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heegyukeluv · 2 months ago

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complementary - the physics of your body [part 1] (sjy)

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.”

“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?”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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?

part 2

#jake x reader #sim jake x reader #jake sim x reader #jake smut #jake fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #heegyukeluv works

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flowersforbucky · 2 months ago

Text

for always and ever is always for you

old man!logan x healer!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: logan is getting sicker by the day, and charles' seizures are occurring more and more frequently. logan didn't think he'd ever see you again - but desperate times call for desperate measures.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, descriptions of blood and illness, angst, logan's pov, reader is afab, language, slow burn as far as one-shots go, no use of y/n, caliban being sassy, mutual pining, friends to lovers, unprotected p in v, oral (m&f receiving), face sitting, cream pie, some dirty talk and pet names

author's note: thank you @embbarnes for reading this and letting me rant about it and assuring me that it's worth posting 🫶🏻 this took me an embarrassing amount of time and i have to say i am pretty proud of it. flashbacks are in italics

divider by @saradika-graphics!

“This is the third time in the last week, you know.”

Logan stares down at the deep red splatters of blood that creep towards the drain. The skin of his knuckles begin to turn white from how harshly he grips the edges of the sink – he’s surprised the ceramic doesn’t shatter. He turns the faucet on, lowering his lips to the weak stream to collect enough water to rinse the taste of iron from his mouth.

“I know that,” Logan spits the now pink tinged water into the bowl and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You don’t think I fuckin’ know that? I’m the one hacking my lungs up here.” He shoves past Caliban, exiting the small bathroom.

Logan doesn’t want to snap at him – hates that it happens as often as it does. But right now he’s late for work and the last thing he needs is to hear Caliban harping on about this again while he scrambles to find his car keys.

“You know I hate to keep bringing this up,” Caliban continues as he follows Logan into the makeshift kitchen of the abandoned smelting plant.

“I find that hard to believe,” Logan mumbles under his breath. He finds his keys hidden under some junk mail and shoves them in his coat pocket before pouring himself some coffee to take with him to work. It’s day old and not as strong as he’d like for it to be, but he’ll be glad that he has it when midnight rolls around.

“Charles,” Caliban continues. “The medications are doing very little to help him anymore. We’re having to give him twice as much as we were a month ago, which means we are running out twice as fast. He’s getting worse. You both are. We need to find a… specialist that can help with both of our problems.”

Logan snorts in response, practically able to feel Caliban’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

“There ain’t a thing that any doctor can do for me and you know it.”

Maybe Logan hasn’t had the flu, or strep throat, or even the common cold in two hundred odd years, but he knows there’s no prescription that any physician can write that would stop his very bones from poisoning him.

“Let me rephrase that, then. Not a doctor. You need to see a healer.”

Logan freezes, his posture going rigid.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re going to say, I suggest shutting the fuck up.”

“He’s had a record number of seizures so far this week,” Caliban implores. “You’re barely standing upright. There’s a chance that she could help you both.”

“She’s out of the question,” Logan spits before storming past him. He yanks the door open and slams it closed behind him as he steps into the late evening Mexico sun.

How does Caliban even know about you? Some of Charles’ rambling in his rare moments of lucidity, no doubt.

It doesn’t matter if you can help or not.

For a lot of reasons, it doesn’t matter.

The most obvious one being he hasn’t talked to you in over a year and doesn’t know where the fuck you’re at.

••••••

“You don’t have to stay back there, you know. You can come closer. You’re not in my way.”

There’s no hint of condescension in your voice. Only patience, and reassurance. Still, Logan doesn’t budge from his position in the corner of the mansion’s infirmary.

You don’t press him any further.

He had lost track of how long he’d been standing here, just watching in complete silence as you tend to the young mutant’s injuries.

Logan doesn’t even know the kid’s name. He doesn’t know any of their names. But he’d been the one to find all five of them in a locked cell on today’s mission, and he isn’t going to leave this room until he knows that they are all okay.

You’d already taken care of four out of the five. They now rest peacefully in individual beds, no doubt the warmest and safest they’ve been in God knows how long.

Your hands hover a few inches above a young boy’s chest, emitting a pale purple glow as you wave them over his torso, letting your powers radiate from your palms into his body.

Logan notices the color of your power isn’t as vibrant as it was when you’d healed the first child’s injuries, or the second, or third. Originally a bright violet, it’s now a lackluster lavender.

He also doesn't miss the way that you suddenly close your eyes with furrowed brows, but he remains in the corner, watching you carefully. You dig your teeth into the flesh of your bottom lip in concentration, causing Logan to take an involuntary step forward at the pained expression on your face.

Your hands drop down to the railing of the bed that the boy lays in, clutching the bars to keep you from falling over as the energy you’d been emitting fades away.

“Shit,” you huff, out of breath. A thin layer of perspiration glistens on your forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asks as he moves closer to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you grunt, nodding as you look up at him. You give him a forced smile that does very little to reassure him. “I’m fine. It’s just been a while since I’ve had to use so much of my powers in such a short amount of time.”

“Maybe you should sit down for a minute, yeah?” Logan looks around the infirmary, walking a few feet away to grab a chair for you. He places it next to the bed that you’re still using for support.

“I’ll be as good as new soon,” you assure him as you take a seat. “This happens occasionally.”

Logan stands beside you, awkwardly leaning against the edge of an empty bed next to the boy’s. He watches as you lean forward, taking the kid’s small hand in your own. There’s no resurgence of purple – you’re simply holding it. The boy is sound asleep, so the act makes Logan wonder if it’s for his comfort or your own.

“If I exert too much energy at once, I feel the effects of it. Not enough to really hurt me, just.. leave me feeling like I need to sleep for a week,” you explain with a weak chuckle. Logan’s eyes are fixated on the way that your thumb soothes over the skin of the boy’s hand.

“A gift that comes with a price,” Logan murmurs. “I know how that feels. Though it sometimes feels more like a curse in my case.” He instinctively glances down at his knuckles, his claws sheathed away.

“I can see how it would feel that way,” you agree, glancing up at him with a soft expression. “But it’s not what your power is that determines whether it’s a curse or a gift. It’s what you do with it. And these kids are alive because of you. A lot of people are, because you choose to use it for good. I’d say that makes it a gift.”

“I guess I should try to look at it that way more often,” he hums.

“Plus, having the ability to heal yourself has gotta be pretty neat. I think you’re the only person here who would never have to ask me for my help.” You glance back up at him, a hint of a smirk ghosting your lips.

They’re pretty, he thinks – your lips. He mentally scolds himself, knowing now isn’t the time or place to be thinking about your lips.

“You can count on that, bub.”

When Logan wakes, he doesn’t have the chance to mourn the memory he’d found himself reliving in his sleep.

He does find himself on the floor by his bed with the breath knocked from his lungs. His hands come to shield his ears, attempting to block out the high-pitched shrieking that makes his ear canals feel as if they are filling with blood.

Judging by the sunlight streaming into his room through the thin, tattered curtains covering his windows, he guesses that it’s mid-afternoon. He couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours – meaning it also couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he had given Charles his most recent dose of medicine.

With the world shaking around him, a half empty bottle of liquor and an old coffee mug both shatter as they fall off of his bedside table and hit the ground.

Logan and Caliban had recently cleared off all shelves in the smelting plant, moving anything that could potentially fall and break during one of Charles’ episodes closer to the ground, but after a long night of driving around drunk assholes, it’s easy to forget that even a ceramic cup on a small table is a hazard.

He can tell by the way that the air around him feels as if it weighs ten tons that Charles has to be close by. He musters all of his strength to force himself to his feet. Each movement feels as if he’s in slow motion as he fights against the psionic energy that works to keep him frozen in place.

As slow as if he has hundred pound weights attached to each of his feet, he makes his way from his bedroom and to the common area. When he turns the corner, he first sees Caliban, still as a statue with his facial features contorted in agony and his typically alabaster skin turning redder by the second from the pain. He’s less than a foot away from where Charles sits in his wheelchair, where he appears to have been watching a movie.

Logan frantically looks around the room, searching for where he had placed the bag of injections and pills when he’d forced Charles into swallowing his last dose just a few hours ago.

He finds it on what is used as a dining room table. It’s sheer good luck that Logan had thought to prepare an emergency dose of the injection earlier that day, most likely thanks to Caliban’s lecture from yesterday evening still looming in the back of his mind.

After what feels like hours, Logan finally reaches Charles with the injection and plunges the needle into his chest. The second that the medication enters his system, the seizure ceases.

Caliban and Logan both collapse to the ground in relief. Logan clutches his chest, trying to steady his heartbeat and regulate his breathing.

“You dream of her just as she dreams of you,” Charles whimpers through labored breaths.

“What?” Logan snaps, glaring at Charles from his position on the dirty floor. His ears must still be ringing from the effects of the seizure, because he can’t have heard him right. “Quit reading my mind.”

“Your thoughts are always loud when you think of her,” Charles murmurs, turning his attention back to the movie on the screen in front of him as if nothing had happened.

It's the first time, Logan realizes, that Charles has mentioned you since the day of his first seizure. Even without specifically saying your name, Logan knows exactly who he’s referring to.

“Make that four incidents this week,” Caliban grumbles as he jerks the plastic bag filled with medication out of Logan’s hand. He digs through it, pulling out a pill bottle and dumping two into his palm. “He’s averaging an episode per day, and each one feels stronger than the last. It’s only a matter of time before he kills–”

“Do you know where she’s at? Can you track her?” Logan interrupts him. Caliban pauses to look at him, visibly annoyed.

“Oh, so it’s a good idea now that he–” he jabs a finger in Charles’ direction, “mentions her once, is it?” He stomps over to where Charles watches the television, seemingly oblivious to the conversation happening right beside him.

“Take these. Both of them.” He shoves them into Charles’ palm and then storms past Logan.

“Didn’t say anything about it being a good idea,” Logan grunts, following him into the kitchen. “But you seem to think it is and I don’t know what else to do. So can you find her or not?”

“Of course I can,” Caliban retorts defensively. “As long as you have something with her scent on it.”

Logan throws his hands up in frustration, and then rakes one hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I haven’t seen her in over a year. Why would I have anything that smells like her?”

“It doesn’t have to be dosed in her favorite perfume,” Caliban huffs. “But I can’t track anyone without some amount of their scent to go off of.”

“Goddammit,” Logan groans between gritted teeth. He turns in the opposite direction, heading back to his bedroom.

He thinks back to the last time that he saw you – the last time that his life had any sense of normalcy. The day of Charles’ first seizure, the day that he saw seven of his friends die, you weren’t there. By some miracle, you had been out of town.

But a few days before that – it had been snowing. It was the first snow of winter and you had taken a group of younger students to play outside in the middle of class.

Logan was called over by a few of the kids who begged him to help make a snowman. You kept to the sidelines, watching him with the students, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself to keep your cardigan pulled securely around your chest.

He remembers pausing what he was doing to run over to you and insist that you take his jacket until you were all back inside. He remembers how much he liked seeing you wear it, and how silly he felt when he didn’t like that you remembered to give it back.

He remembers being enveloped in the smell of honey and cream when he shrugged the jacket back onto his own shoulders. Less than a week later, he found himself in Mexico with no need to wear such a heavy leather jacket.

It's now been over a year since he’s so much as touched it.

Logan begins rifling through the drawers of the dresser that looks to be as old as he is, containing all of the clothing that he owns. It doesn’t take but a few seconds until he recognizes the feeling of the worn leather against his fingertips.

He brings the jacket up to his nose, inhaling where your skin and hair had rest against the collar. He breathes in deep, concentrating on the scent that transports him back to before his life was completely uprooted and turned upside down. With his eyes closed, it’s easy for him to let himself believe he’s standing in the kitchen of the mansion with your arms around his neck.

It's faint. If he didn’t have enhanced senses, he may not have been able to detect it at all. But it’s there – familiar and nostalgic and unmistakably you.

••••••

It takes Caliban all of sixty seconds to pinpoint your location.

Logan doesn’t quite know how to feel about learning that there’s only one state in-between the two of you. He wasn’t sure where he expected you to be, really – it doesn’t surprise him that you didn’t stay in the state of New York, and he didn’t think you would return to your hometown, but knowing that you’ve possibly been just a half day’s drive away from him this entire time makes a lot of emotions surface that he’s been trying to push down for the last year.

He begins the drive just after six in the morning. By the time the sun starts to set that evening, he enters the city limits of Silverton, Colorado.

Nestled in the snow-capped Rockies, the small town couldn’t be more polar opposite of where he has resided for the last thirteen months. The stark differences nearly cause him to turn his limousine around and head back to the smelting plant without even bothering you – if you’d chosen somewhere like this to live, there’s no way you’d be content with the brutal, dry heat of northern Mexico.

But this is the closest he’s been to you in nearly four hundred days, and despite the fact that he’s spent the last ten hours of this car ride thinking about what he’s going to say to you and still doesn’t fucking know, he can’t bring himself to go back to Mexico without trying.

Without at least seeing your face. Without at least seeing for himself that you’re doing okay.

He knows it’s selfish. He knows he made his choice when he took Charles to Mexico without even letting you know that they were alive. It doesn’t matter that he had his reasons for doing so, it doesn’t matter how much it killed him inside – he made his choice and he should have to live with it, without disturbing your peace and asking any of this of you.

He justifies it by telling himself that it’s for Charles, and Caliban. Maybe it’s his pride, but he refuses to make his ailing health your responsibility. Asking you to help with Charles is already asking too much.

He turns down a dirt road, following the approximate – not exact – instructions that Caliban had provided. Thankfully, it’s a small town in both size and population, so it doesn’t take him too long to find the neighborhood that Caliban had described.

He knows he has found the right house when he sees your car. He recognizes it instantly due to the cracked rear bumper that you still have yet to have replaced and its unique sage green color that peaks through the light dusting of snow.

He pulls into your driveway, parking his limousine next to your vehicle and turns off the engine. He takes in the appearance of your home – a small, cozy cabin with smoke erupting from the chimney. All of your curtains are pulled closed but there’s enough light peaking through them for him to know that you’re inside.

The thought occurs to him that he might not find you alone. It’s been over a year – you could have found someone to build a life with. They could pull into this very driveway at any moment. Hell, you could have a baby for all he knows. He might be seconds away from learning that you have a whole family of your own–

His thoughts only stop spiraling when he sees your front door swing open, your face peeking around the frame a second later. Confusion is etched across your features as you notice the limousine parked in front of your porch.

You don’t yet know that it’s him due to the limousine’s tinted windows, he realizes.

You exit the house, stepping onto your front porch with your arms crossed over your chest as you wait for the driver of the vehicle to make themselves known.

You haven’t aged a day. Your hair being longer than the last time he saw you is the only physical proof that any time has passed at all.

Logan attempts to clear his face of all of the emotions coursing through him and opens the driver’s side door, stepping out of the vehicle.

Thanks to the adamantium poisoning his body, his eyesight has started to decline over the last few months. But Logan doesn’t need to have his glasses on to know that you look like you’re seeing a ghost.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets you in a cautious voice. He stays planted where he’s at, waiting for you to respond before coming any closer to the front porch steps.

He swears he watches you go through all five stages of grief in under a minute. Confusion fades to shock, shock turns to denial, and denial morphs into anger before you’re left with a blank expression.

“I know I’ve got a lotta explaining to do,” Logan starts. “If you’ll let me, I’ll answer every question you have. I’m just asking you to hear me out.”

It takes every ounce of self-restraint that he possesses to not walk up the steps of your porch and wrap you in his arms. He may be standing just a few feet away from you, but it doesn’t feel real. He’s convinced that at any moment, he’ll wake up back in his pathetic excuse of a bedroom in the smelting plant.

You take a few small, tentative steps forward. Your eyes never leave his, an unreadable expression on your face. Logan can’t tell if you’re trying to decide if he’s real, if you’re about to jump into his arms, or if you’re about to yell at him to get the fuck out of here.

You come to a stop on the bottom porch step.

“What’s the deal with the limousine?” You nod towards the vehicle behind him.

“I’m uh – I’m a limousine driver,” he answers lamely.

“A limousine driver,” you repeat with raised brows, though it doesn’t sound like a question. “You know, there have been a lot of nights that I’ve laid awake wondering where you’re at and what you’re doing. Of all the possibilities, I never considered limo driver.”

Logan opens his mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it again when you turn on your heel, walking back up the steps and to the front door. You pause before you cross the entryway, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Take your shoes off at the door. Don’t be tracking snow into my house.”

Logan watches you retreat into the house, his body frozen in place. As far as initial reactions go, he supposes that could have been significantly worse – but he knows he isn’t out of the woods yet.

He follows you inside, kicking his boots off at the door and closing it behind him.

The inside of your house is warm, thanks to the gentle fire going in the fireplace in your den. It’s cozy – you’ve decorated for the approaching holidays. Garland and twinkling lights adorn your mantle, and in the corner of the living room is an elaborately decorated tree. The whole place smells like a mixture of the candle burning on your coffee table and whatever you have cooking in the kitchen.

It's not just cozy, he thinks. It’s homey. And he’s about to ask you to leave it all for a dirty, grimy, old smelting plant.

He follows you into the small kitchen, where you stir something in a giant pot on your stove.

“Do I even want to know how you found me?”

He can tell that you’re trying to maintain a level tone, but he doesn’t miss the way that your voice shakes and rises an octave on the last word.

He clears his throat, pulling out a chair for himself at your dining room table.

“His name is Caliban. He’s a mutant who can track other mutants. I asked him to find you.”

You hum in response, continuing to tend to the food in the pot with your back turned to him. Logan knows that telling you he asked Caliban to track you down is just the tip of the iceberg here, but he doesn’t want to throw too much at you at once. So he watches as you grab a variety of seasonings from the cabinet above you, and lets you take your time with questioning him further.

“And why did you ask him to find me?”

“For Charles,” Logan answers. “I didn’t want to disturb you after all this time. I know you’re probably angry and you have every right to be but.. his seizures. They’re getting worse. The medications that I give him aren’t helping like they used to.”

You cover the pot with a lid, and turn the dial on the stove down to low before turning to face him. You lean up against the counter, your arms once again crossed over your chest – a telltale sign that you’re on edge, Logan remembers well.

“You mean the seizures that killed a bunch of our friends and have caused the United States government to classify his brain as a weapon of mass destruction?”

Logan gives you a curt nod. “Yeah. Those seizures. We’ve been living in an abandoned smelting plant just south of the border in Mexico. He mostly stays inside an old water tower. The metal it's made from helps keep the seizures contained to the immediate area around us, but.. they’re getting stronger. Happening more frequently.”

You chew on your lower lip, a passive expression on your face as you take in Logan’s words. You don’t meet his gaze, your stare fixated on something on the other side of the room.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?” Logan counters.

You turn away from him again, reaching into a cabinet to grab two bowls. Logan watches as you ladle some kind of soup or stew into the bowls and pull two spoons from a drawer.

You place one bowl in front of him, and the other at a chair across from him before retrieving a bottle of dark colored wine and two glasses.

“It’s only been a year since I last saw you but you look about ten years older,” you finally answer as you uncork the bottle and fill the two glasses. You push one across the small table. “Sorry. I haven’t had much of a reason to keep any whiskey on hand.”

Logan’s not surprised by the observation – you’re not wrong. He knows the adamantium poisoning his body has taken a toll on his physical appearance. His hair and beard have started to gray, his skin appears more leathered, his under eyes more crinkled.

After barely aging a day in decades, the difference between a year ago and today must look drastic to you.

But that isn’t why he’s here. He can handle some aches and pains, some coughing fits, and all of the other ailments that come with typical aging. He can hide it all from you – he won’t make that your burden to bear in addition to asking you to help with Charles.

“Yeah, well,” Logan starts, staring down at the stew in front of him to avoid your gaze. “That’s what working night shifts and taking care of a ninety-seven year old disabled psychic with Alzheimer’s induced mega seizures does to a person.”

“No one asked you to do that, Logan. I would have helped you if you had given me the chance. I would have followed you any–”

“I know,” Logan cuts you off. “I know you would have. But I had just watched almost everyone that I love die. I couldn’t risk it, letting you get hurt too. Staying away from you for the last year, it’s.. it’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I did it because I knew it would mean you’re safe.”

You’re silent. Your lips quiver, and Logan loses his appetite at the way your eyes begin to gloss over with unshed tears.

“Did you at least think about reaching out?”

If your watery eyes make Logan lose his appetite, the brokenness in your voice makes him feel sick with himself.

“Every single day.”

He doesn’t tell you that you frequent his dreams, or that he thinks of you every time a Pink Floyd song comes on the radio, or that he hears your voice in the back of his mind telling him to drink more water when all he’s had that day is coffee and bourbon.

He wants to. But he doesn’t.

You give a small nod to his answer, but otherwise say nothing. You pick up your spoon and take a small, unenthusiastic bite of the food in front of you. Logan forces his attention to his own stew, not really wanting to eat but knowing that he needs to – he had only stopped for gas and a bathroom break once during the drive here. He hasn’t eaten anything since he choked down a stale granola bar before leaving Mexico early this morning.

The two of you sit in a loaded silence. Despite how heavy it feels, he can’t help but feel more relaxed in your presence than he has in a long, long time.

Your spoon clinks against the empty bowl when you finish eating. Logan looks up to see you gulping down the last of your wine.

You sigh. A long, exaggerated sigh.

“Why couldn’t you have shown up yesterday, before I put up all of my Christmas decorations?”

••••••

Logan thinks that the interior of his limousine will smell like a Christmas tree threw up in it for the next few months.

Not that he’s complaining. The sickeningly sweet scent of balsam is a small price to pay for you agreeing to come to Mexico.

