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kamaluhkhan · 3 months

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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.

“what? n-no!”

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.

it just didn't seem fair.

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.

every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.”

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.

“she deserved more.”

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do.

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.”

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.

the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse.

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.”

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?”

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?”

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?”

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.

everything was falling into place.

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”

“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet.

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!

would you hate him, if you knew?

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

Note

Charles jealous and possessive please! Smut 🔥

no mercy.

CL x fem!reader - 4k celebration ✨

in which lunch with friends turns into charles reminding you that you’re all his

first 4k request up! thank you so much for this, wrote this whole thing in like half an hour bc damn this took me back to my charlie roots. i hope u love this anon, and all my lovely readers - lemme know what you think

warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, swearing, slight breeding kink, use of “slut” (in the sexy way tho!), lando causing his usual chaos (feat. shit stirrer alex), dom!charles/sub!reader, minor hints of corruption kink, slapping like once, fluffy ending

1.4k words

interesting.

the word you’d choose to describe this lunch is interesting.

charles’ hand seems to grow tighter on your thigh with every passing minute, or, to be more precise, every time lando speaks.

“so am i, ahem, are we gonna be seeing you at any races soon?” lando teases, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to alex sat beside him to cover up his slip of the tongue.

“i’ll be there whenever charles wants me there. maybe i’ll even get to see you win a race.” you laugh. you’re enjoying the company, but the impromptu lunch with the other two drivers seems to be riling your boyfriend up to new heights.

you know the brit is teasing him, and alex is lapping up the drama, stirring the pot. you certainly don’t mind if it keeps charles’ hand wandering higher up your leg. you’re just being polite, lando knows that, charles definitely knows that, but his tight smile and clenched jaw paints a different picture.

“i think we need to get going.” charles pipes up suddenly, after what feels like an eternity of silence from the monegasque man, and he throws a few hundred euros down of the table. “see you in bahrain.” he glares at lando pointedly, and extends his hand to you.

you take it, grinning apologetically at lando and alex, who both wear the same shit-eating grins. they know exactly what they’ve done and they’re lapping up the visible irritation they’ve concocted in their friend.

charles opens your door when you reach his ferrari, silently closing it and walking around to the drivers side.

 “not a word.” he grunts.

his hand slips into your panties as he starts the car, and your head tips back against the headrest.

he throws you onto the bed, no mercy, nothing forgiving behind his rage filled eyes. you wriggle up onto your elbows, watching the way his shirt sleeves are haphazardly rolled up, the way his hands rub together. your thighs clench. his jaw is ticking, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind, ideas brewing.

there’s no warning before pounces, shoving your floral dress up your thighs. he’s met with white lace, intricately textured, gone sheer with your arousal from the way he’d toyed with you in the car, and he sighs deeply, pained.

“this is what you wear out under this slutty fucking dress?” charles glares down at you, yanking at the fabric. the band snaps back against your belly and you gulp, hard. “nothing to say?” he tuts. “you didn’t seem to have a problem talking to my friends.”

“wore it for you, promise.” you whisper, eyes wide, pupils blown. charles scoffs.

“did you really? because it seems like you’ve forgotten who you fucking belong to.”

you don’t get a chance to reply because you’re stunned into silence when a tear sounds from between your thighs. you see a flash of white when he discards your underwear, throwing them to the floor. charles forces your legs apart, settling onto his belly as if he wants to examine you.

“still soaked.” he hums, impressed. “question is, cherie, for who?” he tilts his head condescendingly and your squirm.

as if to torture you, his nimble fingers trace your folds, spreading the wetness he’s created. you buck your hips at the pressure, it’s not nearly enough, and a low whine sounds from the back of your throat.

“all for you, baby.” you promise. “please, charlie.” you beg.

“is my precious girl getting desperate? hm?” he finds your clit, circling it with the pad of his calloused thumb. you nod profusely, and he’s obsessed with your compliance. “now you know how i felt watching him want you.” he spits.

charles plunges two fingers inside of you suddenly, and you cry out, grinding your hips to his rhythm. the stretch is so delicious that you barely register the burn, not that it matters with the way he’s slicked you up already.

“baby, ‘m all yours.” you’re getting desperate now, pleading with your eyes as much as you can between squeezing them shut every time your tummy tightens.

