough. “You feel so fucking good.”
She moans, her hands clutching at you, holding you close as your bodies press together, sweat and heat mingling as you fuck her. “I can’t… Oh, god… You’re so deep,” she cries, her voice high and desperate.
By your side, Julie’s moans mix with Belle’s as Natty continues to work the candy cane into her ass. Julie’s legs are spread wide, her fingers rubbing her clit in frantic circles as she rocks her hips against the sensation, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
“Fuck, this is so dirty,” Julie groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips roll against Natty’s hand. “I’ve never… Fuck… No one’s ever done this to me before.”
Natty smirks, twisting the candy cane slightly, earning a loud, shaky moan from Julie. “No one’s ever fucked you like this because no one’s as filthy as us,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement.
Julie lets out a breathless laugh, her fingers moving faster on her clit. “Fuck, you’re right… It’s so fucking good.”
Belle’s voice pulls your attention back to her, her legs tightening around you as you thrust into her, your cock pounding her sweet, slick pussy. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice trembling. “Please don’t stop.”
You press your forehead against hers, your bodies glued together as you move, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Her small frame seems to mold against you, her soft tummy pressing into your abs, her breasts brushing against your chest with every movement.
“I won’t stop,” you promise, your voice rough, almost a growl. “You feel too fucking good.”
Belle’s moans are raw, unfiltered, her arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders as she buries her face in your neck. “Oh, god,” she cries. “I can feel you everywhere. You’re so fucking deep.”
Julie watches you both, her lips parted, her hand pausing briefly as she takes in the scene. “Fuck,” she mutters, her voice husky. “Look at you two. That’s so fucking hot.”
Natty chuckles, leaning closer to Julie, her hand still working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “You think that’s hot? Look at her face. She’s fucking gone.”
Julie laughs breathlessly, her fingers resuming their rhythm on her clit. “Belle, you look like he’s fucking you into another dimension.”
Belle doesn’t respond with words, only a loud, trembling moan as she clutches you tighter, her pussy clenching around your cock like it never wants to let you go.
The intensity builds with every thrust, every moan, every word. You’re driving into Belle with a passion that feels primal, raw, unstoppable, and she takes it all, her body arching, trembling, meeting your movements with frantic need.
“You’re perfect,” you murmur against her skin, your lips finding her neck again. “So fucking perfect.”
Belle’s only response is a choked, desperate cry, her nails digging into your back as she rides the overwhelming sensations.
Julie moans louder behind you, her voice thick with pleasure. “Keep going, big guy,” she urges, her breath hitching. “Fucking destroy her. She’s loving it.”
Natty laughs, her fingers teasing Julie’s clit now as she continues working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “We’re all loving it,” she says, her voice low and sultry.
The heat in the room is almost suffocating, bodies glistening with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and arousal. Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling against you as her nails rake your back, her pussy tightening around your cock with every thrust. You know you’re close, dangerously close, but you’re not done with her yet.
With a groan, you slide your hands under Belle’s ass and lift her, your cock slipping free for a moment as you shift positions. “Come here,” you murmur, your voice rough and commanding.
Her wide eyes meet yours, her cheeks flushed, and she lets out a shaky gasp as you pull her up into a kneeling position, your bodies pressed together as you sit back on your heels. She straddles you instinctively, her legs wrapping around your waist as you guide her down onto your cock again, the head slipping inside her slick, tight pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” Belle cries, her arms wrapping around your neck as she sinks down completely, your cock filling her to the hilt.
You groan, your hands gripping her hips as you press your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling. The intimacy of the position is electric—her small, soft body pressed against yours, her flushed skin against your chest, her pussy gripping you like it was made for you.
“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”
Her voice trembles, her fingers digging into your shoulders. “You’re so deep,” she moans, her hips rocking against you. “I can feel you in my stomach.”
Natty shifts, the air thick with the sound of her own ragged breathing as she pulls the candy cane free from Julie’s slick, stretched ass. Without pause, she rolls to her side, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire as she closes the distance between them. Her thigh slides over Julie’s, skin sticky with the mingling heat of their bodies. Her hips press forward until her wet, swollen pussy meets Julie's in a sticky, urgent clash. The friction sparks a shudder through both of them as she adjusts, their thighs tangling, bodies grinding.
"Alright, give me that sweet pussy, baby.” The sight alone makes your cock twitch inside Belle, and you can’t help but groan.
“Fuck,” Julie mutters, her voice thick with arousal as Natty’s movements create delicious friction. “You really are a dirty whore, Natty.”
Natty grins, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds against her, their slick folds sliding together with obscene wet sounds. “Oh, are you surprised, baby?” she purrs, her voice low and teasing.
Belle gasps, her hips moving faster as she rides you, her small body trembling in your arms. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice desperate. “Please, don’t stop.”
You grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm with raw, passionate intensity. “I’m not stopping,” you growl, your lips finding her neck. “I won't stop until I cum inside that tight little pussy.”
Julie lets out a sharp cry as Natty’s movements grow rougher, her hips bucking against her. “Fuck, Natty,” she moans, her fingers sliding down to rub her clit. “You’re so fucking good at this.”
Natty laughs breathlessly, her body grinding harder against Julie’s. “You're not bad yourself.”
Julie’s only response is a loud, trembling moan, her back arching as the pleasure overwhelms her.
You glance between them, the sight of their scissoring bodies pushing you to the brink. Natty’s thick thighs flex with every movement, her hips grinding in perfect rhythm against Julie’s, while Julie’s fingers move frantically between them, her cries of pleasure filling the room.