He knows he probably shouldn’t feel as relieved as he does – he doesn’t even know if your powers will be effective in helping with Charles’ seizures.

But he can't lie to himself. The entire time he spent the better part of the night helping you pack your things into totes to load into your car and his limousine, he was on edge – afraid that you'd change your mind at any moment.

Of course he felt relieved when he watched your car pull out of your driveway after typing the smelting plant’s address into your GPS early this morning.

Approximately eleven hours later, he doesn’t think he’s ever been so glad to be in Mexico. The drive to Colorado, packing for hours into the night and then getting a few hours of shut eye on your couch, and then the drive back to the smelting plant has taken a toll on him.

His hips ache from sitting for so long and he’s experiencing what has to be a pinched nerve in his lower back.

That’s a first for him.

When he arrives back home, he’s relieved to find that he got here before you. Maybe he’ll have enough time to take a long, hot shower and let some max strength ibuprofen go into effect before you can notice the way that he hobbles inside.

“Oh, thank God,” Caliban exhales when he sees the door open and Logan limps inside. “You haven’t answered any of my calls or texts. Did you even think to check if I was alive? He could have had a seiz—”

“Sorry,” Logan grunts, walking past him to retrieve the bottle of painkillers from a cupboard in the kitchen. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied, trying to get back here as soon as possible and what not.”

He tosses back four pills dry and then turns to face him again. “And I knew you weren’t dead. You blew up my phone enough to assure me of that.”

“Well, a reply or two keeping me updated would have been nice. Tracking you only tells me so much.”

Logan rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have the energy for this right now.

“She’s on her way here now. How’s that for an update?” He pushes past Caliban, just wanting to go stand under a painfully hot stream of water.

“You actually managed to get her to agree to come here?”

“I’m as surprised as you are.” Logan grabs a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen counter and starts walking towards his room. “And get the spare room cleaned up for her.”

••••••

“I know it isn’t much, but I’m gonna get you a better mattress tomorrow.”

A few hours later, long after Caliban and Charles have retired to the old water tower for the night, Logan stands in front of where you perch on the edge of the twin sized cot in your bedroom – if it can even be called that right now.

Aside from the sad excuse of a bed, the only other things in the room are a small bedside table with a lamp, and several storage totes containing your belongings that Caliban had brought in from Logan’s limousine.

If he’d had more time to prepare, he would’ve done more, but just forty-eight hours ago he never would have guessed that you would actually be sitting here in front of him.

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “It’ll be better once I have some of my things unpacked.”

“Right,” Logan nods. “Well, I'll leave you to that then. Just.. let me know if you need anything.”

He turns to exit the room, but freezes when he grabs the doorknob. He turns back around, and finds you looking at him expectantly – almost hopeful.

“I appreciate it. You coming here. You don’t owe me anything after the way I just ran off without any explanation. But I'm really glad that you’re here.”

His heart swells when he sees the way that your expression softens. You’re too good, too forgiving and understanding. The fact that you let him into your home, served him dinner, and packed up your entire life into a few boxes and came here after a year of no contact proves it.

He takes a step closer to you, trying his hardest to ignore the sharp burn that radiates from his lower back as he forces his body forward. Despite how hard he tries to hide the discomfort, you seem to notice that something is bothering him – he can tell by the way your brows furrow together and your mouth sets in a harsh line. You scoot back a few inches on the cot mattress, making room for him to take a seat next to you.

“And I just want you to know that I’m sorry,” he continues, cutting you off before you can even ask if he’s okay.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to hear me say it. I’m sorry for the way I handled things. It wasn’t fair to you. I was just scared shitless and wanted to do what I could to keep you safe. Getting as far away from you as possible seemed like the best way to do that at the time.”

Logan internally curses his rambling. Typically a man of few words, he can’t help but feel silly at the sentiment. You’d always had a way of drawing a level of vulnerability from him that no one else ever had. He still feels that effect today.

“I understand why you did what you did, Logan,” you start. You look at him with such understanding that he feels himself physically relax at your words.

“It just… hurt.” You give a small shrug, bringing your hands together to dig your nails into your palms. “I lost my friends too, you know? You and Charles included. I know that you and I, we were never…” you trail off, but he knows what you mean without saying it.

Together. Never truly together.

A million almosts that never amounted to what he truly wanted run through his mind. He’d long ago accepted that you and him would never be more than an unspoken thing but the reminder of it still stings, coming from your lips.

“Anyway,” you shake your head. He wonders if you’re thinking of the same memories that he is – the seemingly small ones.

The ones that he wouldn’t have expected to stick with him, but ended up haunting him. Having a drink in the mansion’s courtyard together after particularly exhausting missions – or even just particularly exhausting days of teaching children. Walking into the kitchen to find you making lunch – and you just so happened to have made enough for him, too. You, on the back of his motorcycle with your arms secured around his stomach, your bodies pressed as close together as they ever had been.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still hurt over it. But the truth is, I was too relieved to find you standing in my driveway to tell you to leave. And I missed you too much to not come back here with you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper by the time you finish speaking. A singular tear leaks from the corner of your eye, which you hastily wipe away.

“Just don't fucking do that again, okay? I definitely wouldn’t be as forgiving if it happened a second time.”

“I wouldn't forgive myself if it happened a second time,” Logan tells you – and he means it. He still doesn’t know if he can forgive himself as is. But you seem to forgive him, and that's enough for him for the time being. “I promise. M’not going anywhere.”

“Good,” you murmur with a small smile, seemingly content with his reassurance. “So, about Charles… I was thinking, if the seizures are as bad as you've told me, I probably won't be much use if he's actively having one. I was thinking that starting tomorrow, I could try to work with him using my powers little bits throughout the day. Not too much at once so he doesn't get frustrated.”

You're right. There’s nothing that anyone can do once one of Charles’ seizures begins, except for Logan. It’s solely due to his healing factor that Logan is able to muster enough strength to administer one of Charles’ injections during a seizure. Humans – as well as mutants like you and Caliban – are rendered incapacitated.

“I’ll let him know that you’re here in the morning,” Logan nods in agreement. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

“I hope so,” you sigh. “I’ve missed him.”

As content as he’d be to sit here and talk to you all night, you’ve both had long days of driving and tomorrow brings a lot of uncertainty, so he knows that he should let you get some rest.

“We should probably try to get some sleep,” he says reluctantly. He starts to push himself off of the cot when the nerve in his lower back catches and causes him to hiss in pain. He tries to play it off, hoping you didn’t notice the way he visibly grimaced at the sudden sharp pain.

“Logan? What's wrong?” You ask, concern etched in your voice. He refuses to meet your gaze, knowing it'll be harder to lie to you if he looks you in the eyes. Instead he forces one foot in front of the other, and takes a slow step forward.

“It’s nothin’. Just stiff from driving so much is all.”

He feels your hand wrap around his wrist as he starts to take another step, stopping him in place. He hangs his head, still refusing to look at you. He doesn't think he can handle the concern and worry that is undoubtedly written on your face.

“If you were anyone else on the planet, I might believe that.” You stand up next to him, and your grip on his wrist only tightens. His face heats up; a side effect of your questioning stare and close proximity.

“But I’ve seen you get impaled with a crow bar before. It healed before I even had time to fret over you. So what’s really going on?”

It hits him how naïve he was to ever believe that he’d be able to easily conceal what’s been happening inside his body from you. The effects of the adamantium poisoning have been becoming more physically apparent for a while now, and you of all people – someone so familiar with not only illness and injury, but also him – were bound to pick up on the fact that something is very different than the last time you saw him.

He finally looks at you, your face every bit as concerned as expected.

“My healing factor has started to slow down,” he says delicately, trying to keep his tone even. The last thing he wants to do is freak you out even more.

“Slow down? How?”

“The shit my bones are made of seems to finally be aging me.” He chooses to forgo using the word poison, but still answers as honestly as he can bring himself to.

“But you don’t need to worry yourself with that, ‘kay? That’s not why you’re here. Some back pain isn’t anything that I can’t handle,” he quickly adds when distress distorts your features.

You purse your lips, leaving him wondering how you’re going to respond.

There’s a sudden sensation radiate from where the skin of your palm and fingers are wrapped around his wrist – it’s a soft vibration, soothing and serene. It starts at his hand and travels up his arm before expanding through his chest, back, and eventually down to the soles of his feet.

For a few moments, he feels like he’s floating. The weight of the adamantium bones disappear for the first time in decades, leaving him feeling feather light. The feeling fades away as gradually as it appeared, and with it subsides the pinching in his lower back.

He realizes that he’s looking at you as if you grew a second head. He doesn’t know why he’s so taken off guard – he’s seen your powers first hand before. He just never imagined there would be a time that he’d actually learn how it feels to be on the receiving end of them.

He glances down at where you finally release your hold on his hand. When you pull away, he sees the remnants of a purple glow emanating from your palm.

“I figured you would have said no if I had asked beforehand. Am I wrong?”

“No,” he admits in a gruff tone. “Guess not.”

“Well? How does your back feel now?” You look at him with raised brows, as if you don’t already know the answer.

“Better. But don’t make a habit out of that. I want you saving your energy for Charles.”

Truthfully, he physically feels the best that he has in months. In addition to his back being free of the sharp pinching sensation, the chronic stiffness that has plagued his body is gone. Even his eyesight seems clearer.

But he thinks back to one of his earliest memories of you – the one that had presented itself in his most recent dream. He remembers the vibrancy of your power gradually dimming as you grew more tired and the way that your forehead glistened with sweat when you were worn out from excessive use of your powers.

You roll your eyes and plop back down on the edge of your cot.

“I’m more than capable of helping you and Charles both. Do you think I’d really let you suffer, knowing you’re in discomfort?”

He knows that trying to fight you on this is as about as useful as arguing with a brick wall.

“I don't doubt your capability,” he tells you gently as he eases towards the door to your room. “But I'm not the priority here. Now get some rest, alright?”

Your response is a brief nod that tells him he hasn’t heard the last of this conversation.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Just down the hallway, he traces the tips of his fingers over where your hand had been wrapped around his until he falls into the most peaceful and comfortable sleep he’s had in over a year.

••••••

“She’s a healer. She worked at the school as a nurse and teacher. You remember her, yeah? She’s here to see if she can help us out some.”

Logan hands Charles a double dose of pills and watches until he’s swallowed them. They are already running low on the seizure suppressants as is, but he makes him double up anyway. He’d rather be on the safe side, since you are going to be working with Charles this morning.

“Of course I remember her,” Charles retorts after he’s taken the pills. “As if I could ever forget with how often I see her face appear in your mind.”

“Could you do me a favor and not mention that, maybe?” Logan grumbles. He doesn’t doubt that it’s true, but he’d prefer Charles to not mention it within the first five minutes of seeing you.

The door to the old water tower creaks open, allowing midday sun to infiltrate the dim space as you come inside. Caliban enters behind you.

“Hi, Charles,” you greet him cheerfully “It's so nice to see you.”

Your voice doesn’t give it away, but Logan notices the nervousness in your gait – in the way that your posture is rigid and your footsteps are shorter and quicker than normal as you walk over to them.

Charles gives you a smile – the first genuine smile that Logan has seen from him in as long as he can remember.

“Hello, my dear,” he beams at you. “We’ve missed you.”

You return his smile with a bashful one of your own, and wring your hands together in front of you.

“I’ve missed you guys, too,” you say, your eyes flickering between him and Logan. “I’m glad to be here. I’m going to be using my powers to try to get your seizures under control. Is that okay with you?”

“Anything sounds better than these two cramming pills down my throat like clockwork,” he grunts with a glare at Logan and Caliban.

“It’s not exactly fun for us either, you know,” Caliban scoffs.

“Enough, you two,” Logan interjects when Charles opens his mouth to respond. “We—” he motions to himself and Caliban, “are going to give them some privacy.”

He'd be lying if he said the thought of leaving you alone with Charles during what will undoubtedly be a vulnerable time didn’t make him nervous. But he doesn’t want to overcrowd and overwhelm him, either.

Though a large majority of Charles’ seizures are random, many have been brought on by a state of a emotional distress, too.

He knows that he doesn’t exactly possess a natural aura of peace like you do.

A hint of anxiety flashes across your features before you quickly compose yourself. Logan starts to follow Caliban’s lead to the door, but stops when he's directly in front of you.

He reaches out and almost puts a hand on your waist before he thinks twice of it. His fingers linger awkwardly at your hip for a moment before he drops the hand back down to his side.

“I'll be close by, okay? If you need anything,” he says to you lowly. He glances over his shoulder to see Charles now tending to his bonsai tree, not paying attention to anyone around him.

“I know,” you assure him with a smile and nod of your head. “Don’t worry. I won’t push him. If he starts to get agitated, frustrated, bored… I’ll stop immediately.”

Logan gives you one final, short nod before reluctantly following Caliban outside and back into the smelting plant.

“You sure do seem to be getting around well for someone who could barely walk yesterday,” Caliban says in a faux casual voice as he tugs the balaclava style mask off of his head as soon as he is out of the sunlight.

Logan sighs and curses under his breath, already knowing the direction that this conversation is headed.

“Now that I'm thinking about it, I also didn't hear you having any nightmares all the way from the water tower last night. Must have had a good night’s sleep.”

“What's your point?” Logan snaps. He yanks the fridge open, scanning the scarce shelves for something to eat.

He really needs to go to the grocery store once you've finished up with Charles. And buy you an actual bed. And stock back up on Charles’ medications –

“No point,” Caliban continues, “Just glad to see that you changed your mind about telling her about your condition is all. Even if you did threaten me within an inch of my life to not tell her right before you left for Colorado.”

“What can I say,” Logan grunts. “She isn't blind. She clocked it within an hour of being here.”

Logan spends the next hour alternating between pacing the floor of the smelting plant and smoking cigars outside of the water tower. He reminds himself repeatedly that everything must be going okay, because if it wasn't, he would know by now.

He also reminds himself of the intense feeling of tranquility that came over him when he felt the effects of your powers. He can’t imagine anyone not finding it euphoric – even Charles, in all of his stubbornness.

He's finishing up a cigar when you exit the water tower after what feels like an eternity. He immediately stubs it out, remembering how you used to tease him about getting cancer if he didn’t stop smoking.

It wouldn’t surprise him if that was an actual possibility for him these days.

“How’d it go?” he greets you. He tries to keep his voice neutral – doesn’t want to make it obvious how anxious he’s been for the last hour. “Did he do okay?”

“I guess we won’t really know until he either has a seizure or… doesn’t,” you sigh. “He did surprisingly well. But the damage that the Alzheimer’s has done to his brain is widespread. I doubt there’s much reversing it. My goals are to reduce the severity and frequency of the seizures and to stop the damage from progressing any further.”

The two of you walk side by side back to the smelting plant, where Logan opens the door for you.

“So that means that I might be staying here for quite some time.”

You ease past him through the small doorframe, your chest grazing against him ever so slightly. The familiar light scent of vanilla and honey lingers after you’re walking away.

Were you just smirking at him or is he hallucinating?

Scratch that, were you just flirting with him?

“I think I can find a way to be okay with that.”

He didn’t expect you to go back to Colorado anytime too soon, given how much you packed – and the fact that your fucking Christmas tree sits in the common area – but he can't ignore that hearing you imply that you have no intention of leaving in the immediate future brings him more comfort than it probably should.

With your back turned to him as you open the refrigerator, he’s unable to see your expression, but he hears you hum in response – a sound somewhere between amusement and contentment.

“But if I'm going to be staying here for any amount of time, the food situation is going to have to improve. How do you live like this?”

He sighs, remembering the current state of the fridge and cabinets. He ended up settling on an overripe banana for breakfast. He normally reserves grocery shopping for his off days – Mondays or Tuesdays – but those days had been occupied with traveling to and from Colorado this week.

“I’ve got some errands to run today,” he starts, feeling an inkling of nervousness settle in the pit of his stomach. “Get some groceries and refills on Charles’ medications… if you wanted to come with me.”

He tells himself that he invites you because it just makes sense – of course you need to familiarize yourself with the area that you're going to be living in, even if it's just temporary. It's important to know where the closest grocery store, and gas station, and pharmacy is.

And it also just makes sense that he would be the one who to show you around. Charles can't even go to the bathroom by himself and Caliban is allergic to the sun.

That's what he tells himself, anyway.

“I could be persuaded to go with you,” you drawl. “If…” You trail off, leaving Logan to look at you with a cocked brow.

“If you let me ride in the backseat of your limousine?”

••••••

“Well? Was it everything you thought it would be?”

Logan sits directly across from you in a small booth at a mom-and-pop diner. It’s nearly noon and you had yet to eat today, so Logan made the last minute decision to pull into the restaurant’s parking lot after acquiring Charles’ medications.

“What?” you question as you swallow a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes. It may not be breakfast time anymore, but he knew you would appreciate the fact that this place serves all day breakfast.

“Being chauffeured around in a limousine.”

“For some reason the limo smelled like a Christmas tree farm exploded in it,” you say nonchalantly. “But the driver insisted on taking me out for all you can eat pancakes so I’m still going to leave him a good review.”

“I’m sure he had a perfectly good reason for his limo smelling like that,” he retorts in mock defense. “But he probably should try to take care of that before he goes back to work tonight,” he adds, making a mental note to pick up some air freshener at the store.

A cheeky grin spreads across your face. You look like you’re about give him some kind of smart remark when the waitress walks over to the booth with a steaming pot of coffee.

“Good to see you in here with someone for a change,” the older woman, who Logan knows is named Lucille without having to look at her name tag, remarks as she tops off both of your mugs. “Did you finally take my advice?” She asks Logan.

“Every time he comes in here I tell him that he needs to get on one of those dating apps,” she says to you before he can answer.

You immediately cover your mouth to keep from spewing your coffee across the table.

Logan’s face heats up by ten degrees. He should have known better than to trust Lucille to be able to read the room.

“No,” he snaps. “I have not downloaded Tinder. Or Bumble, or Hinge. Maybe you should give them a try and stop worrying about my love life.”

He shoos her away, but she just cackles and slaps him on the shoulder.

“Honey, I’ve been married for forty-five years.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s your ring?” He asks, nodding towards her naked ring finger.

“We’re not allowed to wear jewelry on the clock, Nosey Nelly,” she jabs back. You sit silently, watching the interaction with pursed lips to keep from laughing.

“Nosey Nelly,” Logan grumbles under his breath as he fishes his wallet out of his pants pocket. He pulls out his debit card and slaps it into her palm.

You finally release a snort of laughter when Lucille waddles away.

“I take it that’s your best friend?”

“Believe it or not, she’s an improvement from Caliban.”

The two of you finish your meal with easy flowing conversation. You tell him what led you to Colorado, and about how you worked part time at a veterinarian’s office and part time at a bookstore. He tells you about some of the drunk, unhinged customers that he's had in his limousine lately.

It’s easy for him to forget that less than forty-eight hours ago, he hadn’t seen you in over a year.

Before your lives were irrevocably altered, you had been one of the closest friends he had ever had. One of the most important people in his life. Sitting across from you now, it’s too easy for him to remember why that was.

••••••

Logan’s reluctant to go to work tonight.

And it’s not just because he fucking hates his job and isn’t in the mood to tolerate the bachelor party currently occupying his backseat.

To an extent, he’s always nervous to go to work. He works night shifts because Charles sleeps at night, and is therefore less likely to be triggered into a seizure during the nighttime hours. It’s the safest time for Logan to be away.

It hasn’t happened before, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t. And with you now at the smelting plant, he worries about it happening while he’s away even more than he typically would.

He arrives at the strip club that the groom had requested he drive to and parks. They all drunkenly stagger out of the back of the vehicle, leaving Logan to relish in the silence after the door slams shut.

He pulls his phone from his coat pocket and sees that he has no messages.

He’d told you to text him if you needed anything, so it’s a good thing that you haven’t, right?

It’s just before midnight, so you're most likely asleep. The lack of a text is probably not anything as drastic as the conclusions that his brain is jumping to.

Still, he can't stop his fingers as he types out a message and hits send.

How’s the new bed?

After your brunch date – Lucille's words, not his – the two of you bought enough groceries to feed four people for a week and then went to the only furniture store in town to find you an upgrade from the fold out cot that they'd happened to have on hand when you arrived.

His phone dings just a minute later. He releases the breath he’d been holding before even reading your response.

It’s a major improvement. You were right - not too soft, not too firm. Though it feels a whole lot bigger than it did in the store.

He reads over the text at least five times and thinks back to your time in the mattress store earlier that day.

The first couple mattresses you tested out were too soft, the next few too firm. Logan didn’t mind that you were being indecisive – really. He was secretly relieved to have an excuse to spend more time with you, away from Caliban and Charles.

He laid down on a mattress that you hadn’t checked out yet and instantly thought that it was significantly better than his personal mattress at the smelting plant.

“What about this one?” He asks, patting the empty space next to him on the queen sized bed. You walk over to the opposite side of the bed and crawl in beside him. With your arms down at your sides, one rests against his. The mattress is more than big enough for you, but with him next to you, it’s a cozy fit.

He types: Is that a good thing or a bad thing? and presses send before he can overthink it. His screen shows that you read the message right away, and he can’t help but imagine the smirk on your face as you lay tucked beneath the covers.

The words ‘What do you think?’ appear on his screen.

He thinks he feels like a fucking teenager with the way that a few harmless, borderline flirtatious text messages from you has him imagining what it would be like to really share the bed with you.

His jeans begin to feel uncomfortably tight. He clicks the phone off and tosses it in the empty passenger seat beside him, before he says something that crosses a line that he can’t uncross.

••••••

The relief that your powers had provided Logan had been blissful but short-lived.