“i’m not so sure, think you need reminding still.” charles smirks, and his pace increases tenfold.

all you can hear is the wet slap of his fingers slamming into your pussy, his other hand teasing at your clit, just barely touching it. it riles you up endlessly, and your belly aches from how tight you’re clamping down around his hand.

“wanna cum.” you slur, dizzy from the shockwaves washing over you.

“ask nicely.” charles quips sternly, slapping your thigh. it sends a jolt through you and you can’t help it, spilling around his long digits.

you expect him to stop, to punish you for disobeying him, but he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s grinning when you manage to open your eyes.

“so that’s how you’re gonna be, hm? you wanna act like a slut, cherie? because believe me, i’ll treat you like one.” he speaks concisely, slowly, his voice low and threatening.

he points to your dress. “off. now.”

you scramble to peel it off, throwing it off of the bed, and your bra follows suit. you lay there bare, studying him. if you didn’t know him, love him, you’d think he’s his normal self, but you can see the way he’s digging his nails into his palm, can see the way his neck is flushed red. he unclenches his hands to undo his jeans, just enough so that his cock is on display, red and aggressively hard. you wonder how long he’s been like that.

charles kneels at the end of the bed, shifting until he’s hovering over you. the head of his cock nudges your clit, spreading the remnants of your orgasm over himself and your cunt, watching the way it flutters at the pressure. and then he’s sinking in, slow, deep. he’s heavy on top of you and you revel in the weight of him, his scent.

he grins when he bottoms out, letting out a low groan. he stills for a moment, looks at you, brushes a few strands of hair away from your pink flushed face.

“apologise.” charles coos, mockingly. your eyes well with tears, so much pressure swelling in your belly.

“charles.” you whimper, attempting to thread your fingers through his hair, but he catches your hand, sweeping up the other, and pins both of your wrists above your head.

“apologise.”

and you can’t help but ramble pathetically.

“i’m sorry, charlie, love you so much, ‘m so sorry.”

the feeling of his hips hitting yours is like water in the desert: luxurious, essential. the pace he sets is brutal, utterly fantastic, a stark contrast to anything he’s ever given to you before.

this entire experience is surreal, he usually dotes, whispers lovingly into your ear as he gently coaxes orgasms out of you. this could not be anymore different.

the power he exudes, fully clothed, rocking into your quivering, naked body turns you on endlessly, unlocking a part of yourself that you’d never let anyone else see before.

“you like it better like this, don’t you, cherie? when i fuck you hard like this?” you nod frantically. “pretending to be the sweetest little angel when really, you’re nothing but a dirty fucking girl, letting him gawk at you. bet you loved it, all that attention.” charles grunts.

you arch into him, the elastic band in your core growing that bit too tight.

“maybe i need to fuck a baby into you, make sure everyone knows you’re all mine.” he whispers.

that’s all it takes. you reach your high instantly, spurred on by the filth he spouts. the tight, hot hold you have on him makes him see stars, and then he’s cumming, too, spilling warm and white into you.

it’s quiet for a moment, the air still, the smell of sex settling over the space. you relax into the bed, and gently, he pulls out of you. he smiles softly, fingers grazing your sweat dampened face. he unbuttons his shirt as he walks to the en-suite, returning to you shirtless and with a warm, damp cloth.

you smile sleepily as he cleans you up, wiping away the mess he’s made between your legs - as best as he can, anyways - and then he strips off his jeans, and clambers into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your back is flush to his chest.

“was that okay?” he asks quietly. you roll over in his arms, raising your head to peck his jaw.

“more than okay.”

“i didn’t take it too far?”

“baby, it was perfect.” you giggle.

“you know i’m not mad at you, right? but i swear, if lando ever looks at you like that again, he won’t be having kids.”

first 4k request happy dance 🕺🏻✨

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal

lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

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simpjaes · 2 months

Text

serial-sweetheart (s.jy & p.sh)

Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Sunghoon came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Jake, has a bit of a thing for you?

MDNI!!

