SIMS ANATOMY - JAKE SIM
SYNOPSIS: you, a top cardiac surgeon, find yourself increasingly frustrated by the distraction over the hospital’s new head of neurosurgery, Dr. Jake Sim. Despite your initial annoyance, you can't help but notice Jake's charm and undeniable skills. As you keep running into each other, Jake’s persistent yet respectful flirtations begin to break through your professional exterior.
PAIRING: neurosurgeon! jake x cardio surgeon! reader
GENRE: workplace romance, situationship
WARNINGS: explicit smut, unprotected sex (don’t), oral (m and f receiving), angst, language, MDNI!!
wc: 12k
You step out of the OR, still riding the adrenaline high from the successful triple bypass surgery you just completed. The intricate dance of sutures and clamps still echoes in your mind as you head towards the nurses' station to update your patient's chart. You’ve always prided yourself on your precision and dedication, and today was no exception.
As you settle into the chair, logging into the system, you can't help but overhear snippets of conversation from the nearby nurses. Their voices are hushed but excited, and despite yourself, your ears prick up at the mention of a new doctor.
"Oh my god, have you seen Dr. Sim yet?" one nurse gushes, her voice practically dripping with admiration. "He's the new head of neuro. I can't believe he's not married with kids."
"Seriously, he's so handsome," another chimes in. "I thought doctors like him only existed in movies."
You roll your eyes internally, feeling a twinge of annoyance. These nurses should be focusing on their patients, not swooning over some new doctor. You know the type—charming, overconfident, used to turning heads wherever he goes. You’ve seen it a hundred times. It’s frustrating to think that professional women, who you’ve seen handle the toughest of medical crises with unflinching composure, could be so easily distracted by a pretty face.
"He smiled at me in the break room," another voice adds, dreamy and far away. "I nearly melted."
You resist the urge to scoff out loud. Instead, you channel your irritation into the chart in front of you, updating the post-op notes with meticulous detail. Your patient, Mr. Harrison, came through the surgery well, and you want to ensure there are no loose ends in his care plan. His vitals are stable, and the grafts look good. You make a note to check on him in an hour.
The chatter continues unabated. "I heard he’s a genius in the OR," someone says. "Apparently, he’s revolutionized some new technique in neurosurgery."
"Brains and looks? Not fair," another nurse quips, and they all dissolve into giggles.
You finish charting, your irritation only growing. It’s not that you begrudge the nurses their moment of levity—being a nurse is hard, often thankless work, and they deserve a bit of fun. But the object of their admiration rubs you the wrong way. You’ve had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously in a male-dominated field, and the idea of a doctor coasting on his looks and charm irks you.
Shaking your head slightly, you stand up and grab the chart. There’s still a lot to do, and you don’t have time to dwell on some pretty boy neurosurgeon. If he’s really as good as they say, you’ll see for yourself soon enough. And if not, well, you’ve never had a problem putting overconfident doctors in their place.
As you walk away from the nurses' station, you hear one last wistful sigh. "I can't wait to see him in action."
Neither can you, you think, but for entirely different reasons.
You step out of the OR, mind still buzzing with the details of the successful valve replacement surgery you just completed. you head to the cardiac unit to check on post-op patients, but something feels off. The usually bustling ward is eerily quiet, with only one nurse, Olivia, stationed at the desk.
“Olivia,” you calls out, her voice cutting through the silence. “Where is everyone?”
Olivia looks up, a hint of guilt flashing in her eyes. “They’re at lunch,” she replies a little too quickly, her tone unconvincing.
you narrows her eyes, knowing Olivia well enough to sense when she’s not telling the full truth. “Olivia...” you say in a stern voice, crossing your arms.
Olivia shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “Okay, fine,” she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “They’re in OR 2’s gallery.”
Confusion flickers across your face. “Why would they be in the gallery?” you ask, your irritation growing.
“Dr. Sim is clipping an aneurysm,” Olivia admits, unable to meet your eyes.
That’s all you need to know, storming off towards the gallery, your footsteps echoing through the hallways. The idea of your nurses neglecting their duties to watch a surgery infuriates your. Jake’s presence in the hospital had already been a source of frustration, and now he was serving as a distraction for your team.
Reaching the gallery, you push open the door and stride in, your eyes scanning the crowd of nurses huddled around the glass, their attention glued to the procedure below. you spot Jake in the OR, skillfully clipping the aneurysm, his focus unwavering.
“What is going on here?” you demand, voice slicing through the murmurs. The nurses jump, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Why are you all here instead of attending to your patients?”
One of the nurses, Carla, steps forward, stammering. “We... we just wanted to see Dr. Sim’s technique. It’s supposed to be groundbreaking.”
your glare is icy. “I don’t care how groundbreaking it is. Your patients come first. Get back to your stations, now.”
The nurses scurry out, their heads bowed in embarrassment. you watch them go, your anger simmering. Jake’s impressive skills might have captivated your team, but to you, he was nothing more than a distraction. you couldn’t afford to have the nurses slacking off, not when lives depended on their diligence.
you turn back to the OR, eyes locking onto Jake. For a brief moment, your gazes meet through the glass, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps? Or was it amusement? Shaking off the thought, you storm out of the gallery, determined to keep your team on track and your own frustrations with Jake in check.
You catch sight of Jake coming out of the OR, his surgical cap still on and his scrubs marked with the evidence of a long, intense procedure. He’s engrossed in conversation with another surgeon, but as you approach, he looks up and meets your gaze.
“You must be Dr. Sim,” you say, your voice firm.
Jake smiles, wiping his hands with a towel. “Dr. Y/L/N, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I could say the same about you,” you reply, not missing a beat. “Seeing as you’re the reason my nurses are disappearing during their shifts to watch this so-called groundbreaking technique of yours.”
His smile falters slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize my surgeries were causing any issues. I’m sorry if they’ve been a distraction.”
“They have,” you state bluntly, crossing your arms. “My team’s focus should be on their patients, not on observing other procedures or a certain brain surgeon, no matter how impressive they might be.”
Jake’s lips curl into a playful grin. “Oh, so you think I’m impressive?”
You feel a flush of annoyance, typical behavior for a neurosurgeon, always so full of themselves. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you implied it,” he teases, taking a step closer. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
You narrow your eyes, trying to maintain your stern demeanor. “My team doesn’t have time for distractions, Dr. Sim.”
“Fair enough,” he replies, his tone still light but his expression more serious. “I understand, and I’ll make sure to address it with the staff. I didn’t mean to disrupt the unit.”
You study him for a moment, gauging his sincerity. Despite your irritation, there’s something about his demeanor that disarms you slightly. You can’t help but notice his deep brown eyes, plump lips, and the way his Australian accent is way more attractive than it should be. You understand, in that moment, why the nurses might be so captivated.
“Good,” you say, your tone softening just a touch. “I appreciate that.”
Jake smiles again, this time a bit more warmly. “And if it’s any consolation, your reputation as a top cardiac surgeon is well-deserved. I look forward to working alongside you.”
“Likewise,” you reply, giving him a curt nod before turning to leave. As you walk away, you can’t shake the mixture of irritation and intrigue. Jake Sim might be causing headaches for your unit, but there’s no denying his skill and charm. You just hope he proves to be more than just a distraction.
A few days later, you find yourself in the hospital’s busy hallway, reviewing patient charts on your tablet. The hum of activity around you is a comforting backdrop until a familiar voice interrupts your focus.
“Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his voice carrying that unmistakable Australian lilt. “Fancy seeing you here.”
You look up, and there he is, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dr. Sim,” you acknowledge with a nod, trying to keep your tone neutral. “What can I do for you?”
“Just thought I’d say hello,” he replies, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to you. “And maybe ask how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” you respond, keeping your eyes on your tablet.
“Busy as usual, I see,” he notes, glancing at the screen. “You ever take a break?”
“Breaks are for people who don’t have critical patients to tend to,” you reply, not looking up.
He chuckles, the sound warm and annoyingly pleasant. “You know, there’s more to life than work. Maybe you need someone to remind you of that.”
You finally look up, raising an eyebrow. “And I suppose you think you’re that someone?”
“Could be,” he says with a confident grin. “I mean, who better to show you the lighter side of things?”
You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Confidence is a necessity in our line of work,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “But I’ve heard it helps in other areas too.”
“Oh really? Like what?” you ask, despite yourself.
He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Like convincing brilliant surgeons to step out of their comfort zones once in a while.”
You scoff lightly, shaking your head. “I don’t need convincing, Dr. Sim. I have my priorities straight.”
“Of course you do,” he replies smoothly. “But even the best of us need a break sometimes. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you out. Just offering a bit of friendly advice.”
You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Friendly advice, huh?”
“Absolutely,” he says with a wink. “Think of it as a, professional courtesy.”
You can’t help but laugh, despite your best efforts to stay stern. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I get that a lot,” he says, flashing that infuriatingly charming smile. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to saving lives. But if you ever need a reminder of what fun looks like, you know where to find me.”
later that day, the hospital corridors are quieter than usual as you make your way to the elevators, finally heading home after a long shift. The soft hum of the building is almost soothing after the constant noise of the OR. You press the button and wait, your mind already shifting to thoughts of a hot shower and some much-needed sleep.
The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, you see Jake standing inside, leaning against the back wall, his expression relaxed but alert. He looks up and his face lights up with a familiar, playful smile.
“Dr. Y/L/N,” he greets, stepping aside to make room for you. “Heading home too?”
“Dr. Sim,” you reply, stepping in and pressing the button for the ground floor. “Looks like it.”
The doors close, and the elevator begins its descent. The enclosed space suddenly feels a bit smaller with the two of you in it.
“Long day?” he asks, glancing over at you.
“You could say that,” you respond, leaning back against the wall. “You?”
“Same here,” he says, a hint of fatigue creeping into his voice. “But it’s all part of the job, right?”
You nod, a brief silence settling between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s an unspoken tension, a mix of mutual respect and something else you can’t quite put your finger on.
“So,” Jake breaks the silence, a teasing note in his voice. “Any plans for the evening? Or are you one of those surgeons who lives and breathes work even at home?”
You raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And what about you? Do you have a life outside the hospital, Dr. Sim?”
He laughs softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I try to, when I’m not dealing with brain surgery. But I’ll admit, it’s a challenge. The job can be all-consuming.”