By the time he gets home from work at around four in the morning, his back pain has returned with a vengeance.

Everyone is asleep when he gets in, of course. He hobbles to his room as quietly as he can. Caliban and Charles are in the water tower, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He hopes that by the time that you’re both awake later today, the pain will have subsided in his sleep.

Two hours after he lies down, he realizes that sleeping it off is an impossibility with the amount of discomfort he’s in. He’s done nothing but toss and turn in a futile attempt to find a comfortable sleeping position, the extra strength ibuprofen and his heating pad only doing so much to ease the stabbing sensation at the base of his spine.

He knows the answer to his problem is just down the hallway.

But it's early – the sun is just now starting to rise and he has yet to hear you stir from your room. He can't bring himself to wake you up over some back pain, knowing that you'll need to use your powers to help Charles soon.

He sits up with a deep groan, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. If he already can't sleep, he may as well make something to eat and settle the rumbling in his stomach.

Taking slow, short strides, he walks back down the hallway to the kitchen as quietly as he can manage.

He comes to a halt when he sees your door open, your head popping out from around the frame.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, your voice huskier than normal with sleep.

“How’d you guess?”

You step into the hallway, still in a pair of plaid sleep pants and an oversized crewneck.

“Your bed creaks every time you move.” You cross your arms over your chest, standing less than half a foot away from him. There’s evident concern on your face when you take in his stiff posture. “This place has thin walls.”

“Sorry to keep you awake.” He looks down at the ground, embarrassed. “I’ll stay in the living roo—”

“Don’t be silly,” you stop him. You grab his hand in yours and begin to pull him back in the direction of his bedroom.

He thinks about protesting – part of him wants to tell you that you shouldn’t bother. He thinks he should tell you that he appreciates it, but he’s a lost cause, and the relief will only be temporary.

But your hand is too warm and your skin is too soft and in the end, he isn’t strong enough to deny himself the feeling of your touch, so he let’s you lead the way to his bed.

You drop his hand to position yourself on one side of the bed. You don’t get underneath the comforter, but you do pull it back on his side so that he can crawl beneath it.

His isn’t quite as big as your new bed – it’s only a full size mattress, so it’s even more cramped than when the two of you laid on the mattress in the store yesterday, but he isn’t complaining.

It's unchartered territory for you two, this type of intimacy. He doesn’t remember the last time he shared a bed with anyone, but if there’s one person on the planet that he trusts enough to allow next to him in such a vulnerable state, it’s you.

“Lay however is most comfortable for you,” you instruct him gently.

He maneuvers onto his side, facing you. You copy his position, your faces inches away from each other’s on a shared pillow.

“Now close your eyes,” you whisper.

He does as you ask, and then feels your palm rest against the thick stubble of his jaw. Your thumb grazes across the skin of his cheekbone. He melts into your touch before you’ve even started using your powers.

“Is this okay?” you murmur.

“Mm-hmm,” he sighs against your hand. “Could just lay like this for a while and I’d probably fall asleep. Don’t even need to use your powers.”

You snort and run the tips of your fingers through his beard.

“How about I do both? That okay?”

He nods, too tired to think about stopping you.

He falls asleep to the soft hum of your powers within minutes, and dreams of the color purple.

••••••

Over the next few weeks, everyone falls into a comfortable routine.

You continue to work with Charles for an hour in the mornings and then again in the evenings. Your powers help him more than Logan ever could have hoped for. Not only is this the longest he’s gone without having a seizure in months, but he’s also increasingly lucid and alert, and more like his old, spunky self than ever.

Most weeknights you cook dinner for everyone, and Tuesdays become the day that you join Logan in going to town for a weekly grocery restock and brunch at the same diner that he first took you to a few weeks ago.

He tries not to make it too obvious, but it quickly becomes one of the best parts of his week – even with Lucille’s relentless teasing about how there’s “no way you’re just friends” and Logan would be “the biggest idiot on the planet to not lock you down”.

Neither of you ever put much energy into disagreeing with her.

The other best parts of his week occur early in the mornings, before daylight breaks and Charles and Caliban are still sound asleep. He gets home from work and you move from your bed and into his, relieving him of any physical discomfort he could be experiencing from hours of driving around and lulling him to sleep.

The first few nights, he’d wake hours later to find that you had escaped back to your own room after he’d fallen asleep. Then, one morning, when he woke up, he opened his eyes to find your face resting against his shoulder.

You stopped bothering to go back to your own room after that.

This evening – Christmas eve – Logan sits on his bed and stares at the gift that he’d gotten you while you finish preparing the dinner that you’d been working on for the last few hours.

He feels silly. There hadn’t been any discussion on getting each other gifts and he worries that it’ll make you feel weird.

It’s an espresso machine – nothing too fancy, but it’ll get the job done. You had recently mentioned how much you miss the espresso machine that you had in Colorado. The house you had been renting came furnished, which included an espresso machine that you were unable to bring with you to Mexico.

He stopped by a Target before work a couple nights ago and picked it out. To top off how silly he feels, he’d completely forgotten to buy wrapping paper or even a gift bag, so he’ll just be handing it to you as is.

“Dinner is almost ready!” He hears your voice call from the kitchen.

The smell of honey glazed ham and fresh rolls wafts down the hallway. He places the box containing the espresso machine on the floor beside his bed, planning to give it to you after Charles and Caliban go to bed in a few hours.

When he rejoins everyone in the common area, Charles is watching Home Alone and Caliban is gathering plates and silverware for everyone while you remove a large dish of baked mac and cheese from the oven.

“Smells great,” Logan compliments as he grabs a beer out of the fridge. “Anything I can help with?” he asks, as if you hadn’t all but shooed him out of the kitchen just an hour ago.

You place the casserole dish on a trivet before grabbing one of the plates that Caliban had set out.

“Yes, actually,” you say, surprising him. You hand him the plate with a small smirk. “You can make Charles a plate.”

“Oh, can I?” He takes a step closer to you, taking the plate and grinning down at you. “Are you sure you trust me to do that?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’ve been alive two hundred years and haven’t taken the time to learn to cook.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to have you teach me-"

“Would you two stop flirting and get me some ham?” Charles voice booms over the television and silences you both.

Logan notices you purse your lips to keep from smiling as you turn your attention back to the spread of food across the dining room table.

Soon, you’re all four sat around the dining room table with plates piled high with traditional holiday dishes. Logan is halfway through clearing his plate when Charles clears his throat to speak.

“This is wonderful,” he directs at you. “Thank you very much. You know, this all feels very familiar to me…” he trails off, glancing between you and Logan from across the table. The smile on his face fades, and in it’s place appears an expression of confusion.

From the corner of his eye, Logan sees your grip on your fork tighten.

“Thank you, Charles,” you tell him. You try to sound cheerful, but Logan doesn’t miss the nervous edge to your voice. He knows that you’re noticing the same thing as him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Yes, these candied sweet potatoes are delicious,” Caliban interjects in an obvious attempt to maintain easy conversation. “You'll have to give me your rec—”

“This feels so familiar,” Charles repeats and all three of you go silent.

In his gut, Logan fears that he knows what is coming. It always starts this way. One minute, everything will be perfect. The next, something triggers a memory, or a feeling, and Charles is hit with the weight of the past – with the weight of the trauma that his brain normally blocks out.

“This feels like… how Christmas used to feel. When we’d have dinner at the.. at the mansion. With all of our friends before I.. before I killed them—”

“Charles,” Logan says firmly, but Charles continues to stare into space. “It wasn't your fault. Okay? Let's enjoy this nice dinner. Do you want some more green beans—”

But he’s unable to finish his sentence before it begins. The exact thing he’s been the most terrified of since you arrived here weeks ago.

Across from him, Caliban's face is frozen in agony. Beside him, your mouth is open as if to scream, but no sound comes out. Every one around him is still, and his body suddenly feels a few hundred pounds heavier.

It's been weeks since Charles’ last seizure, but Logan knew it was too good to be true – knew that it was bound to happen again eventually. He'd planned for this, knowing the effects of the psionic energy would hurt you as they do Caliban.

Logan forces himself into a standing position by pushing off of the dining room table, and then takes as big of steps as he possibly can to get to the opposite side, where Caliban and Charles sit.

He ignores the blinding nerve pain all over his body, he ignores the intense ringing in his ears, he ignores the way it feels as if all of the air has been ripped from his lungs and reaches down to grab the bag of medication from the compartment beneath Charles’ wheelchair – where he's made sure to keep it, in case of this exact scenario.

Despite his shaking hands, he manages to retrieve an injection and uncap it. He jabs the tip of the needle into the flesh of Charles’ shoulder with as much force as he can muster, then collapses to the floor beside him.

Charles releases a grief stricken groan, realizing what had happened. Logan hears both you and Caliban gasping for air.

“I'm sorry,” Charles cries. “I'm so sorry..”

Logan pulls himself off of the ground using the edge of the table and instantly turns his attention to you. Your eyes are wide and your hands are visibly shaking in your lap, but you exhale the breath you'd been holding when your eyes meet Logan's.

You push your chair back, standing and closing the distance between the two of you. Your hands grip the tops of Logan's biceps. He instinctively rests his on the sides of your stomach.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your voice wobbly and several octaves higher than normal.

“I'm fine,” he assures you delicately. “Are you okay?”

You nod, hesitantly at first and then more confidently as you take him in and seem to realize that he really is alright.

“I'm fine too,” Caliban grunts from across the table. “Don’t worry yourselves with me.”

Logan and you both quickly retract your hands, breaking the embrace. You turn your attention to Charles, who seems to be in another world.

“Charles? Are you alright?” You ask him softly.

“Hm?” He hums as he glances up at you. “Oh, yes. I’m alright. I think.. I think I’d like to go to bed now,” he murmurs. Logan, you, and Caliban all exchange glances before Logan tosses the bag of medication to Caliban.

“Give him a double dose of the suppressants and some sleep medicine,” Logan instructs him. Caliban nods wordlessly and wheels Charles away from the dining room table, towards the smelting plant’s door.

Once they’ve left the building, Logan turns to you. You look visibly shaken, and he can’t blame you. He remembers all too well how frightening the effects of the seizure was the first time he experienced it. Even with this one being relatively short lived, he knows it had to have been more painful and scary for you than it was for him.

“I’ll clean all of this up, okay?” He says, gesturing towards the half eaten dinners and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “You go relax. Take a shower, lay down for a while—”

“Really, Logan. I'm okay, I prom—”

“Will you do that for me?”

To his surprise, you don't object any further. You give him a small nod, and a comforting squeeze to his hand as you walk past him.

He doesn't release the sigh of both relief and frustration that he’d been holding in until he hears the shower turn on a few moments later.

••••••

As soon as Logan finishes tidying up from dinner, he cuts two small slices of an apple pie you had baked and puts them on a plate for the two of you to share.

Your door is slightly cracked, the soft orange light from your table lamp spilling into the hallway. He knocks quietly and waits for you to tell him to come in.

You’re in your pajamas, tucked under a blanket with a book partially obscuring your face. You do little to acknowledge his presence, so he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and places the plate of pie beside him.

The room looks significantly different than it did just a few weeks ago. In addition to the new bed, you'd also acquired a vintage dresser and an area rug that you’d found for cheap at a thrift store. You have books in piles throughout the room, one of the things that you were most adamant about bringing with you from Colorado.

“Charles is alright,” he tells you gently. “He must have just been really tired. He didn’t nap much today. Caliban said he fell asleep really quickly after taking his medicine.”

“Except that wasn’t why he had a seizure,” you sigh, closing your book. Logan now has a better view of your face, and the first thing he notices is that your eyes look red-rimmed and watery. You sit up straight, and he inches closer to you on the bed.

“Hey, what’s going—”

“It was definitely my fault that he had a seizure,” you sniffle, looking at him with defeat.

“What? No,” Logan shakes his head. You have a blanket draped across your lap, but Logan places his hand on your knee over top of it. “What makes you say that?”

“I always work with Charles for an hour in the mornings and an hour in the afternoons,” you start, frustration evident in your voice. “But this afternoon, I cut our session short because he wasn’t really in the best mood and I wanted to get started on prep for dinner.”

You wipe underneath your eye with the sleeve of your shirt and look away from Logan’s gaze.

“Sweetheart, you can’t blame yourself for this,” he assures you as he rubs slow circles on your knee with his thumb. “He was having seizures almost every single day before you got here. You’re not the reason he had a seizure today. But you are the reason he’s been able to go weeks without having one.”

“Okay?” He prompts when you don’t respond. You finally look him in the eye again, and offer a small nod of agreement.

He hands you the plate of apple pie, earning a small smile from you.

“Wait here. I’ve got something for you,” he tells you as he stands up and begins walking towards your door.

“Something for me?” you question, but he’s already halfway down the hallway.

He grabs the espresso machine from beside his bed and heads back to your room. He still feels nervous to give it to you, but right now he’s just hoping that it will help cheer you up.

When he re-enters your room, you’re forking a bite of pie into your mouth and freeze when you see what he’s carrying. He sits back down on the edge of the bed, still holding the box. You sit the plate of pie on your bedside table and scoot closer to him.

“Logan, you didn’t have to,” you murmur. He hands you the box and you hug it to your chest, but only look at him. He thinks your eyes are starting to look watery again. “I feel so bad. I didn’t get you anything—”

He waves his hand in dismissal, not surprised at all by your reaction.

“I know I didn’t have to. Just wanted to. Is that okay?”

You inspect the espresso machine with a bashful grin. “Thank you. I love it,” you assure him with a gentle squeeze to his hand. “I just wish I had gotten you something, too.”

“That’s not necessary,” he says, staring down at where your hand holds his. “You give me everything I need just by being here.”

You go still at his words with a look he can’t quite read on your face. You pull your hand away from his before placing the espresso box on the floor next to your bed. The hand that previously held his comes to cradle his face, your thumb grazing along his cheekbone. He turns his head ever so slightly to the side so that his lips graze against your palm. He kisses the skin once, then twice, and your eyes flutter closed.

His heightened senses don’t miss the way your heart rate picks up, or the way that you hold your breath as his lips linger on your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” He murmurs into the side of your hand. You open your eyes, your pupils dilated.

“Same thing I’ve been thinking about for years now,” you whisper as you lean forward, pulling his face to you.

You capture his lips in yours, opening up for him without hesitation. He slips his tongue into your mouth, the sensation simultaneously feeling brand new and like you’ve done this dance a hundred times before.

He scoots further back onto the mattress, away from the edge. He pulls you with him, guiding you onto his lap. You straddle him, his hands resting on your lower back. You fist your hands around the fabric of his flannel, pulling him flush against you.

It's years of pent up desire and longing that you pour into each other. You drag your teeth along the swell of his bottom lip and he groans into your mouth, resisting the urge to buck his hips up against your center.

He knew you looked sweet, smelled sweet – but never would he have guessed that you’d taste even sweeter. Even if it weren’t for the faint hint of cinnamon and apples from the pie you’d nibbled on, he’d think you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

You grind down against the uncomfortable bulge contained by his jeans and whimper – the prettiest sound he’s ever fucking heard and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You pull back, your chest heaving from lack of air.

“Why didn’t we do that years ago?” you ask breathlessly. He reaches up to your face, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he answers quickly. His eyes lock on your kiss swollen lips and he thinks you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now – staring down at him with puffy lips wet with his kiss. “But now that I’ve kissed you, I’m not gonna stop. Gonna kiss you for as long as you’ll let me.”

And to prove his point, he starts trailing wet, open mouth kisses along your jaw and down your throat. You throw your head back, giving him unhindered access to the skin of your neck. He alternates between kissing and nipping the tender flesh, leaving a damp trail across your skin.

You grab at the hem of your shirt and Logan pulls away to allow you to tug it over your head. You’re left naked from the waist up and Logan is left feeling like his cock is going to break through the zipper of his jeans.

With your tits directly in front of his face, he latches his mouth to one nipple and palms the other in his hand. You rock yourself against his erection, chasing the relief that the friction provides you.

“Logan,” you pant from above him. “Please—”

He pulls his mouth away from you with a wet pop, leaving your nipple glistening and taut.

“Tell me what you want, honey.”

You let out a low whimper at the pet name and drag your fingers through his hair. He toys with the waistband of your pajamas pants, popping the elastic band lightly against your skin.

“Your mouth,” you say, the words somewhere between a whine and a plea. “I wanna feel your mouth on me.”

He groans at the bluntness of your words. Hearing you say that you want his mouth on you has his cock throbbing in his pants.

“Yeah?” He taunts as he maneuvers you off of his lap. He quickly tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere behind him. Your eyes trail down the expanse of his chest, your mouth slightly agape.

He tilts your head so that you’re looking at his face again and tugs at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

In that moment, he hopes you never stop looking at him like that.

“You gonna sit on my face?”

You nod, eagerly. You push your pajama pants down past your ass and thighs, and Logan helps pull them the rest of the way over your calves and ankles. You lean forward, reaching for the waistline of his jeans and fumbling with the button until it pops open.

He sees you completely naked before him and his brain goes momentarily blank. He can’t believe he actually gets to see you like this – bare for him and more perfect than he ever could have envisioned.

And believe him, he had tried. Nothing could have prepared him for how it actually feels to see you, touch you, taste you after years of yearning for you.

“Lay down for me?” You ask with a small laugh, snapping him out of his trance. He does as you ask, placing his head on one of your pillows.

You straddle his chest, your back to his face. He helps you inch backwards until your pussy hovers directly over his mouth. He pauses for a moment, spreading your thighs apart with his hands to give him a clear view of your already dripping cunt before yanking you the rest of the way down to his mouth.

You moan as soon as his tongue slides through your wet folds, bracing your hands on the defined planes of his chest. The sweet and salty tang of you fills his mouth and he has to resist moaning goddamn, I love you into your cunt.

He could get drunk off of the flavor of you.

You grind yourself against his face, your juices coating his beard and your inner thighs. He’s so focused on working you with his lips and tongue that he doesn’t even notice you pushing his jeans and boxers down until he feels his cock spring back and slap his lower belly.

“Fuck,” you moan at the sight of him. You pump him in your hand, smearing the pre-cum from his slit down his shaft. “You're so big. I don’t know how you’ll fit inside me.”

He hears you spit, then feels it drip across his tip. You smear the warm wetness down his length and press a kiss to the side of his cock before taking him in your mouth. The head nudges against the back of his throat before you pull back, then ease back in, slow and deep.

He’s always loved your lips, but right now he’s doesn’t think he could ever love them more. He wants to watch as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head along his length, but that’s going to have to wait for another time.

Right now, he’s right where he wants to be. He has your swollen clit locked between his lips, sucking on it to the point that your legs quiver around his head. You lean forward, pressing your chest against his stomach as you run your tongue down the entirety of his cock and stroke him in your hand.

“I’ve waited so long to taste you,” he grunts from beneath you. The vibrations of his voice making your pussy clench around the finger that he teases your hole. “This cunt’s so fuckin’ sweet.”

He eases his index finger past your entrance, your walls constricting around the digit. “And so fuckin’ tight,” he adds, pumping in and out of you as you begin to move forwards, then backwards, up, and then down – grinding against his finger.

“Logan, I'm gonna cum,” you cry and it makes his balls tighten. He feels it – the way you gush around his finger and the way your legs clench around his head.

You ride out your orgasm above him, and then collapses against his chest. Your skin is sticky with sweat against his, despite the fact that the current cold front has the smelting plant colder than normal tonight.

You roll off of him, falling onto the mattress next to him. Your slick glistens on your thighs in the soft glow of your lamplight. It's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen, he thinks. You fucked out and delirious from your climax.

But he thinks he might fucking die if he has to spend one more second of his abnormally long life not knowing how it feels to be buried inside you.

He helps pull you into a sitting position, and then lays you down in his place. Your tits heave as you try to regain control of your breathing. He's on his knees, fisting himself in his hand as he nudges your knees open. Your eyes are locked on his cock, a look of half excitement and half terror.

“You can take it, honey. I know you can,” he coos.

He slaps the tip against your clit, then glides it up and down your wet length. Not entering you quite yet, but coating himself in your slick. He looks down at himself next to your pretty, wet cunt and imagines how it’ll be to see it sliding in and out of you.

“Just been a while, that’s all,” you say, pulling him down to the by the back of the neck. He lines himself up at your entrance, nudging just the tip in. Even that’s a stretch for you, he can tell by the way your mouth forms an O shape.

He goes still for a moment – for your sake, but for his own, as well. He has to adjust to the warm tightness of your pussy before he trusts himself to go any deeper.

“I know, baby. Been a while for me too. Been waiting for you for a long time.”

He slates his lips over yours, kissing you messy and deep as he slowly sheaths himself inside you. He stills again once he’s buried to the hilt, and breaks the kiss to look down at you.

“You okay?” He murmurs. He props himself up on one forearm by your head, and brings his free hand to roll one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You give him another eager nod, and wrap your legs securely around his hips, hooking your ankles together just below his ass.

“Mm-hmm,” you sigh. “Need you to move now, Logan.”

With his cock throbbing inside you, he doesn’t make you tell him twice. His length drags along the soft, spongy interior of your walls as he pulls out and eases back in. He gives you a few languid, slow strokes to accommodate the newfound stretch before it's hard for him to hold back.

He gets lost in it all – in the wet, tight heat of your cunt, in the sounds that your bodies make as he repeatedly snaps into you, in every expression on your face and every noise that slips past your lips.

You snake your arms around his abdomen, your hands coming to rest on his lower back.

“H-how’s your back?” You stammer out as he continues to piston his hips forward.

“I've never been better,” Logan grunts, resting his sweat slicked forehead against yours.