WORDCOUNT― 23.6k

PAIRING― shy jake x afab reader | sunghoon x afab reader

CONTENT― sunghoon and reader are 24, jake is 21. boyfriend sunghoon, perverted/shy college boy jake, panty stealing, hidden intimacy, needy jake, dom-ish sunghoon in smaller/less detailed smut scenes, reader is definitely a switch depending on who she is looking at, uh, brief mention of heeseung raging at jake through a headset while he gets pleasured lmao

WARNINGS― infidelity that doesn’t get exposed, foot job but only bc i can’t figure out how to write a scene like this if it’s not your foot lmao, there are intimate things happening between reader and jake in like, almost every fuckin scene.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because i wrote it for a different band on my other blog(@/ncteez). this is a revamp of that fic, freshly edited and updated.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― infidelity, rough sunghoon, jake listens through the walls, tons of masturbation, he also steals panties and gets caught and embarrassed by reader, mentions of double penetration, lil under the table moment with jake, foot job but i swear im not into feet just hear me out ok? It’s brief i swear, sexting and phone sex, reach-around hand job, jake isn’t entirely subby when he finally gets his dick wet, penetration, pet names, sexting, g-spot stimulation, cream pie, unprotected sex,

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The two years you’ve spent so far with Sunghoon can arguably be considered the best of your life. He’s accommodating, listens to all of your problems, touches you in all of the right ways, and he’s even well-liked by your parents. You love your boyfriend enough to spend countless nights at his place just to get away from your own. It’s comfortable there, and feels like home, whereas your own apartment just feels empty without him.

The relationship felt very adult. He was the first boyfriend to stay with you longer than a couple of months, the first one to have his own house, job, money, and car. The two of you were equal, comfortable, and happily in love. Anyone could trust that both of you were running towards the path of marriage, and you’d agree with them if it weren’t for the fact that your eye is dangerously close to landing on someone else lately.

In your defense, your eyes didn’t linger before Jake, Sunghoon’s younger brother, moved in. You had no interest in anyone aside from Sunghoon but, Jake is really something else. Cute, loud, obnoxious, and even charming at times. Still, you’ve caught him countless times staring for too long at your legs when you wear shorts around the house, lingering in the room when Sunghoon has his lips on yours, and even stuttering through conversations with you after a wild night in the bedroom with his older brother.

It was cute at first, but as the months went on, you started staring at Jake a little more. You’d note that he gets flustered easily but can’t bring himself to leave any given situation that causes such a reaction. He gets hard sometimes too, you can see it, and occasionally you can hear him take care of it too.

The first night you heard it, Sunghoon was sound asleep next to you after a long, drawn-out session of putting you in your place (sexually). You were comfortable beside him, listening to his soft snores and finally settling yourself in to close your eyes and sleep too.

It was so silent, the entire house seemed as empty as it always had been outside of you and your boyfriend, except for the fact that Jake was in this house now too. You shot an eye open at the sound of a muffled moan through the wall. You could tell he tried to prevent it, noticing that it appeared to be choked back almost as quickly as he let it fall from his lips.

You laid there, first attempting to sleep but ultimately falling victim to the thoughts of what Jake must have been doing just a wall over. You felt guilty about the images, imagining how cute he must look tugging at himself and whimpering, frustrated at how he can’t make a sound. Jake knows how thin the walls are, you’re sure of it. Even you and Sunghoon have tried to be quieter so Jake doesn’t have to hear it and feel uncomfortable.

The choked-back sounds he was letting out every few minutes only furthered your thoughts into the danger zone that night. You realized you wanted to watch him. You wanted to help him. And when Jake hit his high, you heard his bed frame hit the wall one time, hard. The image of him lying on his back and fucking against his fist was long gone and replaced with images of what position he could have been in for the bed to hit to wall like that. What was he doing?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Good morning, sunshine!” You sing out obnoxiously to your boyfriend when he rounds the corner in a sleepy show of how much he doesn’t want to go to work today. He’s already dressed but you can see the darkened bags under his drooping, half-open eyes.

You don’t often make breakfast for him, not that he minds at all, you just felt guilty about listening in on Jake doing his thing again last night and it’s not something you’re proud of. So yeah, maybe Sunghoon gets breakfast every time his little brother jerks off, what of it?

“Thanks, babe,” Sunghoon smiles at you weakly, looking at the warm breakfast you place in front of him. “What if I just call in today?” He asks almost immediately after, tearing his eyes from the food and up to you, who had begun to fix a part of his hair that he seemed to have missed.

“Up to you, I’ve gotta head back to my place soon though.” You look at him, hands on your hips now as you give him another once-over. “You look tired, maybe you should call out.”

