#on her own within her trauma
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thank you loris for serving ur entire purpose of having vi briefly hallucinate vander in ur place
#arcane tag#it's like. making me think a lot about how they got their dad back after being on their own for so long#or well jinx had silco and technically has sevika and now has/had vi to protect her so she wasn't totally on her own beyond#on her own within her trauma#but with vi she hasn't had anyone to protect her since losing vander#she lost her parents time and time again#and then i guess she did end up with cait taking the shot to protect her in s1#and now she does have ppl like loris i guess but getting vander back#and having vander actively protect his daughters again#rly puts into perspective how alone vi is on that level#idk i just dont know if jinx or vi ever got unconditional love from anyone besides vander (and their bio parents probably)#and i guess one another to an extent#there is something to caitvi evolving into this just complicated politics happening around them#im all out of braincells i cried them out idk#also maybe something to jinx no longer wanting to be protected bc she sees what happens when people do look out for her??#so freeing vi of that even though... girl no <3333#maybe that's her way of protecting her but ough
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Ouhhhh friendship I love friendship……..
#I’m reading volumes 14-16 of the ouran manga OOUGHHH MY HEART#I love this weird little friend group so much its unreal#like u have this charming sweeps you off your feet prince but he’s actually a huge lovable idiot with a kind heart and his friends#who are all misfits that he reached out to and drew in because of his kindness and own weirdness like that shits TIGHT BRO#and the trauma part where he has some deep seated issues with love bc he thinks that itll break a family apart like with his mom#how his family isnt allowed to be together because his mom and dad fell in love and how he says he wants to build a big house#so that way one day everyone will get along as a family like. all he wants is not to lose everyone and the only way to do that is#by maintaining a certain order.. he both wants a complete family so bad and doesnt want anything to sour between anyone#so he assigns each of his friends a family role based on how he sees them and YEAH its mostly played for giggles and tamakis#already weird so its his way of showing theyre close to him but. god damn this boy has LAYERS#it also feels kinda meta towards how found family tends to get thrown around to assign characters as 'siblings' or family roles instead of#using it to describe characters who are close enough to be each others family. cuz tamakis doing that EXACT THING in a way tht#ties in with his character and i have to say its fascinating using that within the story itself and its completely plausible#theres a lot of things i can say about ouran that are good bad and questionable but. god i love it when characters are niceys to each other#i remember i really liked the mall episode bc kyoya and haruhi got to spend time together and their relationship isnt very close#but it was really nice to see their personalities bounce off each other. i think i also wouldve liked to see haruhi alone with kaoru#i also firmly believe all of the hosts are at least a little in love with haruhi and this can be anything like endearing romantic cuz like#who DOESNT love haruhi. kyoya i think would want to study her under a microscope like his fascination with her draws him in#but im fucking obsessed with whatever haruhi and tamaki have going on because YES hes obsessed with her YES he jumps at the chance to#put her in a cute costume but haruhi? she just fucking goes with it because she knows hes fun to be around even if hes a little wacky abt i#theyre all so. NNGGHHHH#ouran#ohshc#yapping
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I’m gonna sound like such a bitch saying this but reading Rebel Girl and seeing the depth and breadth of Kathleen Hanna’s feminism makes it so evident how corporate and capitalized a lot of contemporary artists’ feminism is…especially their unwillingness to get into intersectional aspects.
#i mean she acknowledges her own trauma AND privilege within a paragraph of each other#they engage with feminism as a product or accessory not a movement#battie signals
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I think I accidentally made Wriothesley AuDHD. fuck
#ingital#did you know there's a bit in ingital i cut out where he tells Neuvillette they have to go get their kids tested. it's cut out of the carol#and vautrin scene. because I wanted to recontextualise carole's canon story as like about her social ostracisation because she's#a weird little girl with a very strong sense of justice (autistic like her dad lol). and I wanted it to just be a family moment where#wriothesley just very casually suggests getting their kids tested to see if they need additional support. and its just because i wanted it#to be seen as a very normal. even slightly positive moment (carole you're just like your papa!). because . you dont often see an autism#diagnosis as a Normal thing. much less a silly fun thing. and Ingital is silly fun the fic#the thing is. I specifically sat down and told myself. I'm gonna write a neurotypical man because not every single guy in my fic has to be#neurodivergent. when I write wriothesley it's usually more about trauma cptsd and high functioning depression anyway.#but I am autistic. even my trauma/depression/mentally ill experience is viewed through autistic lens. which is why im like#I should learn how to write a neurotypical man right. this is so dire. because what if i CANT. GOD#severe trauma does things to your neurotype anyway so he's Not Neurotypical but GODDDDDDDDDDD I made the fucking. disorganised#basement dwelling tech nerd gag in the latest chapter. and I FORGOT THAT THAT'S TIPPING INTO AUDHD TROPES/STEREOTYPES.#I know this had potential to go into audhd territory from Day 1 when I decided he fucking dwells on stack exchange#but i told myself. well. just because he's a nerd and highly intelligent doesn't mean he's audhd. right. because if he still#has relatively normal sensory experiences (outside of ptsd/other mental illness symptoms) and is still within normal range of organisation#then he's not audhd. because the difference between audhd disorganisation/dysregulation and similar symptoms in depression/other illnesses#IS THAT HE'S STILL GONNA BE DISORGANISED WHEN HE'S NOT DEPRESSED!!!!!!! And he's not depressed in his little basement enclosure.#that . level of happy chaos. is exactly how he naturally operates when he's allowed to do what he wants. I fucking made him audhd AGAIN#and he even has his own extremely strange way of naming files.
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I'm going to be bitching about Star for a while now. I'll tag them all with #asc spoilers, but really what the fuck was this book?
#morningtalks#asc spoilers#The biggest flop I've ever seen in the history of everything#How could you even fail this so badly? Where did you think these were good ideas?#The Icestar thing I'm personally miffed about because I genuinely wanted Froststar. Not for her happiness but because she's the only cat#Who felt like she had a bit of a REASON to be leader#Look for the less obvious choices. Makes a senior warrior they ALREADY CONSIDERED leader#While she was off on a whole other adventure in Another Book You Gotta Buy Now To Know What Icewing Was Up To#While the Real Plot Was Happening#Splashtail is dead already when she arrives#Do these fucking morons really just sit on their asses AGAIN up until Icewing arrives/Frostpaw wakes up?#Timeskips of hell. I hate it here#Berryheart's death is also one I am FURIOUS about#Woman Died For Her Daughter So Now She's Good and All Her Family Mourns Her#They really had to go Redemption Death for the most radioactive piece of garbage in existence#She spent THE ENTIRE ARC being an absolute shithead berating her son/trying to KILL her own daughter-in-law#Manipulating (or at least trying to) Sunbeam. Plotting against Tigerstar within and outside of ShadowClan#Was fully into the plan to trap Tiger and co ''because then she could fix ShadowClan herself and get River out''#This fucking book I swear I hate it so deeply#How do you fail such an arc?#How idiotic do you have to be to not let Sunbeam (and Spireclaw) deal with their rancid mother once and for all?#Why does Sunbeam still Love Her So Much after everything?#(okay I know Trauma and Parents and growing up within odd situations and how you still kinda love them)#But Berryheart was a Problem the entire arc#Why?#It is really just because Berryheart is Mom and this Has The Mom Instinct still?#You let some rando horrendous man kill his own daughter in SkyClan's destiny by accident. Why can't Sun and Berry fight?#I wanted some horrific death for Berry. One that would haunt Sunbeam for a long time and maybe if needed cement her choice#To not return to ShadowClan because it hurts#Yes I wanted SUNBEAM to kill Berryheart (or at the very least Spireclaw)
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This video about the set design for Phantom of the Opera has me thinking about design engineering, and how it contrasts with regular engineering, and how that demonstrates the contrast in design philosophies between the Sheikah/Princess Zelda and Ganondorf himself.
The Sheikah design philosophy revolves around their spiritual idea that destiny governs everything, that everything was created with a purpose. To that end, the things they designed tended to be very pragmatic and illustrative. The Shrines themselves were designed with this ethos, each building being built for a specific purpose first and foremost. The decorations of their buildings were mostly focused on reproducing the world and cosmos in microcosm, not as something that distracts from the building’s intended purpose, but in order to explain to viewers in the know how this particular structure fits into Hylia’s Grand Design. Zelda herself is very pragmatically minded, attempting to reverse-engineer this ancient technology, or at least understand how it works well enough to reproduce it. She can be a very passionate, emotional person, but she’s not so hung up on aesthetics or trying to figure out “what it all means,” just “how does this work?” No frills, no artifice, just straightforward and to the point.
Contrast that with Ganon. After hearing a bunch of theorists describe Calamity Ganon as something akin to Puppet Ganon from Wind Waker, it clicked into place for me. Ganon is a set design engineer, rather than just a guy working in a workshop to build machines like the Royal Research Lab. His creations weren’t just built to fulfill a purpose, but to communicate something. The purpose his creations serve, while important, is secondary to that desire to communicate a concept, to produce a specific effect in his audience, even if the only thing he wanted to communicate was his contempt for Hyrule and its people.
“The Calamity” is a coup de theatre: this great big spectacle designed to produce a specific impression in the people of Hyrule. In this case, the desired impression was mass panic. Ganon purposefully obfuscated his methods in order to give the impression that “Calamity Ganon” was this vast, incomprehensible force of nature that could not be predicted or countered. Once you start seeing what he’s working with, as you start making connections between the Malice and whatever that ectoplasmic substance the Ultrahand is working with actually is, the actual mechanisms he used turn out to be relatively simple. He just relies on optical illusions and hiding his tricks in order to make things seem more vast and terrifying than they actually are, like how Bjornson used foreshortening to make the chandelier look like this perfect reproduction of the Garnier opera house’s chandelier when it was actually just a flat oval that could fit in the tiny theater and wasn’t as much of a pain for the stagehands to transport, raise, and lower as a perfect 1:1 scale reproduction would’ve been.