It's the truth. He’s never felt better than he does right now, between your legs – even if he is feeling this in his back. He'll deal with any and all repercussions later, once he's felt you cum around his cock while you cry his name.

You smile up at him as if to say wanna bet?

You flatten your hands across his skin at the base of his spine, and he doesn’t have to be able to see it to know what you're doing. He's experienced the effects of your powers enough by now to recognize them instantly – the low vibration they emit and the immediate warmth that spreads throughout his body.

“Gonna make me cum, honey,” he warns you. “Feels too good.” He feels your walls constrict around him when he calls you honey.

“Kiss me and I’ll cum with you,” you tell him in a breathy voice that he could listen to talk in all fucking night.

He kisses you again, this time more hurried than anytime before as he chases both of your releases. He spills into you with a deep groan as your cunt spasms around him. You moan his name into his mouth until he stills inside you, the last ropes of his cum filling you up.

He isn’t sure how long the two of you stay like that – with him still tucked inside you, laying pressed against you with his face nuzzling the crook of your neck. You trail your fingers up and down his spine, the sensation the only thing grounding him to reality in his post orgasm haze.

Finally, he pulls back enough to look down at you.

“Stay here,” he says earnestly. “Stay with me. Don't go back to Colorado. One day, we’ll go anywhere you want to. Just the two of us. But right now, please stay—”

“Logan,” you shush him gently. “I wasn’t planning on going back to Colorado. Or anywhere without you.”

He exhales, and kisses you on the forehead before finally pulling out of you and plopping down beside you. He tucks you between his chest and his arm, your head resting just above his heart.

“You know, this new bed of yours is a whole lot comfier than mine,” he comments casually.

“Hmm,” you hum and tilt your head to look up at him. “You should probably sleep here tonight. For your back, of course.”

He laughs, sleep threatening to overtake him at any second. He presses a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“I'm not going anywhere without you, honey.”

••••••

some of my other logan works

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

by the end of the night - worst variant logan has nightmares and mutant reader with emotional regulation abilities helps him sleep better

claw kink drabble

thank you so much for reading 🫶🏻

2K notes · View notes

allywthsr · 6 months ago

Text

PREGNANCY JOURNEY | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and your pregnancy journey

wordcount: 3.9k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy and it’s symptoms

notes: this is going to be a series! Look forward to the rest 🤓

It all happened without planning, Lando always said he wanted to become a dad when he retired and had more time for his child and you.

But the best things happen when you’re not expecting them, at least that’s what his mother always says.

It all started with you feeling unwell for your usual walk at the docks, headaches, nausea, stomach pains and sore boobs were part of your daily life. At first you put them off as classic period symptoms, since that was nearing, but you never would’ve classed them as pregnancy symptoms.

Lando was being as caring as he could’ve been, bringing you hot water bottles, painkillers and cuddling you all the time. And when you flew to Australia, for the GP, you waited for your period to come, but it didn’t. You flew with Max Verstappen, Kelly and P in Max’s private plane, thankfully. While cramping in the seat next to Lando, he rubbed your back, placed his hand on your lower stomach and kissing your hair repeatedly. He wished to take that pain away from you, but he couldn’t do anything else than watch and be there for you, whispering sweet nothing in your ear, hoping to distract you from the nausea and stomach pains.

And when you missed the practices on Friday, because you couldn’t keep your food inside of you, emptying your guts out in the toilet, that’s when Lando actually became worried. You weren’t even up for sex, and that was never a problem, Lando just had to blink and you were ready to jump his bones, and you did, usually.

Your period was two days late already, and that got you worried too, when calling your best friend and telling her about your symptoms, she waisted no time in telling you, that you should take a pregnancy test.

You laughed at her and told her to stop messing with you, you couldn’t be pregnant, Lando and you used protection all the time, when she insisted on you doing a test, you got worried she might actually be true, but you didn’t wanted to do it alone, you couldn’t.

So when you were hanging over the toilet when Lando returned, he decided that you needed to see a doctor, with his phone already out, checking for the next doctors office, you called out for him to come into the bathroom.

“Y/N, you need to see a doctor, this is not normal.“

“Yes, Lando, it’s normal.“

“No, Y/N.“

“I think I’m pregnant, Lando.“

“You… you’re… what?“

“I think pregnant“, when he didn’t react and only looked at you in shook, your eyes started to fill up with tears, “And you’re not happy about that?“

He slowly came back, “No, baby, just shocked, I… did you take a test?“

“No, I wanted to wait for you, and take it with you, can you run to the shops and get me like three? Just to make sure.“

He nodded, “I love you, I’ll get them, you stay here and don’t worry too much, we got this, okay?“, and quickly he changed out of his McLaren gear, in a neutral hoodie, a cap that hid his curls and sunglasses that covered his green eyes. With several kisses on your lips, on your face and a small caress on your lower tummy, he said goodbye and ran out.

You exhaled loudly and paced around the suite, checking Lando’s location every two minutes. Butterflies were flying in your stomach, you were nervous, its not like anything would change between you and Lando, but still your life’s would change rapidly, you wouldn’t be able to follow Lando to every race, sure you could still work for Quadrant, and do your normal email work, but you wouldn’t be able to come to every shoot.

But life could also be more beautiful, playing with your little love until Lando comes home and he or she will squeal until they’re in Lando’s arms. Taking them to a race and sitting them in Lando’s car, or Lando would stream and his son or daughter would steal the spotlight.

But before you could think about any of that, the test had to be positive. Maybe it was just pre period symptoms with a stomach bug, and all of this was something you and Lando would laugh about, when laying in bed later, but you needed to know now. And Lando was still running around in the store a few blocks away from the hotel.

Finally the door unlocked and a panting Lando came through the door.

“Did you run up here?“

“Of course, it’s not every day that your missus tells you she could be pregnant.“

You chuckled and grabbed the bag from Lando’s hands, you looked inside it and found five pregnancy tests, as well as some chocolate, other treats and multiple things to help you with nausea, headaches and stomach pains.

“Did you buy the whole store?“

“I wanted you to feel better, pregnant or not.“

“Shit Lando, what are we gonna do if I’m pregnant?“, you started to panic again, this time Lando was there with you and hugged you before it would get worse.

“We’re going to buy a changing table, and clothes, and diapers, and the cutest little stuffies, and you’re going to be the best mother ever. If you’re actually pregnant, then we’ll deal with that, I love you so much, that won’t change anything. Let’s just take a test, and then we can worry, okay?“

You nodded and he pulled you to the bathroom, “Are you going to stay here while I pee?“

“Yes? If we’re doing this, we’re doing this together.“

“But can you at least shut up? I need to concentrate“, he nodded and sat on the bathtub, waiting for you to do something.

You pulled out a pregnancy test and quickly read through the instructions on the box, you held the stick under yourself and did what you had to do. With Lando watching you, it was more funny than serious and you two couldn’t hold back the laughter, the whole situation was bizarre, you never thought you would be doing this without planning it.

You placed the stick on the sink and set a timer for five minutes, now you wandered around the bathroom, nor Lando and you said a thing, all that was heard was heavy breathing.The minutes felt like hours, and when your alarm finally rang, you both jolted at the sound, scaring you. Now it was clear if you would be drinking champagne or juice to celebrate, both results would be fine, you and Lando would get through everything, if you had each other.

You grabbed the test and looked at Lando, he held your hand and squeezed it tight, ”We got this.“

With one last breath, you turned over the stick and read the letters, with a gasp you turned around to Lando snd showed him the test.

PREGNANT

You two didn’t know how to react, the feelings were switching between happiness and shock, sadness and confusion. But before anything else could happen, Lando wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. Tears slipped from Lando’s and your eyes, it was the shock. Lando and you had been together for a little over five years, it wasn’t unusual for couples to become pregnant, but Lando and you had such a busy life, that you didn’t know if a baby would fit in there.

With tears in his eyes, Lando held your face in his hands, and wiped away the wet stains on your cheeks, smiling at you.

“I love you, okay. We’re going to be the hottest parents there are, you’ll be a milf. Nothing will change, I’ll love you just as much as I love you right now. Forever.“

“Everything will change, Lan. We’ll have a baby with us, a breathing human that will rely on us, we can’t just go on random trips anymore, we can’t spend all day in bed anymore, we certainly can’t have sex all over the apartment anymore.“

“But Y/N, this is a beautiful thing, we can still go on trips, we’ll just have to pack an extra bag and hold small hands when the plane takes off, the baby can lay in bed with us all day, and I’ll still fuck you in the kitchen when the afternoon nap is happening.“

You chuckled and pressed your lips on his’, one of his hands found its way back to your lower stomach and rubbed small circles on where the baby was growing.

“I need chocolate.“

“Luckily I bought some at the store, pregnant or not, you always crave chocolate“, with a chuckle he kissed your forehead, “Lets lay down on the bed, okay? It was a hectic day.“

You nodded and he led you to the bed, with his head resting on your stomach, you combed your fingers through his curls, enjoying the silence between you two. In just nine months, all that would be over and a small creature would be filling the silence, that thought got you a little excited, you couldn’t wait for the future.

“When do you think it was conceived?“

“Well, what does the pregnancy test say?“

“It said two weeks.“

“Before we left for Saudi Arabia then.“

“But how? I always forced you to wear a condom.“

“Remember that morning where we were tired and horny? I think we forgot, I did try to pull out but I think that didn’t work.“

You sighed and kept combing through his hair.

The next day was weird, you felt better and only had to throw up once in the morning, so you were walking next to Lando through the paddock. No one knew your secret, and yet, Lando was gliding over the concrete, he wanted to tell everyone, clearly happy about the news, you both were. You both were glowing and happier than ever, people were laughing and saying that the night must’ve been a good one, but they didn’t know that all you did last night was, talking about the future and how to tell your family and friends.

Knowing you were expanding your little family, while no one knew about it, made the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults, you had to slap Lando’s hands away from your stomach, every now and then, too scared someone would catch you. You wanted it to be a secret for now, telling your family and friends, as soon as you figured out how. It should be special and memorable, you couldn’t just get them all together and tell them ‘We’re pregnant, by the way.’

When you traveled back home after Australia, you immediately booked an appointment at your gynecologist, making sure Lando could come with you, as he requested. Lando was nervous when you two climbed the stairs to the doctors office, holding your hand tightly. Due to Lando’s and your ‘celebrity’ status, you could immediately go into the room where you would meet the doctor. And she came in quickly after you settled on the mattress, Lando right next to you. She did an ultrasound, and found the baby, seeing that all was well, and healthy so far. She advised you to take it slow and not do everything at once, you could still do your normal routine, but not stress too much about things, and Lando took that seriously. When you were back at the flat, he bent down and opened your shoe laces, removing your feet from the shoes, bringing you water all the time, making sure you always had some snacks and you were comfortable. It was cute at first, always having someone around you and someone to make sure you were alright, but it got annoying after three days, you were surprised you’re allowed to go the toilet alone.

The next races until you were finally home for a bit longer, were hectic, you wanted to rest, but due to constant traveling, you couldn’t, and not joining Lando would only be more stressful for you, what if he crashes and you weren’t there? When the Monaco GP came, you could fully breathe, you knew the city, you could sleep in your own apartment, cook whatever whenever you wanted, but that also meant that Lando could live out his protective side. He wanted you to stay home and watch the practices from the window, and arguing was useless, he had his opinion and there was no changing that. It was also when you first started showing, on the media day for the Monaco GP, you were laying in bed with Lando and you two just woke up, his hand went from touching your face, to your boobs to your stomach, when he gasped and sat up, while pulling your sleeping T-shirt up, so it rested underneath your boobs. With a worried “What?“, you screamed at him, thinking he might saw something bad.

“You have a bumb!“

“Really?“

You looked at your belly and indeed saw your tummy being a bit bigger than the night before, while you knew that it wasn’t the baby that was making your stomach looking bigger, but more like your uterus, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment for him. The rest of the morning was spent in bed, with Lando kissing your belly and cuddling until he really had to go. You put on a more summer like dress and hoped no one would saw the slight bulge in your stomach.

But on Saturday, when the whole Norris and Y/L/N family was gathered in the city, it was time to reveal your pregnancy, on Sunday you wanted to tell the close team.

It was magical, everyone acted just like you hoped, a lot of tears were shed and hugs were exchanged, especially the team at McLaren couldn’t be happier, they tried to be the tough boys, but you saw some wet eyes when they all hugged you.

From now on it was easier, you could tell your family updates about the baby every day, in the garage everyone kept an eye out for you and handled you with extra care, offering you a seat or water every second of the day.

With each day, your tummy started growing more, and after a few weeks it was more than obvious that the belly wasn’t from eating too much. Your whole body was growing, especially the boobs, which made Lando really happy, he couldn’t stop looking at them every day, but it also made things very obvious for the fans something happened. You didn’t post on social media anymore, and you barely came with Lando to races, and if you did you wore huge sweatshirts to cover your belly and boobs up. When you crossed the twenty week mark, there was no denying that a baby was growing inside of you. After finding out the gender, you made a post on instagram. You felt good and didn’t want to be stuck in your apartment anymore, you needed to join your boyfriend at his races again.

The freedom you felt once you could go outside in normal clothes, was amazing, and the people were swooning over you. You were glowing, and with that bump of yours, Lando couldn’t keep his hands of off you, always touching you in some kind of way, either on your belly, or at least a hand always on your back, to protect you from straying to far away from him, his words.

There wasn’t a day where you two wouldn’t be cuddling, either he was laying with his head on your belly, or talking to the baby, or kissing your belly, or caressing it. He loved his child already so much, he was overwhelmed sometimes from the love he felt. He always thought he couldn’t love someone more than you, or his family, but the way he felt the need to protect his unborn child already, sometimes he just wanted to burst.

But for now all he got to protect, was you. He did whatever he could so you were save, when in crowds, he would hold your hands and shield you from the people as best as you could. He fell in love with you more every day, seeing you growing your child and doing whatever it takes to make you and your baby happy, if that meant he needed to run to the shops at three AM for certain chocolate, he did that. No matter how disgusting your eating behavior was, he would always get you what you wished for, he even almost missed a practice because he ran out quickly before the start to get you crisp you desperately needed.

The first kick was special, Lando always made fun of instagram videos, where the parents freak out over some belly movements, but when you were in the kitchen, cooking yourself pasta, Lando came and hugged you from behind, caressing your growing stomach and kissing your neck, it was his new favorite thing to do. While talking to you about some changes they made on the car, you two gasped at the same time, looking down to where Lando’s hands lay, you felt something kick from inside of you.

“The baby kicked, Y/N!“

You nodded your head and turned around in his embrace, kissing your boyfriend on his lips.

“It’s actually alive in there, baby. Can you believe it? In eighteen weeks we have a breathing human being.“

You wiped his cheeks with your thumbs, tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, smiling up at him you repeatedly pressed your lips on his’.

This memory sure would be one you two wouldn’t forget.

Lando was the happiest when he was with you, he always thought the happiest he can be was in his car, driving around in full speed and being on the podium after, seeing you in the crowd cheering for him, but now, there wasn’t something he wanted more all day than lay on your lap, talking and feeling the baby, while you’re brushing through his curls with your fingers.

He loved to take pictures of you when you’re in underwear, to document the growth of your belly, but also because he wanted to take pictures of you in underwear, he never thought you could look even sexier, but to him, you did. So he looked forward to seeing you change your clothes every morning and evening, shamelessly looking at your nakedness every time.

But it was fine, your sex drive was through the roof sometimes, when Lando saw you naked, he got horny, and you were too. It wasn’t unusual that Lando and you would disappear during a race weekend for a few minutes, you needed him, whether he would go down on you or give you the real thing.

But pregnancy wasn’t perfect, there were a lot of downsides to it. Everything hurt, your back, your feet, your head, your boobs and even your legs. Lando tried and eased your pain whenever he could by massaging every body part, but he couldn’t fully remove it. Foot massages were on the daily agenda, and when he was lucky, he massaged your boobs, which always lead to you leaking milk and Lando would get horny after seeing your big boobs on display.

But when you saw this viral trend on TikTok, where the boyfriends would lift their girlfriends stomachs, you had to try it out, and when Lando stood behind you, hands under your big belly and lifted it, you let out the biggest moans Lando ever heard. Not having to carry the weight of the baby, relieved the tension of your back and you could breathe again. Lando was shocked how heavy the baby actually was, sure he heard it every time at the gynecologist, but feeling it was a different thing. Everyday Lando did that lifting thing for at least twice a day, and it were the best minutes during the day.

After week thirty you weren’t able to put your own socks on and putting on your shoes was also impossible, just as shaving in the shower, luckily you had a supportive boyfriend who did all these things for you, when he was around. He shaved your legs and private parts for you, and he found it exhausting, every time he would say that he didn’t know how women could do this every now and then.

Certain smells made you almost puke, yesterday your head was already over the toilet when you smelled bell pepper, it drove you crazy.

Traveling also got harder, you got cleared by your doctor before every race, but still, it was exhausting. The long plane rides, the long car rides and the sitting in the garage were tiring, you tried to support Lando from the garage, but for some practice sessions you stayed at the hotel, watching it on your laptop and laying in bed. You even thought about staying home, but you knew that would only stress you more, at home you couldn’t always be there for Lando when he needed you, and you needed him.

The fans were the sweetest too, giving you two gifts for the baby, drawings, clothings, accessories, and many more things. Your favorite piece so far was the handmade baby McLaren suit, so the baby and Lando could match, you couldn’t wait to see these two together.

The room was done by mostly Lando, but you bought most of the furniture and accessories, Lando put them all together. The walls were painted in a light blue and the room was cloud themed, there were clouds painted on the wall, clouds hung from the ceiling and cloud pillows were placed everywhere. You two couldn’t wait for your little love to arrive.

The last GP was hard for you, you were thirty-seven weeks pregnant and couldn’t really move, your stomach was huge and standing for more than five minutes was not possible. Lando didn’t want you to come, and you almost didn’t, but you thought about going in labor earlier than expected and not having Lando by your side, and that freaked you more out than the thought of delivering your baby in a different country with Lando. So you waddled around the paddock, with Lando’s hand in yours you made your way to the hospitality, feeling better when you could finally sit down again.

You sat in the garage and watched the race, and when it ended, you were more than happy that Lando was fine and healthy, going for dinner with his family after the season officially ended. And almost immediately after you were back at the hotel, you packed your things and flew back to your Monaco home, and when you arrived, you could enjoy the last few weeks of pregnancy. The nesting was driving Lando crazy, everything had to be perfect, you were washing the last few clothes for your baby, filling the drawers with diapers and whatever the internet, books and especially yours and Lando’s mum told you, you needed. In general your families were the biggest help, they told you were to start with shopping for the baby, what you actually needed and what you didn’t.