Sunghoon takes a moment to think. What would his excuse be to miss work on a Monday morning after already having two days off? He’s sick? That wouldn’t work, he ran into one of his bosses just the night before picking up some groceries. Car trouble? Also wouldn’t work, he used that excuse last time and he swore he took his car to the shop that very day to make sure it was in tip-top shape. Death in the family? That’s just asking for bad karma.

“Ugh,” Sunghoon sighs, picking up his fork and picking around the plate. It looks delicious, honestly, but work is the last place he wants to go right now. “How are you so awake? We stayed up so late, are your legs even tired?”

You stop mid-step towards the fridge to grab some juice and turn to look at him.

“Sunghoon, my legs are killing me, and it’s your fault.”

He lets out a small laugh, giving himself a gold star for making you cum just as hard as he always did. “Yeah, guess it is my fault, isn’t it?” He prods for more compliments.

“That aside, are you going to call out or?”

He shakes his head, taking a bite and trying his best to enjoy this last hour of freedom before a nine-hour workday.

“No, I don’t think I’d have a good excuse today. You’re going home anyway too, I’d just be bored.”

“Umm–” Jake’s voice chimes in as he scuffs into the kitchen with socked feet. He yawns wide and side-eyes you only for a moment before flopping down on the chair next to Sunghoon with his legs spread wide. He looks like such a college boy. Looking equally as tired as your boyfriend and hair far messier, you note his side eye. “Are you saying I’m too boring to hang out with?”

You let out a small chuckle at Jake’s words, and Sunghoon just groans about it.

“You’re still just as annoying as you’ve always been. I’d rather be wasting away at a desk than sitting here listening to you talk about the exam you’re not studying for.”

“I don’t have exams yet?” Jake protests, looking over Sunghoon's food and swiping a piece from his plate. “The semester hasn’t even started.”

“I’m preparing for what’s to come–” Sunghoon drones on in a defeated voice.

“Fair,” Jake smiles and looks at you. “So, um, you’re going home today?”

“Yep, gotta go to work too.” You sigh, pointing towards the stove. “Want some food?”

Jake shuffles to his feet to make himself a plate with a small “thank you”, and you can’t help but notice how disappointed he sounds that you’re going home today.

“You’re coming over on Wednesday though, right?” Sunghoon asks, sipping the mug of coffee in front of him and finally allowing himself to enjoy the food you’ve graciously made this morning. If he’s gonna have to go to work, the least he can do is feel lucky that he’s not going in on an empty stomach.

“What’s on Wednesday again?” You smile towards your boyfriend’s now narrowing eyes.

“You know what Wednesday is.”

“Hm, no, don’t think I do–” Smiling wider at the way his eyes narrow even further.

“What’s Wednesday?” Jake asks, setting down his plate and taking a bite.

“Yeah, tell him what Wednesday is.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, one that you can tell is a joke. He always plays along with your antics.

“I think it’s like, national fork day or something.”

Sunghoon brings a hand to his forehead with a laugh. “Fork day? That’s all you can come up with?”

Jake is just confused, clearly.

“I’m joking. It’s our two-year anniversary.”

You hear a spoon clatter to the table and a small cough.

“Ugh-” Jake groans, picking the cutlery up off the table and wiping the crumbs clean. “That’s cool.”

Jake can see the way Sunghoon looks at him with his reaction, but it genuinely wasn’t intentional. He just happened to drop his spoon at the wrong time and choke on his food. It wasn’t meant to be as dramatic as it sounded. Also, maybe he’s a little shocked that Sunghoon managed to have a girlfriend for this long with how much of a bore he can be at times.

Especially someone like you.

Jake feels shy at the very idea of you, not just because he’s heard what you sound like when his brother touches you, but also because you’re just, like, really pretty and it makes his thoughts go in every direction when you speak to him.

Even now, just over a small breakfast, he’s disappointed that you have a job too. He’s sad that he can’t spend time in this house with you alone even though he knows well enough that he probably wouldn’t have it in him to approach you.

Or does he? Knowing that from time to time, like when he first moved in, there had been some days where you stayed over and did your work-from-home stuff. He wasn’t well acquainted with you back then enough to come out and sit with you, and he’s likely not acquainted enough now either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he kind of wants to be around you without his brother taking note of the small crush he kind of maybe developed by being around you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today is expected to be more exciting than your last anniversary. Mostly because it’s marking a second year with Sunghoon and solidifying the fact that the two of you have made it this far without any glaring issues that could threaten the relationship. At least, no issues that Sunghoon is aware of.