Belle’s moans pull your attention back to her, and you grip her tighter, your cock plunging into her with deep, deliberate thrusts. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough with need. “All of you. You’re fucking mine.”
“Yours,” Belle gasps, her arms tightening around your neck. “Fuck, I’m yours. Just don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
Natty groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her body moves against Julie’s, her voice dripping with lust. “This is fucking perfect,” she moans. “Keep going. All of us, together.”
The room is a mess of sounds—moans, gasps, the wet slap of skin against skin—and the heat builds higher, the tension coiling tighter with every second, the pleasure driving you all further, the desire to push each other over the edge growing stronger with every movement.
Belle’s trembling body rocks against yours, her pussy squeezing your cock with desperate, wet heat. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your cock throbbing inside her as her soft moans and whispered pleas echo in your ears. The heat between all of you is unbearable, the air heavy with sweat, arousal, and the raw, primal need that none of you can contain any longer.
You grip Belle’s hips tightly, thrusting up into her as she rides you, her small frame pressing against your chest, her legs wrapped around your waist. “Fuck, Belle,” you groan, your voice ragged. “I’m so close.”
Natty’s voice cuts through the haze, her tone teasing and full of lust. “Oh, yes,” she purrs, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds harder against her. “That’s what I like to hear. Come on, big guy, she’s the last one. Fill her up. Make her yours forever.”
Belle gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders as she grinds herself harder against you. Her lips are inches from yours, her breath mingling with yours as she stares into your eyes, her gaze filled with desperation and raw need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Please, make me yours. Breed me. I want to carry your baby.”
Her words send a shiver through your entire body, awakening something deep and primal inside you. Your hips buck up harder, your cock plunging deeper into her, and Belle cries out, her arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she clings to you.
Natty’s grin widens, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “Oh, she’s begging for it now. Look at her, desperate for you to knock her up.”
Julie moans louder, her fingers moving frantically against her clit as her hips buck against Natty’s. “Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling back. “He’s going to make her pregnant, and I can’t… Oh—god—I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum.”
The symphony of moans, cries, and wet sounds grows louder, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo. Julie and Natty’s bodies grind together, slick and desperate, their movements wild and erratic as they chase their pleasure.
Belle’s eyes lock onto yours, her lips trembling as she whispers again. “Please… Please cum in me. Make me pregnant. Make me yours forever.”
Her words are your undoing.
With a guttural groan, you bury yourself as deep as you can inside her, your cock pulsing as your release hits. Hot, thick streams of cum spill into her, and Belle screams, her body shaking against yours as she feels you fill her.
“Fuck!” you growl, your arms wrapping around her tightly, your bodies glued together as you pump her full, your hips jerking with each spurt.
The sensation drives Julie over the edge, her back arching as she screams, her fingers pressing hard against her clit. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” she cries, her body jerking violently as her release hits, squirting all over the bed, her juices splashing against Natty’s thighs.
Natty gasps, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as the wetness spreads between them. “Goddamn,” she mutters, her voice thick with lust. “You’re a fucking mess, Julie.”
Belle clings to you, her breathing ragged, her body trembling as she feels the heat of your cum deep inside her. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathless. “Thank you, thank you…”
You hold her tightly, your chest heaving, your cock still twitching inside her as you press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her skin. “All of you. Forever.”
Julie collapses against the bed, her chest heaving as she laughs breathlessly. “Forever, huh? You’d better be ready to keep that promise.”
Natty chuckles, leaning over to kiss Belle’s cheek. “He’ll keep it. He’s got no choice now.”
The room falls into a warm, heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the faint hum of satisfaction that lingers in the air.
You look down at Belle, her eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and adoration. You can't resist the urge to seal this moment with a hot, passionate kiss. You lean in, your lips meeting hers in a fierce, claiming embrace. Your tongue delves into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, feeling her soft moans vibrate against your lips. Her body melts into yours, her arms wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back with equal fervor.
As you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against Belle's, your eyes locked onto hers, reaffirming your claim. "Forever," you whisper, and she nods, a small, content smile playing on her lips.
You wake up, but your consciousness seems to have stayed behind, trapped in some deep corner of your brain. Every muscle in your body aches, and your cock feels like it’s been through a marathon—probably because it has. The memories of last night flood back in vivid, explicit detail, and you groan, rolling over in bed.
But… the bed feels empty.
Your eyes snap open, and you’re greeted by nothing but rumpled sheets and an eerie quiet. No Natty. No Julie. No Belle.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “It was a fucking dream, wasn’t it?”
It’s not impossible.
Hell, it wouldn’t even be surprising. You’ve been alone for so long it’s no wonder your brain decided to gift you some kind of depraved Christmas fever dream. But damn, it felt real. The ache in your hips, the dull burn in your back—your body isn’t lying about how thoroughly you were wrecked.
You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed. “Maybe I’ve finally lost it,” you mutter to yourself. “Gone full-on crazy lonely dude. Great.”
Still, the smell of something cooking wafts up from downstairs, and your stomach growls. Dream or not, food sounds like the next logical step. You throw on some sweatpants and shuffle toward the stairs, your feet heavy on the creaking wood.
When you reach the bottom and turn into the kitchen, the sight that greets you makes you stop dead in your tracks.
They’re there.
Julie is in the living room, rearranging the pictures on your walls like she owns the place. Her sleek black hair is tied back, and she’s wearing one of your button-up shirts—too big for her but just short enough to make you gulp.
Natty's in the kitchen, humming to herself as she flips pancakes on the stove, her curves accentuated by the apron that barely covers her, tied loosely around her waist. It's the only thing she's wearing, as a matter of fact.