Christmas time came around, your apartment was decked with decorations and the smell of cookies was everywhere and on the eleventh of December, you woke up because of sharp pains in your lower stomach. At first you thought these were normal stomach pains or Braxton hicks, preparing you for the birth, you had them quite frequently now, but when you started counting them and they came on more often than normal you shook Lando awake. And before you knew it, Lando drove you two to the hospital, where the next chapter of your life began.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #dad!lando norris #lando x you #pregnancy

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akutasoda · 5 months ago

Text

'do you think that this, us, ever could be something more'

synopsis - you both have painfully obvious feelings for eachother but both of you are hesitant to take that step until they decide to brave their feelings and confess in their own way

includes - dr ratio, argenti, jiaoqiu, aventurine

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst (mainly aventurine), pining, wc - 2.2k

a/n: guys i promise im working on requests :))

dr ratio ★↷

ratio detested you, namely the way you constantly refuted his words and theses. nonetheless, he adored nothing more than seeing you everyday - he'd say you were the one competent mind to converse with in an average day but you both knew deep down that it was purely because you enjoyed each other's company.

your friendship with the doctor was one of the most unlikely, others at the intelligentsia guild couldn't imagine anyone developing more than a simple coworker relationship with ratio. to some, even maintaining something as simple as a coworker relation was an arduous task.

however, you never saw the issue. ratio was a dear friend, it's merely the fact that he naturally gave off a rather off-putting first impression thanks to his slightly gloomy and eccentric nature. deep down he still retained these qualities but he could be a lot more caring in his own way.

although, for all his intellect, ratio struggled to maintain a grasp on his own emotional intelligence. a fact that could maybe be said for you as well, although compared to ratio you simply didn't know how to, or even if you should bring up the undoubtedly growing feelings for the doctor.

ratio knew what he was feeling, simply a release of oxytocin that caused those fuzzy feelings when he was around you. however he couldn't quite piece together the idea of you being behind those feelings, why your friendship wasn't enough, longing for something more than what you two currently had.

he'd never confide in anyone about his dilemma - he didn't need unwanted outsiders budging in on his personal issues. although, ever since he started looking for solutions, he started noticing signs that had previously gone unnoticed. namely how you acted around him.

a major concern between two crushes is the possibility of unrequited feelings. veritas would prefer to avoid such mistakes and push any potential feelings away if that was the case. so he often dwelled on the possibility of such. but it appeared that all the signs he misconstrued as friendly gestures and behaviour from you, could in fact be taken as more romantic.

he observed more as he had to be one hundred percent and in his quest, his mind slowly became more aware of his own feelings and why they only seemed to blossom more around you. ratio hated it. his feelings were like a gnawing feeling, constantly playing on his brain and it got to the point where he couldn't focus on his research - he would blame you, but he blamed himself more.

veritas knew he had to do something about it. and so he did. ratio was never one to beat around the bush, and so he took a direct approach to his confession - as soon as he could, he sought you out and told you about his feelings. relief washed over the doctor's unknowingly tense form when you told him about reciprocating such feelings.

you couldn't help but note his slight embarrassment afterwards, made evident by the heavy blushing which he quickly covered up by wearing his plaster head.

argenti ★↷

the encounter between the two of you among the cosmos was one of the more fortunate ones. a fleeting moment within the universe that set a start for the tale of a friendship that would last practically forever.

in his opinion, meeting you on his journey felt like a blessing from idrila themselves. in argenti’s eye's you were practically breathtaking in any way, everything about you from your mere presence to your voice to your appearance. it was only natural that he wanted to know more about someone such as yourself - and he was forever grateful he indulged his curiosity.

a blossoming friendship was easily formed between the two of you, one that had solid foundations to continue headstrong, even becoming something more should that be the path you took together. for all his charms, argenti made a true friend - someone that was always there for you in your corner, supported you, a pure soul that listened intently, someone that cared.

and for someone that seeked the aeon of beauty, it was hard for him to miss seeing the beauty of which were his feelings. flurries of emotion that could hold a powerful grip on someone's heart and actions if left unchecked and untended to. so as soon as those signs of warmth and calmness appeared strongly around you, argenti knew what it was.

that infatuation and pure admiration for you could only suggest that he subconsciously longed for something more than a friendship. in truth, argenti was devoted to idrila. he found beauty in practically everything, followed idrila’s teachings diligently and so he never truly imagined having someone else in his life that meant more to him than an aeon he devoted his life to.

but it couldn't be ignored, those feelings couldn't be left to simmer in the back of his mind as deep down he knew he wasn't content to sit by and keep the current relationship with you - although if that was what you wished, he would gladly sacrifice his own feelings just for you. however argenti was one to take risks.

a direct approach to voice the beauty of his feelings for you, should you decline them then so be it, but he wouldn't know until he tried. comoared to his usual gestures which could often be described as “grand” or “charasmatic”, a confession from him would be noticeably more gentle and intimate.

a moment of pure safety, he'd waste no time in reciting to you exactly what he wanted to say with a smile of lovestruck fondness as he presented you with a rose, all the thorns layed upon it's stem signalling the dedication and sacrifices he'd be willing to make for you - it's petals in full bloom.

jiaoqiu ★↷

being friends with jiaoqiu was never easy, although nobody exactly said it was easy. the pink foxian had the tendency to be rather cunning, mischievous even, and these traits only seemed to double when you actually got closer to him.

however, some could argue that eventually one would get used to jiaoqiu and everything he'd do or say - to an extent, they wouldn't be wrong but it still never made it any easier on most days. (un)fortunately you still put up with him as he was still a dear friend in the end.

jiaoqiu did have people he acquainted with or even people he was friendly with but ultimately he still had very few he would truly refer to as friends. he spent most of his time serving his dedication to helping the merlins claw and that was mainly his sole priority, jiaoqiu was determined to treat her.

so naturally, those closest to him did end up being those close to feixiao in the first place. yet he still found time to spend with those he held dearest, which was either you or moze and feixiao.

however, it didn't go unnoticed to either you or jiaoqiu that there was something there. something that couldn't be described as a simple friendly relationship, yet neither of you addressed it and continued on with your lives as if that feeling wasn't there in the slightest.

jiaoqiu knew very well that he longed for something more with you. you were the only person which drew out these warm feelings from him that had been killed during his time in the field and yet you had a way of bringing them back to him.but he simply couldn't cime to terms with it.

he'd withdraw from practicing medicine once before due to a broken heart, and deep down a part of him feared that you would make that a second time. so he tried to drown away those fuzzy feelings and tell himself over and over that you two were simply just friends, nothing more despite the clear longing urge to be that made him feel an immense sadness at the idea of never being something more.

and so jiaoqiu was hesitant. he wasn't dumb and he knew exactly how he felt for you, and he even could pick up on the way that you felt the same but somewhere in his mind he'd convinced himself that it was simply his own wishful thinking, not your true feelings. however, his hesitancy couldn't last much longer as he cursed you for affecting his work.

he'd be more of a fool to continue on without coming to grips with his blaringly obvious feelings for you, he knew it would eventually eat him from the inside out. and so jiaoqiu would begrudgingly find a way to confess, still letting that nagging fear affect just how he'd do so.

he'd catch you in the morning, handing you a personal meal for lunch like he occasionally did when he had free time in the morning. except this time, your gaze would immediately notice the small note tucked away within, one that you wasted no time in reading it's contents.

a part of him regretted giving you a note as the anticipation weighed heavy upon his mind, but otherwise he knew his nerves would've got the best of him. jiaoqiu specified in the note about his feelings, and how if you were to reciprocate them then you should come find him. this way he could avoid the painful rejection if it so came to that. until then, he waited in anticipation, still fearing your answer.

aventurine ★↷

he had coworkers, he had business partners who lways got the short end of the straw in a deal with him, and he had acquaintances. someone could even say they were the bare minimum for being a good use as stoneheart for the IPC. however, he did have some people that were closer than that, namely veritas and you.

and to reach that level with him was no easy feat. the man known as aventurine had put up many walls, facade after facade all in order to keep what little of himself left safe. the small parts of him left untouched by experiences that were painfully his and yet he could fool himself into believing that they belonged to an identity that no longer existed.

sometimes ‘aventurine’ didn't feel like him. it wasn't. if anything it was another defense that the past identity had let be forced upon him to help scramble for something good in his life. for someone blessed with luck, it never felt like it.

but his luck finally brought him something pure, something that finally felt like luck. and that was meeting you. a light that shined ever so brightly in his life despite all else, evoking feelings from him that he swore he buried when he bid goodbye to his past self. yet you dredged them from the darkest depths of himself, the parts that he feared and constantly kept hidden from himself.

however, old habits die hard. the very moment aventurine became conscious of what had bubled to the surface of his facade, he desperately tries to push them away. those warm, fuzzy feelings that he felt around you meant only weakness to him - something that you could choose to exploit.

his feelings were merely a chip. a means to use and manipulate at his disposal. they got in the way majority of the time, they could reveal ones desires or wants unknowingly and that never led to anything prosperous - especially in a high stakes gamble. but they were a chip for him and him only.

nevertheless, how could he possibly ignore them any longer when it seemed that his own brain was working against him. it made him feel all the more vulnerable, especially because of the idea of him confronting them just to have his heart painfully stomped upon and have his feelings left to painfully mull over into bitter sadness and reject.

fortunately, aventurine was quite the adept one at reading other people - a skill he'd learnt very quickly. so the hopeful part of him observed how you acted around him, picking up on the obvious signs that he previously misconstrued as friendly or simply ignored. eventually, he decided that the gnawing feeling needed to be sorted.

and so aventurine decided it was best to finally let down those final walls and comfess. because he was putting himself in a vulnerable position, he would get straight to the point. people may guess that he would go all out for a confession but that would be the last thing he'd do.

admittedly he let a small part of his fear get the best of him but he would still build up the courage to request to see you and confess face to face. he truly didn't know what he would do if you turned him down but he'd figure that out if it happened. it wouldn't go unnoticed by you that he held one hand behind his back at all times during his confession - the only time in ages that he'd been completely honest with his feelings to someone he trusted.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader #argenti x reader #jiaoqiu x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr dr ratio #hsr argenti #hsr jiaoqiu #hsr aventurine

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txrully · 27 days ago

Note

hii can I request blue lock boys comforting their s/o thats on her period? (if your uncomfy w this than jst ignore it)

Thank you! 💕💕

YOU'RE MY COMFORT!

·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they comfort their s/o who's on her period

·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness

·˚ ༘ ꒱ warning fem!reader implied , lowercase intended

·˚ ༘ ꒱ a/n eeeek i took a kinda long hiatus after exams so sorry this was late- TT

·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi

isagi would be so sweettttt. like he’s 100% the type to google how to make your girlfriend feel better on her period and then go overboard. he shows up at your door with snacks, a hot water bottle, and a look of absolute determination.

“babe, i got chocolate, tea, and this random teddy bear i found. will that help??”

he also tries to distract you with soccer highlights and ends up ranting about strategy while you just cuddle into him. lwk adorable.

"yoichi, i don’t need all this, i’m fine—"

"nope. it’s my job to make sure you’re 100% okay!"

"…you’re too much."

"too much in love with you? absolutely."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru

bachira treats your period like it’s an adventure. he calls it “battle week” and declares himself your knight in shining armor. he’s running around like a maniac, making you laugh so hard you forget the pain.

he also makes you random art to cheer you up. one time, he drew a stick figure comic of you fighting a “period dragon” with a sword made of chocolate. you almost cried laughing.

"meguru, what is this??"

"you slaying your period. literally."

"you’re so dumb… but i love it."

"mission accomplished!!!!! >:D "

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin

rin is… awkward. but he triessss. when you first tell him, he just blinks and goes, "okay. what do you need?" and when you say “nothing,” he goes into silent problem-solving mode.

he might not say much, but he’ll keep you company, bring you your favorite drinks, and make sure you’re comfortable. he’s like a walking checklist. it’s so sweet how seriously he takes it.

"rin, you don’t have to—"

"you said you have a headache, so i’m staying until it stops."

"you’re so stubborn-"

"you’re welcome."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro

nagi is… so chill. you tell him you’re on your period, and he’s like, "oh. okay. do you wanna nap?" because in his mind, that fixes everything.

but the second you actually need something? he’s ( surprisingly ) up and moving faster than you thought possible. he’ll even let you steal his hoodie and hog all the blankets.

"sei, can you pass me the—"

"already got it. now come back to bed."

"why are you so good at this???"

"because i'm used to this by now."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo

reo treats it like a high-stakes situation. he buys you EVERYTHING—snacks, heating pads, your favorite drinks, and even a blanket that looks like a giant burrito.

“what else do you need? should i call a doctor? a masseuse? build you a pillow fort?”

he’s over the top ( *cough* more than usual *cough* ), but it’s so sweet you can’t even be mad.

"reo, you don’t need to do all this—"

"yes, i do. you’re in pain, and i don’t like it."

"you’re insane."

"insanely in love with you, yep."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma

chigiri is so calm and collected about it. he’s like, “i got this.” he makes you tea, rubs your back, and lets you vent about how annoying it all is.

he also takes you on peaceful walks or sits with you by the window, brushing your hair and talking about random things to keep your mind off the cramps. it’s giving romance movie vibes.

"hyoma, you’re like… weirdly good at this."

"i have a sister. i’ve trained for this moment."

"oh my god, of course you have."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo

hiori is the gentlest bean. he’s like, “do you need anything? want me to get you soup? should we watch your favorite movie?” he’s so soft and accommodating, it’s almost ridiculous.

he also writes you little notes to cheer you up, like: “you’re stronger than cramps 💪 i believe in you!!”

"hiori, this note is so cheesy—"

"but did it make you smile?"

"…yeah, it did."

"then it worked. :D "

·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei

shidou is chaotic as ever, but surprisingly… thoughtful? he shows up with junk food, a heating pad, and an attitude like, “let’s beat this period’s ass together.”

he’s also the type to jokingly pick a fight with your u t e r u s ( you read that right ), yelling things like: “how dare you hurt my girl?! square up, you coward!” it’s dumb, but it works.

"ryu, stop yelling at my uterus—"

"not until it apologizes."

"you’re so stupid."

"but you’re laughing, so i win."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae

sae is quietly attentive. he doesn’t say much, but he notices everything—like the way you hold your stomach or wince when you move. suddenly, you’ve got a hot water bottle and your favorite drink in your hand, no explanation needed.

he’ll sit with you in comfortable silence, scrolling on his phone until you’re ready to talk. it’s subtle, but you feel so cared for.

"sae, you didn’t have to get all this—"

"you’re in pain. of course i did."

"…thanks."

"don’t mention it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser

kaiser is so dramatic about it. the second you tell him, he’s like, “mein gott, my poor love! what can i do?!” he acts like you're about to be taken from him.

but honestly? he’s surprisingly good at making you laugh and keeping your spirits up. he’ll even let you boss him around for the day.

"michael, stop being so dramatic—"

"i can’t help it! your pain is my pain!"

"you’re ridiculous."

"and you love me for it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness

ness is the sweetest little bean. he immediately offers to make you tea and snuggle on the couch with your favorite blanket. he’s like a human heater—so warm and comforting.

he also sends you texts like, “you’re doing amazing, sweetheart 💖 cramps don’t stand a chance against you!” pure angel.

"ness, you’re being so extra—"

"only because you deserve it!"

"you’re such a dork."

"your dork 🥰."

copy/translate/plagiarize/repost my works in any way and i will be under your bed 🥰

likes + reblogs always appreciated <3

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gghostwriter · 3 months ago

Text

A Series of Happenstance

Spencer Reid x House!Daughter!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer loathed to see you and the one time he pleaded to Trope:Angst; think post Tobias Spencer Reid w.c: 5.2k Disclaimer: I am no way a medical personnel, least of all a psychiatrist so there will be medical inaccuracies A/N: this is part one of my house!daughter series and it’s angst, babes. Spencer is just mean and lashing out here which is totally understandable. It also took a while since writing such heavy pieces of fiction takes a toll on me but I hope, especially to the ones who were excited for this series, love it still. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The first meeting

Spencer didn’t want to be here—here being in this cream colored, four cornered room, facing off the ultimate nemesis of profiler. Not an unsolvable case, not an unsub, but rather a psychiatrist contracted by the FBI for psych evaluation.

He was fine, he insisted to Hotch. He can compartmentalize well, he rationalized to Gideon. He just needed rest and the comfort of his own bed, he stated to the whole team. But protocols were protocols and his unit chief was a stickler to rules especially when it involved the care for his team.

That was how he found himself on a Tuesday afternoon, sitting in silence and watching the ticking of the clock as if it was the most interesting piece of art there was.

The tension was stifling. Spencer could almost see it tainting his vision red. Biting the insides of his cheek, he wanted to keep everything in.

No, he needed to.

He knew he was being rude, petulant even but for once, he didn’t have it in him to care. He didn’t know you. You were a complete stranger being paid by the government to report back any findings that could keep him out of the field. It wasn’t fair. You were just accepting the call of duty but you bore the brunt of his ire and hostile gaze.

In the normal setting, he would have found you intriguing. Your office colored in taupe—cold, distant, and linked to the desire to escape from the world but in the farthest side of the room was a shelf littered with books and small knick knacks that seemed to be collected over the years rather than curated to match the professional setting. The books ranged from published psychology dissertations, medical teaching materials, and collections of essays from well-revered and obscure writers.

You were dressed in black and white, standard for your importance, but your nails were painted in a pale pink color—close to looking natural but not quite. And lastly, your looks.

You were beautiful, don’t get him wrong, he may not have the same experiences as Morgan did with the opposite sex but he knows a beautiful attractive woman when he sees one. No, it wasn’t that, it was how young you looked—almost or maybe even sharing the same age as him.

A genius, then.

A prodigy in your own field just like him.

“Doctor Reid,” the low timber of your voice bringing him out of his musings. It sent a shiver down his spine when he first heard you speak. A reaction that he catalogued in his mind as a mystery to be revisited later on.

He subtly tilted his head to the side, an indication that you had his attention albeit reluctantly.

“Anything you say in this room is strictly confidential,” you gestured with your hand. “No file or notes will be passed to your unit chief or any personnels of the brass. I promise you.”

He scoffed, breaking his vow of silence. “That’s not a hundred percent true, Doctor. Lying to get your patient to talk can only get you so far.”

“I understand where you’re coming from but all I submit to the FBI is my conclusion if you’re fit to go back to work or not, patient-confidentiality still stands—” your delicate fingers feebly holding your pen. “Now, I sensed a little resentment. Is it coming from your self-loathing about having to choose a victim for Tobias Hankel or is it your displaced anger from separating with your team liaison, Agent Jareau?”

He glared at you. How dare you imply the seething anger from within him is directed at anyone but himself. “What? No, no, no. I’m not angry at anything or anyone! Maybe at you and this whole evaluation but never at JJ or—” he cut himself off.

“The suspect,” you continued on for him, jotting down notes on your black leather journal.

“The unsub. Unknown subject.” He corrected, second nature of him to do so. “We call them the unsub.”

You nodded, a lock of hair falling away from your bun. A distracting motion that momentarily rendered him speechless. “Alright. Are you angry at yourself and your decision to separate with Agent Jareau during the case?”

He scoffed but opted to stay silent. Spencer had already given too much of his emotion away by answering the earlier questions.

For any regular citizen, it may seem like the opposite but given the sound of you scribbling away on the pages of the notebook, you beg to differ.

You crossed your pant covered leg and stared into his eyes, a maneuver that could mean two things: 1) you were sizing him up, which was highly unlikely given the dynamics, regardless of his hostility or 2) you were trying to connect with him, a move backed by science that stated eye contact releases oxytocin—a bonding hormone.

A study he didn’t want to prove right at the moment.

“Do you perhaps feel remorse for the unsub?”

His left eye twitched. “Tobias Hankel.”

“Is there a reason behind why you’d prefer to call the unsub by name?” You further asked, having found a sore subject to poke and prod to elicit a reaction.

The answer was yes, of course. Tobias was just a victim as much as he, Spencer Reid, was—the unsub, in his eyes, was a victim of bad fate that resulted in fracturing his psyche but a shrink didn’t need to know that.

To be exact, the FBI didn’t need to know that he, an active and upstanding agent, felt remorse and guilt for not being able to save Tobias. Human emotion rarely had a place in bureaucracy and paperwork.

“How old are you?” Spencer nonchalantly inquired to throw you off his trail. “You look too young to be a Doctor contracted by the brass.”

You scribbled something again in your notebook before answering in a monotone voice as if your reply has been well rehearsed. “24, about to turn 25 and yes, I do look young. I graduated early due to my intelligence which I believe is the same case for you, Doctor—” you clasped your hands in front of you, leaning slightly forward. “—which brings us back to the topic, the anger inside of you, who is it directed to?”

His eyes shifted to the clock—5pm.

A small smile graced his face. The time was up.

“Well, I believe we’re done here, Doctor—” he proceeded to stand up, picking on an imaginary lint as he did so. “—I would say it’s been nice meeting you but that would be a lie you’d no doubt catch and analyze.”

Your lips pressed thinly together, imitating a smile but Spencer knew that move quite well—you were reining in any unsolicited and possibly inappropriate comment regarding his snappy behavior.

A small chuckle escaped his lips. If he, a profiler, considered you, a psychiatrist, his number one nemesis, there was no doubt you consider him the same.

As he was about to step out of the office, your slender fingers brandished a calling card.

“Here’s my number—” he gingerly took it as if it contained some unknown pathogen. “—and my door is always open when you’re ready to talk, Doctor Reid.”

He nodded once, a goodbye. “Doctor House.”

There was little doubt in Spencer’s mind that he’d never willingly stop by your office again but if he had been paying attention to your subtle patronizing words of farewell, he would have picked up that this encounter was far from over.

Especially when he found out on a busy Tuesday morning from Hotch that you had deemed him unfit to return back to the field—effectively barring him from the jet on its way to Idaho.

The second meeting

There was a series of rapid knocks on your office door.

As a psychiatrist with your own practice, it was highly unusual for clients to suddenly show up with no prior appointments or even a customary phone call.

It was a Tuesday morning and like clockwork, you’ve allotted the first half of the day in catching up with paperwork dealing with your office and evaluations for the FBI.

That gave you a pause, remembering a snipping agent who you deemed unfit for duty. Dr. Spencer Reid. The genius profiler who joined the ranks at the tender age of 22. A prodigy in his old field, just like you.

He was closed off, simmering with rage almost, and there was little doubt in your mind that he was the one behind the door, ceaselessly knocking. After all, when you sent in your evaluation directly to his unit chief, the stoic man’s face twitched with concern and maybe a little bit of annoyance in the paperwork it would entail.

“Come in,” you called out, hands clasping together on top of your desk. A perfect picture of professionalism.

The door swung open, revealing a tightly wounded Dr. Spencer Reid.

With a thick cardigan adorning on his body and a leather satchel draped over his shoulders to his front, he looked normal. But you knew better, his choice of outerwear represented a security blanket in the middle of September and his placement of satchel acted as a shield and its’ straps a stress ball. With just that one look you knew he wasn’t ready to back with his team.

“Dr. Reid, what can I do for you?” You asked, hand unclasping and indicating to the seat in front of you. “Please sit.”

Closing the door behind him, he shuffled closer to your desk but made no indication to sit down. “I’d rather stand, Dr. House, and I think you know why I’m here.”

A show of dominance. Right away, he wanted control the outcome of this conversation to his favor. It was textbook psychology, a taunt you wanted no part of.

A slight smile appeared on your face, one that could be translated as friendly for those open and condescending for those closed off. “I believe I don’t follow.”

“My evaluation, you made a mistake,” the left corner of his mouth lifting for a smirk. There was a vein visible on his temple, his anger and will to bottle it up manifesting physically.

You tilted your head to the side, unwavering in your gaze, hands clasped and index fingers tapping together. The pause and silence was a standard tactic to get a patient to break, similar to what law enforcement uses with suspects but results may vary especially when used on a seasoned profiler.

Right away, Spencer understood your tactic. “That won’t work. We use that in every case, I know the standard—” he looked around the room. “—should I lower the temperature too?”

You answered with silence. The agent in front of you now was no longer thinking clearly. His objective mind that would deem him fit to return for duty clouded with emotion, anger and something else.

His right hand touched above his left wrist. A subconscious move provoked by your unrelenting gaze. A move that gave away an important piece of information that his unit chief no doubt omitted in the reports.

Ah.

Tobias Hankel was a drug addict.

And in turn has subjected the agent in front of you to his vices.