“Tell me about it,” you agree, your tone more relaxed now. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no room for anything else.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s important to find some balance,” he says, his voice sincere. “Even if it’s just little moments here and there.”
You look at him, considering his words. There’s more to Jake than the cocky, flirtatious persona he often projects. “I suppose you’re right.”
The elevator dings again, signaling your arrival at the ground floor. As the doors open, you both step out into the lobby, the cool night air from outside brushing against your skin.
“Need a ride?” Jake offers, his tone casual but there’s a glint of genuine concern in his eyes. “It’s pretty late.”
“I’m good, thanks,” you reply, appreciating the offer but not ready to blur those professional lines just yet. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Count on it,” he says with a wink. “Have a good night, Dr. Y/L/N.”
“You too, Dr. Sim,” you respond, turning to head towards your car.
As you walk away, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of irritation and curiosity. Jake Sim might be a distraction, but there’s no denying that he’s also starting to become a presence you can’t quite ignore. And maybe, just maybe, that’s not entirely a bad thing.
The next day, you find yourself scrubbing in for a complex procedure. Today’s case is a particularly challenging one: a patient with both a severe cardiac condition and a cerebral aneurysm, requiring the combined expertise of both cardiac and neuro specialists. As you meticulously scrub your hands and arms, you hear the familiar voice of Jake Sim beside you.
“Looks like we’re working together today,” he says, his tone a mix of professionalism and that signature playful edge.
You glance over, meeting his eyes. “Seems like it. Ready for this?”
“Always,” he replies, his confident smile never wavering. “I’ve been looking forward to this case. It’s not every day we get to tackle something this intricate together.”
You nod, appreciating his enthusiasm despite your initial reservations about him. “Agreed. The patient’s condition is precarious. We need to be perfectly in sync.”
Jake gives you a serious nod, his demeanor shifting. “Absolutely. Let’s make sure we give them the best outcome possible.”
You both finish scrubbing in and enter the OR, where the patient is already prepped and waiting. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation, the surgical team moving with practiced precision. As you take your place on one side of the patient, Jake positions himself on the other, eyes meeting over the sterile field.
“Ready to start?” you ask, your voice steady and focused.
“Ready,” Jake confirms, his expression equally determined.
The surgery begins, and the OR fills with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machinery. You work methodically, your hands moving with practiced precision as you navigate the complex landscape of the patient’s heart. Jake mirrors your concentration, his focus unbroken as he tackles the aneurysm with equal skill.
“Forceps,” you request, your voice calm and controlled.
“Here,” the scrub nurse says, passing the instrument with a fluid motion. “How’s the heart looking?” jake asks
“Stable,” you reply, glancing up briefly to meet his eyes. “How about the aneurysm?”
“It’s going well,” he answers, his tone steady. “We’re almost there.”
As the surgery progresses, you find yourselves falling into a natural rhythm, your movements synchronized in a way that surprises you. There’s a subtle, unspoken understanding between you, each anticipating the other’s needs and adjustments.
“Nice work on that bypass,” Jake comments, his tone genuinely appreciative.
“Thanks,” you reply, a small smile forming behind your mask. “Your precision with the aneurysm is impressive.”
“Coming from you, that means a lot,” he says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.
Hours pass, but the intensity of your focus never wanes. Finally, as the last suture is placed and the patient’s vitals stabilize, you both step back, a sense of accomplishment settling over you.
“Great job, everyone,” you say to the team, who respond with nods and murmurs of agreement.
Jake meets your eyes, his expression one of respect and something more. “We make a good team, Dr. Y/L/N.”
You nod, feeling a surprising sense of camaraderie. “We do, Dr. Sim. Let’s hope the patient has a smooth recovery.”
As you step out of the OR and begin the process of de-scrubbing, you can’t help but reflect on the day’s events. Working alongside Jake, seeing his skill and dedication firsthand, has shifted your perspective. He’s still cocky, still flirty, but there’s depth and talent beneath that exterior.
“Drinks tonight to celebrate?” Jake asks, a teasing glint in his eye as you both head towards the locker rooms.
You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe another time, Dr. Sim. But good work today.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, dropping the formalities for a moment. “Seriously, it was an honor working with you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” you admit, giving him a genuine smile before heading off to change.
The next few weeks bring more opportunities for you and Jake to work together, and each collaboration reveals another layer of his skill and personality. Despite his initial cockiness, Jake proves to be a dedicated and talented surgeon, and you begin to see him in a new light. The more time you spend together in the OR, the more you find yourself appreciating his expertise and even enjoying his company.
One evening, you find yourself finishing up some paperwork in the quiet cardiac unit. The day had been long, but fulfilling, with several successful surgeries under your belt. As you look up from your desk, you see Jake approaching, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "You still here?"
"Just wrapping up," you reply, setting aside your pen. "What about you?"
"Same," he says, stepping into your office. "I was going to head out, but I thought I'd check in on you first."
"Checking in on me, huh?" you say with a hint of amusement. "What for?"
"Well, I was thinking," he starts, a bit more serious than usual. "We've been working together a lot lately, and I wanted to say thank you. For trusting me in the OR and for being an amazing colleague."
You feel a warm glow at his words, appreciating the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Jake. You've been a great partner in the OR. I couldn't have asked for a better neurosurgeon to collaborate with."
Jake smiles, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "You know, I think we make a pretty good team."
"I think so too," you admit, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's been nice, working with you."
"Nice, huh?" he teases, his playful side emerging once more. "I'll take that as a high compliment coming from you."
You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Don't let it go to your head, Sim."
He chuckles, but his expression soon turns more contemplative. "You know, I've been thinking about what I said the other day. About balance and taking breaks. It's something I'm not great at either."
"a little hypocritical to be giving me advice then no?," you reply, your tone light but teasing. "It's hard to switch off when our work is so demanding."
"Exactly," he agrees. "But I've realized that maybe we could help each other with that. Maybe we could find a way to balance things out a bit more."
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "And how do you propose we do that?"
"How about we start with something simple?" he suggests. "Like taking a real break. Maybe grab a coffee together, no work talk allowed. Just two colleagues, taking a breather."
You consider his offer, the idea surprisingly appealing. "Alright, Dr. Sim. Coffee sounds good."
Jake's smile widens, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Great. Tomorrow morning, then? Before our rounds?"
"Tomorrow morning," you agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation.
The next morning, you find yourself at the hospital’s small café, waiting for Jake. The early hour means the space is quiet, with only a few other staff members milling about. When Jake arrives, he’s carrying two steaming cups of coffee, a smile on his face.
“Good morning,” he greets, handing you a cup. “Thought I’d get us a head start.”
“Thanks,” you say, accepting the coffee and taking a sip. “So, what’s on your mind, Dr. Sim?”
“Just enjoying the company,” he replies, sitting down across from you. “And maybe getting to know the person behind the scalpel a little better.”
You chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease. “Alright, what do you want to know?”
“Let’s start simple,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “What do you do when you’re not saving lives?”
You think for a moment, realizing how rare it is for you to talk about anything other than work. “I like to read, mostly. And sometimes I go for a run. It helps clear my head.”
“Sounds nice,” he says, nodding. “I’m more of a swimmer myself. It’s the one thing that keeps me sane outside the OR.”
“Swimming, huh?” you ask, surprised. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a swimmer.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/N,” he says, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness.
“Maybe,” you admit, feeling a strange curiosity about him. “But I’m starting to think I’d like to find out.”
The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself genuinely enjoying the time with Jake. As you talk, you see different sides of him—his passion for his work, his dedication to his patients, and even a vulnerable side that he rarely shows.
When it’s time to head back to your respective departments, you feel a sense of connection that wasn’t there before. Maybe Jake Sim is more than just a distraction. Maybe he’s someone worth getting to know.
As you part ways, he gives you a warm smile. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Same time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.
And so, a new routine begins. Coffee in the mornings, shared surgeries, and increasingly personal conversations. The barriers you once held up start to crumble, and you find yourself drawn to Jake in ways you hadn’t anticipated.
Weeks pass, and the connection between you grows stronger. One evening, after another successful surgery, Jake catches up to you in the hallway.
“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” you reply, curious.
“I was thinking,” he starts, looking a bit nervous for the first time. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. I’d like to take you out for dinner. No work, just us.”
You feel a flutter of surprise and anticipation. “Dinner?”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you say?”
You consider for a moment, then nod. “Alright, Jake. Dinner sounds good.”
As he walks away, you can’t help but smile.
The evening of your date arrives, and you’re both excited and a bit nervous. You’ve chosen a smart but casual outfit, and after a final check in the mirror, you’re ready. Your heart flutters with anticipation as you hear the sound of a car pulling up outside your apartment.
When you open the door, Jake is standing there, looking effortlessly charming in a blazer and jeans. His eyes light up as he sees you, and he smiles warmly.
“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says with a grin. “You look pretty.”
“Thank you, Dr. Sim,” you reply with a smile, feeling a bit flustered. “You look pretty sharp yourself.”
He gestures to the car parked behind him. “Shall we?”
You nod and follow him down to the car. As you slide into the passenger seat, Jake starts the engine and glances over with a playful smile.
“So, are you ready for an evening of fine dining and even finer conversation?” he asks, his tone light and teasing.
“I’m definitely looking forward to it,” you reply, settling into the seat and feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.
As he drives, the conversation flows easily. Jake talks about his day and a recent surgery he performed, and you share some anecdotes from your own work. The drive is filled with laughter and engaging conversation, making you feel more at ease.
When you arrive at the restaurant, Jake parks and opens the door for you, offering his hand to help you out. The restaurant is a cozy bistro with warm lighting and a relaxed atmosphere. Jake leads you inside and to your reserved table, which is positioned by a window with a view of the city lights.
“This place looks lovely,” you say as you take your seat, admiring the ambiance.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jake replies, settling into his chair across from you. “I thought it would be a nice spot for our first dinner out.”
The evening progresses with delightful conversation and delicious food. Jake is attentive and charming, making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. As you both talk about various topics, you find yourself opening up more than you expected.
At one point, Jake asks, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to yet?”
You think for a moment, considering the question. “I’ve always wanted to take a cooking class. I love to cook, but I think it would be fun to learn some new techniques and recipes.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Jake says, nodding. “Maybe we could take a class together sometime. I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook Italian cuisine.”
You smile at the thought. “That could be fun. I’d be up for that.”