And Belle? She’s exactly where you’d expect her to be: sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by crumbs, shoving another bite of toast into her mouth. She is wearing one of your shirts. It's massive on her, but she looks so cute and cozy. Her blonde hair is a fluffy cloud of curls, falling haphazardly around her face. It's the most adorable thing ever.
They all turn to you at once, as if on cue.
“Morning, big guy,” Julie says casually, holding up a framed picture of you and your old dog. “You know this was crooked, right?”
“Good morning!” Natty chimes, flashing you a bright smile before flipping another pancake. “I hope you like breakfast. We kind of raided your kitchen.”
Belle waves with her toast, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Mmrphning,” she mumbles, crumbs tumbling onto the table.
You just stand there, staring at them, your brain short-circuiting. “You’re… real,” you say finally.
Julie smirks, setting the frame back on the wall. “Of course we’re real. What, you think you hallucinated all that?”
“I wouldn’t blame him,” Natty quips, her tone playful. “Last night was pretty intense. Honestly, I’m impressed he’s still standing.”
Belle swallows her mouthful of toast and grins. “You do look like you got hit by a reindeer or two.”
You blink, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I… I thought I dreamed it. I woke up, and you weren’t—”
“—in your bed?” Julie finishes, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah, we figured you’d want to sleep in. You earned it.”
Natty plates a stack of pancakes and sets them on the table, her grin widening. “Plus, you looked so cute passed out like that. We didn’t want to wake you.”
Belle grabs a pancake with her bare hands, ignoring the fork sitting right in front of her. “So, are you gonna join us, or are you just gonna stand there gawking?”
You snap out of your daze, shuffling to the table and collapsing into a chair. “This is insane,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “You’re real. You’re actually real.”
“Yeah, we established that,” Julie says, sitting down across from you with a cup of coffee. “Now eat. Natty went all domestic goddess for you.”
Natty grins, sliding into the seat next to you and piling your plate high with pancakes. “Don’t get used to it,” she teases. “Breakfast is the only thing I know how to make.”
Belle smirks, her mouth full again. “She’s not kidding. I saw her almost burn water once.”
Natty glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I Eat Cereal with a Fork.’”
You chuckle despite yourself, cutting into your pancakes. “So, this is my life now, huh? Three elves living in my house, eating my food, rearranging my furniture.”
Julie shrugs, sipping her coffee. “Pretty much. We’re pregnant with your babies, remember? You’re stuck with us now.”
Natty leans in, resting her chin on her hand. “Admit it. You love it.”
You glance around the table at the three of them—the sly smirk on Julie’s lips, the playful sparkle in Natty’s eyes, Belle’s adorable, crumb-covered grin—and you can’t help but smile.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “I really do.”
The pancakes are incredible, fluffy and sweet, though the company is sweeter. You shovel another bite into your mouth, glancing between the three of them as they eat—or, in Belle’s case, inhale—at the table. It feels surreal, the warmth of their presence filling the space that, until now, had always felt too empty.
But then Julie sets her coffee down with a soft clink and fixes you with a look that’s somewhere between regretful and serious. “Look, we need to talk,” she says. "There's something you need to know.”
Your stomach flips. “That sounds ominous.”
Natty smirks, nudging your thigh under the table. “Relax. We’re not breaking up with you or anything.”
Belle, mid-bite, chimes in with her mouth full. “We’re pregnant, remember? Well, probably pregnant. Anyway, you're our man now.”
You laugh nervously, but Julie doesn’t budge, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about what happens next. The logistics.”
“Logistics?” you echo, frowning. “What logistics? I thought we just… lived happily ever after or something.”
Julie snorts, crossing her arms. “You think the magic world works like a rom-com? Cute. No, there’s rules. Bureaucracies. Red tape thicker than Santa’s thighs after cookie season.”
Belle raises a hand, still chewing. “Which is always, by the way.”
“Okay, back up,” you say, setting your fork down. “What rules? What are we talking about here?”
Natty sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s complicated. We’re technically under North Pole jurisdiction, which means we can’t just pack up and move here full-time. There’s laws against it. Something about maintaining magical secrecy or whatever.”
“Plus,” Julie adds, “having a half-human, half-elf baby is already bending the rules. Some of the North Pole council isn’t exactly thrilled about it.”
You blink. “Wait, what? The council knows?”
Belle grins, finally swallowing her mouthful. “Of course they do. They know everything. They’ve got this creepy snow globe that shows them all the important stuff. Like Santa’s version of the NSA. We're in trouble now, but it's for a good reason.”
“That’s terrifying,” you mutter.
“It’s efficient,” Julie counters.
“But what does that mean for us?” you ask, glancing between them. “Are you saying you’re just going to leave?”
Julie hesitates, glancing at Natty, who takes over. “We’re not leaving you. But we can’t stay full-time, either. For now, we’ll have to visit. Weekends, holidays, that kind of thing.”
“That’s… not what I was expecting.”
“Hey,” Natty says softly, reaching for your hand. “It’s not forever. Once the babies are born, we’ll have more leverage. Interracial babies in the magical world are rare, and they’re considered kind of… important.”
“Important how?”
Belle pipes up. “Well, they’re supposed to be, like, bridges between worlds or whatever. Diplomatic symbols of unity. It’s a whole thing.”
Julie rolls her eyes. “Which is ironic, considering how much the council hates dealing with them.”
Natty nods. “Yeah, but it works in our favor. They can’t exactly ignore us when the kids come along. We’ll push for a reassignment so we can all live together.”
“Reassignment?” you ask, feeling like you’re still two steps behind.
Julie leans forward, her tone all business. “Basically, we’d petition for you to come live at the North Pole. It’s rare, but it happens. Usually for special cases, like this one.”