You sighed. Suddenly the case no longer felt black and white, it was treading close to home as you remembered your father who’s abusing Vicodin in lieu of his leg pain. It was a sore spot for you—a clink in your armor.

“Sit, please,” you indicated to the chair in front of you again.

Spencer complied this time, having heard a change in your tone.

“Dr Reid,” you started. “I believe my evaluation of you is still correct—”

He opened his mouth to argue.

“—but, please let me finish, perhaps we can compromise. As a psychiatrist, it’s not in my practice to give in to my client’s demands but as you are not a regular client, I believe it would be beneficial for the both of us to reach an understanding.”

You walked towards the locked cabinet to your right. It was where you kept all medical equipments—including medicine for patients. Reaching back to the depths of the lower shelf, your hand brought out a non-descriptive black pouch from its hiding. You sat beside Spencer, effectively communicating that you are both on the same level.

“I will approve your return for duty as long as you come back for a couple of sessions, not FBI contracted, strictly confidential, and you—” handing him the zipped pouch before continuing on. “—get drug tested.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he knew that his unit chief and mentor kept the delicate nature of his case out of the bureau and wondered how you pieced everything together. He underestimated you, you realized. A mistake on his end.

“I’m a psychiatrist, I know the signs Dr. Reid, and besides, I’m a genius just like you,” you adjusted your posture, slightly leaning back.

Check.

He smiled, one that you could say no longer contained malice. It was instead filled with resignation and relief. “You’re right. I underestimated you, Dr. House.”

Standing up, you dusted imaginary lint from your black pencil skirt before extending your hand out for a handshake.

He hesitated before reaching over shaking it once. His hands were rough and calloused from frequent holding of his gun but felt oddly warm and soothing. It represented who he was in your eyes—prickly and rough around the edges but soft and good on the inside.

As he exited your office with a soft thud of the door behind him, you admitted to yourself that you took a huge gamble. Rather than a checkmate, all you did was check his king. You didn’t ask if he had built his own stash of drugs after the case was finished. It was a risk you were willing to take just to take a step closer in getting the agent to trust you. Baby steps were better than nothing. You could work with that.

There was still the drug test you could rely on. A black and white piece of paper that would tell the truth if done at the right time. After all, the most important teaching your father, the older Dr. House, has imparted on you was—

Everybody lies.

The third meeting

The bar at the corner Main Street on a Friday night was a rare place for you to be. The echoes of its pulsing music could be heard a couple of shops away, luring bodies than the space could ever handle like it were Pied Piper and the people—by extension, you, were the unsuspecting kids. The lights were colored orange, giving the area a tint of good times and bad decisions. The aged brick walls discolored in a multitude of shades and the decorative posters were aimlessly nailed to the wall. There was a section far from the bar that was filled with moving bodies—people letting loose and exhibiting what you’d call a mating dance for anyone interested and beside the bar were two dart boards, popular with the crowd, but had seen better days.

This wasn’t your usual scene as you excused your way to the bar tucked at the center space. It wasn’t due to snobbery, like what your friend Kyle once joked, it was preference.

The sticky floor beneath your sensible nude heels had you wishing that your feet were tucked in a soft blanket with mind numbing television playing in the background instead of navigating the throng of people holding their drink of choice and inhaling the musky scent of liquor and sweat.

“Haven’t seen you around here,” a tenor voice flirted from beside you.

Your eyebrow raised as you took in the source—a burly African-American with a buzzcut. There was something distinct about him that set him apart from the rest. It wasn’t his built or the way his grey shirt stretched to fit around his biceps. It also wasn’t the twinkle in his eye as he tried to entice you to flirt back. One of his hands drifted down to his waist and with his wide leg stance, you knew.

A cop. An off duty law enforcement officer.

You laughed. “Does that line usually work on women, especially from—” you paused for suspense. ”—a cop?”

“Okay,” the stranger chuckled. “Close, want to try again?”

A smile stretched your glossed pink lips. You were never one to back away from a challenge—it was one of the traits you inherited from the other Dr House.

“Well, if we’re basing it on where the bar is located nearby and my fifty percent guess from a while ago, I’d say you were a cop—maybe for a couple of years, before joining the FBI. Maybe counter terrorism—” the memory of Dr. Reid talking about his team found its way to the forefront of your mind. “—or by any chance, the BAU?”

He could no longer hide the surprise from his face. “Right, that’s right. What gave it away? Was it my ruggedly handsome looks or are you just a mind reader?”

You thanked the bartender before trying to find your way out of the surge of people behind you, clamoring to place their order. The stranger stretched out his muscular arms, guiding you away from the bar towards his booth.

“Just a mind reader,” you simplified—an action that came as second nature to you. In the past, when you would disclose your job as a psychiatrist, people would react in two ways. One, they’d get subconscious that you’d read into every body language they’d have, causing them to shy away or two, they’d become over-zealous and ask you to diagnose them all in good fun like it was some sort of magician’s trick.

A mop of light brown curly hair parked beside a long blonde hair caught your periphery. He had his back turned but it was a presence you’ve slowly started getting familiar with. It was Dr. Spencer Reid, out in the natural setting, a first.

Your eyes slowly widened as you realized where he was guiding you and who he might be.

“Huh,” you uttered under your breath before flashing a smile to the stranger beside you. “Are you by any chance, Derek Morgan?”

“Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out. How’d you do that, Ms. Mind Reader?”

A different timber of voice answered. “It’s because I told her—” a pair of hazel eyes turned to you, filled with accusation. “—Dr. House. Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“Dr. Reid, I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

He scoffed. “In a bar? Near my office? The statistics on seeing me here is actually surprisingly high.”

He was hostile, understandably so as here you were, a stranger, who knows his deepest, darkest secret mixing in with the otherwise innocent parties of his personal life. It was no harm, caused no click in your armor—he’d been cooperative as of the late within the confines of your office but seeing you beyond the four corners of your taupe walls threw him off the loop.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think I caught your name,” the blonde woman beside Spencer, flashed you a smile, hand stretching out for a handshake. “I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.”

You shook her hand. “Ah, it’s great to meet you, Agent Jareau.”

“So, how do you know Spence?”

You smiled, unsure on how to disclose your psychiatrist-patient relationship with someone he works with. You didn’t know how much his team members knew about his scheduled Saturday meetings with you or if they even knew at all what Dr. Reid was going through.

From the past appointments, you’ve categorized the agent as an anxious avoidant type—something geniuses who grew up in a non-secure household tend to share. Yourself, included.

Your eyes glanced at Spencer before drifting towards the table behind him, subtly trying to figure out his choice of drink. You hoped it was non-alcoholic. He’d be suffering from withdrawals and if he clung to a substitute vice, you’d have to find a roundabout way to tackle the issue without pushing him to close off again. You didn’t need that, he was just starting to open up after all, plus if he stopped cooperating, you’d have no choice but to bring it up to his supervisors, jeopardizing his career.

A clear glass came into view as he shuffled his weight from one foot to the other.

Water. It was water.

You breathed a sigh of relief before slowly panning up, locking eyes with Dr. Reid. His gaze narrowed, having understood what you were checking on.

Checkmate.

“She’s FBI’s contracted psychiatrist,” he explained, jaw tight from anger.

You flashed him a little smile before averting your eyes in chagrin.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look a little to young to be a licensed doctor,” Agent Jareau observed.

“I graduated early.”

Morgan’s left hand pats your back while the other pats Dr. Reid’s. “Another genius, then. You’d get along great with our pretty boy over here. He’s always going on and on about facts and statistics—“

“No offense Morgan, but I don’t think we’d get along at all,” Spencer sneered. “I’d rather not get to know someone who has an ulterior motive.”

Your hand tightened around your glass. “It’s great to meet you, Agent Jareau and Agent Morgan but I think my friends would be looking for me,” you flashed the young agent a dejected smile. “Dr. Reid, hope to see you again soon.”

“I don’t,” he sardonically replied.

You nodded once before turning back to where you friends would be, settled in the four seater booth, unaware that you may have just burned the rocky bridge you’ve built with a patient in need.

The fourth meeting

A warbled hum roused you from slumber.

With one eye straining to stay open, the digital clock on your dresser displayed 12:21. Midnight—the time for humans to all be in stupor but based on the humming, subdued underneath your pillow, there was one exception.

You sat up, blindly reaching for the phone. There was no programmed name for the number and right away, an eerie feeling started swirling in your gut. This was no social call. A call this hour could only be one thing, an emergency.

“Hello. Who is this?” Your voice still rough from sleep.

No answer.

You pressed the phone closer to your ear, hard enough to possibly leave a mark. There were light rustles on the other end that indicated a presence, a person that wouldn’t or couldn’t answer your inquiry.

“Hello,” you tried again, voice raising at the end from tension. “Is anyone there?”

There was silence. The dread in your stomach further worsening as if group of bats decided to wreak havoc in its dark crevices. There was no indication that this was a prank call and there was also no indication that it wasn’t.

You bit your lip, torn between hanging up and waiting for an existence to make itself known. It could be nothing or it could be—your train of thought suddenly taking a sharp left turn to the corner that a certain FBI agent unknowingly occupies. You had given him your number, having scrawled it at the back of your calling card during the very first meeting, purely out of the goodness of trying to put back the broken genius that graced and intrigued your doors.

“Dr. Spencer Reid?” You hesitantly asked, hoping that your intuition was wrong. That this wasn’t the agent calling for help.

A deep groan answered.

“Oh gods,” you breathed out. “Okay, okay. Just—shit, just stay on the line. I’m coming, I swear. Just—fuck.” Your feet scrambled out of the apartment, never mind the lights or the chill that the midnight had cloaked the air with.

It was your worst nightmare. You knew what this call was, you knew his state on the other side of the phone by experience.

Hands trembling as you started the ignition of your car and speedily backing up the parking lot and out the streets in little time.

“Spencer,” formality be damned at this point as you turned a sharp right, your GPS indicating 8 minutes away from destination. “Spencer, are you still there?”

A light rustle replied.

“I’m almost there, hang on for me, okay,” your hand letting go of the steering wheel to push the tousled hair away from your face.

Each second felt like an eternity, each time passed threatened to push your mind into the fog of panic and memory of your very own father taking a whole bottle of Oxycodone and leaving a message for you and your grandmother. The panic, the fear, and the dread of that very moment had come back in two folds.

Your clammy fingers leaving pinch marks on the back of your palm. “Not now, not now,” you whispered to yourself. “I can’t have an attack now, keep it together.”

“Dr. House,” Spencer gravely slurred.

You haphazardly parked the car at the nearest available sidewalk space, uncaring if by some miracle you get ticketed. “I’m here, Spencer. I’m here.”

There was a groan as you hurriedly ran up the apartment stairs, grateful that the security below was surprisingly lax.

Third floor, get to the third floor. I need to get to the third floor—you repeated under your breath. You could have called an ambulance or better yet his team member, SSA Derek Morgan, but you felt the urge to make sure he was alright. To make him see that someone else besides from his mother and team care about him. To make him see that life was worth living, no matter the good or the bad.

“Spencer, I’m outside your door,” you tried to catch your breath. “Do you think you could let me in?”

And for a few seconds, there was only the tense silence before a series of gasps and groans crescendo’ed louder and louder from the phone speaker and on the other side of the door.

Shit. You knew what those grunts of pain and pleas meant, he was seizing.

Slamming down on the ground, uncaring if your exposed knees get bruised, you sent a silent thank you to your past self for leaving a hair pin inside the pockets of your sleep shorts. Breaking and entering was yet another skill set you learned from the other Dr House and his team of skilled doctors, you just never imagined you’d be applying that knowledge in breaking and entering a federal agent’s home.

The door unlocked and you barreled your way to the living space where a frightful sight greeted you—Spencer on the floor, laying still as if he was peacefully sleeping.

“No, no, no,” you slid beside him, mind cataloguing every detail for the right action. An empty needle near his exposed right arm and an empty glass bottle of Dilaudid.

No rise and fall of the chest.

And no pulse. Medical training kicking in, you tilted his head up, clearing the pathway, and started chest compressions.

One. Two. Three—

“C’mon, Spencer, breathe,” you grunted in between pumps.

One. Two. Three. Four—

You leaned down to his chapped lips, blowing air to his mouth. “I need you to breathe for me, okay. Breathe, Spencer.”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five—

“Breathe, c’mon Spencer,” you knew there was a high probability for the agent to have his own stash of narcotics and in by agreeing to keep his secret, lest he loses his badge, to get him to open up was a gamble. A risk you were now regrettably paying for.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six—

“Dammit Spencer, I could lose my license for this. Breathe, I need you to breathe.”

A sputtering of coughs escaped his lips.

“Oh thank you, thank you,” you breathed out, arms sagging from the pressure of performing CPR and the weight of fear that you might have been too late.

Spencer groaned. “Dr. House?”

You nodded, the salty tears blurring your vision. The image of him lying still was burned into your memory, the same way the mirage of your own father lying in a pool of his own vomit. He’s alive—they’re both alive.

Your hands angrily erased the rivulets the tears left behind on your cheeks. Now wasn’t the time to give in to relief and emotion. Although Spencer was out of the woods, there was still a huge uphill battle to tackle.

“I’ll carry you to bed, lean your weight on me,” you huffed as you helped him up the floor, making sure to take in most of his weight that you could.

The form of you, tears still streaming down your face and steps away from a breakdown, and his hunched form, weak and pliant, was a sight to behold. It was a sight after battle—after the white flag had been waved and the injured tying their best to find their way back to life.

It was sad. It was hopeful.

It was a brush on humanity’s eternal friend, death. Death that still loomed in the corners of the apartment, biding his time to take what was promised.

You laid him gently on the bed before running back to the spied kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. The smell of books permeated the air as if to try and bring your panicked mind back to the present. If it were any other day, you would have found yourself perusing his shelves of eclectic classic literature but this wasn’t the right time and place.

Your bare feet sliding across the floor to make its way back to the groaning figure on the bed, threatening to sit up.

“No,” you tapped his shoulder to get him back down. “I need you to rest.”

“But—”

“No buts Spencer. Rest, I’ll stay here.”

His drooping eyes reading yours, trying to find any type of lie that would break his being further than it already was. Spencer was a broken man and this was the first time you could see written in his eyes his plea for help and company. “You promise?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

His hands blindly groping across the bed spread before it found the treasure it was searching for, your hand. He enveloped his with yours, calloused fingers intertwining with smooth. A contrast that brought him comfort—you were here. You were real. You felt safe. You saved him.

He was alive.

And with that, his eyes closed to fall into a peaceful slumber, one that he hadn’t had in months.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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pathologicalreid · 8 months ago

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orange juice | S.R.

you and spencer have an announcement to make, but you're not quite sure how to do it

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: bau!reader, pregnant!reader, nausea and pregnancy symptoms, slightly protective spencer, mentions blood tests and doctors, not proofread word count: 906 a/n: this week has been so atrocious and awful and stressful!!! fuck cancer!! fuck student loans!!! i need spencer reid fluff!!!

“Drink it,” Spencer murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the file on his desk in front of him while noting the way you hadn’t so much as budged in his periphery. You were leaning a bit too far to the left, and the more he observed you, the more he worried that you were going to topple over. “It’ll make you feel better,” he prodded.

Your head jolted as he continued to watch you as if he had woken you from a deep sleep, “What? Sorry,” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the bottle of orange juice that he had placed on your desk upon your arrival at the BAU.

A laugh caught your attention as you slowly turned your office chair around, “Late night, pretty girl?” Derek quipped, winking in your direction before turning back to his own work.

Turning back around, you shared a look with Spencer while rolling your chair closer to your desk, hoping to be able to better prop your head up. The real answer was that you had an early morning, woken up by a roiling stomach courtesy of the first trimester.

Spencer had gotten up with you at five this morning and your queasiness showed no sign of faltering. Your stomach had nothing left to give by the time you went to your doctor’s appointment, but you assured your husband that you were fine when you arrived in Quantico after having your blood drawn.

The issue was that no one knew. Other than Hotch – for obvious personal safety reasons – no members of the BAU were aware that you were pregnant. It started as wariness, wanting to reach a certain milestone before letting your team know, but it quickly turned into a different form of anxiety. You hadn’t let your team know you were even talking about having a baby. Neither of you were entirely sure how to broach the subject or announce your pregnancy, so you didn’t.

Hidden in plain sight, resting on Spencer’s desk was a sonogram, a three-by-five, black-and-white photo of your baby, the two of you were simply waiting for a profiler observant enough to notice. You weren’t showing, yet, as you encroached upon the second trimester, you worried you were running out of time.

His theory was that your nausea was being exacerbated by low blood sugar, which is why he made sure to give you orange juice – you weren’t so convinced, orange juice was brutal coming back out.

You heard the familiar woosh of the glass doors to the bullpen swing as someone entered, the click-clack of Garcia’s heels snapping you back to attention, it was almost time for morning debrief. If you were lucky, you’d remain at your desk for the rest of the day. If your luck ran out, you’d have to pop a Zofran before getting on the jet.

Sighing, you rested your chin in your hand before going back to clicking through your emails, pausing for just a moment when Spencer reached across the short barrier between your desks and opened the bottle for you. To appease him, you took a small sip of the orange juice, pleased when you saw him settle in his desk chair.

“What’s that?” Garcia asked, nearly stumbling to a stop behind Spencer’s desk as her eyes snagged on something on the surface. “No, no I know what that is,” she continued, stammering and flicking her eyes between you and Spencer.

Penelope’s rising voice garnered the attention of other people in the bullpen, bringing them to your and Spencer’s adjacent desks. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” Derek piped up, making his way over and setting a hand on the back of your chair.

Pointing at you, the technical analyst wagged her finger as she made the connections in her brain. The doctor’s appointments and the sudden aversion to girl’s night made sense to her now, and you could see it in the way her gaze softened when she stepped around the desks in order to give you a hug, “Is that real?”

As you reciprocated her hug, you nodded, glancing over at your husband as you knew your secret was now out. “Yeah,” you mumbled into her blonde hair, “It’s real.”

“Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Morgan said, looking around, sharing a confused look with Emily but earning a ‘dude, really?’ look from JJ.

Releasing you from the hug, Penelope reached over the acrylic barrier, plucked the sonogram off Spencer’s desk, and presented it to the rest of the team Vanna White style, “Baby genius is imminent!” She announced, beaming at you and Spencer as you snuck around them to stand at his side.

One by one, Emily, JJ, and Derek embraced both you and Spencer, “Wait, how long has that picture been there?” Emily questioned, arching a dark brow at you and Spencer.

“Two weeks,” Spencer answered quickly, snaking an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly.

You leaned into him slightly before nodding in affirmation, “Yeah, some profilers you guys are!”

Rolling his eyes, Morgan came back at you for another hug, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted slightly off the ground. “Woah, hey, be careful,” Spencer said, waiting expectantly for your coworker to let you go.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped back to where Spencer was standing while Emily spoke again, “Oh, he’s going to be insufferable by the end of this.”

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tteokdoroki · 11 months ago

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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — KATSUKU BAKUGOU. setting powder.

about. whilst getting ready to meet your new boyfriend’s extended family — you learn that he knows a thing or two about doing makeup.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, enemies to lovers, meeting the family, new relationships, brief mention of injury and hospitals, reader wears makeup and dresses, pro hero!bakugou, nurse/doctor!reader.

“we’re gonna be late, sweetheart.”

leaning against the door frame, bakugou crosses his arms over his chest — his perfect lips pulled into a suave smirk as he watches you finish your makeup for tonight.

“wha…huh? you said i had twenty minutes?” you’re still half dressed, your boyfriend’s baggy hoodie from an old merch collection draped over your sweet little dress to protect it from your foundation, your hair is tied back and away from your face so it doesn’t get in the way and though you’re still trying to blend your cream blush in with one of those sponge things — katsuki thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the entire world.

pushing himself off the door frame, he sits behind you on the bed — still watching you work at the vanity whilst he fixes the cuffs of his dress shirt. “that was twenty minutes ago,” the blonde rasps affectionately and grasps your at your jewellery laid out on the bed. the rough pad of his thumb traces over the ‘K’ on the silver heart locket he’d gotten you for your birthday before he undoes the clasp and places the chain around your neck — being mindful of your hair in the process. “y’said you’d be done by then.”

you catch your boyfriend’s vermillion stare in the reflection of your mirror — his subtle smile when he sees his initials dangling from your neck. it feels you with warmth to know that no matter what, katsuki will always find you beautiful and will always love you. even with how chaotic your makeup looks when half done. “i think i spent too long in the shower ‘n underestimated how long this look would take,” you sigh, reaching for your lip gloss next. you’ll have to put it in your purse, do your lips in the car. “do you think they’ll mind if we’re any later than this?”

“my parents won’t. neither will inko. deku — i mean — izuku will, but he’ll pretend he ain’t bothered,” bakugou prattles down the list, making a note of tonight’s attendees. it was tradition that the bakugous and the midoriyas had a monthly dinner together, it had been going on since the two pro heroes were children. only now, their partners were invited since they were family too. family included you.

you hadn’t gone to U.A and you certainly didn’t know katsuki until he became an up and coming pro hero. the first time he’d saved you, by the sidewalk of the hospital you worked at, you thought he was brutish and stuck up. you’d hated him and he’d hated you. but over time, and more frequent trips to A&E after saving civilians or sometimes after being wounded in villain attacks — you’d come to appreciate bakugou’s brooding personality and observant nature.

he’d come to like you too. how much you cared for others and wanted to make the world a better place. you reminded him a little bit of izuku, in a strange way.

so one night when you were on call, katsuki brought you flowers instead of a stomach wound that needed stitches and you’d given him a kiss instead of berating him about being careful, over vanilla and chocolate pudding cups from the hospital cafeteria.

signing impatiently, you bring katsuki back to present day. “i wanted to make a good impression on your aunty and on your best friend,” rubbing your arm nervously, you cast your gaze over the mess on your vanity — expensive products splayed across them in organised chaos.