As the evening progresses, the conversation turns more personal. Jake shares stories about his family and his upbringing in Australia. He talks about the challenges of being far from home and the sacrifices he’s made for his career.
“It’s not always easy being so far away from my family,” Jake admits. “I miss them a lot, especially during the holidays.”
“I can imagine,” you say sympathetically. “My family is close by, and we have our own share of drama, but I’m grateful for their support.”
Jake nods, appreciating your understanding. “Family can be complicated, but it’s important to have that support system.”
You both continue to share personal stories and insights, finding common ground in your experiences. By the end of the evening, you feel a genuine connection with Jake, one that goes beyond professional respect.
When the check arrives, Jake insists on paying. “It’s my treat tonight,” he says with a smile. “Consider it a small thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“Thank you, Jake,” you reply, feeling touched by his gesture. “I really appreciate it.”
. The night air is crisp and refreshing, and the drive home is filled with easy conversation. When you arrive at your apartment, Jake parks and turns to you with a hopeful expression.
“I had a great time tonight,” he says softly. “I hope you did too.”
“I did,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you for such a lovely evening.”
you hesitate for a moment, then look at jake with a warm smile. “Would you like to come up? Maybe just hang out and talk some more?”
he considers the offer, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. “That sounds nice. I’d love to.”
He smiles and follows you up to your apartment. As you enter, the space feels even more welcoming with the soft lighting and cozy atmosphere. You both get comfortable on the couch with drinks, and the conversation continues to flow effortlessly.
You find yourselves talking about everything from past relationships to future aspirations. As the conversation flows, Jake starts to open up about his past relationships. “You know, I’ve had my fair share of relationships that didn’t work out. One of the biggest challenges was balancing the demands of work and personal life. It’s not easy to find someone who understands the hours and the emotional toll.”
“I get that,” you say sympathetically. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when your job takes up so much of your time and energy. My last relationship ended for similar reasons.”
Jake looks at you with genuine curiosity. “What happened?”
You take a deep breath, reflecting on your past. “We were together for a few years, and it started out great. But as time went on, he couldn’t handle the unpredictability of my schedule and the stress of my job. We drifted apart, and eventually, we just grew in different directions.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jake says softly. “It’s never easy to end a relationship, especially when it’s someone you care about.”
“Thanks,” you reply. “It’s part of life, I guess. We both moved on and found our own paths.”
Jake nods, taking a sip of his wine. The easy conversation slows, a new, more, intimate silence settling between the two of you.
Jake shifts slightly, closing the gap between you. his eyes locked on yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and you suddenly felt very aware of your own. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
your heart raced as Jake leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. you responded eagerly, parting your lips to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. you could feel the heat building between you as you kissed, your bodies pressed together.
Jake's hands began to wander, tracing patterns on your back. you could feel his fingers brushing against the zipper of your dress, and you shivered with anticipation.
Jake pulled away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "May I?" he asked, his hand hovering over the zipper.
You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. Jake slowly unzipped the dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so. You felt a thrill run through your body as the dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing in just your matching black bra and panties.
Jake's eyes roamed over yourbody, taking in every inch of you. You could feel yourself growing wet as he looked at you, his desire obvious and reflecting your own.
Jake stepped closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch you. You could feel his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, you shivered with pleasure. He leaned in and began to kiss your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
a soft moan escapes as Jake's lips moved down your body, his hands following close behind. “you’re so fucking beautiful” He reached your breasts, his fingers tracing the outline of your nipples through the lace of your bra. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more. “been thinking about this since the first day I saw you”
Jake reached behind You and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your tits in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. You moaned as he touched you, your body responding to his touch.
Jake's mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. you could feel his breath against her skin, and she shivered with anticipation. “w-ant you” He reached for your panties, “relax baby I got you”, his fingers tracing the outline of your pussy through the fabric.
you gasp as Jake's fingers slip beneath your panties, his fingers exploring your folds. you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more.
Jake pulled your panties down, his eyes locked on your pussy, “shit baby, you’re so wet f’me, such a pretty pussy” He leaned in and began to kiss your inner thighs, his lips igniting the heat pooling in your lower belly.
Jakes mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your pussy. a loud moan leaves your lips as he began to lick at your entrance, your hand instinctively going between your legs to run your fingers through his black locks. “fuck, jake feels so fucking good don’t stop” he hums in response, the vibration going straight to your core.
he’s practically making out with your cunt licking and sucking, his saliva and your juices combined, making a mess on your couch, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. “fuck i’m c-cuming” your orgasm rapidly approaching. “yeah baby cum on my tongue, fuck can’t get enough of you, you taste so sweet”. at his words, your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body shaking with pleasure.
Jake stood up, his eyes locked on yours. you could see the desire in his eyes, and you knew what he wanted. you reached out and unbuttoned his pants, fingers brushing against his hard cock.
Jake stepped out of his pants, his hard cock springing free. while he wasn’t remarkably long, he definitely made up for it in girth. You reached out and wrapped your hand around it, stroking it gently. “ah shit baby” you could feel him growing harder in your hand, your excitement noticable.
he pushed you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. “condom?” he asked, stopping in his tracks before he gets too ahead of himself. “it’s fine, just put it in” you reach down between you two, taking hold of his length as you begin to guide his cock into your dripping heat. his cock twitches at the thought of feeling you with nothing in between, “fuck, are you sure?”, “yeah, m’on the pill, just fuck me already please” your walls clench around nothing, needing to feel him inside you more than anything.
without another word he slides in. the stinging sensation quickly turning into one of pleasure. your pussy gripping him tightly as he sets a pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “so fucking tight, pretty, you’re squeezing me so good. pussy was made for my cock mhm?” you can’t even find the words to reply, the pleasure all too much to even think straight.
“feels so good jake” your words encourage him, his thrusts growing more quick, chasing his release as well as your own. the room is filled moans and the sloppy, wet sounds of his cock pounding into your hole. “s-so close, faster baby, want your cum inside me” you don’t have to tell him twice, his hips snapping into a pace that has you seeing stars.
“cum for me baby, cum on my cock” his hand reaches between you to rub your clit in quick circles, sending you over the edge “fuck! i’m cumming!” your release consumes you, his following not too long after.
he collapses next to you on the tiny couch, the both of you panting and out of breath as you come down from your high. “that was amazing” you turn your head to look at him, his eyes closed from pure euphoria he just experienced. “amazing is an understatement. it was fan fucking tastic” you let out a laugh at his pure honesty, a comfortable silence settling in the room.
he pulls you in by your waist, positioning you so your back is against his chest, a more comfortable position since your couch is definitely not meant for this. “i had a good time tonight” you can’t help the smile that grows on your face “me too”
as if the universe was against you, a beeping noise cuts through the silence, ending your moment. his pager was going off, they probably needed him back at the hospital, the realization of your jobs hitting you like a truck. “way to ruin the moment” he says getting up to check the pager “I gotta go, i’ll see you at work?” you smile at him nodding. he quickly gets dressed and presses a quick peck to your lips “get some rest” he tells you before rushing out the door to make his way to the hospital.
you can’t help but be a little disappointed. The obligation of your job was one of the many reasons you didn’t date, simply because it didn’t work. why did you expect this to be any different?
you drift off into a slumber, too tired to let your thoughts cloud your mind.
The next morning, the hospital is bustling with the usual chaos as you walk through the corridors towards your office. Despite the busy environment, your mind keeps drifting back to the night before with Jake. The memory of his touch, his kisses, and the intimate conversations you shared fills you with a warm, lingering sense of connection.
As you turn the corner, you see Jake standing near the nurses’ station, discussing a case with a colleague. He looks up and catches your eye, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. There’s a new glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before, a mixture of warmth and mischief.
“Good morning, Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his tone playful and a bit louder than necessary, drawing the attention of nearby staff. “Did you sleep well?”
You feel a blush rising but manage to keep your composure. “Good morning, Dr. Sim. I did, thank you. And you?”
“didn’t sleep much, had a lot on my mind,” he replies, his grin widening as he walks over to you. “Must be the excellent company I had last night.”
Several nurses and doctors nearby glance over with curious expressions, but Jake seems unfazed. He stops just a bit too close, his presence commanding your attention. “I was hoping we might catch up over lunch. I’ve been craving some more of those conversations we had.”
You raise an eyebrow, fighting the smile that’s threatening to break through. “Is that so? Well, I’ll have to check my schedule.”
Jake chuckles, leaning in slightly. “You do that. In the meantime, if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “Or maybe I should say, you know where to call me.”
You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his audacity. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Sim.”
He winks at you before stepping back, returning to his conversation with the colleague but not without a lingering glance over his shoulder.
Throughout the morning, you find yourself running into Jake more often than usual. Each time, he manages to throw in a playful comment or a flirty remark, making it clear that last night’s intimacy has only fueled his interest.
In the break room, you’re pouring a cup of coffee when Jake slips in beside you. “we meet again,” he says, his tone light. “I was just thinking about how good you look in scrubs.”
You roll your eyes but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement. “Really? I’m sure you say that to all the doctors.”
“Only the ones who make a lasting impression,” he replies smoothly, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.
Later, while reviewing patient charts at your desk, you receive a text from Jake. It’s a picture of a heart drawn on a napkin, with a message: “Couldn’t help but think of you during rounds.”
You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. It’s clear that Jake’s flirting isn’t just a passing fancy; there’s a genuine interest and warmth behind his actions that makes your heart skip a beat.
Weeks turn into months, and your relationship with Jake settles into a comfortable, intimate rhythm. Without any formal labels, your connection grows deeper, rooted in shared moments and unspoken understandings. Lunches in the cafeteria become a regular occurrence, interspersed with stolen glances across the OR and late-night encounters that leave you breathless and wanting more.
You find yourself looking forward to these moments, the thrill of sneaking around adding a layer of excitement. During shifts, Jake’s flirtatious comments become a highlight of your day.
One afternoon, you’re in the break room, reviewing patient charts when Jake walks in, his usual confident stride and easy smile making your heart skip a beat. He leans against the counter, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Hey, beautiful. Busy?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.
“Always,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.
Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You look like you could use a break. How about a coffee?”
You glance at the clock, knowing you have a few minutes to spare. “Sure, why not?”
As you walk to the “coffee shop” side by side, jake quickly takes a glance around to make sure no one is watching and pulls you into the on-call room, the tension between you palpable, you can’t help but feel the thrill of anticipation. The moment the door closes behind you, Jake’s hands are on your waist, pulling you close. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s both urgent and tender, a mix of passion and familiarity that leaves you breathless.