“You’d really want me to come with you?” you ask, your voice soft.
Natty grins. “Duh. You think we’d go through all this just to ditch you?”
Belle nods vigorously. “We’re a package deal now. Besides, you’d love it at the North Pole. Endless hot cocoa, magical reindeer, zero commute time—it’s awesome.”
Julie smirks. “And cold as hell. Better invest in thermal underwear.”
You laugh despite yourself, the weight in your chest lifting slightly. “So, what happens until then?”
Natty squeezes your hand. “We’ll make it work. We’re not going anywhere, not really. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even get you on the Nice List permanently.”
Belle snickers. “That’s a stretch.”
Julie shoots her a look before turning back to you. “We’re serious, though. You said you wanted a family, handsome, well now you've got yourself a big one. You’re ours now, and we don’t take that lightly.”
The warmth in her voice is undeniable, and you find yourself smiling. “You’re mine too, you know.”
Natty grins, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Damn right we are.”
Belle, already reaching for another pancake, grins around her fork. “Better get used to it, lover boy. Three elf girls are no joke.”
The pancakes are history, coffee mugs bone dry, and sunlight floods the kitchen, casting everything in this weirdly golden, almost-too-perfect glow. Julie, Natty, and Belle are still parked around the table, eyes pinned on you like you’re the main event.
Julie’s the first to break the silence, her voice calm but carrying that no-bullshit weight. “Alright,” she says. “There’s one more thing we gotta hash out.”
“More bureaucratic bullshit?” you ask, half-joking, half-dreading.
Natty leans into her palm, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “Nah, not this time. This one’s about you. What you want.”
Belle tilts her head, her blonde hair catching the light. “Yeah, like… this whole setup? It’s not exactly your typical ‘happily ever after.’ Magic babies, council breathing down our necks, all of us living together—it’s a lot. Like, a lot a lot.”
Julie leans forward, her eyes dead serious but with a softness underneath that makes you pay attention. “We need to know if you’re really in this. Like, all in. This isn’t some fling or a one-night thing that spiraled out of control. This is real. It’s us. It’s a family. Forever. And if you’re gonna bolt or start second-guessing once we start building this life, we need to know now. Because if you’re not solid… it’ll wreck us.”
The word “wreck” just sits there, heavy as hell, daring anyone to argue with it.
You take a moment, looking at each of them. Julie’s got that sharp, take-no-prisoners look softened by something way more raw. Natty’s smirking, sure, but there’s a flicker of doubt behind it. And Belle, sweet Belle, is practically radiating hope, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of the shirt.
“I’m in,” you say, no hesitation. “For all of it. The magic, the council, the chaos. But mostly, I’m in for you. For us. For this family we’re building. Whatever it takes.”
Belle’s lips part in surprise, and her eyes well up slightly. “You mean that?” she whispers.
You nod, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Of course I mean it. I’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know what I don’t want. And what I want is right here.”
Natty’s grin returns, bright and full of mischief. “You realize we’re not exactly the poster-perfect family, right? You’ve got a dirty-mouthed toy-maker, a bossy logistics queen, and a cookie-devouring disaster. Not to mention the kids we’re about to have? That’s a circus waiting to happen.”
You chuckle, glancing at Belle, who’s already looking at the fruit bowl in the corner of the kitchen. “It’s not normal, no. But normal’s overrated anyway.”
Julie’s lips twitch into a faint smile, and she tilts her head. “You’d really give up your life here for us? Your home, your routines, everything you know?”
You shrug, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Home isn’t a place. It’s people. And I don’t need routines—I need you. All of you. Even Belle eating me out of house and home.”
Belle laughs, her cheeks pink. “You’d miss me if I didn’t.”
Natty leans closer, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And the council? The North Pole? That’s a whole different world, you know. It’s not just hot chocolate and snowball fights. You sure you’re ready for that?”
You meet her gaze, unwavering. “I’m ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.”
Julie lets out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all morning. “Well, shit,” she mutters, a smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”
Natty snickers. “Guess we’re stuck with him now, huh?”
Belle squeezes your hand, her grin wide and genuine. “Good. I like being stuck with him.”
Julie rolls her eyes but smiles, reaching out to rest her hand over yours. “Then it’s settled. You’re ours, big guy. Welcome to the weirdest family you’ll ever know.”
You laugh, your chest warm, full, complete. “It’s a family,” you say softly. “And that’s all that matters.”
Natty leans back in her chair, her grin wide. “Weird or not, it’s ours. And I have a feeling we'll be very happy.”
Belle beams, looking at everyone at the table with a certain enthusiasm. “Same.”
Julie claps her hands. “Okay, enough of the sappy shit. Let’s toast to this insanity.” She grabs the pitcher of orange juice and starts pouring it into the mugs around the table.
Julie lifts her mug, her voice low but steady. “To family. The unconventional kind.”
Natty raises her cup, her grin wicked. “To the craziest family of the North Pole.”
Belle lifts her juice, her eyes sparkling with the sunlight and something more. “To us.”
Julie locks eyes with you, her voice calm but full of unshakable resolve. “To family. The kind that doesn’t play by the rules.”
You raise your cup with a laugh. “To family.”
And for the first time, it feels like the holidays aren’t just another lonely season—they’re the start of something real. Something yours. Something forever.
1K notes · View notes
imaginedisish · 5 months ago
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Wild Horses (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Proofreading took way longer than I thought; sorry this didn't go up on time, y'all. Anyway, the song references came from an idea from an anon, but the fic itself isn't a request. Working through requests now (sorry I haven't been doing more). I really like this fic, and I hope you guys do too. There are a couple of songs in this one, but "Wild Horses" by the Stones is def a Logan song. Enjoy!