“you will. they’re gonna love you. they already do,” bakugou stands behind you now, rough palms smoothing over your shoulders. “izuku says you’ve made me less bitchy at work. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle, eyes sparkling in delight as you look at the blonde in the mirror. “really?”

“really,” he nods sheepishly. the way you look at him makes him feel so loved. it’s new to him. nice to him. “now, whaddya need help with s’we can hurry up ‘n hit the road.”

you begin to ramble on, perking up at the idea of katsuki helping with the rest of your routine.“well… i’ve done my lashes, my eyes, my base and blush… i can do lips in the car. aside from putting on earrings and fixing my hair all i need is to set my face with—“

“settin’ powder,” bakugou grabs the little pot from your vanity as if he knew where it was all along, picking up a little face cushion as well as he prepares to get to work. “got it.” he dips the cushion into the translucent powder, rubbing the excess off on the back of his hand before leaning in real close to dab at the areas he thinks you need it. like your t-zone.

your boyfriend’s touch is like magic on your face, perfectly setting your makeup while making you feel like a pampered princess. “who taught you how to do this?” comes your shy mumble, his proximity to your face causing you to grow flustered and squirm in your seat. “h-how are you so good at it?”

“keep still, i’ll be finished faster if y’stop squirmin’ sweetheart. don’t wanna mess up what you’ve done already,” pausing his actions, katsuki gives you a toothy smirk — revelling in how bashful you’ve become under his touch while he helps you with your makeup. “…grew up behind the scenes of fashion shows ‘n shoots. so i picked up a thing or two i wanted to make sure i could still do it so i watched a couple of videos on it too. ‘n i noticed…you always put so much time ‘n effort into your makeup. wanted to help make the process easier for you.”

you feel as though you could melt at katsuki’s kind words and gesture as he dabs at your face a little more — tongue caught between the tips of his pearly white teeth as he sticks it out in concentration. he’s so cute it makes you want to scream. “you’re sweet,” you coo appreciatively, stilling yourself to let him finish before he pulls back — satisfied with his work. “i love you.”

it’s not the first time you’ve said it to one another, but the three words are still new to the both of you. “i uh…i love you more,” a pink, rosey hue rises on the surface of bakugou’s tanned skin and his red, loving eyes dart away from your face bashfully. “‘m gonna get your shoes ‘n jacket ready by the door while that sits. don’t forget your settin’ spray after you brush that shit off — oh ‘n don’t take my hoodie off until you’ve done that. don’t wanna ruin your dress, kay?”

“okay,” you respond fondly, hiding your smile at his very specific instructions. “i’ll be down in a minute.”

katsuki nods hesitantly, standing up as he gathers your belongings and outerwear — ready to load them up in the car, when he suddenly pauses in place. “you look beautiful tonight, sweetness. you always do.” he adds as one last parting message, before disappearing down the hall.

leaving you wondering how you ever lucked out with such a man. one who’s not only kind and gentle and loving, but a pro hero and a makeup artist at that.

#tteokdoroki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagines #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #mha x reader #mha fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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elizzsush · 6 months ago

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“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

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salemrph · 27 days ago

Text

Wine, Lies and Longing

Summary: You win a romantic vineyard getaway, a dream escape you never expected. Unsure of who to take, you impulsively invite Sylus. What starts as playful pretending, soon becomes something far more real. In the heart of the vineyard, surrounded by the sweetness of wine and the glow of moonlight, you begin to wonder: is this just an act, or the start of something you’ve always longed for?

Based on the new banner Night Rendezvous!

Character: MC x Sylus // Genre: romantic, soft, explicit sexual content // Pet names: Kitten, Sweetie // Word count: 8,827 | Reading Time: 35 min

A/N: This was written before Night Rendezvous officially dropped, inspired by the clips we’ve seen over the past two days. Please note there might be some errors—I was absolutely frantic about the banner while writing this! I just couldn’t get Sylus out of my head.

WARNINGS: mdni, biting, penetration, cum. Remember, fanfics are not a reliable source of sexual education. For questions about protection and birth control, talk to your doctor.

A weeks ago, after visiting your regular supermarket to pick up your usual after-mission dinner set, the kind cashier, while taking your point card, reminded you about the ongoing special raffle.

"Miss, do you want to participate in the lottery?" You looked at the display banner on the counter. The image of serene mountains under a captivating sunset, the sparkle of a drop of water on a bunch of grapes, and the faces of people happily enjoying an unforgettable moment. “Two days in a mountainous region with beautiful views” it read— a getaway promising wine, relaxation, and a fleeting escape from your daily chaos. You paused for a moment, thinking that a vacation wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially since you’d been continuously working on missions, paperwork, and grueling training sessions. You let out a soft sight, the exhaustion creeping into your thoughts. What could happen? In worst case, you would not win the prize, and at the moment, simply filling out the digital form will maybe bring you closer to a small break. Without overthinking it, you nodded, typed in your details, and submitted your entry.

Not even sure, when that happens, you blink a couple of times while checking your email. You can hardly believe your eyes. You won, you actually won that stupid getaway for two! The excitement bubbles up in you like champagne, because you never win anything. You can already imagine the fresh air, the rolling hills, the luxury of it all. You want to scream. You do a little dance in your living room. This is how it should be. Without thinking twice, you call Tera to share the news. After a few rings, she picks up.

"Hey, my favorite person!" she say cheerful like always.

"Tera, guess what?" you ask enthusiastic, you don't wait for her to answer "I won a trip for two to a vineyard! Wanna go on a girls' trip?"

"Say what?! Really? That's amazing!"

"I know! I'm really excited." you explain to Tera briefly what kind of trip it is. “Oh, we could have a lot of fun. Are you in?”

"Oh, I would love to, but… isn’t this kind of trip for couples?" You freeze, your smile faltering.

"Couple? Let me check..."

A shadow of doubt creeps in, heavy and unwelcome. Frowning, you swipe back to the email announcing your prize, it took you a moment to go trough the conditions. Your stomach tightening as your eyes land on the fine print: Only couples allowed. Your mind races, a mix of disappointment and worry swirling inside you. You stare at the screen, torn between laughing at the absurdity and groaning at your oversight.

"What should I do?" you ask, feeling a little lost.

"We could just say we’re a couple" says Tera laughing a bit.

You lean back against the couch, chewing on the idea. Pretending wouldn’t be that hard, would it? It’s not like the vineyard is going to demand proof of your relationship. Still, the idea feels... complicated. Then Tera continues with a playful tone.

"Or..." she teases, "...you could ask Mr. Skye to go with you? He has a crush on you. Maybe this is the perfect chance to level up your relationship with him."

The thought alone makes your cheeks heat up. Sylus? Taking him with you? Your heart flutters. It wouldn't be the first time with him on a trip but... on a exclusive couple trip? You remember the time you were with him in that castle, telling you that weird story to help you fall asleep, but you strangely ended up being bitten by him on the neck. Your cheeks are starting to burn, the feeling of his teeth on your skin was intense. You put a hand on your neck, it feels like it was yesterday.

“Are you there?” You shake you head, trying to come back to the conversation.

“Really? Are you serious?” feeling a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“Why not? He’s hot, you’re hot, and it’s a romantic vineyard trip. It practically screams opportunity!” Her words make you feel more nervous and you go silent again. She only wants to ship you with him. Her personal real time K-drama. "I think you should ask him,” she presses, a bit insistently. “It could be fun. Worst case? You survive the trip. Best case? You come back as a couple. Just saying"

“Tera...” you sigh. “I don't like him—"

“Bullshit!” she cuts you off, her voice cheerful and confident. “You have a thing for him, admit it! Be happy with him. You know what? I’m not going with you.” She laughs. “Ask him and have fun! And call me for the little dirty details. Byee”

“Wait! Tera?!” And with that, the call is over, leaving you staring at your phone.

You groan. The room feels too quiet, too charged with the sudden possibility. Sylus—always confident, always composed—would undoubtedly say yes. You could already imagine his reaction: that cocky tilt of his head, his dark eyes narrowing with amusement. You bite your lip. Tera is right, he is hot. Terribly hot.

You glaze on your phone, fingers hovering over the screen. Should I, shouldn't I text him? Your heart is racing. How could you wrap this up to make it less... weird? The last time you came up with a plan, it wasn’t that difficult, was it? The couple photo shoot... well, OTTO was very insistent that you take part in it. In the end, it was fun... and you had a kind of romantic moment with Sylus. Maybe you can see this as a payback of all the time he help you with stuff.

But why Sylus? You could just ask the other friend you have, right? You go through the scenario in your head, imagining how it might go if you asked Zayne, Xavier or Rafayel. I mean, the boys are cool, but bringing your co-worker/neighbour could be very relaxing. Xavier wouldn’t be interested in the wine, but he’d enjoy the fresh mountain air. Zayne... you sighed. He was always too busy to go anywhere. Rafayel could be fun, but the idea of playing bodyguard while travelling didn’t appeal to you. You're starting to feel sleepy from all this thinking, and feel like to take a nap is the right solution to not deal with this. It's early in the morning. Or should you maybe have a coffee and go for a run. You sigh. This can't be so complicated.

After what feels like an eternity of hesitation, you finally decide to at least ask Sylus first. Just as you gather the courage to type something, your phone buzzes. A call from him.

“What are you doing?” he says without even saying hello.

“Working” you lie.

“You sound tired, kitten.” he says, a hint of concern threading through his voice. „I thought you were going to take a break after all that missions”

You feel the warmth in his ton, it make you feel... good. “I'm planning too.” Thinking how to bring up the trip. “I just need to finish a few things.”

There’s a pause before he speaks again, the softness of his words taking you by surprise. “If you ever feel overwhelmed, you're always welcome at my place”. You smile like an idiot without notices it. If Tera were there she would have teased you about that.

“I will...” you try to compose yourself. “Why are you calling me now? Isn't this you bed time hour?

He laugh softly, a sound that always seems to melt your heart if you're not careful “I like to hear your voice before I go to bed. That's way I call”.

“I see...” you murmur.

“What are you planning to do?”

“Well...” you hesitate, the words feeling awkward in your throat. “I won this trip for two to a vineyard. I was talking to Tera, she doesn't have the time to come with me. And I... I know it’s a couple’s thing, but I would be a shame—”.

“Go to the point, kitten” he interrupts with a laugh.

“I wanted to ask you, if...” you close you eyes, as if that would save you the embarrassment in case he says no. “...you could come with me? I owe you for few things.”

There’s a moment of silence before he answers, his voice calm, yet with an undertone of amusement. “Sure, I’ll go. Wouldn’t want you to miss out.“ The relief washes over you, but there’s a strange flutter in your chest too. You try to ignore it. “Send me the details.”

“Alright. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, kitten.”

...

When you finally arrive with him at the vineyard, the atmosphere is perfect. The air is crisp, the vineyards stretch out beneath a sky painted in soft pastels, and the scent of fresh earth and ripe grapes lingers. The estate’s stone pathways crunch softly beneath your feet as you make your way to the guest rooms.

The room is picturesque and charming, with rustic wooden beams and a window overlooking the sprawling vineyard. But your eyes are drawn immediately to the bed. One bed. A king-sized one, with crisp white sheets and pillows that seem to mock you with their perfect arrangement. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, the reality of it sinking in. Calm down! You have slept with him in one bed, more then you want to count.

Sylus steps inside behind you, he sets your and his bag down, his usual confidence radiating from him like a second skin.

“Looks cozy” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk just shy of teasing.

You manage a laugh, though it comes out shaky. “Cozy is one way to put it.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning against the wall with an ease that makes your stomach flip. “You nervous already? We haven’t even opened the wine yet.”

You roll your eyes, desperate to mask the heat creeping up your neck. “As if. Just… surprised, that’s all.” He chuckles, the sound low and velvety, sending a shiver through you.

“Surprised, huh?” Then, with a playful tilt of his head. “Relax, my love” You get goosebumps hearing him say those words. The pet name drips with mockery, but the way he says it makes your breath hitch.

“You don´t have to call me that”

“Why not? This is a couples trip, doesn't it?” His smile is maddeningly confident, his tone bordering on a challenge. You let out a long sigh, trying to steady the flustered mess inside you.

“You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

He straightens, stepping closer—too close. His voice drops just enough to make your pulse quicken. “We want to make it convincing. Or do you have a better plan?”

It’s not the first time you’ve had to pretend to be couple or lover, or whatever, but somehow, this feels different. You’re not on a mission with him, not playing a part for someone else's benefit. This is personal—too personal.

Sylus strides over to the bed, his movements deliberate. He sits down with the kind of ease that suggests he owns the space, leaning back on one arm as if the room was made for him. You perch on the edge of the bed, trying to relax, but every part of you is hyper-aware of his presence—the faint spice of his cologne, the quiet rustle of his shirt as he shifts, the heat radiating from him even at a distance.

“No, I don't.” you say annoyed “I... just hope we can enjoy this.” Your words trail off as you glance out the window, desperate for a distraction. It’s definitely a super romantic place, the kind of setting you’d see in a movie. You cling to the view, hoping its beauty will steady your swirling thoughts.

Sylus looks over at you, a faint smirk on his lips.

"I’m sure it’ll be enjoyable, either way. We’re in the right place for it" he says, his voice low and confident, as if he already knows how the weekend will unfold. You swallow hard, forcing a smile.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his smirk deepening. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”

You turn your gaze back to the vineyard, trying to steady your racing thoughts. This is just a weekend, you remind yourself. It’s just Sylus.

...

The agenda for the day is simple—nothing too complicated. Just a tour of the property, along with the other couple staying at the vineyard. Then, a wine tasting session to enjoy the local flavours, followed by a leisurely dinner under the stars. Afterwards, you’re meant to relax, enjoy the evening, and retire to bed. Easy, right?

But despite how simple it sounds. As you make your way through the vineyard with Sylus by your side, everything feels heightened, even the sound of your footsteps crunching on the gravel path. The soft laughter of the other couple fills the background, but it feels distant. In your distraction, you trip slightly over your feet. Why are you even wearing heals? You catch yourself, but before you can fully regain balance, Sylus is there—his hand firm on your arm, pulling you closer. He steadies you effortlessly, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through you.

“Give me your hand,” he murmurs, his voice low, smooth. You blink, still a little off-balance, and look up at him, confused “What?” He smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You surely don’t want to break you ankle or ruin your dress, do you?” His words are wrapped in a teasing edge. You eye him suspiciously, your pulse racing.

“Besides,” he continues in a soft whisper, his breath warm against your ear, “that’s what couples do. Care for each other.”

The heat of his hand in yours makes your heart race, his touch unexpectedly gentle, sending a shiver down your spine. You try to focus, try to shake off the unexpected flutter in your chest. But his proximity, his warmth, makes it hard to think clearly. Maybe…

The tour guide’s voice weaves through the warm air, narrating the history of the vineyard with practiced ease. But you barely register the words.

The wine tasting that follows feels like an eternity. Each sip is a kaleidoscope of flavours, yet none hold your focus for long. The richness of the reds, the crispness of the whites—they all blur together as you try to ground yourself, but it’s impossible with Sylus nearby. His gaze lingers too long, his teasing comments too precise, cutting through your resolve with the ease of a knife through silk.

“Not bad,” he says, his voice low and smooth as he swirls the wine in his glass. His dark eyes glint with amusement. “But I’ve tasted better.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to play it cool. “Oh, I didn’t realice you were such a wine connoisseur.”

He leans in slightly, his tone dropping just enough to make your breath catch. “I have a talent for recognising quality.”

A smile tugs at your lips, genuine this time. You can't help it. Each exchange feels like a dance, his confidence pressing against your composure in a way that leaves you breathless. Actually, you want to bite back with some sharp words, but there it is. That soft smile, the same one he had after the boxing match, under the falling snow... Your lips part, but instead of speaking, you just look back at him. Everything seems to slow down. Is the wine affecting you? For a heartbeat, neither of you speaks. For a fleeting second, you wonder if he feels it too. You eyes darts on this lips, how would they taste?

And then, just before the moment slips away, he does something unexpected. He sets his glass down, his movements fluid, and without breaking eye contact, he reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is light, but it lingers just long enough to make your skin tingle.

Before you can even process it, a soft tap on your shoulder pulls you from the moment. Two women approach, giggling like schoolgirls, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

They interrupt the bubble you’ve found yourself in, and the weight of Sylus’s touch vanishes as if it was never there. But the heat in your chest lingers, a faint trace of the connection that just passed between you.

“Excuse me” one of them says, her voice light and playful as she glances between you and Sylus. The other nudges her, stifling a giggle, and you can already feel the familiar mix of curiosity and dread bubbling up.

“We couldn’t help but notice” the first woman continues, her smile widening, “you two are just the cutest couple. You’ve got this… spark. It’s like you stepped out of a romance novel!”

You blink, caught off guard, the glass of wine freezing halfway to your lips. A flush rises to your cheeks, and you can feel Sylus shift beside you, his presence suddenly more commanding.

“Oh, really?” he says smoothly, his tone carrying that trademark confidence. He slides an arm casually around your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse quicken. “Well, I’m glad we’re keeping the vineyard’s reputation for romance alive.

His words, so effortlessly delivered, make the women swoon audibly. “The way you two look at each other—it’s just magical!”

You force a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as strained as it feels. “Thanks” you manage, your voice tight as Sylus’s hand lingers on your hip, warm and steady.

“Are you two married?”

“No” you say quickly, your voice a little too sharp, too defensive.

Sylus, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He looks at you, then smiles smoothly at the women. “No but...” he says as he looks back at you. “Our soul are already bound, so is better then marriage.”

The women gasp, eyes widening in surprise. “Such a poetic man...” the first woman exclaims. “You two are perfect together!”

You blink, momentarily stunned, unsure of how to react. Sylus doesn’t seem at all phased by the lie, his calm demeanor making it feel like a perfectly natural thing to say.

“Thanks” he says, his voice smooth as silk. “We’re very happy.”

You smile politely, trying to shake off the warmth creeping up your neck. The words linger in your mind as you finish your wine, but you can’t help but feel a little more self-conscious now. They really think you’re with him. You can’t help but wonder if the lines between roll playing and reality are already starting to blur.

The women chat a little longer, their compliments spilling over like the wine in their glasses. Finally, they flit away, their laughter trailing behind them as they disappear into the crowd.

You exhale sharply, stepping out of Sylus’s hold and turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Really? Our soul are bound? Better then marriage?”

He grins, unfazed, leaning closer until his voice drops low enough that only you can hear. “What?” His gaze locks onto yours, his smirk softening into something almost tender. “Saying the true is sometime easier then coming up with some lie, sweetie”

Maybe he’s enjoying this a little too much. But if he’s enjoying it, why don’t you enjoy it too? You think to yourself, a strange thought whispering at the back of your mind. Even if it’s just for this trip, just for the moment.

The wine has already begun to work its magic, loosening your inhibitions and making everything feel just a little more carefree. Before you can fully think it through, you find yourself clinging to Sylus’s arm, your fingers lightly gripping the sleeve of his jacket. The warmth of his presence settles against you, his steady pulse beneath your touch a reminder of just how close he is. You feel the tension in your chest ease, replaced by something else, something much more complicated.

Sylus’s smile stretches wide as he looks down at you, the corner of his lips curling in that smug, almost predatory way he always does when he knows he’s got your attention.

The quiet hum of the evening settles back in. It’s as if a small door has been opened, and you’re not entirely sure what’s on the other side, but for now, you’re curious enough to stay a little longer.

Sylus doesn’t move, his arm still locked with yours, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low and teasing. “Enjoying yourself so far, sweetheart?”

You glance up at him, maybe... just maybe... it won’t be as simple as you expected.

…

Dinner arrives just as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the sky in soft, dusky hues. The air feels cooler now, but the warmth of the intimate atmosphere wraps around you, drawing you closer to the cozy setting. The flickering candlelight dances across the stone walls, casting playful shadows that seem to shift with every movement. It’s romantic, the kind of dinner scene you only see in movies, and for a moment, it feels like you’re part of a story you’re not sure you want to end.

Sylus is seated next to you, his tall frame glowing softly in the dim light. He’s quieter than usual, but his presence is undeniable. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to yours, and there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes you want to jump from your chair and lose yourself in him right there.

During the dinner, you find yourself addressing him a few times as “my love” or “honey”, while taking in the large group at the table. The words slip from your lips without thinking, and each time they do, a little thrill runs through you. You’re playing the part, but in some strange way, you realize you’re not pretending anymore. You’re enjoying it, living it.

You let your fingers brushed against his hand, and before you know, you’re subtly holding his hand beneath the table. The simple touch sends warmth up your arm. The intimacy of the gesture, hidden from the others, feels like a secret shared between just the two of you. You pass him food, feeding each other bites of your meals, exchanging tastes like lovers. Each touch, each glance, each shared moment feels more natural than it should.

You’re lost in the closeness, in the warmth of the evening, in the role you’re playing so effortlessly. It feels easy, too easy, to slip into this new dynamic with him. And for the first time since you arrived, you stop questioning it. For tonight, you’re his beloved. And maybe, just maybe, you can stay like this forever.

The evening winds down, and you’re a bit tipsy, your cheeks flushed with a soft pink. You decide to step outside for some fresh air, leaving Sylus talking to the owner of the vineyard. The nice warm sun is long gone, and the coldness of the mountains is a refreshing contrast to it. The vineyard stretches out before you, bathed in moonlight, and the quiet of the night feels peaceful. You feet are hurting, you've been walking with high heels all day.