And then with Ganon’s takeover of the Guardian tech, he injects this design philosophy into the stuff he’s working with. A lot of what makes the Possessed Guardians so scary is the musical/sound cues associated with them, as well as their body language that suggests a cold, driven, purposeful hostility. Without that, they’re just big goofy buckets with legs. Just compare the Guardian you see in the castle flashback that’s unaccompanied by the iconic, anxiety inducing heartbeat of the “Guardian” music, being gently prodded along in a certain direction by soldiers with the Guardians you’d see patrolling Central Hyrule 100 years later. Ganon doesn’t just want an ambulatory robot that shoots lasers. He wants his war machines to intimidate, to terrify, to make their targets so scared that they freeze in fear (and coincidentally become much easier to hit). The Blights, too, were designed with this aesthetic of fear in mind. They’re also designed to suggest Ganon’s present, even if the artist himself is technically absent.
The desired effect is to establish the omnipresence and frightfulness of Ganon himself, to terrorize his targets, and to communicate his general contempt. He is concerned with the aesthetics of power, as opposed to just having impressive weapon specs. The Guardians by themselves are already potentially dangerous and destructive, as all weapons of war are, but Ganon needs to take it further, injecting his personality into each one he touches to turn them into a tool of communicating his will in addition to just weapons he tries to use to destroy Link/Zelda.
In summary, their general philosophies are like this:
The Sheikah: This is the world, this is how it works. Everything was made to serve a purpose, and this building, too, has a purpose. It was built to fit into this grand cosmic design we depict on its walls.
Ganondorf: I Want These Cretins To Pee Themselves In Terror When They Gaze Upon My Works. Let Them Hate Me, So Long As They Fear Me.
#long post#legend of zelda#loz thoughts#totk spoilers#totk thoughts#botw#totk#ganondorf#the sheikah#princess zelda#i have been listening to lingua ignota's 'caligula' again and that was one of the things that's got me thinking about#the aesthetics of power#and in particular how that factors into abuse and trauma and reactions to trauma#with regards to ganondorf and the nature of his lashing out against hyrule as implied by his japanese speech#and how lingua ignota herself depicts her response to abuse as coopting those aesthetics of power#in order to communicate her rage and grief and retake control of her own body and agency#the bombastic speech of 'butcher of the world' set against the backdrop of the sample of wendy carlos' score for clockwork orange#as opposed to the more hushed intimate 'deathdealer' that uses the exact same lyrics but communicates something more intimate#this juxtaposition of power and rage versus grief and vulnerability within the same character as they try to process their trauma#that i find really interesting
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in the middle of reading the new wind excerpt and god. oh my god. someone sedate me
#AGHHHHHH frostpaw. my baby :(#she spent a wholeeee book building up her courage to approach and accept what actually happened to her and her mother and her clan#she spent a whole book recovering and coming to terms with and understanding what she had to do#she spent a whole book preparing herself to save her clan and prove herself and it just Blows Up In Her Face within one gathering. crying#and the way splashtail just undermines her right in front of her clan?? telling them she must be psychotic or having a breakdown of somesor#that she must be confused and lost and hurt over her mother’s death and how they can’t trust what she says because of that#babying her in front of everyone right to her face. fucked up man#i mean she is Baby but i believe she is actually full grown by this point and is at the age where she would usually be made full medicineca#it’s just. god. everyone not trusting her. everyone throwing accusations at her. everyone not even giving her the time of day#so messed up!!! i’m going to go cry about it now bye#YES i’m getting emotional over a series meant for 6th graders leave me alone!! /hj#delete later#but like man. everyone in her clan rejected her. even her own family?? her siblings???? MOTHWING????#i know they can’t really do anything and riverclan wants stability but. man she’s just a baby. she’s still an apprentice cut her some slack#at least frostpaw will be with shadowsight#they can bond over their shared trauma of being led on by someone and getting almost killed by said someone#….weird how that happened twice within two arcs#inherently doomed medicine cats my beloveds. you are everything to me and you deserve so much better god damnit#listen i loved what the erins did with bristlefrost last arc but they cannot do that to me again#good on them for being brave and killing off a protag but no!!! not with these ones this time!!!!!#anyway
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Currently resisting the urge to blackmail my father into therapy
#At this point I’ve almost said “well if you don’t talk about your Jehovah’s Witness trauma with someone; I will#because yours is directly related to mine due to having vented on me about it since I was six”#I’ve almost said it ten times within the past hour#exjw#And this is the congregation he thought was our family’s eternal salvation from my apostacy. Ha!#“Jehovah is guiding us here” Jehovah didn’t do shit for you except give you PTSD-induced gout and kidney stones; come off it#Get out of her my people#I’m not even sorry for him. What the elders said to him wasn’t his fault; but he 100% got himself into this mess#for my benefit (to strike the fear of god into his disgusting homosexual sinning boygirl daughter with raging hormones)#And his homophobic rant he went on… please just call me a faggot#I’m having it out with him before I go for no other reason but my own satisfaction#ex cult#”I can’t talk to a worldly therapist because they won’t want to worship Jehovah when someone preaches to them”#Why — pray tell — will they react in that way? Because it’s a cult#Cult: spelled “C-U-L-T.” You didn’t listen to the content of my diaries (which you read against my will) and now you’re suffering#Play stupid games win stupid prizes#He’s the most traumatized out of the two of us as a direct result of him trying to “fix” me…#also because I don’t keep touching a hot stove after it burns me. JWs are a toxic cult; so I no longer believe them#My mental health is better as a result#I have worldly comfort media and I swear liberally (which is proven to soothe physical pain)#I’ve accepted myself as queer. I’ve accepted my dark tastes in music and media.#I’ve started doing something with my life to get out ASAP.#Life isn’t good but it’s gotten better once I changed my mindset and stopped being a close-minded homophobic asshole#Just because a couple gay guys were creepy towards you doesn’t mean they’re all like that#Straight guys have been creepy towards me and I never said I wished death upon all straight men#A creep is a creep is a creep; sexuality doesn’t make you a creep — being creepy makes you a creep
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How your muse handles pain and/or trauma.
1) when reacting to extreme pain or trauma (inflicted on THEMSELVES) your muse feels: helpless | angry | afraid | shocked | defeated | detached | unreal | nothing
2) when reacting to extreme pain or trauma (inflicted on OTHERS) your muse feels: helpless | angry | afraid | shocked | defeated | detached | unreal | nothing
3) in a life-and-death situation, your muse would: save themselves first | risk their life for someone else | risk their life only for someone they care about
4) has your muse done any of the things mentioned in the third question (above) and regretted it? yes | no | it's complicated
5) has your muse ever: lost a loved one | lost a family member | personally seen someone close to them die | been in a war
6) regarding past trauma, your muse is: indifferent to it | sensitive about it | keeping it bottled up | insecure about it | afraid of others finding out about it | accepting of it
stole it off the dash, go for it :]
#'trauma' is really vague here#her emotional state is like. shes not an individual within the dominion not really so she doesnt have / recognize her own emotional? trauma#and then later on ds9 i mean#she has no tools but her instinct is to talk abt things and dissect them as objectively as she can#so shes fascinated and ends up handling it p well i think gfdjk#salute me sentry hollyhock. [ about. ]#and then of course. character evolution so some of this changes
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i have an skk (ish?) story in my head.
idk if i should write it as a fic or draw it into a series,,, i prefer drawing it—my drawing skills, however, are shit. if i DO write it,,,i don’t think it will get engagement bc it technically includes romance but that's not it's core and i myself prefer reading fanfiction for the lovey dovey sweet moments and not to feel awful so what now 😭😭😭😭
#one more thing: in this story mori is not demonized so yeah i might get attacked T — T#i want it to be a character-study-ish story.#i wanna imbue my experiences into it and not all of them are. well. pleasant.#i want to write dazai in this specific family dynamic: knowing he was not straight since 11. being a pastor’s child in a small town.#to have the knowledge that ur mother has her own traumas bc of motherhood being a wife and a child herself#yet knowing too that she's hurting you irreparably and the conflict this creates within you#how it is to love people u dont like#i want bpth him and chuuya to deal with (separate) betrayals. with growing old unprepared. with the vulnerability that an honest#human connection requires.#and u know other not so comfortable or sweet shit#i want to study mori’s character in this story too. ANDDD chuuya bc i typically see him conjoined w dazai i wanna see him in a separate lig#i want them to have stories before their stories converge#AAARGGHH CAN U SEE THAT IM BEING TORTURED BY THIS OH MY GOD#i wanna study yosano and sigma and nikolai and fyodor ARGGHHGH#i wanna study them through a story#but the story i wanna create has zero demand 😭
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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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The first year I had Emily, I learned to put my finger in front of her nose every few pets. If she moved to touch her nose to my finger, I could pet her a little bit more. If she stayed absolutely still, she'd bite me within the next few pets.
It took a long time for her to be willing to share softer signs of discomfort, like lashing her tail or making noise, before she escalated into attacking my hand.
Or maybe not "willing" so much as... literally able? I might be reading too much into it, but I got Emily as a year-old cat who'd been living on the streets for part of her life, when I was at the underemployed end of the grad school program that never ended, a therapist with nobody to therapize, so I ended up looking at her as a survivor of trauma and bringing therapeutic perspectives and techniques to the table. Some of which are about how we have to actually learn to understand and recognize our own internal states, especially because when we're living in fight-or-flight, that goes way down on our brains' priority lists most of the time.
So it might have taken her a while to be able to understand that petting felt nice but also overstimulating, so while she could enjoy it, it also caused that buildup of discomfort, and she could do something about it that wasn't biting.
All of which is just the context necessary for me to say, today she crawled into my lap and rested her chin in my palm, and demanded via headbutts that I just keep continuously scritching her jaw, for 20 minutes straight.
We've come a long way, babygirl.
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One of the really insidious ways black people in media get treated is that despite our stereotypes expanding outside of "thug" "slave" and "prostitute", we are still very limited on *what* we can be portrayed as.
It is no shock to me that the two black women in Veilguard, for instance, are either medium toned like myself or a nonhuman skin color (introduced as a woman). It doesn't escape my attention that the only black woman in Baldur's Gate list of companions is also a nonhuman skin color. Dark skinned black women are still considered too unattractive to include as potential romanceable candidates, as it *also* does not escape my attention that the darkest we've had was Vivienne who was simultaneously regarded as an incredibly unlikeable character by huge swaths of the fandom and also unavailable for romance.