“You’ve been on my mind all day,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands roaming over your back.
“you pulled me away for this?” you let out a slight chuckle. “mhm want you so bad” his lips move down to your neck “jake we’re at work.”
your eyes shut closed, enjoying the feeling of his soft, plump lips on that sweet spot behind you ear that he always found instantly. “doors locked, no one’s coming in here” he mutters out.
you give in, your hands immediately going to his pants and undoing the tie on his scrub bottoms. “well in that case, I wanna suck your cock” you whispered, lowering down into your knees in front of him. Jake's eyes widened in surprise, but then he grinned.
"Fuck, yeah," he said, dropping his pants and boxers. His cock was hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum, your heart pounding with excitement.
you reached out and wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it gently. Jake groaned and closed his eyes, his head thrown back. you leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock, tasting the salty precum. Jake's groan grew louder as you opened your mouth and took him in, lips sliding down his veiny shaft.
you started to suck, head bobbing up and down as youworked his cock. Jake's hands were in yoir hair, guiding you as you sucked him off. you could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, his balls tightening as he got closer to cumming.
"yeah, baby," Jake groaned, his hips thrusting forward as he fucked your mouth. "You're gonna make me cum so hard."
You moan around his cock, the sound vibrating through his shaft. You could feel his cock twitching in yourmouth, his balls tightening even more. you continued faster, fingers digging into his thighs as you worked him.
Jake's groans grew louder, his thrusts more urgent. you could feel his cock swelling, his precum flowing freely. you sucked harder, cheeks hollowing as your mouth got him to his release.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jake groaned, his hips bucking as he came hard in your mouth. You swallowed, throat working as you took every drop of his cum. Jake's hands were in you hair, holding your head as he came, his hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your mouth.
When he was done, you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jake's cock was still hard, but it was starting to soften. You stood up, smiling at him.
"Did you like that?" you asked, voice soft and seductive. Jake grinned, his eyes still glazed with pleasure.
"I loved it," he said, pulling you into a kiss. "That was amazing."
As the weeks went on, you and Jake continued the little rhythm you had set in place. He flirted with you every chance he got. The both of you ending up in each others beds more often than not.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, you’re sitting in your apartment, staring blankly at the schedule in front of you. Your mind keeps drifting back to Jake—the way he looked at you during lunch, the warmth of his hand on your back as he guided you through the crowded cafeteria. The realization hits you like a tidal wave: you’re falling for him. Hard.
It terrifies you.
You’ve always prided yourself on being focused, dedicated, and in control of your emotions. But with Jake, everything feels different. The boundaries you set for yourself are blurring, and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications.
The demands of your job loom heavily over you. The long hours, the constant pressure, and the emotional toll of the medical field leave little room for anything else. As you stare at the schedule for the coming weeks, packed with surgeries and patient consultations, the reality sinks in: maintaining a relationship would be nearly impossible. The thought of trying to juggle your career and a growing emotional commitment to Jake feels overwhelming. After much soul-searching, you come to a difficult conclusion. It’s not fair to him or to yourself to continue something you can’t fully sustain. With a heavy heart, you decide it’s best to end things, believing that stepping back is the only way to preserve the little balance in your life.
The next day, you’re in the break room, trying to focus on patient charts when Jake walks in. He greets you with his usual easy smile, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.
“Hey, what are you up to?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.
“just charting, the usual,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.
Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You wanna step away for a bit and grab lunch with me?”
You hesitate, the words on the tip of your tongue. You want to say yes, but the fear of what it might mean if you keep going down this path holds you back. “Actually, I have a lot to catch up on. Maybe another time.”
Jake’s brow furrows, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”
You force a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with work.”
He doesn’t push, but you can see the worry in his eyes as he nods and leaves you to your charts.
Over the next few days, you start to pull back, keeping your interactions with Jake strictly professional. You avoid the on-call room, decline his offers for lunch, and keep your conversations short and to the point. It’s not easy, and you can see the confusion and hurt in his eyes every time you brush him off.
One evening, you’re leaving the hospital when you run into Jake in the parking lot. He’s leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression serious.
“Y/N, can we talk?” he asks, his voice a mix of frustration and concern.
You nod, knowing you can’t avoid this conversation forever. “Sure.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong?”
You shake your head, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “No, Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About what we’re doing.”
Jake’s expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”
You shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. “I’ve realized that I can’t keep up with a relationship right now. Our jobs are so demanding, and I’m constantly running on empty. I don’t think I can give you the attention and commitment you deserve.”
Jake’s expression shifts from confusion to hurt. “Y/N, I thought we were making this work. Why now? What changed?”
You struggle to keep your voice steady, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “It’s not about you. It’s about me and my inability to balance everything. I’ve been trying to make it work, but I can’t keep up with both my job and a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Jake’s eyes drop to the floor, and he takes a deep breath, trying to process what you’ve said. “So, this is it? You’re just… ending things? before they even started?”
You nod, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I think it’s best. I care about you a lot, but right now, I can’t handle more than what I’ve got.”
Jake remains silent for a moment, then looks back at you with a pained expression. “I get it, Y/N. If this is what you need, then I respect your decision. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
You reach out, touching his arm gently. “I’m so sorry, Jake. This isn’t what I wanted, but I need to focus on my career right now. I hope you understand.”
He nods, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Yeah, I understand. It doesn’t make it any less painful, but I get it.”
As you turn to leave, you feel a deep ache in your chest, knowing that you’ve made the right decision for yourself, but also feeling the weight of the loss. The break room seems colder now, and the empty space where Jake used to stand feels like a gaping hole in your heart.
Adjusting to life without Jake is more challenging than you anticipated. The hospital, once a place of shared glances and flirtatious banter, now feels strangely empty. The absence of his smile, his reassuring presence, and the warmth of his touch leaves a void that’s hard to ignore.
At work, you focus intently on your patients and your responsibilities, but the familiar routine feels different. The small moments that once brought you joy—a playful comment during a surgery, a quick coffee break together—are now replaced with an uncomfortable silence. Conversations with Jake are limited to work-related topics, and every interaction is laced with a professional distance that feels foreign and awkward.
In the OR, you work side by side, your focus on the patient and the procedure. Jake’s skill and calm demeanor are still impressive, and you find yourself appreciating his expertise even more now. But the casual camaraderie you once enjoyed is gone, replaced by a formality that feels both stifling and isolating.
During breaks, you find yourself missing the easy conversations you used to have with him. You used to share small victories and frustrations, but now those moments are spent in solitude or with other colleagues who don’t quite fill the gap Jake left behind.
Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you can’t help but feel the pangs of loneliness. Your personal life remains focused solely on work, and the connection you once had with Jake seems like a distant memory. You remind yourself why you made the decision, focusing on the demanding nature of your job and the need for balance.
Gradually, you begin to adjust, finding solace in the routine of your work and the support of your colleagues. The initial pain of Jake’s absence dulls over time, replaced by a newfound focus on your career and a deeper understanding of your own needs. Though the void remains, you learn to navigate your days with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication.
You’re passing through the hospital lobby, your mind preoccupied with patient charts, when you spot Jake standing near the information desk. He’s engaged in a conversation with Dr. Choi Miyeon, the oncology attending. Your steps slow involuntarily as you notice the easy laughter between them.
Jake’s smile is wide and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that once made your heart flutter. But today, the sight of that smile, directed at someone else, sends a pang of jealousy through you. Dr. Choi, with her poised demeanor and confident air, seems to be enjoying his attention, and the familiarity between them feels almost too intimate.
You try to focus on your task, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the two of them. Jake’s hand gestures animatedly as he talks, his face lighting up in a way that you haven’t seen directed at you in weeks. Dr. Choi’s laughter is soft and melodic, and she tilts her head slightly, clearly engaged in the conversation.
The sight of Jake looking so at ease with someone else brings an unexpected rush of emotion. You find yourself clenching your jaw, trying to ignore the gnawing sense of loss that accompanies the jealousy. It’s a reminder of the connection you once shared and the void left behind by your decision.
You force yourself to look away, turning back to your work with a renewed determination to focus on your patients. But the image of Jake’s smile and the easy rapport he shares with Dr. Choi lingers in your mind, leaving you with a mixture of regret and longing that’s hard to shake.
As you continue with your tasks, the memory of Jake’s interaction with Dr. Choi lingers, clouding your focus. Every time you glance up from your charts or interact with colleagues, your thoughts drift back to that moment in the lobby.
In the break room later that day, you catch sight of Jake entering, still visibly animated from his conversation with Dr. Choi. He looks up and sees you, his face lighting up with that same welcoming smile that used to be exclusively for you. The sight of it only intensifies the pang of jealousy you felt earlier.
“Hey, Y/N,” Jake says, approaching you with his usual warmth.
“Hi, Jake,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You make a deliberate effort to maintain your professional composure, avoiding any mention of the earlier encounter.
Jake seems to sense a change in your demeanor but doesn’t press. Instead, he casually starts discussing the upcoming surgery, his tone light and engaging. You nod along, responding with the necessary professionalism, but your mind is elsewhere. You keep picturing him with Dr. Choi, the way they interacted so naturally, and it’s hard to ignore the twinge of regret.
As you wrap up the conversation and head to your next task, you can’t help but feel a deepening sense of frustration. The realization that you still care about Jake more than you initially admitted weighs heavily on you. The professional distance you’ve maintained seems more like a barrier than a solution, and the void he left behind is harder to ignore than you thought.
Later that evening, as you drive home, you replay the scene in your mind, questioning your decision. You wonder if stepping back from Jake was truly the right choice, or if you were merely trying to shield yourself from the possibility of a meaningful connection. The jealousy you felt is a clear sign of unresolved feelings, and it becomes evident that the emotional aftermath of ending things is more complex than you anticipated.
By the time you reach your apartment, you’re left grappling with the realization that you might have made a mistake. The lingering image of Jake’s smile, coupled with the undeniable ache in your chest, leaves you pondering whether there’s a way to reconcile your fears with the genuine affection you still feel for him.
But it would be utterly selfish of you to go running back to him when he’s seemingly started to move on. This was all your doing after all. He had every right to find what you couldn’t give him in someone else.