You take a deep breath, feeling good, light, and free. For the first time in a while, you realize something you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to consider: You’re in love with him. There’s no denying it anymore. It’s there, right at the center of your heart, a truth you can’t shake. The way he looks at you, touches you—Every glance, every subtle move he makes, has stirred something deep inside you.

You stop for a moment, letting the breeze tousle your hair, and close your eyes. You’re here. You’re alive. And for this moment, you’re letting yourself feel what you feel, without worrying about what comes next. There’s something beautiful in the simplicity of it, in allowing yourself to just be in love with him. Tonight, you are free to love him, even if you don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

As you walk over the veranda, along wooden floor, you heels clicking, feeling the silence around you, lost in your thoughts, you hear his voice cut through the stillness.

"My beautiful beloved, where are you going?" Sylus’s voice is smooth, playful.

You turn around and give him the most sincere smile you've ever shown him. If someone else had seen the look on your face at that moment, they might have thought you'd given him your whole heart in that single expression. And if someone had told you what Sylus felt when he saw you smile like that, you might not have believed them.

You’re startled to find him so close, just a few steps behind you, his figure illuminated by the silvery glow of the moonlight. His eyes are fixed on you, that familiar, confident smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your heart race. "Just needed a moment," you reply softly.

He steps closer, his presence magnetic, his gaze never leaving yours. "I see."

The heat of the wine bubbles up in your chest, but it’s the way he stands there, close, that makes the moment feel heavier than it should. He watches you as if he’s trying to decode something, a quiet challenge in his eyes. Then, without another word, he removes his jacket, the fabric brushing against your arms as he drapes it over your shoulders.

“Thank you” you say a bit shy.

“No need.”

The silence stretches between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s glaring at you. You step closer to the railing, perching on it with half your body leaning out, the cool breeze brushing against your skin. Your mind drifts, flitting from thought to thought, nowhere in particular yet everywhere all at once. You’re enjoying it more than you expected. You hate to admit it, but Tera was right. You’ll need to thank her for pushing you to this.

“You’re staring” you say softly, trying to sound playful but failing to hide the nervous edge in your voice.

“Am I?” he counters smoothly, the smirk growing as he tilts his head slightly. “Maybe I just like what I see.” Your cheeks flush, but you don't look at him. Your eyes are still locked on the scenery.

“Mm-hmm” you hum.

“You’re quiet.” He remarks after a moment, his voice softer now, almost contemplative. “Something on your mind?”

You take a steadying breath, eyes still on the horizon. “Just... enjoying the view.”

He chuckles low. “Good to know I’m not the only one. Though, as beautiful as this is, we should head back—I’ve got something prepared for us.”

You tilt your head in curiosity, trying to read his expression, but before you can ask he gently takes you hand. You suppress a sigh as he guide you to stand up from the railing. You follow him, but the moment your feet hit the ground, the discomfort you’d been ignoring flares up. The cooling evening air has made the snug fit of your pretty shoes unbearable. You let out a soft whine as you take a couple of steps, causing Sylus to stop immediately. He turns, his brows furrowing with concern.

“What wrong?” You shake your head quickly, not wanting to make a fuss.

“It’s nothing... just my feet hurt a little”.

His gaze drops to your shoes, assessing the situation in an instant. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Sylus lets out a sigh, but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile. “You’re hopeless sometimes, kitten.” Without another word, he scans the area, his gaze landing on a nearby chair on the veranda. He strides over to it, picks it up, and places it gently in front of you.

“Sit” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. You do as he said then he kneels in front of you.

“What are you—?” you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Taking them off. Lift your leg.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intimacy of the moment not lost on you. You hesitate for a moment, but his steady gaze convinces you, and you lift your leg. The touch of his fingers on your ankle is electrifying. The dress you're wearing is riding up a bit. Concerned that he might catch a glimpse under the skirt, you discreetly try to lower it. Sylus doesn’t seem to notice or care, his focus entirely on your feet as he gently works to ease the discomfort you’re feeling. Still, you’re glad you're wearing cute panties, just in case something... happens? A few moments later your feet have been released from their prison, you feel relieved.

“This feels better, thanks” you say softly.

“Look at that, a second thanks I get today” he chuckles. Sylus stands up a little and leans over you. He's too close. "Hold on tight."

You feel his hands slide under your thighs and the other hand behind your back. In an instant, you find yourself lifted into his arms. You curl up instinctively, wrapping your arms around his neck, your body seeking the warmth and security he offers. His eyes flicker to your shoes, the red and black mist picks them up, placing them in one of his hand, not breaking stride as he carries you effortlessly.

“Put me down, Sylus” you say, a hint of laughter in your voice despite the situation.

“Do you want to walk barefoot?” he replies, his tone teasing but unwavering as he holds you close, his grip firm and steady. “Stay still, fussy kitten.”

With a pout you stop squirming in his arms, the smell of his perfume mixed with wine is incredible. You feel almost drunk, not from the wine itself but from the sweet and earthy mix that fills your senses, an alluring combination that invades your nose and makes your head spin just a little. You want to bit his neck.

He walks with you in his arms through the mansion, past couples lingering in the dining room. You catch a few glances from them, including the two women from earlier, who sigh at such an adorable image. A sense of pride swells inside you, and you feel almost lucky, as if you’re the center of attention in the best way possible. As you continue down the hallway toward your room, you look up, and your eyes meet his. That look again. Soft and tender.

As the door opens, you blink in surprise. The room is lit by soft candlelight and the chimney, the air sweet with the scent of fresh flowers, and a bottle of wine chilling in ice sits on the table. It feels like something straight out of a romance movie.

"Sylus, you don’t need to pretend in here" you say low, the question hanging in the air.

He meets your gaze, unfazed. "I’m not pretending." his tone very calm. You raise an eyebrow. He gently lowers you onto the bed, his hands steady and careful. He places your shoes on the floor beside the bed.

"Were you pretending before, being touchy and calling me pet names?" His question hits you like a spark.

You blush, stumbling over your words. "I..."

"It’s alright," he cuts in. “Lay down if you tried. It has been a long day” he look down, while unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest. The sight is fascinating and you can’t help but feel the absurd urge to lick every inch.

“I'm not” you feel your restraint cracking inside you, the longing for him is taking over.

“If you don't want to lie down” he continues, his voice smooth but with a hint of challenge “we can make the most of our time before dawn.” He step back, turning to the sofa for a moment. “Do you want some wine?”

This feels insane. You feel insane, but how long can you hold back? Isn’t this the perfect setup—wine, candlelight, fresh flowers, and a whole weekend for two? It’s a scene straight out of a dream. You stand up from the bed, your bare feet soft against the floor. Your body reacts before your mind can catch up, desire surging within you, irresistible and raw. You walk toward him, feeling both bold and vulnerable, wanting something more.

“Forget the wine” you say, almost offended by the suggestion. Without the heels, you feel smaller in front of him, but the fire inside you pushes that discomfort aside. You place one hand on his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers.

Sylus looks down at your hand, his gaze flickering to yours with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “I thought you were done with touching” he teases. You don’t answer, your pulse quickening. Damn him, it feels so good. Your fingers trace the opening of his black shirt, and you notice the slight change in his breathing. It’s subtle at first, but you can feel it—the way his chest rises and falls more sharply.

Sylus takes a slow, deliberate breath, his eyes locking with yours. You can tell he's holding back, but just barely. You smile, a little smug, pushing him down onto the sofa. He falls with a loud thud, but before he can settle, you quickly sit on his lap, both legs draped at his sides. Your dress shifts up with the movement, but this time, it doesn’t matter. You want to provoke him more than ever. Your hand returns to his chest, tracing irregular lines with your finger, the soft skin beneath your touch sending a pang of pleasure through your body. You can’t stop yourself from drawing closer, feeling the magnetism between you pull tighter with each passing second. He watches you intently, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You feel alive, every nerve on edge.

Your eyes flicker between his chest, his lips, and his eyes—his smoldering, unreadable eyes. You want to kiss him. The desire to feel his lips on yours is overwhelming, and you can’t fight it any longer.

Without thinking, you place your hand on his neck, your fingers trailing up to his cheek, the warmth of his skin... why did you take so long to get closer to him? At this point, that cute black underwear you wearing is wet, soak even. The heat between your thighs almost unbearable. Does he know what you want to do next? His playful, almost knowing look in his eyes would definitely say yes. You feel his control slipping, and it makes you ache for him even more.

You close the distance, moving your hand at the back of his neck, as you pull him closer. The moment your lips meet, everything else fades away. The warmth of his lips, the intensity of his touch, it's everything you've been feeling building up to this. You melt into the kiss, your body pressing closer to his, a wave of desire crashing over you. His hands move instinctively, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, and you respond just as fiercely, your heart pounding in your chest. You pull away breathless, your chest rising and falling with each quickened breath in the silence that follows. You look into his eyes, wide with disbelief at what just happened, your mind still trying to catch up with your body. Again, again, again, please.

Sylus moves forward, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. You sigh in both pleasure and relief, feeling every inch of the tension melt away as his kiss deepens, as if it’s the only thing that matters in this moment. You feel his hand gently but firmly cup your cheek, his touch sending a shiver through you.

The kiss is fierce and consuming, his urgency matching your own as his other hand slides between your shoulder blades, pulling you against his chest. His body presses into yours, as if he can’t bear to be apart for even a moment. His tongue tangles with yours, a messy, erotic dance that sends shivers down your spine, down to your core. It’s chaotic, passionate, and you can’t help but surrender to it. All you can feel, all you can think about, is him—his warmth, his touch, the raw desire radiating from him, and the storm building between you both. You’re lost in the sensation, in the wildness of the kiss, the taste of him.

Sylus adjusts his position slightly, moving you with him as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. He needs to be able to focus—focus on you, on your lips, on his throbbing desire in his pants that's driving him crazy. The tightness in his pants is almost unbearable. The soft material of your dress became a frustrating barrier to his touch, his hands hover over you, desperate to feel more.

„S- sylus...“ you manage to say between kisses, your voice filled with need. “Bed...“ His grip tightens around you hips. You can feel his hard dick between your legs since a while. He gives you a slow, deliberate kiss.

"Alright" he murmurs, he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, your body pressing against him as he moves swiftly toward the bed. The kiss never breaks as he places a knee on the bed, shifting you to the center, and gently lowers you onto the soft sheets. Your body tingles with the need for him, every inch of your skin alive, and the way he hovers just above you makes you feel like you're teetering on the edge of something you've both been craving since the being.

His nose brushing along the curve of you neck, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. Then, the slow, intentional sweep of his tongue follows, sending a wave of electric shivers down your spine. You let out a soft whimper. Sylus hums against your neck.

He moves back, kneeling between your legs, and gently places one hand at the back of your thigh, moving down to lift you leg. His touch is careful, his eyes never leaving yours. Your dress moves up, covering barley your panties. He kiss you inner thigh, and move down to your knee.

Sylus's gaze darkens, and a small, almost smug smile plays at the corners of his mouth. His voice is low, raw with need. He pauses, lips brushing lightly over your knee before pulling back slightly, meeting your eyes again. "You haven't changed your mind, have you? Because... I just can't hold back anymore."

“No, but...”you pause, unsure where the insecurity is coming from. Sylus lifts an eyebrow, sensing the shift.

“Speak, my love” You sit up slightly, reaching for his face, your fingers gently tracing the spot where you had cut him the first time you met. Sylus gasps at your touch, the surprise in his reaction softening your own doubts.

“Am I being too greedy... if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me? He takes your hand, his grip firm yet tender.

“You always had that right.” He presses a soft kiss to your wrist. "Which means... you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?"

“Yes” you smile, the tension easing slightly.

He leans in slowly “Good“ his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss, first teasing with a slow lick before diving deeper, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hungry urgency. You fall back on the bed with him, he assaults your neck, with bites marking your skin as he has always wanted. His breath near your ear is driving you wild.

You gasp against him, your hands gripping his shoulder as you pull him closer. You find yourself not wanting to stop, not wanting to break away. The overwhelming sensation burns like fire. You elevate you hips to met his. Why is he taking so long?

"Looks like we're on the same page when it comes to not waste time." Sylus caress you cheek. You pout, turning your head away to avoid his gaze, but he’s quicker. He tilts your chin back toward him with a gentle but firm touch. "Stay focused, kitten" he murmurs playful.

Before you can respond, he moves his hand to cover your eyes "Don't look" he begins to kiss you again, his breath coming out in sharp gaps. What does he mean? You want to see him—to witness his composure faltering, to know you’re the one making him feel this way.

Sylus seems to savour the moment, his quiet sounds of pleasure against your lips filling the air like a melody only the two of you can hear. To you, it’s music—raw, intoxicating, and divine—a symphony of the gods, stirring a desire so pure and all-consuming it leaves you breathless. The weight of his body presses against yours, his movements slow as he grinds against you. The pressures of his hardness between your legs.

His long fingers trail down your arm, stopping at your wrist before moving to your palm. He laces his fingers with yours, squeezing hard, grounding you in the intensity of the moment. You melt to his touch. A soft whimper escapes your lips, and he chuckles faintly, the sound vibrating against your skin. The heat coursing through your body is dizzying, your thoughts hazy as the fabric of your fucking clothing feels increasingly stifling, an annoying barrier to his touch.

“You're not allowed to stop me until I'm finished.” he whisper, you nod. You starting to get desperate. You pull at his shirt with your other hand. Sylus smirks as he lets you remove his shirt a bit clumsy. The shirt falls finally to the floor in a careless heap, forgotten. His hands move to your thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingers pressing into your skin as if staking a claim.

Sylus shifts slightly as his lips trail a path down your jaw. His other hands move with purpose, finding the hidden zipper of your dress on your back. You lean into him, your hands getting behind the waistband of his pants. Sylus smirks at your impatience, his fingers pausing briefly. The sound of it lowering fills the quiet space, mingling with the soft hum of your unsteady breaths. The fabric loosens, slipping off your shoulders.

Your hands moving to his belt, fumbling slightly as your nerves spark with adrenaline. He catches your wrist, stilling you for a moment. “You're truthly restless” he says with a teasing smirk, leaning down to kiss you again, as if savouring every second. He moves slightly to help you lift your dress over your head, the soft fabric slipping away easily and pooling on the floor beside his discarded shirt. You’re glad now that you picked out your favourite set—black with little red details you thought he might notice. From the way his eyes linger on you, it’s clear he does.

Your hands slide back to his waist. You glance up at him, and he gives you a small nod, his smirk never fading. Slowly, you undo the button and tug the fabric down over his hips. Sylus moves just enough to help you, kicking them off before settling back against you. Black boxer. Sexy. You bite your lips when your eyes fall on the the bulge you've been wanting to see for so long. Is pressing hard against the fabric, you can see the size and then the wet stain off precum.

Even is Sylus love to see you in you beautiful set, and would love to contemplate you more. His cock is starting to hurt, and your lascivious gaze on his good piece isn't making it any better. He puts his hand on your back again, without realising it your breasts are exposed. The bra...it doesn't matter.

He exhales loudly, he can't remember how many times he's wanted to undress you since he met you. His beloved, his heart, his curse, his everything. Make you his. Bite, lick, kiss, sweating together, feeling your pussy wet around his cock. Hearing his name while coming because of him. His mind races, each thought more urgent than the last. This is it. Finally. You’ve said yes, you’ve chosen him. You love him back, and it's everything he’s ever dreamed of. That thought ignites his desire even more, the last bit of restraint crumbling away in his mind.

His body presses against yours with a new intensity, and he can barely think past the feeling of you beneath him, in his arms.

His tongue licking over your nipple before enclosing his mouth around your breast. You whine softly, his heat radiating off you. One hand come over to your other nipple. His finger brush softly over it before squeezing it. You arch your back and whine again. The feeling of both nipple begin stimulated is making your pussy pulse in anticipation. You want him inside, now, fuck the foreplay. You're wet enough to take him in.

“Sy...” you want to say tell him, but bites down making you gasp, trailing off. You could come in any moment, you started to moan. Finally he lets one nipple free.

“So ready...” he whispers, fingers reaching your panties drenched. Sylus coos, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit to rub firm circles into the throbbing bud. You glare at him. His finger slipping beneath the fabric. Playing around you entrance, then one finger finds your warmth, you gasp loud at the sensation. At this point, your body is burning with need, every nerve begging for him. The motion of his finger, trying to find you sweet spot is driving you inside. You move you hips against his hand, trying to get more contact. He only laugh and lick again over you nipple.

A second finger is added, stretching you, you moan harder. His finger curls inside you and then...

“Sylus” you whimper, he hit you g-spot. A sharp wave of pleasure courses trough you again.

“That's it” he kiss you with hunger, while thrusting his finger inside you. You hold on his shoulder, opening wider you legs to give him more access. You don´t want to come, no yet, but if he continues like this. Sylus feels you tightness around his finger. Like he said, you not allowed to stop him. You moan and whine against his lips.

“I'm close...“ your words are a pleading gasp, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. He smirks, his pace unwavering.

“Don't hold back“ he growls, low and commanding. You feel the pressure building inside you, the tension prolong. His kisses paired with the feeling of his other hand on your hard nipple with the frenetic rhythm of the finger is way to much.

“Sy..” you voice breaks as the tension snaps and you come uncontrollably. You body shaking in waves of pleasure. Sylus's finger still inside dragging out the last bit of release. When your breathing begins to steady, he withdraws them. His face is buried in you neck, his breath hot on your skin.

“I want to hear more of that.” Before you can even think of a reply, Sylus removes you panties and then his boxers. You gasp when you see his cock standing hard, long and thick. You bite your lips, you want to have it... Sylus stroke his cock his eyes not leaving yours. “Is time for the main course.”

He positions himself between your legs again, running his fingers over your entrance again before placing his cock. You moan as he thrusts his cock between your folds, slowly. He is so big. Your eyes flutter close, taking all the sensation in. Is overwhelming. Sylus gasp too when his cock is half way inside.

„Breath for me“ Sylus whispers, his breathing is growing heavier by the second, forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting his cock into you too hard. You try to relax your walls, you breathe out.

"Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good. His thumb stroke your cheek, and place a soft kiss on your lips. He started to move, softly to adjust in the new sensations, of being inside of you. For the first time in lifetimes. Sylus breath is uneven, hips rocking into you. Nails clawing down his back as you try to steady yourself, his face against your neck, growling, no, moaning lowly. Harder.

“Sy..Sylus” you moan. “More...”

“As you wish." He shifts and his cock hits you deeper, setting fireworks on in your brain while you moan so loud, that you swear the other in the dinning room could have hear you.

“Right... there.” Sylus smiles, capturing your lips once more in a hungry, passionate and deep kiss. Your tongues play, licking each other. The desire you feel is far beyond what you've ever felt with anyone. You feel like you could devour him, a violent thought that might even make you want to shoot him again. Tear out his heart of his chest. You discard the violent idea of hurting him.

You hug him closer with you legs, his cock slamming in a delicious rhythm. The lascivious sound that emanates through the silence of the room, the rustle of the sheet under your skin, the slight creaking of the bed as Sylus thrust his cock inside you, a symphony that you wish would not stop.

Each movement, each shift of his body against yours, sends a wave of heat through him, making it harder to stay composed. His muscles tighten with every gasp and every whimper that comes from you. Your fingers pulling at his silver hair, it's like adding fuel to the fire. And when you react, when you respond to him, it sends a surge of satisfaction and longing that almost overwhelms him. Sylus knows he’s on the edge, his cock twitch inside you, becoming even harder.

“Sy- Sylus,” you moan, pulling his head up to kiss him. He returns the kiss just as hungrily as you are. “Gonna cum...ah, pl..please”

“Come- come for me” he says brokenly. He pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck obediently, eyes closed to feel the comfort of his skin, losing yourself in it. Sylus groans. You squeeze him. You feel the orgasm bubbling inside you, the tension before the sweet fall. You want to hold on to it. “Come with me...” You open your eyes. What did he said? You meet his glowing red eyes. He pick up the pace, intensity growing inside him. Hammering into you g-spot at every thrust. You hold onto him and the sheets even tighter. A little more, just a little more.

“Can I...?” he started, driving into you more and more, near to explode in any second.

“Yes... please...” you nod eagerly. “I...” As if you had uncorked a shaken bottle of champagne, the orgasm reaches you in a bliss. Your body shakes and trembles. A few seconds later, Sylus follows you with a long growl, pressing his lips against yours, sharing that sweetly overwhelming moment. His hot cum spreads inside you, Sylus doesn't stop, he continues to move inside of you slowly. His lips pull away and he leans his forehead against yours,

When you open your eyes, the adoration in your stare was so palpable. He intertwining his fingers with yours, guiding your hand towards him, leaving a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

You two stay silent, breathing still ragged and coming out in bursts. For some reason, you still feel heat, desire in your body. It hasn't been enough. You want more. As if he could read your mind, Sylus smiled.

“We can do this as long as you like, kitten,” he says, his voice a gentle, warm promise. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words.

The night stretches on, the two of you lost in each other, pausing only briefly to share sips of the forgotten wine on the table. One by one, the candles burn out and with that a new day begins.

Your mind drifts, basking in the warmth of the memories from the passionate night. For a moment, you forget that you never told him how you truly feel—but that’s alright. There’s time, you remind yourself with a small, hopeful smile. This is just the beginning, and you know deep down that there are countless moments ahead to share your heart with him.

Exhausted but content, you fall into a peaceful sleep in Sylus’s arms. He stays awake a little longer, watching you with a soft, almost reverent gaze, his heart full. Only when the first light of morning filters into the room does he finally close his eyes, holding you close as sleep overtakes him.

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