But moreover- why can't the bubbley nerdy cute mage be a black woman? Why can't the shy but resourceful archer be a black woman? Why does the black woman have to be someone with their guard up, walls as high as a skyscraper, cynical and callous? Why can't the black woman be the warm and loving Wynne, or the somewhat naive yet devout Leliana? The stalwart and just Aveline? I know plenty of Isabelas, and Viviennes, and Neves, and Taashs, but I also know plenty who are Merrill, or Bellara*, or Harding, or Cassandra, and I even lived with a Sera for a while. Why can't she be Bethany or Morrigan?
The closest we had was Josephine, who again is still fairly light skinned, but at least she has a bit more flexibility. And she isn't a companion, so her screen time is fairly minimal if you're not taking the time to romance her.
*And I don't begrudge Bellara too much, as A: I adore her and B: I'm pretty sure she's our first visibly Asian companion which is a milestone in itself. My point is more that Bellara could be black with virtually no story change because I know plenty of bubbly chirpy friendly black women who have a deep love of their hobbies and interests, who are bisexual and even prefer women, with deep trauma in their pasts, and yet the choice to *not* do that speaks to a problem the media has in their depiction of black women that is far bigger than Bioware.
And it doesn't escape my attention that the men have this problem as well- Wyll and Davrin* are both regarded as boring by their respective fandoms due to the choice to play it safe and stick with the extremely good and upright and just knight character instead of giving them something more messy- Astarion and Lucanis could be black with, as said, little-to-no change in their storyline because I know-even have dated- pansexual former sex worker black men with intensely complicated feelings about sex and intimacy, and I've had plenty of ex-con soft yet dangerous men holding themselves at a distance to prevent themselves from hurting anyone as my friends and even extended family.
I know plenty of intensely nerdy and probably autistic black guys who will infodump gladly about their special interest to the point of it consuming them. I know plenty of black guys with martyr complexes who think they have to tear the world- and themselves- apart just to fix what is broken in this world. I know plenty of black guys who, despite their own inability to get their shit together, are like a port in a storm every time you talk to them. I know plenty of black guys who are extremely educated and well respected within their field, with gentle yet commanding demeanor. Any of these characters *could* be black, and yet they aren't, and the choice to do so is again far bigger than Bioware and Larian.
*Davrin, like Vivienne, being the darkest and first blatantly black male companion instead of potentially able to be ambiguously "of color" like Zevran, Fenris, and Dorian. Even more damning that they'd considered, like Sera, making Solas blatantly black in his concept art and instead chose to make him a pale egg.
As someone desperate for representation, it becomes quickly obvious as I take inventory of what roles black people are given that we still aren't considered as complex and nuanced and interesting. We're allowed to be more than we were before, but we still have a long way to go.
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Til The Sun Turns Black
SYNOPSIS: Your soul is bound to his and you're destined to follow him across the multiverse. When the TVA finds you and sends you to the Void, you feel your chance of finding him has slipped through your fingers. But what you find there is more than you bargained for.
PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader
WC: 13.1 k I apologize for nothing
WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni, mentions of drinking, angst, peril, some fluff, implied age gap (I guess?), mental trauma, miscommunication, Wade being Wade, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, cock warming, sex with feelings, unprotected p in v
A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Soft Edges! I was not expecting that kind of response when I posted that story, so thank you <3. I had the idea for this story in my head since after I first saw the movie. I had no idea my one random runaway thought would turn into this. Also, this story would not have been finished if it weren't for @joelsgoldrush. She let me tease her for WEEKS with this and act as the ultimate sounding board. And she's overall just a delightful human being and I'm so glad I've found her.
The TVA agent sits staring at you, an odd and uncomfortable smile on his face. Like he isn’t quite sure he knows how to smile but had seen it once on TV. You also don’t think he’s blinked in the past several minutes. It makes your eyes water just thinking about it.
“I don’t understand why I’m here.”
“Ah, yes, well—“ the agent clears his throat and smoothes a hand down his chest. “You’re a threat to the multiverse.”
You squint your eyes at him and wonder if you’re lucid dreaming. Or trapped in some bizarre fever dream, but you can’t remember being sick. “The…multiverse? As in, more than one universe?”
He nods once. “Precisely.”
It’s your turn to stare as absolutely none of this is making sense. The morning had started off normal—wake up, shower, coffee at your favorite local corner store. You had barely finished your latte when you were apprehended and taken to this bland room by a man who must own insane stock in eyedrops.
“You see, we’ve been watching you for quite some time,” he continues, oblivious of your growing confusion. “A handful of reincarnations, actually. And we believe we’ve finally pinned it down.”
His words sound insane.
You were a low level mutant at best. You’ve been able to deeply sense and influence emotions in others since you were six—a standard empath if there ever was one. But reincarnation?
“Reincarnations? I’m sorry but—”
You feel it coming then, that all too familiar prickle of deja vu creeping up your spine and setting deep in your brain. The room begins to soften, the corners blurring and you feel disjointed, separate from the you sitting in the chair.
“Ah, see. We’ve pinned it down.”
The world tilts on its axis and your mind explodes into brilliance, the memories of hundreds of alternate versions of yourself firing down your synapses, leaving you as raw and exposed as a fresh wound. The pain is all consuming as you gasp for air and desperately try to quell the throbbing in your skull.
Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload.
“You see? You have extensive knowledge of the multiverse. And that kind of knowledge is coveted and dangerous.”
Your vision blurs as the memories keep slamming into you and you can’t help the primal scream that rips from your lungs, the pain in your throat a welcome distraction from the torture in your head. And then, amid the chaos, a single figure emerges in crisp focus, a face you’ve seen thousands of times.
“Logan.” His name comes out in a whisper, your voice trembling.
You know he’s not actually in front of you and instead a mirage, a figment of your overloaded neurons, but his presence calms you.
“Yes, Logan. You two are quite fond of each other.” The agent stands and you squint up at him, wanting to be anywhere else as you regain your memories. “But never mind him. We can’t have you traipsing around with all that knowledge in your head.”
“No, no, no, please. Please just let me find him,” you beg, hating the desperation laced in your voice.
The last thing you see before being sent out of existence is his creepy, uncanny smile.
+++
The Void was bullshit.
It had been a month since you were unceremoniously dumped here.
Maybe.
You weren’t really sure.
Time had no meaning, each day seeming to stretch on for eons and simultaneously in the blink of an eye. And for every single one of those moments you’d been focused on one of two things: finding a way out and not dying.
You quickly learned you had a better chance at survival if you stuck to the outskirts and avoided others. So you squirreled yourself away, sheltering in an abandoned cabin and hoping beyond hope you could figure out a way out of the desolate cesspool you found yourself in.
Figure out a way back to him.
Back home.
+++
You don’t venture out unless you have to.
The Void is full of phantom emotions left behind by its previous inhabitants and the cacophony overwhelms you. Rage, terror and despair so thickly envelope every surface you feel like you’re choking. It’s beginning to wear so harshly on your nerves you wonder if you might actually go insane here.
There was a tension growing in the Void. You’d heard whispers of unrest within the factions, Cassandra hungry for something to sink her teeth into. The undercurrent of rage has increased in the last couple of days and it’s enough to set your teeth on edge.
Stuffing a backpack with a few essentials in case you get stranded, you ready yourself for a supply run. The thought of leaving the perceived safety of your cabin has little appeal, but you’ve been putting it off for far too long. There was a small cache only a few miles from your cabin that other survivors kept stocked with extra provincials. You were hoping for something good, anything other can canned food or cereal. Or Spam.
Tightening the straps on your backpack, you take one last glance around before stepping out into the forest. It’s eerily quiet, no birds or animals chattering to fill the silence, just the crunch of your shoes against fallen leaves. The Void has always felt oppressive to you, the air just a little too heavy, but there’s something lingering today that makes you feel on edge. Your skin prickles with anticipation and you pat your belt for the knife you’ve stashed there.
Just in case.
You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view.
Your breath hitches in your throat.
You’d recognize those claw marks anywhere.
Your heart races as your eyes trace the deep, jagged cuts gouged into the metal and the large swathes of blood coating the ground and what you can see of the interior of the van. Instinctively your hand tightens around the hilt of your knife and you crouch down low behind a fallen log. You scan the area for any signs of movement and find none, but you know Logan is stealthier than you and wouldn’t give up his location willingly.
The van door creaks open on its battered hinges and you inhale sharply as Logan stumbles out of the vehicle covered in dried blood and sweat and more knife wounds and bullet holes than you can count.
The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain.
Shaking your head, you push down the memories and peer back over the log. A slight breeze wafts through the air and you watch as he sniffs, his head turning in your direction.
“Fuck,” you curse lowly, trying to crouch further out of eyesight.
You hear the metallic snikt of his claws and your pulse quickens. There’s no point in hiding—he knows you’re there. You take a slow, steady breath before attempting to focus waves of calm in his direction, hoping to ease some of the anger wound around him.
His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and predatory and he shakes his head, trying to keep you out. “Who the fuck’re you?”
You draw back your power and raise your hands in surrender as you slowly rise to your feet. You toss out your name and silently hope for a spark of recognition. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet.
“It’s not safe out here alone,” you start, moving out of your hiding place. You walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. “There’s a cache just up ahead—”
The atmosphere shifts without warning, the anger you’d felt previously now melting into thick, cloying fear and desperation. You can taste the ozone and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end as electricity sizzles across the sky. Glancing up, you see the dark, swirling mass of Alioth just beginning to form.
You look at Logan, panic racing along your nerves. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but I know you, Logan, and right now I need you to trust me.”
Alioth’s presence is getting stronger and drawing closer, and every drop of tension and rage swirling within is beginning to weigh down on you, threatening to suffocate you.
Logan’s eyes narrow, but there’s a slight twitch in his jaw and you know he’s considering your words. His claws retract, but his muscles remain tense, coiled and ready to attack. You grab for his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard muscle beneath your fingers. “We have to go. Now.”
For a moment, you think he might resist. But then with a low curse, he follows you, his stride matching yours as you lead him towards the cache. The trees blur by, the wind picking up and beginning to toss leaves and loose branches into the air.