You think that these thoughts and images of Jake swimming in your head are a phase. In fact, you hope they are. There’s no way you’d ever actually go through with anything involving your boyfriend’s little brother. He’s just kind of cute to see all flustered, even cuter when he tries to hide how he’s feeling regarding you.

Jake isn’t there when you walk through your boyfriend’s door. Unfortunately, neither is Sunghoon.

Grabbing your phone and checking the time you’re distracted by the glaring text message from your boyfriend that seemed to have been sent some ten minutes ago as you got in your car for the drive over. A little wave of disappointment hits you as you stand alone in the darkened kitchen.

Sunghoon: hey i’m gonna be a little late. Boss got a last minute client today, like an hour before closing time so i’m gonna be here at least until 8:30

Sunghoon: is that okay?

The disappointment fades away with how good he is at communicating with you. Your last boyfriend who you only dated for like two months always bailed without notice on dates, ghosting you for a full day or two before explaining himself with one of the same excuses Sunghoon probably uses to get out of work. You know his job is important to him, and you know the anniversary is important to him. His priority doesn’t always have to be you.

You: Yeah that’s fine. What am i supposed to do for three hours though? I’m already at your place (sparkly eye emoji)

Sunghoon is great at texting you back too.

Sunghoon: you could get yourself ready for me to come home ;)

You: for 3 hours?

Sunghoon: yes???? or you can just go bug Jake lol

The silence in the house tells you that Jake isn’t home.

You: he’s not here, i figured he went out to give us some privacy?

Sunghoon doesn’t respond for a few minutes, probably because he’s doing something important with his work. By the time you’ve slipped off your shoes and laid against the couch, you get the little ping on your phone..

Sunghoon: Oh, right, he was gonna go meet with some girl he was talking to. I figured he’d chicken out and not go lol, maybe we really will have the house to ourselves tonight ;)

Something inside of you twists at his message. On one hand, you’re happy that you might get the entire house with your beloved boyfriend tonight, on the other hand, you kind of don’t like the thought of Jake losing the ability to get all flustered around you if he’s got someone else doing it for him.

Are you jealous? No, but you’re a little selfish. You always liked when men chased you even if you knew it would lead nowhere, even if they knew it would lead to nowhere. It was harmless fun, but now all of your fun is gonna be ruined. The last thing you want to be hearing is Jake railing some girl in his room while you’re trying to sleep.

You: oh yeah? lets hope we don’t have to be quiet tonight then, i have //plans//

Sunghoon: plans?

You: better get done with work soon so can come home and see <3

With that, you set your phone down and reach for the remote.

Jake is out with a girl right now? Part of you wonders how he’s navigating it, or if the girl is actually into him. The images in your head are amusing until you realize that you’re not imagining him stumbling over himself with some faceless girl. You’re imagining yourself as the girl he’s out with.

Even on your anniversary, you’re bored and you’ve got some hours to kill anyway. You sort through all sorts of images in your head. From what Jake would do if you were to reject him to what he would do if you didn’t reject him. How he would act if you were leaning in to kiss him, or how he would react if you kissed his neck, started touching his stomach, trailing your hands down– straight until you’re assuming that Jake must be getting a hand job somewhere right now. A little disappointed that it’s not you, you laugh at yourself.

Silly thoughts like these are normal and you’re sure Sunghoon has them too. Despite the fact that you’d be weirded out if it were about your little sister if you had one. You’re not hurting anyone passing the time and thinking about how things would go with Jake. Surely not. It’s just a fantasy and nothing more.

It will never be anything more.

Besides, Sunghoon was never shy toward you. Always shooting his shot in charming and convincing ways that have managed to lead to a two-year relationship that’s still going strong. He didn’t leave as much to the imagination at the beginning of your relationship, nor does he now. You can’t even imagine Sunghoon being insecure or lacking confidence in anything he does, but then there’s Jake. The little brother appears to live in the shadow of Sunghoon. From Jake attending college for the same thing to wanting the same woman that Sunghoon is in love with.

Are you too full of yourself for chuckling about that? Laughing at the fact that he’s so entirely different from your boyfriend but that’s the exact reason you find yourself fantasizing about the ‘what if’s’ with him?