The ache in your chest refuses to fade. The image of Jake smiling at Dr. Choi replays in your mind like a loop, and the jealousy you felt transforms into a deeper, more introspective turmoil. You sit in your apartment, the stillness of the room amplifying the thoughts racing through your head.
You replay the conversations and moments you shared with Jake, recalling the comfort and joy he brought into your life. The connection you had felt real and profound, and now that it’s gone, the void seems more pronounced than you expected. The professional distance you’ve maintained does little to mitigate the lingering emotional impact, and the space between you feels even more significant.
The next day, you find yourself in the hospital, struggling to maintain the professional facade you’ve carefully constructed. Every interaction with Jake, though polite and necessary, feels strained and awkward. You avoid his gaze when you can, focusing solely on your patients and tasks, but the undercurrent of unresolved feelings remains.
During a particularly intense surgery, Jake is once again by your side, and the familiarity of working with him brings back a rush of memories. His presence, though professional, is comforting, and you find yourself drawn to him despite your earlier resolve. As you work together seamlessly, the shared glances and brief touches become almost impossible to ignore, reigniting a flicker of the intimacy you once had.
After the surgery, you’re in the on-call room, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind. Jake enters, a small smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, the professional barrier you’ve erected feels flimsy. He approaches you, his tone soft but playful.
“Everything okay, Y/N? You seem a bit distracted today.”
You look up, meeting his gaze. His concern and warmth are genuine, and it only adds to the confusion you’re feeling. “Just a lot on my mind,” you admit, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”
Jake’s eyes linger on you, a hint of frustration and worry evident. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
His words cut through the walls you’ve built, and for a moment, you allow yourself to consider what you’ve been missing. The idea of opening up to Jake, of sharing your fears and feelings, feels both daunting and inviting.
As the day goes on, you grapple with the decision to reach out to him. The barriers you’ve erected are crumbling, and you realize that avoiding Jake might not be the solution you hoped for. Instead, you begin to consider whether there’s a way to address your fears and find a balance between your demanding career and a meaningful relationship.
The thought of reaching out to Jake, of possibly reconciling your emotions with the connection you still feel, starts to take shape. It’s a daunting step, but one that feels increasingly necessary as you navigate the complexities of your feelings and the emptiness left by his absence.
The days following your realization feel like a mix of regret and self-reproach. You can’t ignore the growing sense of remorse over ending things with Jake. The emptiness left by his absence is more acute than you anticipated, and the thought of missing out on something meaningful drives you to act.
One evening, determined to make things right, you head to Jake’s apartment, hoping to talk things through. Your heart races as you reach his door, and you take a deep breath before knocking.
After a moment, the door opens, and your heart sinks when you see Dr. Choi Miyeon standing there. Her presence immediately sends a wave of jealousy and discomfort through you.
“Doctor Y/L/N?” Miyeon says, her tone a mix of surprise and curiosity.
You stand frozen for a moment, the sight of her at Jake’s door intensifying your doubts. “Doctor Choi,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.
Miyeon’s expression shifts to one of mild confusion. “Did you need something?”
The thought of Jake being with Miyeon, combined with the realization that you’re intruding on what feels like an intimate moment, makes your decision for you. The hurt and uncertainty you’ve been feeling come to a head, and you realize you’re not ready to face him under these circumstances.
“I uh actually I’ll come at a better time”. Without another word, you turn and walk away from the door, your heart heavy with a mix of regret and frustration. You can hear Miyeon’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop. The realization that you’ve arrived at the wrong moment only deepens the sense of regret.
As you leave the building, the cool night air hits your face, offering a brief respite from the emotional storm you’re navigating. You’re left grappling with the decision to return, to try again, or to accept the possibility that you might have missed your chance. The weight of the encounter with Miyeon only adds to the complexity of your feelings, leaving you to ponder your next steps in the solitude of the evening.
The following days are a haze of frustration and introspection. Seeing Miyeon at Jake's apartment made you feel even more disconnected from him. At work, maintaining your professional facade becomes more difficult as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you.
One morning, you’re at your locker, preparing for your shift, when Olivia walks in, her usual cheerful demeanor tempered by concern. “Hey, Y/N, you okay? You seem a bit off lately.”
You force a smile, trying to mask your turmoil. “Just a lot on my mind, Olivia. Thanks for asking.”
She nods sympathetically. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. We all have rough patches.”
You thank her and head to the OR, trying to push your thoughts aside. But every encounter with Jake is a reminder of what you’ve lost. You see him in the corridors, in meetings, and every interaction is laced with a painful awareness of the distance between you.
One afternoon, you’re in the middle of reviewing patient files when Jake approaches you. His expression is neutral, but there’s an underlying tension in his eyes. “Y/N, can we talk?”
You nod, setting your files aside. “Sure, what’s up?”
He leads you to a quieter corner of the hospital. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the other night. I saw you at my apartment, and then you just… left. What happened?”
You take a deep breath, the memory of that evening still fresh and painful. “I came to talk to you, to explain that I made a mistake in ending things. But when I saw Miyeon, I realized I couldn’t do it.”
Jake’s expression softens, a mix of understanding and frustration in his eyes. “Miyeon and I were just going over some research. There’s nothing between us, Y/N. But I get why you’d feel that way.”
The weight of your regret feels heavier now, knowing you misinterpreted the situation. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve been struggling with everything, and seeing you with her just… hurt. I felt like I’d already lost you.”
He steps closer, his voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t lost me, Y/N. I care about you. But we need to figure out what we’re doing here. This back and forth isn’t good for either of us.”
You nod, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I know. I’ve been scared, Jake. Scared that our jobs would make it impossible to have a real relationship. But I realize now that pushing you away was a mistake.”
Jake’s gaze softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. “We can make this work if we both want it, Y/N. But we have to be honest with each other, and we have to be willing to try.”
You squeeze his hand, a sense of relief washing over you. “I do want to try, Jake. I want us to work.”
He smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. We’ll figure this out together.”
As you stand there, hand in hand, you feel a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead won’t be easy, but the thought of facing it with Jake by your side makes it seem possible. For the first time in weeks, you feel like you’re on the right path, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.
The days following your night with Jake are a blend of professional decorum and personal confusion. You both agreed to take things one step at a time, but it's hard to ignore the magnetic pull between you. At work, Jake is as focused and brilliant as ever, but there’s an added layer of warmth in his interactions with you, a silent acknowledgment of what you share.
One afternoon, you find yourself in the break room, sipping coffee and going over department paperwork . Jake walks in, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.
"Hey, Y/N," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of playfulness. "How’s your day going?"
You look up, trying to suppress a smile. "Busy as usual. Just finished a tricky valve replacement."
Jake nods, moving closer. "I heard. You did a great job."
You feel a flutter in your chest at his praise. "Thanks, Jake. How about you? Any groundbreaking surgeries today?"
He chuckles, leaning against the counter. "Just the usual brain stuff. Nothing too exciting." He pauses, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, dinner tonight? My place?"
You glance around to make sure no one is within earshot. "Are you asking me out, Dr. Sim?"
Jake’s grin widens. "Maybe I am, Dr. Y/L/N. What do you say?"
You pretend to ponder, then nod. "Alright. Dinner sounds good."
The evening arrives, and Jake picks you up from your house. He’s dressed casually but still looks incredibly handsome. The drive to his place is filled with light conversation and laughter, easing any lingering tension.
Once inside his apartment, you feel a sense of familiarity and comfort. Jake leads you to the living room, where he’s set up a cozy dinner with candles and soft music playing in the background.
"This looks amazing," you say, genuinely touched by the effort he’s put in.
Jake shrugs modestly. "I wanted to do something special."
The dinner is delicious, and the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about your families, past relationships, and the challenges of balancing demanding careers with personal lives. As the night progresses, you feel the barriers between you dissolving.
After dinner, you move to the couch, a glass of wine in hand. The atmosphere is relaxed, and there’s a growing sense of intimacy.
"Tell me more about your family," Jake says, his voice soft and curious.
You take a sip of wine, thinking about your parents and your brother. "Well, my parents are both retired now. My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a teacher. My older brother is a lawyer. We’re close, even if we don’t see each other often."
Jake listens intently, nodding. "Sounds like a solid family. Mine’s a bit scattered. Parents divorced when I was young, so I spent a lot of time between Australia and the States. I have a younger sister who’s an artist. She’s currently exploring Europe."
The conversation continues, each revelation bringing you closer. You talk about your past relationships, the heartbreaks and lessons learned. There’s a vulnerability in the exchange, a mutual understanding of the complexities of your lives.
As the night deepens, you find yourself leaning closer to Jake, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Y/N," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I really care about you. I want this to work, despite the challenges."
You feel a rush of emotions, the sincerity in his words touching you deeply. "I care about you too, Jake. I want us to work."
He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressing closer together. The desire that has been simmering between you ignites, and you find yourself losing track of time as you explore the depths of your connection.
You found yourself crossing the room to stand in front of him, heart pounding in your chest. You'd reached out, hesitantly, and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. And when he'd looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, you knew that you couldn't resist any longer.
You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate. He'd responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And as you kissed, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins.
You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes. "Jake," you whispered, voice husky with longing.
"Yeah, baby?" he'd replied, his voice low and rough.
And then you stripped, slowly and deliberately, letting him watch as you revealed her body to him. You’d seen the heat in his eyes as he'd taken in the sight of you, and you knew that you had him.
You moved closer, pressing your naked body against his clothed one. You reached down, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his hard cock, dropping to your knees, taking him into your mouth and sucking him deep.
He'd groaned, his hands tangling into your hair as you worked magic on him. “s-shit baby, taking me so good, that’s it” you sucked and licked and teased, driving him wild with pleasure. when you felt him on the brink, you pulled back, smiling up at him.
"Fuck me, Jake," you commanded, voice husky with desire.
He'd obeyed, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs wide and burying his face between them. You cried out as he licked and sucked your clit, bringing you to the brink of orgasm.
And then he entered you, driving deep and hard. Your wrapped her legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust as you made love. It had been passionate and intense, a connection that went beyond the physical and was different from the previous times you had indulged in each other’s bodies.
when you finally reached your peak, collapsing in a tangle of limbs, you knew that you made the right decision. You finally acted on your attraction, and in doing so, you found a deeper connection with Jake.
You both lie there, still engulfed in the bliss of this newfound feeling between the two of you. He can’t help what he says next, feeling as if keeping it in was impossible. “i love you Y/N”.
you snap your neck in his direction, maybe it’s the post orgasm haze but you search for reassurance anyways.