Summary: Logan takes you out for a friendly drink...that ends up being more than just friendly.
Warnings: 18+ SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, porn with very little plot, implied!age gap (Logan is older than everyone, tho?), friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, feelings, f!reader/afab!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.
Word Count: 4,362 back on my BS
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You’re sitting in a chair in the hallway, decompressing from the day—which, to be honest, is impossible in a place like this. Kids playing, running, yelling, T.Vs blaring all across the mansion. It’s always so noisy, always so active. And sometimes, that can be too much. 
A cacophony of voices bursts down the hall. One is bassy, louder, angrier than all the others. You smile softly to yourself. Logan. You can hear his footsteps against the hardwood floors as he makes his way towards the front door. He has his keys in his hand, and his leather jacket on his back. 
You perk up, trying not to seem upset that he’s on his way out. Although it’s probably no use; you wear your heart on your sleeve. You care about Logan, and that care extends beyond friendship. You’ve wanted him for months, but you’re not quite sure if he’ll ever feel the same. You’re friends—close friends—but just friends. 
He looks over to you, his frown suddenly turning to a smile. “I’m going out,” he says, nodding to the door. “Wanna come?”
“S-sure,” you stutter, pushing yourself up from your chair. You look down at your denim shorts and tank top. “I don’t know if I should change tho—” “You look perfect,” Logan says, shaking his head and smiling. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you try your best not to overthink Logan’s words. His hand is at your back, warm and undeniably massive, guiding you with him to the door. 
A cough erupts from behind you. “Where are you going, Logan?” You know exactly whose voice that is. 
You and Logan turn around, and there’s Scott. “Out,” is all Logan says, gruff and short. 
“We aren’t done talking, and you still have to run drills with—”
But Logan is tugging your arm and leading you out the door and towards the garage before Scott can get a word in. 
“Logan!” Scott calls from the front door. But Logan doesn’t stop, his hand now clasping around yours. He raises his fist in the air and unleashes just one of his claws: the middle. You giggle as Logan leads you inside the garage.
He walks you to the passenger door of his truck, opening it for you and closing it once you’re safe inside. It doesn’t hit you until he’s walking around the front that he opened the door for you. 
He slips in the driver’s side door and turns the key in the ignition, the truck springing to life. He pulls out of the garage, down the driveway, and through the gate. 
“So, where are we going?” You ask, turning to face Logan. 
His eyes drift between you and the road, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thought maybe we could get a drink,” he says, eyes on you again. There’s something behind his stare—a softness, maybe. It’s intoxicating and dizzying. It’s so distracting that you have to force yourself to acknowledge what he said.
“Sounds good,” you finally answer, smiling back at him. He nods, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift, dangerously close to your bare thigh. 
The ride to the bar is quick and quiet, but not uncomfortable. You feel safe with Logan, cozy, like you could have spent the entire night just driving around with him. The bar looks like a little cabin—definitely Logan’s kind of place. It’s quaint, and perhaps a tad divey. But you don’t mind. You’re with Logan; that’s all that matters.
He slips out of the car, and you follow suit. He’s at your side when you open the door, smirking, holding out his hand to help you out of the truck. You take it, stepping onto the gravel of the parking lot. You think he’ll let go, that he’ll drop your hand to your side, but he doesn’t. 
Logan leads the way into the honeyed, yellow light of the bar. It spills across the porch as he opens the door, the light consuming you as you walk inside. The bar is warm, filled with couples and friends sharing drinks and listening to music. Some people are dancing over by a set of speakers. You smile, instantly recognizing the song blaring from the speakers. 
I met her in a club down in old Soho Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like Coca-Cola C-O-L-A, Cola
You sing along, mouthing the words to Logan. A grin spreads across his face, his gaze flitting between your eyes and your lips. “You know this song? You like The Kinks?” He asks, his eyes narrowing as he tugs you over to a stool at the bar. 
“Of course! How old do you think I am?” You ask, moving your shoulders to the song as you sit down. 
He smirks, shaking his head. “Younger than me!” He shouts over the music, sitting down next to you, finally letting go of your hand. You wish he didn’t. You wish he held on. 
“Everyone is younger than you!” You shout back, singing the lyrics and swaying your head from side to side. 
Well, I'm not the world's most physical guy But when she squeezed me tight, she nearly broke my spine Oh, my Lola Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-Lola
Logan is watching you—watching the way your lips make that O in Lola, the way your hips shake in the chair, the way you throw your head back laughing when you mess up a line. He’s entranced by you. You finally notice him watching, and you giggle, hiding your face in your hands. 
Your eyes widen as his hands come up to yours, tearing them away from your face. “No hiding,” he says softly, so only you can hear him. “It was cut—”
“What’ll you two be having?” The bartender interrupts, arms crossed against his chest, towel thrown over his shoulder. 
“I’ll have a Coors, and she’ll have…” Logan turns to look at you, and you nod towards him. He takes the hint immediately, as if he can read your mind. “The same as me.” You smile as the bartender walks away to get your drinks. 
You part your lips, almost ready to ask Logan what he was going to say before the bartender cut him off, but you’re interrupted again as your beers are placed in front of you. 
“Thanks, bub,” Logan says, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and slapping it on the counter. The bartender grabs the bill and walks off to help the next patron. 
“So…” you trail off, watching as more people drift to the makeshift dance floor. “Have you been here before?” You ask, making conversation. There’s something about being out with Logan that makes you more nervous than usual. He’s never awkward to be around or hard to talk to. But in here? Out together? Alone? This is different. It’s almost like…
A date. 