You’re operating on pure adrenaline and your heart pounds in your chest as you run, Alioth gaining speed and distance faster than either of you can move. Each gasp of air burns your lungs and your muscles ache with the effort of your sprint.
Still a quarter of a mile away from the cache, you know you won’t be able to outrun Alioth. The storm has consumed the sky, the sun diminished to twilight, as the thunder and groans loom ever closer. You turn towards Logan and yell, “It’s too close, we’re not gonna make it!”
Logan’s eyes flash with anger as you stop and turn towards the oncoming destruction. He grabs for your wrist, pulling you almost nose to nose. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “We can’t stop!”
His proximity briefly disarms you, his fierce gaze igniting something deep within you, but you don’t have time to dwell on those emotions. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I’m gonna try and calm it down.”
“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic.
You know every cell in his body is begging to fight, aching to release his claws and tear Alioth apart with his bare hands. But this isn’t something brute strength can subdue.
“Just trust me,” you plead, your eyes searching his for some indication that he believes you. “Please.”
His stare is hard, but eventually his eyes soften and he loosens his grip on your wrist. “Fine.”
Tearing your gaze from him, you turn back towards the storm, now a full blown maelstrom of anger and destruction hellbent on consuming you both whole. You exhale slowly, pushing your own emotions of fear and panic as far down as you can. Instead, you turn inward and concentrate on every feeling of peace, calm and stillness you’ve ever experienced and project it outwards. Waves of soothing energy pour from you, an almost ghostly aura emanating from you as your power continues to grow. Alioth continues to surge towards you, the wind now flattening trees to the ground and lifting debris high into the air.
The fight is excruciating, every cell in your body shaking with effort as you continue to project outwards, the sphere of your influence growing. When the two opposing masses collide, you’re almost knocked off your feet by the force. You’re vaguely aware of Logan beside you, claws unsheathing as he steps closer into your protective shield.
For a brief moment, you feel the power of the storm ebb before it seems to press into you harder. Your knees begin to buckle and your stance slips. “I…I don’t know if I can hold it!” you gasp.
Logan doesn’t run but instead moves closer, giving you one solitary nod. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, feel the doubt swirling behind them and yet he stays besides you, ready to fight.
His silent encouragement is enough.
You are not dying in the fucking Void.
Gritting your teeth, you continue to push. A guttural scream rips from your throat as black spots dot your vision and blood drips from your nose. You dig down, channeling every last drop of your energy into a final wave, extending yourself deep within the core of the storm.
The black of the storm begins to retreat and the wind begins to calm. As the first few beams of sunlight filter in through the treetops, your vision fades completely and the world goes black.
The last thing you feel is a pair of strong arms wrapping around you before your mind goes blissfully blank and unconsciousness claims you.
+++
You wake up in the cache.
Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming in through the broken windows. The light is soft, definitely not the early morning glow from before you left the comfort of your cabin and you wonder how long you were out. With a groan, you try to sit up. Your body is stiff, every muscle in your body aching with the effort you took to banish Alioth. Wincing, you swing your legs out of the makeshift bed, the effort taking your breath away and you can feel the sickly creep of nausea climb up your throat.
A low voice cuts through the haze. “Take it easy.”
Logan.
You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the light and find him sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as a bottle of whiskey hangs between his fingers. He takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“How long was I out?” you ask, your voice hoarse.
Logan doesn’t answer immediately. He reaches over at a box beside him and then rolls a water bottle towards your feet before he finally mutters, “A day.”
You accept the bottle with a nod of thanks. Taking a slow sip, you close your eyes as the liquid soothes your throat even as your body protests the movement. You’ve never used your powers to that degree before. Fuck, you didn’t even know you could. A perverse sense of pride licks at the edge of your exhaustion.
Lowering the bottle, you breathe deeply in an attempt to settle the nausea rolling in the pit of your stomach. You glance at Logan and find him watching you, his eyes sharp, calculating.
“You owe me some answers. You said you knew me.”
You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. After hundreds of encounters with different Logans, it was never easy explaining to him what you were. For a long time, you didn’t even have a name for it. All you knew was that your consciousness, all your memories, everything that you are moves across different universes and inevitably crosses paths with Logan. It always felt like an invisible string, guiding your soul to his.
“I’m a temporal nomad.”
Logan’s eyes narrow as he glares at you. “A temporal what?” His tone is laced with skepticism.
You take another sip of water, giving yourself time to gather your thoughts and push away the throbbing at your temples. “A temporal nomad. I don’t die, not in the way you think, anyway.”
Logan doesn’t move, but you see his grip tighten on the bottle in his hand, his knuckles going white. “You tellin’ me you’re immortal?”
“No, not immortal,” you reply, exhaling slowly. “When I die, my consciousness moves. I reincarnate in a different universe. Eventually I regain everything—my experiences, my memories, my feelings. It’s why—” you pause and take a deep, steadying breath. “It’s why I always find you.”
Your words hit their mark and Logan’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher—shock, disbelief, maybe some anger. He sits up straighter, tipping the whiskey bottle to his lips without breaking eye contact. “You always find me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “We’ve met before?”
“I’ve lost count of how many time, actually,” you admit softly. “But in every reality, every universe, I find you. And we’re not just friends, Logan.”
Your words linger in the air between you and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Logan stands suddenly, the now empty whiskey bottle clattering to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face, his jaw clenched as he paces within the small space. A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “This smells like bullshit, sweetheart.”
Your heart aches at his use of the word sweetheart. It’s one he’s always preferred for you, usually spoken with reverence, like a prayer falling from his lips. Except now it’s casual and cold, something with a sharp edge instead of softness.
“I know how crazy it sounds. Believe me, Logan, it took me several lifetimes to wrap my mind around it.” You stand, your legs wobbly with the effort and you wince against the pull in your spent muscles. “But I know you.”
His expression hardens. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know you. And if you really knew me, you’d know to stay the fuck away from people like me.” Logan’s pacing grows more hurried, his hands clenching into fists.
“I can’t,” you say softly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. “And I don’t want to. While I might not know the Logan in front of me or the nuances that make you different from the others, I know you.”
His nostrils flare and he lets out a low growl. “Stop.”
“I know the way you fight,” you continue, ignoring his warning. “I know the way you carry your pain as if no one else can possibly shoulder that weight. I know—”
“Stop!”
“—how you push people away to protect them, but that deep down you hope someone will push back. You may carry a lot of self loathing, Logan, but even you know you’re not heartless.”
Logan’s fist slams into the wall behind him, the sound reverberating in the small room. He stands there, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding from where they made contact with the rough wooden planks. You watch as the raw skin knits itself back together, his head hanging low.
His jaw clenches as he wipes the blood from his hands, his breathing still ragged and posture rigid, itching for a fight. He glances over at you, his expression softer but still rough.
“We’re done here,” he growls, but his voice soft, more broken than angry.
Logan turns without another word and all you can do is watch him leave.
+++
You spend the rest of the morning dozing in bursts of fitful sleep, your confrontation with Logan taking its emotional toll. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’re destined to wander this universe alone.
But you can’t think about it.
Not now.
Ignoring the ache in your limbs, you pack up what supplies you can and ready yourself for the walk back to your cabin. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, the world bathed in golden light, when you set out. Walking down the steps, you pause at the distant crunch of boots on the gravel. You feel your pulse thrum in your chest as the sound gets closer and then he steps into view, his eyes locking onto yours.
Logan.
The sight of him standing there fills you with a rush of conflicting emotions. Relief, angry, anxiety and you’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak first. He looks the same—tired, disheveled, but steady and strong all the same. Neither of you moves, unspoken words hanging between you.
“I shouldn’t’ve left,” he says finally.
For a moment you say nothing. Because it’s exactly what you want to hear from him. Except, because you’re beyond exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally, you say, “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.”
There’s definitely more bite in your tone than you intended, but the release of some of your pent up anger feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care.
Logan’s eyes narrow as you move past him and keep walking. “Wait, so I come back here to apologize,” he begins, following close behind you, “and now you’re gonna just walk away?”
“You know, you never even thanked me for saving your ass,” you say, side stepping a downed log. “Just started demanding answers and then tucked tail and ran when you didn’t like what I had to say.”
He grabs your wrist and you stumble into his grasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you stand almost chest to chest. “I didn’t fucking ask for any of this!”
His anger bleeds into you, curling around your skin where his fingers press into your pulse point. You feel your nostrils flare and you’re itching for something to hit as you stare up at him, his jaw clenched. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you know you need to reign in your emotions or you’ll ignite the fuse between you.
“You think I did?” you ask, pulling your arm from his grasp. Your voice is calmer, but just as sharp. “You think I want to relive the grief of mourning you over and over while also finding something new to love about you? You think I wanted to be banished to the Void all because my soul just can’t die when I do?”
Logan’s expression softens and he scrubs a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”
He seems weary, then, and any remaining anger you harbor towards him dies in your veins. You take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “You don’t have to understand right now. Just—just trust me. Please?”
You hate how your voice breaks just a little.
Logan nods then, the barest tilt of his head, but it’s enough.
He continues to follow you through the woods back towards the cabin and for a while neither of you speak. It should feel awkward, especially now, but it doesn’t. You’re so used to his brand of stubbornness and reluctance to see what’s right in his face that this is the most at home you’ve felt since you got here.
“So,” you start after a few minutes of silence, “how did you end up here?”
Logan huffs. “Some asshole in red spandex dragged me here and I said I need to help save his universe.”
“And can you?”
His step falters and you pause to look a him, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees. “I couldn’t save mine.” The weight of his words linger, heavy with a burden only he alone has been shouldering. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he brushes past you and keeps walking.
“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, catching up with him.
Logan growls. “No.”
“Alright, maybe later then,” you reply and he simply ignores you and keeps on walking. “Where’s this asshole friend of yours?”
“I left him tied up in the van.”
You had long passed the spot where you found Logan by the beat up van and the road was deserted. Based on the subtle smirk on his face, you figure Logan already knows that. Whatever his relationship is with the stranger, he seems somewhat happy to be rid of him and you don’t push him further. Although, you can’t help but wonder what happened to the van and whose hands it fell into.
Logan’s gait slows as the cabin comes into view through the trees. He follows behind you as you clear the space, checking for any stragglers that may have come along while you were gone. Pushing open the door, you watch as he looks around, taking in the small space.