His big brown eyes confirming his words. “I love you too jake”.
The next morning, you wake up in Jake’s arms, the sunlight filtering through the curtains. He stirs beside you, his sleepy smile a welcome sight.
"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
"Good morning," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.
As you lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seems distant and unimportant. In this moment, you feel a sense of peace and certainty. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know you can face them together.
At the hospital, the dynamic between you and Jake shifts subtly but unmistakably. The stolen glances, the brief touches, the shared smiles—all are infused with a new depth of intimacy. Your colleagues notice, but no one comments, respecting the unspoken bond you share.
In the weeks that follow, the relationship deepens. You navigate the challenges of your demanding careers, finding solace and strength in each other. The on-call rooms become your private sanctuaries, the moments of stolen kisses and whispered confessions a lifeline in the chaos of the hospital.
One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, you find Jake waiting for you in the parking lot. His presence, as always, is a balm to your weary soul.
"Hey, pretty" he says, pulling you into a hug. "How was your day?"
"Tough," you admit, resting your head against his chest. "But it's better now."
He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Come on, let's go home."
As you drive back to his place, the city lights blurring into a comforting glow, you realize just how much Jake has come to mean to you. The fears and doubts that once plagued you have faded, replaced by a certainty that you can face anything as long as you're together.
Back at his apartment, you settle into a comfortable routine, cooking dinner together and sharing stories about your day. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and affectionate touches.
After dinner, you move to the couch, your bodies naturally gravitating towards each other. Jake pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on your hips as he looks into your eyes.
"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I know we've had our challenges, but I want you to know that I'm all in. I want to be with you, no matter what."
Your heart swells with love and gratitude. "I feel the same way, Jake. I want us to be together, through everything."
He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. "Good. Because I can't imagine my life without you."
You lean in, capturing his lips in a slow, tender kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.
As the night wears on, you find yourself reflecting on the journey you've been on together. From the initial tension and uncertainty to the deep, abiding love you now share, it's been a rollercoaster of emotions. But through it all, you've found something rare and precious: a connection that transcends the challenges of your demanding careers, a love that grows stronger with each passing day.
and as you fall asleep in Jake's arms, you know that whatever the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand.
taglist: @hyunjinheartbreakprince @jaehoonii @enhaslxt @sumzysworld @justalittle-hee @seunghancore @curiousgworge @blockbusterhee @ribbioniki @chocolate-scoups @ineedsomezzz @theonewithouttheuwus @rairaiblog @chansloverr @armycarat2612 @slutforjaeyun @lovingvoidgoatee @jjklvr9 @fertilizedtoesw @ikeuverse @yohanseyebrowmole @mysticalenchantress @hchoes @en-gine @jakesbbygirl @miszes @simpjay @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @vveebee
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I tried my hands on an Human!Alastor fic ;> It's still very different to write for Human Al, but I hope y'all like it ;>
Special thanks to @hurthermore for beta-reading and encouraging me <3 This one's for you, love!
!! NSFW - Heavy Smut Ahead, Minors DNI - 6k words !!
„You need technical assistance, sir?“
Alastor looked up from the papers on his desk, adjusting his glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose. He didn't expect her to come in this late, or at all, not while he was still at the station.
The curious little sound engineer that had started half a year ago was standing at his office entrance, hands in the pockets of her outrageous trousers. She was tiny, her small figure barely filled the door frame, even with her bulky tool bag that hung from her shoulders. Alastor leaned back in his seat, folding his hands, focusing his tired gaze on her defensive expression.
She was a novelty, that one.
Not the first woman working at the station of course, but the first to assert herself in the male-dominated field of technical engineering. Her male colleagues saw the spunky, brass girl as a joke, either ignoring her or trying (very amateurishly) to bed her – both which didn't faze her at all meeting both scenarios with the same contemptuous indifference.
The women – secretaries, errand girls and concierges – were much more organized and refined in their bullying. Shortly after her arrival rumors had already spread, one more abstruse than the other, and they had collectively decided to pretend the engineer didn't exist in their periphery. More than once he witnessed her talking to his own secretary Ruth, just to be left standing while Ruth got up and walked out with the other girls to lunch in the middle of her sentence.
The little engineer took it all in stride, though. Never complained, never became outright disrespect- or revengeful. Gradually, her expressions steeled, her answers shortened and her work hours shifted to evenings or nights, with less people to run into.
Alastor had been fascinated by her the moment they first met. He had just started his usual 'Saturday Golden Hour', his favorite and most popular segment to host, broadcasting the newest releases of jazz and swing in the evening, just before sundown. Not even ten minutes in, right after he started playing Bing Crosby's new song 'Dancing in the Dark', listeners started calling the station by the handful, complaining about horrific feedback's and sudden blackouts. While Alastor watched Rufus Ellis, the head of the tech team, frantically run around, yelling at his workers, the little engineer had wordlessly grabbed a few tools and vanished. Five minutes later, his broadcast went back to working perfectly, sound crisp and quality flawless once again. She had returned, put back the tools from where she had taken them, and when Ellis – flabbergasted – asked her what she had done, she had calmly explained that she went up on the roof to check the transmitters connected to the radio tower and fixed a broken generator that had malfunctioned due to some doves nesting in it.
No one thanked or even acknowledged her, they just shrugged and went back to business as usual.
But Alastor didn't forget, and from this day he was determined to find out more about this extraordinary girl. She reminded him of his own struggle as the exception to the rule – it was a well-kept secret throughout the station exactly what Alastor looked like and who he was. That was the only reason he was able to do what he felt was born to, a cruel, unfair compromise. So, he felt an unusual sympathy for her, in addition to just his natural curiosity for oddities. However, he didn't expect her to be so elusive.
Whenever he tried to engage her in a conversation, she gave short, finite responses, avoided his eyes and hurried to get away from him, sometimes even bordering on rudeness in her haste to flee from him. Alastor was, to be frank, perplexed - his charm usually drew in the ladies unwantedly. That it had failed him now, with the little engineer, when he welcomed it for a change? Peculiar. To a degree, it angered him, but it also awakened his hunting instinct, just not the one he was used to.
“I'm afraid so, dear.”, Alastor smiled, standing up. He rounded his desk, hands behind his back, and went to her side, looking down a t her. Granted, he was a tall man, but next to her, he felt almost gigantic, which satisfied him in a strange way.
“I noticed my microphone was acting up today, and would like you to take a look at it, if you don't mind. Before it decides to give up on me mid-broadcast.”
“That's my job, sir.”, she just answered, eyes intensely staring at the carpet. Alastor's eyebrow twitched in slight aggravation. But he lead her to his booth, unlocking it to let her in. She went straight to his seat, dropping her tool bag next to it and started to pull his microphone to her to inspect it. He quietly closed the door, locking it discreetly – just as a precaution so she couldn't flee him again so easily, now that he finally had her in his vicinity.
Alastor walked over to her, leaning over her shoulder to watch her carefully taking the device apart. She startled when she saw him out of the corner of her eyes.
“It may take a while, sir.”, she mumbled, an obvious attempt to make him leave. Alastor laughed.
“I've got nowhere to be, dear, take your time.”, he said with a hint of mischievous delight. He heard her scoff, turning back to her work. There was a prolonged silence, her fiercely ignoring Alastor's quiet, content humming while her fingers picked apart and put together parts and cables.
He used the time to analyze her appearance – her hair was smooth but more unkempt than for a girl her age – how old must she be? Twenty, maybe Twenty-one? Vanity surely wasn't a flaw of hers, she didn't wear much make-up and Alastor saw various faint, light scars on her arms and hands, little bookmarks of mishaps and failures of her chosen career – the sight of them sent a sick shiver down his spine. Given his... hobbies, he found twisted appeal in scarred skin, finding beauty in those white, shimmering lines where blood once dripped from. He roamed her supple, curved body – unlike the recent fad of skinny, androgynous frames she was built womanly, round and fleshy... how beautiful could he paint her with white streaks on this vast canvas, add some masterpieces of his own to the collection?
“Alright.”, she pulled him out of his thoughts, mounting the microphone back on it's flexible stand. “A few cables were starting to corrode, I've replaced them, it should work fine now.”
Alastor grinned down at her, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. The first real contact. “What an efficient engineer you are, dear. Always coming to my rescue, I have yet to show my gratitude.”
She didn't look up, didn't even acknowledge that he said something to her, just packing up the various things she had spread out for the repair. Now that was just rude.
“Hello? Is this thing on?”, Alastor strained himself to sound lighthearted as he knocked two times on her head, feeling the shivers of impatience rising.
The engineer closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, shifting in his chair with furrowed brows.
“I'm getting paid to do my job. I don't need anything else.” She attempted to stand up, but his hand, still resting on her shoulder, holds her in place. “If that's all, sir?”
“Now now, not to hasty. I'd think it's unlike you to leave work halfway done. Normally you are quite thorough, aren't you?” Alastor cooed, tilting his head at her.
“My work is done.” she said, her voice now intense and a faint tint of red on her cheek and neck. My, there's the little ferocity he thought she'd lost at the job.
“Why we haven't tested the thing, dear – How can I be sure it works properly?”
“Because I know what I'm doing.” She looked outright offended at the implied possibility that she failed the task he asked of her. He had to chuckle, such a childish reaction to something so innocent. Maybe it was because implications like these grated her thick skin, but Alastor had no problem with being the straw that breaks that camel's back. He was skilled in putting people back in their place, and with her, it would be much more entertaining and much less fatal than with his other... acquaintances. He decided to tickle this sleeping dragon just a bit more, with a funny little idea in mind.
“No one is infallible – especially when they are so young. No fault in that, dear, but I'd like to be sure.”
Alastor swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her up to stand. Putting up no resistance, most likely because of sheer perplexity, he twirled her almost like in a dance, side-stepping to his chair, and sat down, pulling her onto his lap, locking her there by an arm wrapped around her waist. The look on her face was worth it's weight in gold – eyes wide, mouth agape in stunned shock, and tips of the ears reddened.
Her hands grappled the armrests so forcefully her knuckles were as white as the scars on her arms, and within seconds of regaining her active conscience she squirmed against his body.
“What... that's so... sir, please let me g...”
“There you go, dear.”, Alastor ignored her babbling, using his free hand to put the headphones on her.