“Just a few times,” Logan answers, snapping you back to reality. His long fingers wrap around the neck of his bottle, and he takes a swig. You catch the way he licks the little droplets on his upper lip, his tongue darting out all quick and gentle. You can’t help but wonder what his tongue would feel like against your own lips, and in other places too. Now is certainly one of those moments when you’re thankful Logan isn’t a telepath.  
You trace your fingers over the wet, cool bottle and take a swig, too. It’s ice cold, the alcohol burning at the back of your throat ever so slightly. Lola fades out, and Whole Lotta Love starts up. You nod your head, singing along in between quick sips. 
Logan shakes his head. “This one too?” 
“Oh my god, old man,” you remark sardonically. “Do you think I live under a rock?” 
“Didn’t peg you for a Zeppelin girl,” Logan says, tipping his bottle to you. “I’m impressed.” 
“Well, maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you say, meeting his bottle with yours. The clink is almost suppressed by the bass of the music. You bring the beer back to your lips and watch as Logan sips, too.
“Yeah?” He asks, pulling the bottle away. “What else don’t I know?” He leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the music pumping through your body, but you find the courage to lean into him. You can smell him—the pine and musk and tobacco on his flannel, his body. 
Your face is inches from his as you turn towards him, your noses practically touching. “I like dancing,” you hum. You down the last dregs of your beer and set it on the counter, grabbing Logan’s arm as Robert Plant’s voice croons throughout the bar. 
Way down inside
He knocks back the last of his beer, placing it on the counter as you tug him to the outskirts of the dance floor. 
Woman, you need, yeah
“I don’t usually dance,” he says, his hands finding your waist despite his words. He squeezes softly.
Love...
“But I’ll dance with you,” he says against the shell of your ear. And then his hips are rocking into yours, swaying with you to the beat. He’s never been this close, never this intimate with you. His lips ghost yours as the guitar and the drums echo against the wood floors and walls of the bar. 
Shake for me girl
I wanna be your backdoor man
You need more, need him closer. Logan pulls you in—chest to chest—his grip on your waist tightening. His hands slide around your back, slipping under your shirt. Your heart beats out of your chest as his fingers trail up and down your back. His lips find your ear again. 
“You’re pretty when you dance,” he whispers. “Pretty all the time.”
You look up at him as the song fades out. You part your lips to say something, but the next song starts up before you can find the words. You recognize the opening riff immediately, the acoustic guitar strumming gently through the speakers. It’s slow and soft. Logan pulls you back into his arms, closer this time. His palms rest against your lower back, and you let your arms wrap around his neck. 
“Don’t tell me you know this one too,” he husks, his lips at your ear again. 
Graceless lady
You know who I am
You know I can't let you
Slide through my hands
You smile into the crook of his neck. “Of course I do,” you answer. “Wild Horses. The Stones.”
“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs, pressing his hips harder against yours. You let your head fall to his shoulder as you lean into his chest. You can feel that ache between your legs spreading like wildfire. Friends don’t talk like this. Friends don’t dance like this. 
Because maybe you two aren’t friends. Maybe you never have been. 
“Logan,” you call, lifting your head. 
He’s just centimeters away, his eyes locked on yours. He tightens his hold on your lower back, your foreheads pressing together. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” 
And then his lips find yours, consuming you, engulfing you like an open flame. He’s warm and soft, better than black treacle and golden honey and maple syrup. It’s slow and languid, his arms wrapping around you tighter, trying to pull you closer. 
Wild horses
Couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses
We'll ride them someday
You reluctantly pull away as the song goes on, looking up at Logan—looking for more. 
“We should get out of here,” he says, keeping one hand firmly around your waist as he guides you off the dance floor and towards the door.
He grips you tightly as you head to the truck, practically breaking the passenger door off the hinges as he opens it for you. He closes the door more carefully now that you’re inside. In the blink of an eye, Logan is on the other side, opening the driver’s door and slipping in. He turns the key in the ignition, and quickly makes his way out of the parking lot and onto the road. 
His hand moves across the center console and finds your bare thigh—exactly where you wanted him to be on the way here. His thumb brushes gentle circles into your skin. Something about it is possessive, like he needs to touch you, needs to know that you’re not going anywhere. His foot is practically through the floor as he presses down on the gas, racing back to the mansion. 
A few minutes later, Logan is pulling into the garage, his hand giving your thigh one last squeeze before putting the truck in park. And then you’re both tumbling out of the truck and towards the mansion. 
Logan’s hand finds yours, tugging you along and through the door. The mansion is swallowed in darkness save for the few hall lights scattered here and there. 
He suddenly pins you against the wall, his lips capturing yours. “Could fuck you right here,” he whispers. “But I wanna fuck you properly.” He steals another kiss before letting you go and leading you up the stairs towards his bedroom.
Logan twists the doorknob and guides you inside. Moonlight pushes through his curtains, washing his bed in white light. He turns around to face you, grabbing your waist and pushing you against the door. He’s caging you in, towering over you. 
“Logan,” you whisper, his lips crashing down on yours again. He’s all firm and solid against you. He bites your lower lip, his tongue swiping across to soothe the sting. You can feel his erection straining in his jeans, throbbing. He needs you, and you need him too.
“Want you so fucking bad, pretty girl,” Logan says between kisses. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently before hoisting you up in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you across the room. He settles you in the center of the bed and climbs on top of you. He’s straddling you now, grabbing the bottom of his flannel and pulling it up and over his head. He’s wearing one of those beaters that you love so much underneath—tight against his abs. 