“You’ve been living here?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it living, but sure,” you comment, throwing your backpack on the table as you sit down. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips as your muscles relax. “You can stay here if you want. I didn’t just let you follow me for your sparkling personality, you know.”
Logan actually laughs at that as he sits down on the small couch. His face lightens up, eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and for the first time since you found him, he seems unburdened. A blossom of hope grows in your chest and you grasp onto it, holding tight to the one bit of light you’ve had in this month of darkness.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
You know he means for more than the offer to stay and you return his smile with one of your own. “You’re welcome.”
As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, you bring out some extra blankets and a couple of pillows and help Logan turn the couch into a makeshift bed. You turn to leave when you hear him ask, “You really find me in every universe?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds terrible.”
You give him a small smile as you lean against the doorframe to the bedroom. “Oh, it’s not all that bad. I get to fall in love with you all over again.”
+++
You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of low, panicked growls coming from across the room.
You quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe towards the couch. Logan writhes beneath the sheets, pain etched across his face as he wrestles the demons in his sleeping mind. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself and focus every fiber of your power in his direction, hoping the waves of calm can break through whatever battle he’s fighting deep in the recesses of his mind.
Logan growls deep in his throat, the sound guttural and raw, his claws unsheathing and tearing at the sheets beneath him in agitation. A fine sheen of sweat beads along his brow and pieces of hair are plastered against his damp forehead.
“Logan,” you say softly, trying to break through the fog of his nightmare. “You’re safe, Logan.”
Your powers are waning, the stress of fighting off Alioth having left you depleted. You push down the ache, the tug in your brain demanding that you draw back, and instead kneel down in front of him, trailing your fingers across his palm and over the pulse point in his wrist. He jerks at your touch, his claws coming close to your skin, but the contact is enough and you feel his pulse slow beneath your fingertips.
You continue to speak in hushed tones, your voice barely above a whisper. “There you go, Logan. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
Logan’s breathing is ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. You can feel the tension in his body, his muscles rigid with the need for release. You keep your fingers against his wrist, your touch steady and calming, as you bring up your other hand to smooth the lines along his brow.
“There you go,” you continue to murmur, “Focus on my voice. Focus on my calm.”
Gradually, his growls subside and his breathing begins to even out as the nightmare loses its grip over him. His muscles lose their tension and relax and the frantic movements of his limbs subsides. With one final deep breath, he stills, his claws retracting and he settles back into a peaceful sleep.
You sit and watch him for a minute, taking in all of his features and simply admiring him for the first time since your last life with him. This Logan is different—they all are in their own way—but this one a little more than the others. He seems wearier, more worn down, his usual scowl lines etched deep. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes, too, you haven’t seen before and you wonder if this Logan actually ever rests.
As you stand, you feel his fingers circle loosely around your wrist and give a small tug. You look down to where he’s touching you, his skin hot against yours, and you glance up to find him staring at you through half lidded eyes.
“Stay.” It comes out in a low whisper and as you open your mouth to protest, he adds, “Please.”
You could never deny him in any universe.
The couch is barely wider than he is, yet he shifts to make a sliver of space for you to slot yourself into. It should be awkward, the way you press yourself between the couch and the solid warmth of his frame, but it’s not. You hitch your leg over his hip, forcing your legs to tangle, as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and comforting beneath your ear and you find yourself quickly relaxing into his touch.
As you fall asleep, you feel his arm curl around you, tucking protectively against your ribs.
+++
When morning breaks, you’re alone. The warmth of his body is gone and you find yourself shivering. Pushing to sit, you wrap a blanket around yourself before standing up.
The cabin is empty.
You try and ignore the sliver of panic that threatens to slip its way down your spine.
Opening the front door, you pause when you find him sitting on the dilapidated porch, staring absently out at the trees. He glances up at you and watches as you sit down beside him. You hug the blanket closer around your shoulders and sit with him in silence.
You don’t mention last night.
“So,” you start, “what’s the plan?”
Logan raises his eyebrow. “You planning on stickin’ with me?”
“If you let me,” you reply with a smile.
You listen as Logan explains the events of the past couple of days, including Wade’s abduction of him from his own universe and how they both became to be bloodied and battered in the van. Your ears perk up when he mentions Paradox and returning to Wade’s universe.
“You think he can actually get back?” you ask, willing yourself to not hold onto too much hope.
Logan huffs. “Probably not.”
“And yet you’re out here trying to think of a way to find him,” you say. “Why?”
A frown tugs at Logan’s mouth and he looks down at his hands. Eventually, he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a crumpled Polaroid. He tilts it towards you and you look down at the group or smiling people. “He’s got something to go home to,” he says, thumbing the edge of the photo. “I got nothin’.”
There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks down at the photo, some lingering hope he’s too afraid to put words to.
“I’m sure you have something, Logan,” you say quietly.
His expression hardens then, jaw tightening, as he slips the photo back in his pocket. “Had. Past tense.” Logan stands then and looks down at you. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.”
+++
You get ready quickly, changing your clothes and splashing water on your face before making sure your pack was sufficiently stocked. You were hoping you wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, but you didn’t want to express that thought out loud. Despite Logan wishing to go back to find Wade, you knew he wasn’t convinced this would end well.
Logan’s already started down the path as you jog down the cabin steps, swinging your pack up onto your shoulders. Catching up with him, you hand him the Pop-Tart you pulled out earlier. “Breakfast? They’re unfrosted, because this is the Void, but it’s something.”
He looks down at you, a strange expression on his face, but he accepts your offer. “Thanks,” he says, taking a bite.
“So, where exactly were you headed when you both decided to maul each other silly?” you ask, keeping pace with him as you walk through the woods.
“Johnny had mentioned a resistance out in the Borderlands,” Logan answers, swallowing the bite of Pop-Tart. “Figured we might find some people who could help us get control over Cassandra.”
You nod. “You’re not far from the Borderlands. Maybe four or so miles from he cache. I haven’t ventured out that far, but I’ve heard there’s a few outposts where others have hunkered down.”
“Then that’s where we go.”
You walk in comfortable silence, leaving Logan to his thoughts as you travel further away from safety and into the unknown. You stop at the cache briefly, pausing only snag a few water bottles before moving on.
A couple of miles past the cache, Logan suddenly stops, sniffing the air. His posture goes rigid, on alert as he slowly moves forward, beckoning you to follow him. A few yards away, the beat up van comes into view, parked alongside a lodging that looks as if it was built into the very earth itself.
Logan’s arm darts out, stopping you. “Stay close,” he commands quietly, stepping cautiously closer towards the structure.
You follow behind him, every sense on alert as you step inside. The place is quiet, but then you hear it—the soft rustle of snoring. And then Logan’s soft, “Ah, fuck me.”
Peering over his shoulder, you find a sleeping Wade spread eagle on the bed. Logan side steps the bed, ignoring the sleeping man, and begins rummaging through the place. Finding a bottle of whiskey, he groans in delight, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull.
“Really Logan?”
He quirks an eyebrow at you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What else would you like me to be doing?” he asks, biting.
“You came all this way to find him and now you’re gonna just drink?” you ask in disbelief. It gnaws at you, his indifference. You can feel little frissons of indignation licking at your skin and you have to tamp down your emotions before they bleed into him.
Logan shrugs. “He’s asleep. I ain’t draggin’ him anywhere.”
You cross your arms, glaring at Logan in frustration. “I didn’t follow you here to watch you stand around and get drunk. Wake him up.”
He gives you a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. You don’t relent, your stare pointed as he takes another long pull from the bottle. Muttering to himself, Logan makes his way over to the bed and gives it one swift, forceful kick.
Wade jolts awake with a loud, exaggerated snort. He looks between you and Logan, his eyes finally settling on you. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking around as if expecting an answer. “When did the script get rewritten?”
You look at him quizzically, your eyebrow raised. “Who are you talking to?”
Wade huffs. “The audience,“ he says, gesturing towards the wall.
“Does he do this often?” you ask Logan in a whisper.
“Hasn’t stopped since he fucking dragged me here,” Logan replies.
Your attention is diverted as Wade suddenly rolls from he bed, crossing the room and two large strides. He unsheathes one of his katanas, pressing himself against the wall and then he’s pinned on the ground as a woman pulls a blade of her own. After a moment, she lets Wade up and two more people follow into the room behind her.
Logan eyes each one with suspicion as introductions are made and you can feel the tension growing within him as he continues to drink.
You jump as Gambit uses one of his playing cards to burst the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s hands. Logan ignores your pleading look and Wade’s admonishment as he grabs another bottle with a soft, “Boo boo boo.”
When Laura enters, you feel Logan’s interest pique, something heavy weighing on him. They both look towards one another, taking each other in and you don’t miss the recognition in Laura’s eyes.
“Do you know her?” you ask Logan, sliding closer to him.
Logan shakes his head. “No. But Wade’s Logan does.” He takes another long drink from the bottle, eyes still trained on her.
Wade continues to talk with the group, recapping their time in the Void and how they managed to escape Cassandra’s lair. Logan punctuates the conversation with vitriolic quips of his own, drinking more as Wade tries to get the group to form a team.
You try to send your power Logan’s way, trying to bleed into him some calm, but he shakes his shoulders and brushes you off. “Don’t fucking bother, sweetheart.”
“I can help you, Logan.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”
As Wade rallies the group into a cohesive unit, gaining their support in taking down Cassandra, Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “You’re all fucking dead.”
“Oh, my god, read the room,” Wade chides.
+++
Logan storms off, one bottle of whiskey fisted in each hand. You want to follow after him, but Wade stops you. “Let him go, cupcake. Peanut’s in a fragile state and you’re too pretty to become mincemeat.”
You shoot a glare at him and brush his hand away from your shoulder. “No, he only seems to sink his claws into you,” you bite back, but the anger leeches from your voice.
“Spicy,” Wade comments, “I like you. The script editor worked overtime on you, I can tell.”
“Yeah, well the jury’s still out over here,” you say, but you can’t help the twitch of a smile tugging at your lips.
You glance over at the door and feel Wade sidle up beside you. “Seriously, cupcake. Chasing after him is like trying to catch a raccoon with rabies. Might be fun, but it’s not worth the bite.”