Her pulse under her thin, clear skin drummed faster against him, it's heat felt like it could boil his own blood.
He grabbed his own microphone, swinging it up between their faces and leaned forward, chin resting on her shoulder and the grille brushing his lower lip. She stared, dumbstruck, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead.
He chuckled against her cheek, leaning his mouth to the mic as he pushed the switch on the control panel up, and his rich, sultry baritone echoed in her headphones.
"How about it, darling, do you hear me?"
She breathed deeply, gulping, and her heart sped up even more. Alastor smiled devilishly against her soft skin, delighted and in awe by how far he got her worked up as she just nodded sharply.
"No soundrops, feedback or small interferences?", he hummed, his voice dripping sweet honey. She took a moment to answer. "N-no... everything seems alright."
"Lovely." He almost whispered, but she heard it crystal clear through the headphones. He let a low sigh and took off his glasses with one hand, slowly, teasingly, his nose tracing over her neck, as if it was coincidental, as if he'd never ever do such a thing intentionally, putting the accessory on the table next to him, eyes locking on the hazel ones of hers mirrored in them. "Although I wonder..." He pushed the mic nearer to her mouth, seeing a tremble running over her body. "... if the higher pitches might be a problem... You wouldn't mind help with that, would you?"
She stiffened up, barely daring to breathe, her skin erupting into goose flesh underneath his lips, he felt the impulse to press them against her, lick the salt and nervousness from it.
"Sir, I-I can't.."
He chuckled at her strained, whispering voice. How beautiful was her distress, so rich, so fragrant, almost strong enough for him to savor its essence without even needing to touch her.
"Then, may I assist you?", Alastor felt himself giddy with impish delight, his hands slowly trailing upwards from her waist to her bust, cupping her gently through the thin fabric. This made her wriggle again, a small, high pitched squeak leaving her lips that his microphone just amplified in glorious reverberations. Alastor chuckled darkly as she froze, neck burning red in deep embarrassment from the sound she heard from the headphones.
"Now we're talking. A wonderful first try. But let's see what else we can get out of you, darling. After all, we want to be thorough."
His hands palmed and kneaded the supple flesh through the cotton, feeling her squirm and tremble and the warmth of her bosom, imagining the blood rushing through her heart. How exquisite was she?
He could hear a small whimper as her head slightly lowered. Was she closing her eyes? He imagined it so. Imagined she'd shut her pretty eyes closed, furrow her brows in conflict as her legs pressed against each other in fruitless desperation. Her hands tightened on the armrest.
"You are so very quiet, dear. Why don't you relax and turn the volume up for me?"
With one of his hands he quickly loosened the two buttons that kept her blouse close and tugged at the collar to widen the neck hole, then slid under her brassier and gripped one breast with a tight squeeze. Alastor caught his breath as he realized just how sensitive and sweet the freckled skin under his fingertips was. Soft. Warm. So fragile... He would never have imagined this was hiding under her daily uniform, her sagging shoulders and loose jacket hiding those lovely features. Alastor felt a delightful spark crackle in his head and shoot up the nerves of his spine. His hunting instinct pulsed under the mask. But... with a slight delay, Alastor recognized it as a different type of hunger... one of the carnal and more depraved kind. Another novelty for him.
Alastor suddenly wondered what her lips tasted like, how soft and warm would they feel on his, her teeth biting, her tongue teasing him. How many ways could he break her - and could he do it quickly, with his bare hands, with his words alone maybe, or with his undisciplined arousal pushing against her rear-end through the fabric of his trousers? How often did she think of him? How did she think of him? Did she fear him, or dislike him even? He could hear her breathing hasten as he was trying to compose himself.
There was the devil's urge to just let himself go. To shove the equipment aside and tear those outrageously inadequate clothes away from her flesh, run his hands over the skin he didn't get to see yet, trace and map those scars of hers until they fade underneath his fingers. Mark her more thoroughly than any machine mishap ever could. Make her cry, moan, beg and whine under him until there was nothing left in her and this novel hunger was satisfied.
A wonderfully loud moan escaped her, a sweet, silky, vibrato sound of passion, that went right from Alastor's chest into his pelvis. She opened her eyes wide, pressing her hand firmly over her mouth, mortified at her own pleasure.
Oh, Alastor thought to himself, smiling mischievously as the shock of lustful rapture coursed through him, how easy it was for him to undo her. So unexplored, so fresh... "Do you wish to stop, darling?", he asked with a teasing pinch of her hardened nipple, which made her cry out and her other hand fly up and cover her mouth, too. She shook her head, her cheeks flushed and hot, eyes hazed with confused pleasure. He rubbed and teased the nipple gently in his palm, holding her close, making her struggle in defiant silence. The only sound was his gentle, patient humming.
But oh, she was breaking, crumbling like a stale beignet, and the noises his hand bullied out of her turned from hushed whimpers to barely muffled groans and cries for him, long and wanting 'Sir's and 'Oh's. She was melting under his palm. He grinned wickedly, his lower body hard and wanting against her as he put the microphone to his own lips again and spoke into it.
"Say it with your words, dear, should I stop? Or is it that you can't hear me?"
"Y-yes! I mean... No sir... d-don't... stop." There was a suppressed crack in her voice, and Alastor sighed with lust at her gasping affirmation, grinding against her plushy backside. He has found it amusing to push her limits, break through her thick skin and riddle her, like an ice pick cracking open a glacier. And now it would shatter her so gorgeously.
"It's Alastor, darling." He whispered into the microphone with a dragging, sultry voice, his hand retreating from her breast, only to snake it's way to the hem of her pants. Her legs twitched, pushing together to futilely protect her modesty, but her body eagerly arched in a way that gave such easy way for his fingers to slip under the garments, feel and stroke the short, coarse hair, following it's trail, only to meet soft, silken and slippery wetness.
A startled gasp escaped her and the only reason she didn't leap up was because Alastor kept his firm grip on her waist, pulling her tight against his throbbing erection. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, exposing her delicate throat as she whimpered, hands flying from her mouth to the armrests again, gripping so hard her fingernails dug into the hard wooden surface.
He tried to restrain himself but couldn't, he testily bit into the thin, soft flesh of her neck as his fingers found their way into her entrance and dipped deep in, coating his palm in generous wetness and crooking, exploring carefully, but with a patience even he was surprised at, eyes fixated on the taut fabric as he thrust into her in tandem with the waves her body undulated at the new sensation, her sweet taste on his tongue.
"S-Sir, please...", she groaned against his hand that still remained pressed over her lips, as if it could suppress the bliss Alastor wrought her into. He withdrew his hand for a moment, fingers wet, glistening and slick, as she was breathless, but she couldn't hide how her hips were chasing his retreating touch. He leaned into the microphone, barely lifting his mouth from her neck.
"Say my name, and I shall listen, little engineer."
She hesitated for just a heartbeat, before opening her eyes, hazily staring at the ceiling as Alastor patiently waited, his fingers drawing idle circles around the sweet pearl on her outer folds. She pressed her lips together for a second, seemingly mentally preparing herself, and then opened her mouth, to give in, to submit to him.
"...A-Alastor, please..."
"I like the sound of my name from your lips, darling." He almost purred in return and resumed his movements with added vigor and focus. He put down his head on her shoulder, nuzzling into the juncture of her throat, watching her reaction and every detail of how his hand worked her over with the rhythmic hump of his hips, forcing him to breathe harshly as he was starting to be deprived of blood. He had barely noticed it, how incredibly erotic and sinful this whole thing felt not just for her, but for him, too. Partly of course, because of the chase, the coaxing, the hunt to have her call and writhe for only him, not for any of these imbeciles that tried to get their pick with her, his ears pricked and eager to savor her wanton sounds... A surprising need to be connected, closer to her than anyone ever could be in her whole life, and it made him even giddy to know no man had touched her like he was doing now, taking her purity with ease and glee.
But there was another part, something he thought slumbered too deep within him to be ever awoken, a roaring fire in his guts as the alluring, delicious scent of her arousal assaulted him like a siren's song, lulling, cajoling him with sensual desires to drown in them, to abandon all else and indulge, to completely give in and surrender. It wasn't tactical, calculating or strategic, but wild and primal and primitive, and not at all as painful or awkward to him as he had always thought it'd be.
What a revelation a woman's body could be.
He almost missed her coming into his eagerly working hand - a sudden, full-body twitch that went through her spine, a whine in her voice that ended in a choked sound as her orgasm claimed her and washed her away in the torrent of rapture - eyes going wide as the air escaped her in a desperate cry, hands gripping his thigh and the chair's armrest so hard the nails left little scratches in the wood. He barely had time to notice it before her climax hit him like a truck - the convulsing of her inner walls, gripping and spasming tightly around his fingers as he slowed and stroke out her high.
This moment was pure madness in his veins - his head foggy and airy, like a drug, like a vicious new addiction he would do almost anything for. Her body went slack against him, and the only thing that held her upright was Alastor's arm still securely around her, still keeping her pressed onto his hard length, still pulsing for some release of his own. Alastor wanted more, already was plotting what his hands could be doing to her body next as she came down from her high and back to earth, the heat leaving her body slowly as the soundproofed air trapped within the booth hung heavy with her hot breath and the smell of her passion.
The first movement of hers, after having come undone so beautifully for and on him, was to lift up the headphones.
"Well then, little engineer.", he huffed into her ear, laughing with barely hidden delight. "What is your final assessment?"
"Your microphone works perfectly. J-just like I said it would." She was determined, if nothing else. And unbearably cute when she was defiant. Alastor simply adored a fiery spirit, even as he was already thirsting for more. He looked up, her sharp tone prickling his pride. He shot her a glare from the corner of his eyes, his usually calm smile tugging upward in a half smirk as she avoided his eyes. Oh, was she starting to have second thoughts about her tone towards him?
"I always admired your work ethics and knowledge, my dear, even though you eluded my attempts to give you your well-deserved recognition." The hand not occupied in playing with her still moist, delicate flesh lifted the arm that she had still buried in his thigh, brushing his fingers lightly over her knuckles as he brought it to his lips. She went still as a stone under his fingertips. "I asked myself, what would be the reason you ignored and evaded me for so long? Do you dislike me that much, little engineering girl?"
"No." It took her a moment, a little quiver in her voice, but it seemed like this was the first time in a long while that her answer was as blunt and truthful. He sighed contentedly, planting a soft kiss on her hand. "Quite the contrary, in fact."