Logan lowers himself down over you, balancing on his forearm while his free hand explores your body. He slips under your tank top, his fingernails tracing every inch of your stomach. Your shirt hikes up as he reaches higher. He finally hits the hem of your bra and looks down at you. 
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “You sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his fingers dipping tentatively underneath your bra. 
“Y-yes,” you stutter, arching up into his touch. “More than anything.” 
His hand slips around your back in an instant, unclasping your bra before you fall back down to the mattress. He sits up, knees on either side of your waist, straddling you again. 
He grabs the hem of your shirt and practically tears it from your body, your bra falling away with it, leaving your upper half bare before him. His hands find your tits, grabbing, squeezing, palming them. “So fucking beautiful,” he husks, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. He settles back down over you, resting on his forearm as his free hand continues to glide over your breasts, pinching and pawing. 
“Lo,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together, searching for more friction. “N-need���” You trail off, unable to finish a coherent thought.
“I know, princess,” he soothes, swallowing your whines with a kiss. His lips trail to your jaw, your pulse point, and down to your collarbone. He keeps moving down, pressing a kiss between the valley of your breasts and then to your belly button. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands and settles between them, his fingers tracing the skin just above the waistband of your shorts. 
You sit up on your elbows, staring down at him. He smiles softly, cocking his head as one of his hands unbuttons your shorts and pulls the zipper down. He’s teasing you, leading you on as he thumbs your clit through the denim. A jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. You can tell by that smirk, that look on his face, that he’s loving this. 
“Please,” you whimper, and Logan obliges, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs and throwing them over his shoulder.
He settles back in between your thighs, his palms splayed on either side. His breath is hot against your cunt. “You gonna keep these pretty legs spread for me?” He huffs, and you nod emphatically. You need him now—you can’t wait any longer.
“Lo,” you whine again. “Please, fuc—”
But you’re cut off as he licks a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. He does it again, another slow, long stripe. He’s taking you in, consuming you, committing your taste to memory. He smiles against you as one of his hands climbs up your inner thigh. 
“Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against you, the bass of his voice rocking through your body. His fingers finally find your folds, your slit, spreading your slick before gently prodding your entrance. “Pretty little pussy,” Logan murmurs, shoving two fingers deep inside you. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly, his teeth grazing the bud. 
You curse under your breath as he laps at you—starving, reckless. His face is buried deep in your cunt, his hair a mess. His fingers pump in and out, deepening with every thrust. His tongue swirls around your clit, drawing hard, fast circles. You’re already getting close. It’s all too much—the feeling of his fingers deep inside you, hitting that sweet spot every time. 
“I-I—” you stutter, throwing your head back as your walls flutter around Logan’s fingers. 
He chuckles against you. “You what, pretty girl?” He pulls your clit into his mouth again, sucking harder this time. “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”
“F-fuck,” you stammer. “Y-you. Just need you.”
“Yeah?” Logan answers. You can feel him smirking between laps. “Just me?” And then he’s adding a third finger, plunging deep inside. He’s dragging against your walls, scissoring inside you. 
“Y-yes,” you answer, arching your back as he pumps in and out, down to the knuckles with every thrust. “Only you.” Logan mutters a curse against your cunt as he buries himself deeper inside. “Need you too,” he hums, his tongue flicking your clit, drawing rough circles around the bud. “Such a good girl,” he praises. “Can feel you getting closer, sweetheart.” As if on command, your walls clench around him, taking him in deeper.
“Feels so good,” you choke. He’s pushing you over the edge, and you can’t hold back anymore. “L-Lo I’m gonna—” “That’s it, pretty girl. I’ve got you,” he coos between harsh laps, his pace unrelenting. “Let go for me.” 
And then you’re coming undone around him, your walls contracting and fluttering. Pleasure washes over you in warm waves like liquid fire. You’re trembling underneath him, his head still buried between your legs. His thumb brushes over your hip comfortingly as his pumps slow and his fingers slip out. His tongue drags through your folds a few more times, savoring you, before he pulls away and looks up at you. 
“You okay?” He asks, his tongue swiping out to lick your juices from his lips as he sits up on his knees. 
You nod, reaching out to him. “Need you, now,” you beckon. Logan smiles, grabbing the hem of his beater and tugging it over his head. He unbuckles his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. His fingers hook into the waistbands of his jeans and boxers, yanking them down his legs. 
His cock springs up to his stomach, and you can’t help but let your jaw drop at the sight. Your breath catches in your throat at the size of him. You always thought he’d be big, but he’s massive. 
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he husks, settling between your legs as he lowers down over you. He balances on his forearm as his hand wraps around his erection, guiding his cock to your entrance. “Gonna take care of you,” he whispers, his tip sliding through your folds. “Gonna make you feel good.” 
And then he’s filling you up, bottoming out with one thrust. Your chest is flush with his, his cock unmoving inside you. You’ve never felt so full, so whole. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. He pulls out and plunges back in, down to the hilt again. “So fucking perfect.” 
His hand lets go of his cock but stays between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling softly. He starts to set a rhythmic, gentle pace, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him. But you know he can’t hold himself back for much longer. You can feel the way his cock twitches and throbs against your walls as he drags himself in and out. 
You rock your hips against his. “Logan,” you moan. “M-more.”
His lips find yours—two puzzle pieces coming together. “You sure, sweetheart?” He asks, his thumb adding more pressure to your clit. 
You nod. “Y-yes,” you stutter. “I can t-take it.”
He curses under his breath, pulling out and slamming back in. He pounds into you, his cock hitting that spot deep inside, where you need him most. “Wanted you this whole time, pretty girl,” Logan grunts, thrusting in and out carelessly, punishingly. “Thought about you all the time, thought about fucking you just like this.” 