Now the thought of what Jake would do if he knew you were thinking about him this way infiltrates your mind. Would he panic? Surely. Would he blush? Oh yeah, for sure. Would he try to play it off as a joke until realizing you’re serious, visibly shivering as you watch him imagine? Oh– would he tell Sunghoon? Would he get cocky? So many thoughts that are both scary, cute, and…hot.

You look at the clock on your phone again and realize how slowly the time is passing. Jake’s out getting tugged at by some girl, Sunghoon is at work being an obedient employee, and what are you doing? Sitting on the couch in a daze.

Glancing around a bit, you shake your head at a specific thought.

Jake’s room.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Against your better judgment and several hours on hand to spend, you find yourself in Jake’s room. Because of course you do.

You don’t know why your legs carry you here, but then again you kind of do. Curiosity. You don’t really plan on snooping or anything, you just kind of want to see how he lives when he’s by himself. You want to see if he made his bed or folded his clothes. When you note that the loser definitely does not do either of those things, a flash of pastel blue is catching your attention.

In the mess of Jake’s room, monochrome colors of black and gray come through the most. From sweatpants to band t-shirts, you weren’t expecting to see a glimmer of pastel silk peeking from under one of his pillows.

It wouldn’t have caught your attention if it wasn’t for the fact that you recognize the color and even remember the day you purchased them. Those are your panties stuffed under Jake’s pillow.

You find yourself smirking in an evil kind of way as you make your way toward the dainty fabric and pull it from the pillow. You can confirm it now, they’re yours, and you remember wearing them just the past weekend you were over. It was normal for you to leave some of your laundry at Sunghoon’s place after staying the weekend, it’s not like you aren’t here multiple times a week or anything.

Jake must have taken them from the laundry basket in the bathroom. The thought of him that morning when you made breakfast, acting as casual and normal as ever. The harsher thought of how you listened to him again after Sunghoon had fallen asleep the night before, furiously reaching his climax.

You spread the fabric against your fingers and laugh at the stain on them. This must have been what he was using that night, thinking of you, surely, right? God, Sunghoon would kill him if he found out.

And just as you go to look around to see if he’s stolen more of your intimate wares, you hear the front door open and you panic, shoving the panties into your back pocket and rushing out of his room to the bathroom just across the hallway.

In your slight panic, you manage to stand by the bathroom door and listen to the footsteps coming down the hallway. It’s definitely Jake because Sunghoon would have called you to let you know he was coming home.

Checking the clock again, it’s barely six and you’ve now got two or so hours pretending that you didn’t just find your panties in Jake’s room. Or, maybe, you don’t have to pretend. Maybe you can just fluster and embarrass him more now.

You reach over and flush the toilet and then step to the sink to actually wash your hands because you definitely were just handling cum-stained panties, and then you step out of the bathroom acting surprised that he’s here.

“Oh!” You exclaim, stepping out of the bathroom and looking directly at Jake through his bedroom door as he’s in the middle of throwing himself against the bed in frustration. “Didn’t think you’d be here today?”

Jake nearly jumps out of his skin despite knowing someone was in the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting to be addressed by you or Sunghoon today.

“Yeah, me either.” He groans, throwing his hand over his face. “You scared the fuck outta me–”

“Ah, you seem frustrated. Why?” You ask, taking a step forward and leaning against the doorframe to his room, crossing your arms. “Sunghoon said you were on a date or something?”

Jake groans again, lifting his back from the mattress to sit up and starts shaking his head in defeat. The fact that you’re talking to him right now only makes him feel worse. He’s embarrassed enough by the happenings of the past hour or so, now he has to sit here and answer your questions about it?

“Yeah, I was supposed to be but she ended up just using me as a ploy.”

You only chuckle because of course that’s the type of shit that’ll happen to him, but also like, you’re kind of glad the date wasn’t a date, even if he didn’t know it.

“A ploy?”

“Turns out, she was just trying to make some guy jealous. He literally served us our drinks. ”

“Oh yeah? Then what happened?” You question, prying now.

“When he was coming up to the table, she told me to kiss her so I did. Then as soon as he walked away, she was back on her phone and texting. She accidentally texted me I guess, saying that ‘the plan is working, he’s definitely jealous’.” Jake mocks the text message in a whiny voice.

You laugh a little louder this time, eyes darting to the pillow he had your panties tucked under.

“Why are you laughing? I’m miserable.” Jake is casual when he talks about it, but you note that he lets out a small chuckle too. “Why would someone even use me to make a guy jealous?”

You freeze for a second. Here’s your first opening.