His eyes snapped to her, narrowed. She still refused to look at him, still tense and obviously embarrassed, her free hand trembling on her lap. So it hadn't been animosity that made her behave so coldly towards him, not aversion that made her flee his presence and not prejudice that made her avoid their encounters but...
"Ah." Alastor chuckled softly at her awkward behavior, grinning delightedly at the revelation. "Of course."
Shyness was a curious thing, he thought, often misinterpreted as either prude modesty or cold antipathy. And it seemed Alastor had fallen for the latter interpretation - he would've been miffed at the thought if it hadn't brought her here, into his lap, and into his hands - alas, better late than never, he guessed. And there was still something to take care of.
"Well, since you're not running from me now..." His hand left hers and joined his other one in pulling the belt of her pants open, gently tugging on the metal buckle until the strap slipped free. "Let me finally show my gratitude in kind, for the lovely engineer and her marvelous work."
He loosened his tight grip on her, enough so that he could turn her to face him - for once, she glanced at him from under her lashes, not only out of bashfulness now - but he thought he saw something like cautious anticipation there, too. His grin became even wider as she kept his gaze, even if barely. A last stubborn act of shy rebellion - in another situation it would have enraged Alastor, but now, he was delightfully fascinated and challenged by her stubborn nature, by the unpredictability of her reactions even now, as she herself hooked her fingers under the hem of her pants and pushed them down over her shapely hips.
The last barrier of decency fell between them, revealing the full picture before him - there was her reddened face framed by cascading locks, eyes lowered in embarrassed defeat; Her stiffened nipples prominent on her perky, tight breasts; The damp patch of dark pubic hair that barely hid her glistening privates and the plush roundness of her thighs. And the whole body covered in tiny, white streaks, healed cuts and burns scattered in between her freckles. Oh, she would be delightful to ruin over and over again.
He took a step towards her, his hands immediately moving to her hip, exploring, caressing the soft flesh. This time, she did not move away from his touch and watched him with big, wide-blown eyes, full of expectation and a new type of uncertainty as he lifted her up onto the main control panel. He discarded of his jacket, the cloth too heavy and hot for him now, and threw it aside carelessly, leaving his bow tie hanging loosely around his neck as he went back to the woman, his little prey. Her knees parted slightly when his body wedged between them, an inviting gesture from her, though Alastor suspected she herself didn't notice.
He grinned darkly, lifting her chin up by a finger, before bending over and planting a firm but restrained kiss on her lips, feeling his own skin crawl in electric stimulation, eager to finally taste her. His hands made quick work of his slacks, freeing his almost painfully erect member with a pleased sigh. From the way she gasped and her eyes widened, he could easily deduct that she had less to no experience whatsoever.
Oh, what a fortune. Alastor relished the thought of claiming precious, well kept treasures, his breath quickened as he broke from the kiss, hands running over her heated skin in swift, soothing motions, goosebumps trailing in their wake as he felt her shudder with hesitant desire beneath him. Oh, this would be fun.
"Let's be sure you'll hear my message loud and clear, this time, hm?"
He took her mouth again before she could protest, discreetly angling the microphone down with one hand just near enough where she would soon enough be connected to him. With a sly grin, he lined himself up to her waiting entrance and slowly pushed in. She stiffened at the unfamiliar invasion, a mewl muffled against his lips and hands in his shirt, and he stilled, enjoying the way her body reflexively tightened and squeezed around him as she tried to cope with the sensation of him stretching her.
She gasped as her chest heaved from the feeling, her walls convulsing around him like a vice. He allowed a low groan to escape him, she felt so gloriously tight and hot he had trouble keeping his composure, hands twitching to rut into her and just plow through.
"Ready for the final test, darling?"
"T-test...?"
He didn't bother to give her an answer as he started to move. In and out, with slow and drawn out movements, keeping his thrusts shallow at first, deep and precise enough to press against her innermost point and making her moan helplessly. The wet sounds of their coupling reached his ears, coupled with her wanton cries, an obscene and enchanting noise he was waiting for. With a mischievous smile, he picked up the headphones from where she had put them down, lifting it to one of her ears. Her face flushed in such lovely shades of red when the squelching echoes of what the mic picked up reached her ears, amplified and oh-so-clear thanks to her own handiwork.
He let out a guttural chuckle as he leaned into her, still thrusting slowly, her head falling on his shoulder and hanging onto his shirt for dear life, knuckles white as she could hear all the sweet sounds their bodies made and how they connected, each inch of her body singing praises for only him, for his size and rhythm. He could tell the moment her walls began to relax around him, squeezing the blood into his member as she took him in again and again, accepting it's size wholeheartedly with greedy eagerness.
"Such a talented woman.", he praised into her free ear, sighing at the delicious way her slick, swollen lips slid over his length, her thighs twitching against his with every single thrust and every word that fell from his lips. "Just listen to the fruits of your impeccable labor, dearest. Almost wasted in a place like this."
A moan, shaky and delirious, a shuddering sob for him, so high and flustered she sounded almost pained escaped her throat. She pressed against him and with a jolt that reverberated through her spine, convulsing so sweetly against him he almost came from the tremor that rushed through his cock. But it wasn't her peak. Alastor hadn't gotten his fill yet and he wouldn't stop now until it was both of their turns, but damn if he wasn't tempted.
He reached to the other ear to put the second headphone on her. Now her world had no escape, she could only listen, only hear every filthy wet noise of his slick slide, his ragged breathing and the beat of her own heart- a heavy, cacophonous staccato.
Her eyes were heavy-lidded, head clouded and flushed, looking up at him with rapt fascination. His own gaze met hers as his pace increased, suddenly snapping his hips with harsh precision, and his voice was low, carnal.
"But their loss is my gain, darling. Don't you ever forget that, now."
And his thoughts went to of those incompetent, thickheaded dunderheads who took their jobs, but were no where as skilled or invested as her, knowing full well they were inadequate and undeserving to get close to her, trying to touch what clearly should have been for him alone to do, and it sent a nasty spark of possessiveness through Alastor, igniting a furious hunger, a beast waking up within him and snarling with unbridled desire, to claim, to mark her as his. And nobody else's.
He grinned devilishly, a low rumble in his throat as a needy whine escaped his little engineer and he grabbed her waist tightly, digging his fingers into the fat there as he picked up speed and drilled into her with more intensity, savage, merciless and utterly ruthless, finally throwing all composure and rationality overboard to replace it with feral instinct and possessive desire. Her hands clutched him desperately, thighs tensing and pressing against his moving hips, her choked cries of his name were nothing else but heavenly and he was filled with lecherous obsession and greed - yes, he could get addicted to the sound of his name being screamed and moaned from her lips, her sweet, wet flesh fluttering around his throbbing length, the violent stuttering of her breath that just enticed and pleaded him to continue.
"Mine. My own, little, eager engineer." he hissed against the shell of her ear, headphones slipping from her, hips still pounding away at her heat with feverish pace and an undeniable pleasure coiling low and tightly within his pelvis. With every harsh thrust, every desperate, salacious cry, he pulled her deeper and deeper into sinful depravity, her head thrown back in bliss, the headphones slipping from her head as her nails scraped desperately over his clothed chest. The sharp bites of pain mixed with a sweet ache and tightening within Alastor, telltale signs of his climax nearing rapidly.
"No more avoiding me, no more elusion or flight for you, understood? You are mine and mine alone."
Her toes curled as his words spurred her over the edge with him, her core spasming and quivering around him as her moans became ragged and desperate, jaw agape in rapture but no words found as she toppled into her orgasm, dragging and taking Alastor with her. The immense wave crashed into him and swept him along, and he growled in the sensational and exhilarating feeling and his head fell against her shoulder, with a growl ripping from his throat, low and guttural. His seed emptied in her with long, forceful spurts, her body tensing and relaxing as each twitch and jerk pushed his release deeper and deeper, the pleasure so acute, so sharp it was almost painful, until both their highs subsided and Alastor had to rest against her for a moment, their labored breaths the only noise that reached his ears.
Alastor sighed contentedly, his hand loosened it's grip and his fingertips gently traced over the angry, red lines they had left behind on her tanned skin of her waist, feeling her shivering underneath him. His lips pressed into the soft crook of her neck, placing a tender kiss on the flushed skin. He would have to do something about the bruising and marks...
His eyes wandered up and he noticed that she was staring now, hazily and exhausted, her pupils still wide, lips bitten swollen and reddened, her cheeks and chest still painted pink with lingering arousal. The sight was so deliciously debauched and lewd, a smirk crept on his face.
"It seems that the equipment is indeed in perfect working order again, thanks to you, darling."
"...Yes, sir." she replied warily, her voice still breathless. Her usual demeanor returned, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes she tilted her head away from him. He chuckled, lifting her chin and capturing her lips once again, not much for hers but more for his own gain, and then moved off and out of her. He took a moment to savor the view - the red, swollen flesh, leaking his essence that pooled on the metal surface of his control panel he would work on in a few hours, and her thighs glistening in the faint orange light of the booth.
"Please, darling, from now on..." Alastor took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping the mess of his hands and cleaning her with careful gentleness, her legs twitching weakly at the contact.
"...call me Alastor."
He hummed quietly and lifted her from the console, closing the buttons on her blouse again with fastidious efficiency after she slipped back into her pants. Then, with a few quick motions, Alastor picked up his jacket and fixed his own appearance, before helping her stand properly on her trembling feet.
"I trust we won't have any misunderstandings anymore?" He smiled at her, tilting his head slightly, a soft and yet challenging smile, his hand cupping her face and the thumb brushing her lower lip. Her cheeks grew warmer and redder again, her eyes flickering downwards, then back up, before she nodded silently. "Excellent."
Alastor put the headphones back on their rack, before taking his glasses, slipping them back on and reaching for the door handle, his other hand extended towards his little engineer in an inviting motion.
"Come along, my dear. Let me treat you to a nice cup of coffee, I find there's nothing better after a job well done."
She paused, her face going a shade darker and her lips pressing together. Then, after a heartbeat, she stepped next to him and through the door he opened for her. He could see the small smile that crept onto her lips as she hurriedly passed him, a shy glance shot towards him, but this time it didn't feel like she wasn't fleeing, but almost daring for him to chase her.
Another kind of hunt, he mused, and the thought made him smile as he closed the door and followed her out.
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