“Oh yeah?” you ask, peering over at him, “And how long have you known him?”
Wade pretends to look down at his wrist and taps a non-existent watch. “Four days, six hours and thirty-two minutes,” he says with a smirk, “but I don’t really like to put a timestamp on friendship."
With a groan, you plop down on the bed and rub at your temples. “Is everything a joke with you?”
“Mostly,” he chirps with a grin. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he watches you. “But I have been known to press pause occasionally.” Wade regards you for a moment, a slight tilt to his head. “Honey badger does it for you, huh?”
Sighing, you lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “I have followed Logan through millennia, Wade. I can’t remember a time anymore where I haven’t loved him.”
“His mutant dick that good, huh?”
You half laugh, half snort and shoot him a pointed look. “Not everything is about sex, Wade.”
“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve all got emotional baggage, mine is definitely over the free to fly limit, but that guy? Literal mountains. Centuries worth, even.”
“Exactly,” you say, sitting up. “I’ve helped him carry more than you can imagine. Logan may push people away, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone to stay.”
Wade cocks his head, considering your words and his expression softens. “You know running after him isn’t going to fix him.”
“I’m not trying to fix him,” you reply. “He just needs to know someone is there for him.”
“Well, it’s your funeral, cupcake,” he says with a sigh. “I promise I’ll give a really moving eulogy. But, I do think if anyone is gonna convince tall, dark and brooding out there to join us, it’s you.”
You give him a soft smile as you stand. “Thanks, Wade.”
“And just so you know,” he calls after you, “I’m open and willing to being your mutant dick rebound.”
You roll your eyes and walk out the door.
+++
You step outside and see Logan sitting by himself in front of a fire not too far from the lodging. Walking quietly, you stop when you see Laura approach him and sit along side him. You’re close enough that you can hear their words—hear Logan tell her about the suit, about how he found the X-Men, his friends, dead.
The anger, the loathing, this Logan carries comes into focus and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s lived with this weight upon his shoulders. Suffering alone with only the bottom of a bottle to quiet the thoughts that scream in his mind.
As Laura eventually leaves, she catches your eye and gives you a small nod.
You feel a strange kinship with her. She too has memories of a Logan who no longer exists and who is radically different from the one she has now. You wonder what she��s thinking and have half a mind to follow after her when you hear Logan call out, “I know you’re there.”
You turn back towards where he remains sitting in front of the fire, the whiskey bottle now more than half gone. Closing the gap between you, you sit down alongside him and watch as he continues to stare down into the fading fire.
“How much did you hear?” he asks, taking a large swig from the bottle.
“Enough,” you answer simply.
Logan grunts and takes a long pull from the bottle, his lips glistening as his swallows get sloppy. “Well, now you know. I’m the worst Logan,” he almost spits, his tone dark and bitter. “You drew the short straw with me, sweetheart.”
“You know I don’t think that,” you say softly.
Logan doesn’t respond and instead finishes the rest of the whiskey, tossing the bottle somewhere behind him. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he looks over at you. “You actually gonna join them tomorrow?”
“Are you?”
“It’s a fucking suicide mission,” he answers. “You want to walk up to your death, be my guest.”
“If you’re so convinced this is a suicide mission, why don’t you want to go?” you counter, his ire beginning to bleed into the space between you and creep uncomfortably along your skin. “You afraid you might come face to face with actual death and realize that’s not really what you want?”
Logan’s gaze flicks up to your face, his eyes dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking pushin’ it.”
“Good! Someone fucking should be!” you exclaim, standing from the fallen log. Maybe Wade was right—maybe this was futile. In every universe Logan could be a stubborn ass, but this one was particularly obstinate. “Do you really believe you’re so unredeemable, Logan? That you’re just a vile mutant who doesn’t deserve sympathy after his friends were brutally murdered?”
You can feel his rage boiling just under the surface of the thin veneer of calm. His eyes pierce into you, pinning you in place as he stands to his full height, his fists clenched tightly.
“You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart,” he growls.
Anger simmers in your veins, threatening to burn you from the inside out. “Oh fuck you, Logan.”
He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you.
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and it isn’t desire that courses through you, but rage. Your skin prickles and his vitriol ignites something deep within you, something hotter and brighter than you’ve ever felt before.
“After all this time and everything I’ve told you, you honestly believe that’s all I want from you? You’re a fucking pathetic asshole,” you snap, your voice sharp and laced with venom.
Logan’s expression darkens, the smirk slipping from his face as his jaw clenches. “You got some balls sayin’ that shit to me,” he spits.
A small part of you is terrified of him, afraid that he might actually snap. Might actually unsheathe his claws and send you onto your next life without ever having truly lived this one. But you know him, you know him. His pain and rage isn’t towards you, but himself.
You risk a step closer to him, narrowing the space between you and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, mingling with your own fury. “Yeah, well at least one of us has a pair.”
Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him.
The weight of your emotional onslaught brings him to his knees, but you keep pushing, switching from your feelings for him to his feelings for you. All the affection, all the love, all the comfort the two of you shared in every version of your coupling across space and time floods his mind.
You watch as his expression melts from anger into one of overwhelming vulnerability and pain. His hands, still clenched into fists, tremble beneath the weight of your power surging through him. He looks up at you then, his eyes pleading and your resolve breaks. Tears burn in your eyes and trail down your cheeks, wetting your lips as a scream rips from your lungs.
Your hold on Logan dissipates as you reign your emotions back under control. You stagger on your feet as your power diminishes, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and broken sobs. You can’t look at him, not yet. If you do, you might actually break. So you do something that you never thought you would do—you leave.
+++
Night in the Void is cool, almost bordering on uncomfortable like everything else in this godforsaken place, but for once it doesn’t bother you. You gaze up at the sky, the haze of distant stars and planets blurring together the more you try and focus on just one.
You’ve always loved looking at the stars. There was a comfort in knowing you could look up at the sky and see the same constellations in every universe, that there was always one constant among all the variables.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting before you hear the crunch of his boots on the earth, dried leaves and twigs snapping under his heel. Logan joins you on the ground, sitting with a heavy sigh. The maelstrom of emotions swirling within him bleeds into the space between you and you can feel it, thick and heavy and suffocating.
You risk a glance at him and he looks…defeated. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw and you see something in those hazel eyes you rarely see—fear. Not fear at you, although your guilt would rather have you believe that, but fear of himself, fear of feeling what you’ve shown him. Logan’s breath is slow, controlled, but you can hear the slight tremor in it.
“I promised myself I would never use my powers on you” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know what it feels like to experience that onslaught. It feels like drowning.” Your voice cracks and you fight to keep the guilt burning in your chest from consuming you whole. “And that was just a fraction of what we’ve felt across lifetimes, Logan.”
Logan stays silent but gazes at your face, eyes flicking across your features, drinking you in. The scrutiny makes you shiver. Before you isn’t The Wolverine, the X-Man people in his universe loathe, but a man left raw and vulnerable.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says slowly, his voice rough as the words are pulled from him. “You shouldn’t have shown me that.”
You flinch, the weight of his words are a punch to your gut. “I know,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know and I’m sorry, I—”
Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.”
Your heart stutters in your chest and for a moment you can’t breathe. The words hang between you, heavy and raw, the sound of them something you’ve been craving to hear.
“I am your home,” you reply softly.
Logan shifts beside you, closing the space between you as he slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. His mouth crashes to yours, his kiss urgent, rough and desperate.
You reach for him, gripping his shoulders as you kiss him back, the Void slipping away. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his other hand tugs at your waist in an attempt to pull you closer.
It’s messy and intense and you don’t want it to end. Logan kisses you like a man starved, like you’re his last breath of air.
A whimper falls from your lips as he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You’re both breathless, his nose softly nudging yours.
“Please come with us tomorrow,” you whisper against his skin. “Let me take you home.”
He nods once and that’s all you need.
+++
The morning comes quicker than anyone would like.
Nervous energy bleeds through the group, everyone knowing they’re on the precipice of life or death, that this may be the last day they ever inhale air into their lungs or feel the warmth of the sun on their skin.
Logan’s quiet, already tucking into Gambit’s liquor, as you sit down beside him. He looks down at you briefly, taking a long long pull before offering you the bottle. You take it from him and take a swig of your own, the amber liquid burning a path down your throat.
“What are you thinking?” you ask, handing him back the bottle.
He stares down at his feet, swirling the liquid around in the glass. “I honestly don’t even fuckin’ know.”
You reach for his hand and give him a comforting squeeze. He stares down at you for a moment and then drags his gaze up to your face. “Whatever happens Logan, I’ll be right there with you.”
Final preparations complete, everyone piles into the van, you tucking alongside Logan in the hatchback. The ride is mostly quiet, punctuated only with the few occasional quips by Wade just to ease the tension. You brace yourself, gripping Logan’s calf as Blade sends a rocket launcher through Cassandra’s front gate and Elektra floors it through the explosion.
The others leave the van first, forming a line of defense. You look up at Logan and lean forward to press the faintest of kisses against his lips. His fingers curl around your neck and pull you closer, deepening it just enough to taste your mouth.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Stay by me.”
You swallow hard, loathe to let him go, wanting to stay in the perceived safety of the van, but you simply nod and follow him to join the others.
Fighting erupts all around you and you stick as close to Logan’s back as you can. It’s a symphony of chaos—rage, fear and determination all swirling heavily in the air. You feel your power thrum underneath your fingertips as you channel those emotions back towards whoever Logan is fighting, hoping to disarm them—even if temporarily—with their own vitriol in an attempt to give him an advantage.
The air burns in your lungs as you move through the fight, your mind spinning as you gain distance towards Cassandra’s lair. You can see the others move around you—Elektra and Blade slicing down enemies with their blades; Gambit disarming others with his explosively charged playing cards; Laura fighting in a style all her own, yet so much like Logan’s; and Wade cutting down others like he’s having fun.
A clear path opens up to the ramp leading up to Cassandra and the others swarm behind you, allowing yourself, Wade and Logan to break free from the melee. Logan looks back at you just long enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. You try and remain stoic, even though your mind is racing with all he the ways this could go wrong, and give him a small nod of encouragement.