“Th-thought about you too, Lo,” you whimper. 
His cock twitches inside you. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans, his hips snapping against yours, thumb flicking your clit. “Say it again.” “Lo,” you pant as he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, fingers clinging to his biceps. “Logan,” you moan again, his name the only thing on your mind. 
Your walls flutter around him as he pounds into you with reckless abandon. “That feel good, sweetheart? You like when I take what I want?”
“Fuck, Lo, yes,” you whine. You’re growing closer and closer with each snap of his hips, with every swipe of his thumb against your clit. You know you can’t last much longer, not with his lips on yours, not with his praises floating through the air. 
“Doing so good for me, princess,” he whispers, his voice deep and raspy. “Taking me so well. Can feel you squeezing me.”
You contract around him as he sinks inside you, working you open with every thrust. It’s too much. “L-Lo,” you stammer. “I’m s-so…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 
“I know, princess. I’ve got you,” he hums, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.” His thumb circles your clit, faster, harder, still splitting you open with every pump. “Know you can come again; know you can take it.”
You shatter underneath him as the words leave his lips, falling apart in his arms. “Logan!” You cry out, your orgasm crashing into you, harder this time. His thumb is still on your clit, his cock pumping in and out with no signs of stopping. He isn’t letting up or letting go. Your nails dig into his biceps, searching for support, purchase, something, anything. 
Logan slams into you, chasing his own orgasm as that tension builds inside you again, liquid heat raging through your body. “Lo,” you whine. “It’s s-so much.” The pressure is so intense it almost burns, but it burns deliciously. It’s thick and hazy, dizzying and uncontrollable. 
“Just a little more, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his pace faltering, growing sloppier with each pump. “Know you have another in you, know you can take it.” 
He flicks your clit, electricity sparking at the base of your spine. You’re so close again, ready to burst. “C-close,” you stammer. 
“Me too, pretty girl,” Logan grunts, cock twitching against your walls. “Wanna fill you up, wanna stay inside.”
You wrap your arms around his back, keeping his chest pressed to yours. “P-please,” you whimper, clenching down around him uncontrollably. His thumb is still stroking your clit, back and forth, drawing rough, tight circles. 
“Come on, princess. Come on my cock again,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. You listen, his name on your lips as you let go underneath him. You’re melting into the sheets, dissolving into nothingness, into air, as your orgasm courses through you. 
Logan lets go too, filling you up, spilling inside you. “So fucking beautiful like this. Always so beautiful,” he praises, his thrusts slowing as he rides out his orgasm. He pulls out, his thumb stroking your clit a few more times, easing you down from your high. 
He presses a soft kiss to your lips, rolling onto his side and tugging you with him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about doing that…how long I’ve thought about you,” Logan confesses, his fingers drawing abstract shapes across your lower back. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.”
Your chests heave together, breathing in time. You can feel him, still half hard against your thigh. “I thought you saw me as just a friend,” you say, smiling at how quickly things have changed in one night. 
Logan shakes his head, smiling back. “Never saw you as just a friend, princess.” He presses another kiss to your lips, savoring the feeling of you against him. “Should’ve taken you out sooner.” He presses his forehead to yours. “But I would’ve waited…waited forever just for you.”
You can see the adoration in his eyes, the love. And you know he means it. You bury your head into his chest. “I love you, Lo,” you whisper. 
“I love you too, princess. Always have.”
tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago
Note
Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!
I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!
Brother's Coworker
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PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader
SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.
WORDCOUNT: 4.2k
WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.
A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.
Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.
“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts. 
“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles. 
Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.
“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”
“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head. 
Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest. 
Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”
You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts. 
“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!” 
“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly. 
Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.
“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.
“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”
“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you. 
“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”
“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”
Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back. 
“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod. 
“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”
“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes. 
Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even. 
This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet. 
He stands like a statue. 
“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.
“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.” 
A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.” 
You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”
Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.
Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.
“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.
“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John. 
Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.
Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.
Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.
Christ, how long had you been staring at him?
“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.” 
Your brother slashes you with a grin.
“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals. 
“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.” 
“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.
“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material. 
“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk. 
“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”
“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively. 
“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.
“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind. 
Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down. 
Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.
Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again. 
Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window. 
You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.” 
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”
“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.” 
“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”
“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs. 
Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away. 
He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker. 
Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.
“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes. 
“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.
“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech. 
Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows. 
“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head. 
Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air. 
“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.” 
A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”
You huff and smirk. 
“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows. 
You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder. 
Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.
“That’s my job!” 
Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip. 
“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?” 
The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.
“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed. 
You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat. 
“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”
“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing. 
Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed. 
Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently. 
“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”
“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips. 
“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.” 
Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should. 
“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear. 
He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece. 
You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.” 
By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another. 
Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want. 
Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything. 
“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”
Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed. 
The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava. 
“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”
Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.
Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.
“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.” 
“I just told you—”
“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.” 
Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight. 
What in the hell was going on? 
Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible. 
For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was. 
In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too. 
He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively. 
When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed. 
“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”
“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.
“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.” 
The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” 
Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly. 
“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt. 
“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.
Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment. 
“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.” 
“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment. 
Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften. 
You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”
“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?” 
“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.” 
The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.
You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.” 
Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.
“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”
Splaying your hands, you back out. 
“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”  
“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.
“Well, why not?” Simon glares.
“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.
“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”
You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt. 
With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back. 
“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire. 
Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm. 
A secluded home. Nothing around. 
Then why had your words seeped into him?
“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.
In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death. 
As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you. 
Silent.
There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside. 
The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.
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