“Because you’re cute?”

Jake freezes now too, glancing away from you with what you think is that shyness you’d seen so much before. It’s definitely shyness, if his quick-flushed cheeks are anything to go by.

For Jake, out of everything that’s just happened to him, at least you think he’s cute, but it’s not like he can have you or actually use your compliment as an ego boost considering you’re dating his big brother.

“Anyway,” You offer an out, noting his avoidance a little more now that you know what he’s been doing in his free time with your personal items. “Sunghoon will be home later for our anniversary, sorry for what you’re gonna hear later–”

Second opening.

“I know it’s weird to ask but I left a cute pair of panties last time I was here. They’re his favorite. I can’t find them.”

Jake stands to his feet quickly and casually throws his jacket over the pillow you had pulled them from earlier. Upon the very mention of your panties, he feels caught, like he’s got three shining spotlights directed at him to warn you of the panty thief.

“I don’t know, what color were they?” He awkwardly asks, trying to avoid looking at you, not even questioning that you’re asking him when you’ve never so much as asked what he does in his free time. He can’t even tell that he’s telling on himself right now.

“Light blue, silk.” You deadpan, looking at him.

“Oh, I might have seen them in the laundry. I’ll go look.”

Before you can even protest, Jake is shuffling past you and rushing towards the laundry room. You follow behind him casually, not in the slightest bit of a hurry with a cheeky smile hidden from his view.

“I already checked in here. The dirty laundry too.”

“Did you check Sunghoon’s drawers? He did laundry yesterday, they’re probably in there.”

Jake is talking so fast that it’s almost sad. If you could pinch his flushed cheeks right now, you would.

“Smart boy.” You compliment with a finger in the air, walking towards Sunghoon’s room just to see what Jake will do next when you tell him they’re not there.

You lazily look through all of your panties stuffed into Sunghoon’s drawers and head back out to Jake’s room after a few moments. Quietly, you peek around the door and only laugh at him when you see that his pillow is overturned and he’s digging through a clothes pile in the corner of his room. The fact that he didn’t even close his door is hilarious, but you imagine it was an afterthought considering time is against him.

“Did you find them?” You ask, watching him nervously stop searching and stay in place on the floor facing away from you. You can practically tell the cold sweat that hit him.

“N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?”

“Yep.” You say, pulling the panties out of your pocket.

Jake relaxes, choosing to believe that somehow, the panties he had tucked under his pillow managed to walk themselves to the laundry room, step into the washer, then the dryer, and then place themselves neatly into Sunghoon’s drawer. Never will he let himself think that you found them, or even worse, Sunghoon found them.

When his shoulders relax and he turns to look at you, you see him stiffen up just as much as before when you swing the panties around your finger, stopping to present them in a way that shows the massive cum stain.

“Guess Sunghoon needs to find a new favorite, huh?” You joke, tossing them onto Jake’s bed and walking away.

As you walk down the hallway with a smile on your face, you can hear Jake’s frantic footsteps rush up behind you.

“Wait! It’s not–” He tries to explain the situation away. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“My panties under your pillow aren't what it looks like?” You turn to face him at the end of the hallway, and with the way he was quickly following you, he runs directly into you and has to stumble back from the close proximity of you in front of him. He’s never even touched you before. Never hugged you, prodded you, or even looked at you for too long when your eyes were already on him.

“No–” He goes to say with a deep swallow of nervousness, but you interrupt him.

“Jake, you’re lucky it was me who found them and not your brother.”

“I know,” Jake stutters out, looking to the floor. “But really, I didn’t mean to-”

“If you didn’t mean for me to find them, you should have stuffed them further back. They were hanging out for anyone to see, Jake.”

He stops for a moment. You’re telling him how he should have hidden them?

“Wait–”

Only now does Jake realize your comment of Sunghoon needing to find a new favorite pair of underwear before you tossed them back on his bed. He’s gotta be thinking too positively to imagine you’re giving him the panties and offering tips on how to keep them from Sunghoon, right? Like you only gave them back because you’re disgusted by him, right?

“Really, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I took them.”

An admittance. You feel like you’ve won the game and you’re definitely in the position to ask more questions.

“You don’t? Try and think of a reason then.” You ask, taking a step towards him.

You can see how that single step forward overwhelms him, so much so that he takes a step back, feeling frozen when his eyes glance up at yours. He can’t pull his eyes away this time with the way you’re looking at him.