You stop short in front of Cassandra as she sits sipping tea, seemingly disinterested in the battle happening just outside her stronghold. “You two escaping I could live with, but coming back willingly…” she trails off, “Boys are so silly.” Her eyes dart towards you. “And you brought a friend!”
“I just need to get home,” Wade says, his tone serious.
“I’m afraid that’s not an option.”
Cassandra flicks Wade aside effortlessly and Logan’s instantly on alert, claws extended at his side. You attempt to direct your powers at her, trying to defuse the anger simmering below her surface. She rolls her neck and glances at you, intrigue in her eyes.
“Oh, aren’t you interesting,” she says, effortlessly flicking your powers aside. “I wonder what treats you have hiding in that mind of yours.”
Cassandra steps closer to you, her calculating stare flicking over your face. She lifts one hand up to you and from behind her, Logan growls and moves to attack. You watch, powerless, as she pins Logan to the ground with his own claws.
She tsks and looks down at him, “That’s enough out of you.”
And then, she’s in your mind, every nerve ending in your body on fire, ready to consume you whole.
You’re standing in a library, Cassandra at your side. Shelves extend as far as the eye can see, fading into an infinite distance. You walk aimlessly along the shelves, pausing at the entrance of a room simply titled “Logan”.
“Oh, now this is something,” you hear Cassandra say from beside you. “This is quite the collection you have.”
Your fingers reach out and touch the spines, the briefest flickers of memories emanating from their covers. “I’ve known him for so long,” you murmur. “Been with him through so much.”
You pause in front of one book, the urge to open it nearly overwhelming. Pulling it from the shelf, the pages flutter open and you gasp, the memories of that life flooding your brain.
You and Logan were married in this life. He worked a simple job, construction. There were no X-men, no missions, no danger. He kept his mutation a secret, showing only you when the memories got too rough, too unmanageable. You were his anchor. You had two kids—girls. And oh, how he loved them. Both of them wrapped effortlessly around his heart from before they were even born.
Tears spring to your eyes as the warmth of those memories flood through you. “I loved that life,” you whisper, putting the book back on the shelf.
“And who wouldn’t?” Cassandra agrees, placing her hand on your shoulder. “So effortless his love for you. So different from now.”
You glance over at her, confusion drawn on your face. False empathy tugs at Cassandra’s sympathetic smile. “Are you even sure he cares for you now? This Logan is so broken, more broken and unloveable than all these other Logans, hm?”
Shaking your head, you try to resist her efforts to batter you, to convince you your soul’s purpose is not worth it. Not worth him. “That’s not true. They’re all worthy. All capable and deserving of love,” you say, your fingers trailing along another spine. “Even this one. Especially this one.”
Cassandra’s face contorts then and…
She’s wrenched from your mind and you fall to your knees, blinking up as you see Wade holding Cassandra from behind, one hand holding Jaggernaut’s helmet to her head.
Your mind still spins as Logan and Wade confront her, their conversation a jumble in your mind. But you don’t miss her saying either they kill her, or she kills them. Finding the strength to stand, you rise and place your hand on Wade’s arm.
“If I stay,” you start, focusing only on Cassandra and ignoring the press of Logan’s gaze into your skin, “Will you let them go?”
Logan reaches for you and you pull your gaze from Cassandra long enough to press your palm against this chest. You meet his eyes, silently pleading with him to let you continue.
“Will you?” you repeat, unable to keep the pleading out of your tone.
Cassandra laughs bitterly. “You love him that much? To sacrifice yourself to save him? That Logan, out of all of them?”
You nod, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. “I love him that much,” you reply softly.
Logan grabs your hand then, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he chokes out, voice thick with unspoken emotion, “Don’t do this.”
You smile softly as you reach up and cup his cheek, his beard rough against your palm. You don’t miss the way he briefly nuzzles into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he sighs. “I love you, Logan. In all my lives, in this one and in the next one, too.” The first tear slips down your cheek as you look up at him. “I promise I’ll find you again, Logan. I always do.”
You press a kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle. It lingers for a moment, a desperate, bittersweet exchange as Logan tries to memorize the feel of you. His hands grip your waist, clutching almost hard enough to bruise, but you relish the pain.
Wade stands beside you both, uncharacteristically silent, his hands still holding Cassandra in place. His usual banter is gone, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “This is the worst fucking idea anyone has ever had,” he mutters, but his tone is soft. “And I’ve had some pretty terrible ideas.”
Cassandra regards you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “If I let them go, you’ll stay here with me in the Void. Be my ally.”
You nod, “Yes.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrow, calculating, weighing her options. Finally she sighs, “Fine. But you know…no one will remember this little sacrifice of yours. The next Logan won’t even know you.”
Logan growls and you squeeze his hand in gentle reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice finally breaking. “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”
You step away from Logan, your heart shattering with every step. Wade lets go of Cassandra and you feel the weight of your decision settle heavily against your shoulders.
Cassandra pulls something from her pocket, slipping it onto her fingers. Before you, a portal opens up, just outside the boundaries of the room. Outside, the raging storm that is Alioth grows near and in that moment, you realize Cassandra was playing a game of her own.
“I figure,” she says, straightening the lapels of her jacket, “that they have approximately four seconds before they’re through.”
Your eyes flick to Logan and you memorize every detail, every emotion written across his face. With one final nod, he tears his gaze from you and he runs towards the portal, Wade alongside him.
And then, darkness consumes all.
+++
You’re unsure how long you’ve been out. The last thing you remember was Alioth screaming towards you, giving you barely enough time to cocoon yourself from his rage.
Cassandra is gone.
Wade is gone.
And Logan—Logan is gone.
You open your eyes and find Remy standing above you. He offers you his hand and helps you to stand. “C’mon, chère,” he says, nodding towards the open portal behind him, “Let’s go home.”
You’re not sure where home is any more, not without Logan, but you don’t have the strength to argue. From the moment you wound up here in the Void, you’ve been looking for a way out. Now that you have one, you know you need to take it.
Accepting Remy’s hand, you join him through the portal.
You stumble into a familiar room and are greeted warmly by a smiling TVA agent. She’s unlike the first TVA agent you met, her presence comforting as she says your name. “We heard you’ve had quite the adventure.” She looks over towards Remy. “Mr. LeBeau, if you’ll follow this agent here.”
Remy leaves with he other agent, turning towards you with a wink. “Enjoy your man for me, yeah?”
Your heart flutters in your chest and you look towards the agent, trying to suppress the hope you feel in your chest. She smiles and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. From her pocket she pulls out a small device, pressing a few buttons on the pad. Before you a different portal opens and she gestures towards it.
“Welcome home.”
+++
You stand in front of the apartment door and hesitate before knocking. Your nerves flutter uncomfortably in your belly even though it’s been less than two days since you last saw Logan in the Void. But you’re out now—you both are—and the fear nags at you that maybe this isn’t what he wants. That you aren’t what he wants.
You stuff that thought down with a shake of your head. Raising your hand, you rap against the door three times and let out a shaky breath. When he opens the door, you feel as if the air has left your lungs and you forget to breathe. Your heart aches at the sight of him.
Logan stops short, his face falling into one of pure disbelief and all he can do is stare at you.
“Is that my stripper?” you hear Wade call from farther into the apartment. Logan continues to stare at you as Wade pops up behind him, his face lighting up in surprise. “Oh, hey cupcake! Didn’t expect to—��
“Get out,” Logan growls, turning his head slightly in Wade’s direction, his eyes never leaving yours.
From over Logan’s shoulder, Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “Ah, looking for some afternoon delight?” he coos, slinging his arm over Logan’s shoulder and patting his chest. “This guy has been jerkin’ it constan—“
You hear the sknit of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe into Wade’s thighs. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!” Wade curses. “You’re supposed to be penetrating her, not me!”
“Get. Out,” Logan repeats, retracting his claws.
“Fine.” Wade pushes past Logan’s frame, limping slightly as his wounds heal themselves. “You’re lucky Blind Al’s already out playing Bingo. Or selling herself for blow. I don’t actually know her schedule,” he comments as he walks down the hallway. “Glad you’re home, cupcake.”
Logan barely waits until Wade is out of sight before tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling you towards him. Your gasp dies on your lips as he drags you inside, shutting the door with his foot and pushing you up against the rough wood. Then his mouth is on yours and it’s warm and wet and wonderful.
His hands cup your face, fingers moving to tangle in your hair and you feel him everywhere. You whine as he nips lightly at your chin before trailing his lips back up your jaw, licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep.
Your fingers scramble for purchase, fisting themselves into the fabric of his button-down flannel.
There’s a desperation and urgency bleeding from him, as if he can’t drink you in fast enough, or hard enough, or long enough to satiate the longing that’s within him. And you’re feeling it too, an ache growing deeper in your belly, a need to be consumed by him fully and you whine into his mouth because he’s not nearly close enough to you.
A thigh slips between your legs as he kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, a moan falling from your lips as you greedily seek friction.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Logan husks against your shoulder, pulling your hips harder against his clothed thigh.
Your hands cup the sides of his face, your fingers scratching lightly against his beard. You force him to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “I always come to you,” you say softly. “I always come home.”
He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”
You follow him to the bedroom, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and you can feel the prickle of anticipation along your spine as he turns back to look at you. His eyes never leave yours as he shrugs off the flannel and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes trace the lines of his chest, the strong definition of his muscles, following the line of hair that leads to the top of his jeans. As you bite your lip, you hear his chuckle, “My eyes are up here.”
“Mmm, yeah they are,” you start, tugging your shirt off and shimmying your pants over your hips, “but the view down there is nice, too.”
Logan reaches for you, his large hands skimming over your hips, over the flesh of your ass and under your thighs, lifting you up and forcing your to wrap your legs around his waist. With an easy flick of his fingers, he’s unclasped your bra and you toss it aside with the rest of your clothes.
Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”
Molten desire shoots down your spine and you can feel the slick between your thighs. God, the mouth on him was going to be the death of you.
You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at him. “Just fucking touch me already,” you whine, and you hate how desperate you sound. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”
He presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his nose along the center of your clothed cunt. You inhale sharply as he kisses over your clit before trailing his fingers along your hip bones and pulling the fabric down. His warm hands palm along your thighs and he opens you up, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. And then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a hot stripe through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan as his mouth continues to lap at you, pleasure tingling low in your belly and spreading through your limbs.
Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”
You trail your hands down over your chest, briefly palming each breast before you continue down and sink your fingers into Logan’s hair. His groan rumbles through you and you don’t miss the way his hips start to rut against the mattress, seeking friction.
His mouth and tongue continue to move over you, long, slow licks punctuated by gentle sucks and flicks over your clit and you can’t stop the grind of your hips against his face. You feel his smirk against you as one thick finger finally sinks inside your walls, nudging that spot deep inside that makes you squirm.
Another finger slips inside you and a low whine spills from your lips.
“You’re beautiful like this, you know that,” he says, voice rough, thumb replacing his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue pumping. “All blissed out and needy and desperate to come on my fingers.”
His words zip through you as he fuck you with his hand and you bite your lip. “C’mon,” he purrs, “let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.”
Soft whimpers spill from your throat as he continues to work you, that pull in your lower belly growing stronger and stronger. His hand never stilling, he kisses his way up your body, pulling a nipple into his mouth and then you’re coming, cunt clenching around his fingers.
Logan licks into your mouth to steal your cries as he continues to work you through your orgasm. Your thighs clamp around his forearm, the pleasure overwhelming.
He finally stills, pulling his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. You watch through half lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean of your slick and you feel that flame reignite in your belly.
“Take your pants off,” you demand, breathless, pushing at his chest.
Logan laughs, but allows you to push him onto his back. “You always so bossy after you come?”
You fumble at his belt, undoing his buckle and unzipping his jeans before shoving them down his hips. “Make me do it again and find out,” you taunt as his cock springs free.
He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and you sit back on your heels and admire him for a moment. Your eyes trail from his broad shoulders, down the contours of his chest and follow that line of hair down his stomach to between his thighs, where his cock stands, thick and ready.
“I will never get tired of looking at you,” you sigh, raking your nails down his thighs, deliberately not touching him where you know he wants it the most. “You��re so beautiful, Logan.”
Whatever response he has, dies in his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him one long, firm stroke. He’s hot and heavy and you’re aching to feel him inside you. But not yet. Leaning down, your eyes meet his and you trace your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting the salt on his skin.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Logan curses, unable to stop the thrust of his hips, chasing your mouth.
You wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit and collecting the precum there before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. Logan hisses through his teeth, fingers winding their way into your hair to help guide your movements.
“You’re so warm and wet, sweetheart,” he groans. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
You give him one last stroke as you release him from your mouth and climb up to sit on his thighs. Logan pulls you forward by your hips and you gasp as your cunt slides across his cock.
“Line me up,” he instructs and you obey without hesitation.
Gripping him in your hand, you guide him to your entrance, notching him inside before slowly sinking down atop him. A sob chokes in your throat at the thick feel of him inside you, stretching you, making you feel complete. Your entire existence boils down to where he’s joined with you and you relish the burn.
His hands are everywhere as you start to move, caressing your thighs, your hips, up to your breasts and back down, tracing a map on your skin only his fingers can read. Praise falls from his lips in an almost nonstop litany, telling you how wet you are, how tight, how warm, how good you’re making him feel.
“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” you ask, breathless. You look down at him through half lidded eyes and find him just as flushed and wanton as you. “How you’ve always made me feel?”
You continue to rock back and forth on his cock, slow, deliberate movements that leave you wanting, needing more. Logan shifts his hips and finds the leverage to fuck up into you, the deep drag of his cock against your walls making you throw your head back and moan.
“Fuck,” he growls, his fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your hips, pulling you somehow impossibly closer. “Show me, sweetheart.”
You brace your hands against his chest, raking your fingers through the damp hair there, feeling his heart beat beneath your palms. Leaning down, you capture his mouth with yours, the kiss sloppy as he continues to thrust up into you. You move your hands up his neck, your fingers collecting the sweat along his jaw and then, “Feel, Logan.”
It starts slow, an almost faint heat spreading from your fingertips as they ghost over his skin, your power beginning to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Logan gasps and his rhythm falters as the first wave of emotion hits him. You slow, too, your hips barely moving as you run your fingers down from his jaw, over the column of his throat and back to his chest.
Your palms rest against his ribs as you continue to pour into him all the love and passion he’s ever shown you over centuries. Logan stares up at you in reverence, his face soft as he runs his hands up your sides, over your breasts. He tugs you down towards him, his mouth hovering over yours.
“Do you feel, Logan,” you ask, your breath hot against his lips. “Do you feel how much you love you have in you?”
He draws your bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly once, before capturing your mouth fully, kissing you deep. You hum as his tongue swipes against yours and his fingers tangle in your hair.
A gasp pulls from your throat as Logan wraps his arms around you and flips your position, forcing your legs around his waist as he begins to thrust into you again in earnest. You feel him deep in this position, each thrust of his cock against your walls hitting that perfect spot inside of you.
“It’s too much,” he groans into your skin. “Never…never felt like this.”
You rake your nails along his back, relishing in the growl that falls from this throat. “It always feels like this,” you gasp, drawing your power back.
His arms slide under your shoulders, anchoring you in place as his hips continue to thrust into you. It’s lewd almost, the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises from where you’re joined. His breath is hot and damp against your skin where his mouth hovers over the pulse point in your neck.
Your fingers snake into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck and your other hand slips in between your bodies, reaching for your clit.
“That’s it,” he moans, “use those fingers to get yourself off on my cock.”
You can feel where he’s sliding thickly into your cunt, the wiry hairs at the base of his cock damp with your arousal, and you begin to rub in time with his thrusts. Pleasure zips along your spine, every cell in your body afire at his touch. You feel that telltale tug low in your belly and you know you’re not going to last much longer.
He slides his hands down from your shoulders, following the curve of your spine, forcing you to arch your back. Taking the opportunity before him, he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he palms the flesh of your hips in his hands, angling your hips further up into his. A keening whine falls from your lips as he somehow thrusts deeper into you, making your legs shake.
Logan nudges your hand away from your clit, replacing your fingers with his own as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes are focused on the sight of his cock thrusting into you and the slick smeared across your thighs.
“Logan,” you gasp, “I’m so close.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”
His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you as you spasm down on his cock, his name falling from your lips. He fucks you through your orgasm, each thrust of his hips sending aftershocks of pleasure along your limbs as he chases his own release. Logan’s thrusts grow erratic and you reach for him, grasping at his forearms, pulling him down to you.
“Come for me, Logan,” you murmur in his ear. “I wanna feel you come.”
With one final thrust, he comes with a groan, forehead pressed against yours as he spills himself deep within you. You can feel cock spasm as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm, using your body to wring out the last of his pleasure. You hold him close, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw as he finally stills within you.
Careful not to crush you, Logan pulls you to him as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t pull out, tugging your leg over his hip to keep you close and full.
You smile up at him, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. He sighs at your touch, a content sound that tugs at your heart.
“You really love me in every universe?” he asks softly, brushing his nose against yours.
“Yes.”
“Even this one?”
“Especially this one.”
You don’t know what the rest of this life holds, but you do know one thing—wherever he goes, you’ll be right there with him.
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett#worst wolverine#logan howlett x you#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#deadpool#logan x reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction
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i think there is something to be said about the way a lot of popular western media (both within fiction and outside of it, now that i think about it) uses the pretense of nuance to obfuscate existing power dynamics.
the example i'm mulling over at the moment is netflix's Arcane, which depicts a pretty straightforward conflict between a brutally oppressive ruling class and an underclass that is out gunned, out manned, and lacks even the means to support its own population. despite this, the show takes a very even-handed "everybody's flawed" approach to how it portrays this conflict, one that seems to be increasingly popular in popular western media. this makes for a compelling story, the show takes the time to make sure we understand all the characters involved, their motivations, their flaws, their hopes, their dreams etc, but i think when people engage with that kind of narrative uncritically, they tend to miss the forest for the trees and get lost in pointless debates over which characters were more in the right or who's actions were more justified by their trauma etc. this kind of weightless, individualist approach seems to always lead to the same conclusion: that changing society is scary and traumatic and everybody is too flawed to be trusted with leading such a shift. how convenient that this always seems to benefit those already in power.
i'm thinking about this in regards to the reactions to the latest developments in the story of Arcane, which sees caitlyn supporting a military dictatorship, in part as a response to the trauma of losing her mother in jinx's terror attack. the reactions are pretty typical fandom discourse about whether or not her actions are understandable given what she's going through as a character, but what no one seems to be considering is that she's only able to undergo this change in the first place because of her class position, not just as a member of the wealthy elite of the overcity, but also as a respected member of the overcity's law enforcement. see, while the individual characters involved might be complex, the moral dimensions of the overall conflict really are not. one side has all the power and resources, as well as a vested interest in keeping the other side subjugated to maintain its dominant status quo. just because the dominant side is populated primarily with skinny attractive people a who're shown to be doing their best with the situation and the other are mostly grotesque caricatures of poverty stricken degenerates doesn't mean this is a difficult choice.
it remains to be seen how the actual show will play out, but i can't help but see it as continuing a trend of what i can only describe as a kind of smug liberal nihilism, crafting a brutal class conflict only to revel in the horrific spectacle of it all, basking in the complex moral greyness of its protagonists, uninterested in taking an actual stance. there's a point when nuance becomes a form of cowardice, imo
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#I realize that...my mom has been doing a lot of soul searching#she's still much the same person as always#because change is hard#and staying the same is easy and comfortable#but I think I finally recognize an attempt#I recognize her realizing the way she's treated me my whole life#and while I think she'd deny it all if I ever brought it forward#I think she's come to understand it through her therapy#and probably through little things I say here and there about myself that are indicative of childhood trauma#I mean#she's even more open to the idea that my brother and I are both mentally ill and neurodivergent#the question isn't though whether I forgive her#because I'll never forgive her for ruining my life#but whether I'll acknowledge the fact that she genuinely tried to make up for it#I don't think she'll EVER fully break out of those old habits of hers#but can I accept and understand that her circumstances made her the way she is#and acknowledge that even if she wasn't an amazing parent#she was still just a person fighting her own demons#and deserves the credit as a human being for trying her best even when that 'best' was not good#can I find it within myself to do that?
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