There’s a smirk against your lips and he can’t sense a single bit of anger. Cautiously, he tries to avoid your question.

“I don’t know why.” He repeats, staring down at you as you look at him and take another step forward.

“I think we both know why you stole them.” You smile wider, lifting slightly to where you’re just inches from his face. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” He sighs out, somewhat lost in your gaze as if he has managed to become hypnotized by the way you’re speaking with him. Then he shakes himself out of it, taking a step back with a muttered out string of “I mean, no!”

You close in against him just as you did before, not allowing him to escape the hold you have on him. You’re just as close as you were before he stepped back, and you continue.

“You did? Do you listen in on what Sunghoon does to me too?”

Jake takes another step back, this time knowing full well that you’ll just follow him again. And you do, practically walking him back through the hallway and against the wall after passing his room.

“I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.”

You smile as he tries to back himself up further against the wall.

“Why not all the time?” You follow up, watching the way his lip quivers a bit from the nervousness within him.

Unbearably cute is what Jake is at this moment, trapped and caught.

“You guys get too quiet, I guess?” He answers as if it’s his own question, wondering if it’s what you want to hear. His belly is doing flips though, admitting these things to you and feeling as if you’ll make fun of him, mock him, tell on him. It’s a horrifying thought.

“You’re too quiet sometimes too.” You smile before backing away and turning to walk back toward the end of the hallway.

Jake hangs his head wondering what the fuck just happened and if you were actually implying certain things toward him. He can barely bring himself to care that you hear him masturbate. He tries to be quiet, honestly, he does. But it’s hard sometimes when he’s rubbing his cock against the silk of the panties you just gave back to him, even harder when he’s hearing you through the walls and he imagines if you’d make the same sounds for him.

Pulled from his thoughts, he hears you turn the volume up on the tv before shouting at him.

“Jake?” You say, waiting for him to respond quietly from out of view.

“Yeah?” He responds as he makes his way back to his room.

“I’ll be loud tonight.”

Jake closes his bedroom door feeling like his body is on fire and like his mind is spiraling into a place where it shouldn’t be.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When Sunghoon got home, Jake made it his mission to not step foot out of his bedroom until the two of you were passed out. Thankfully, he had taken a quick bathroom break while also trying to avoid letting you hear that he left his room right before Sunghoon came back.

Jake almost feels like prey right now, additionally, he’s confused about the entire situation with you.

He tried to be a good person and not fantasize about his brother’s girlfriend by making a profile on a dating app, but even now as he scrolls through all of the pretty faces, he knows that none of them would just let him steal their panties like you did. Not that it’s a hobby of his or anything, he saw your panties and he took the chance to give him a better orgasm next time around. Now he’s kind of obsessed with the idea though.

He had already placed the panties back under his pillow and stuffed them further back by now, and hearing you and Sunghoon in the living room doing couple-things doesn’t really help the confusion in his head. If you’re in there all lovey-dovey with his brother, why did you get up so close to him earlier? Why did you offer to be loud for him? Why did you do any of what you did?

It feels wrong that everything just makes him want you more. Before, he was just being a horny guy, but now he’s like, maybe only horny for you.

Maybe it’s just a phase, surely it’ll pass. He loves his brother.

Then he finds himself questioning if that’s the truth as the night goes on.

Jealousy is a hateful demon. When he hears the shuffling into Sunghoon’s room and the giggles coming from both of you, Jake almost wants to hit someone. Why can’t he have that? Why does Sunghoon always get to experience all the good things in life?

Not only was Jake used by some pretty girl today, he is now being shown yet again what he can’t have and will probably never have. The jealousy is only worse, as he faceplants into his pillow and considers moving back in with his parents so that way he can stop wanting what his brother has.

The consideration is furthered when he grows frustrated at the sounds of you through the wall. He can even hear Sunghoon shush you a few times.

Unfortunately, against Jake’s will, his cock starts to grow against the mattress and his thigh, fingers now tucking further under the pillow to find those silk panties that caused his ultimate demise today. It’s instinctual at this point, despite how shameful he feels. He seriously just can’t resist touching himself when he hears you, even through the frustration and annoyance.

When he runs his fingers along the fabric, still tucked beneath the pillow, he whines to himself at how pathetic it is for him to keep doing this. Only when he realizes that you’re over there being fucked and being loud specifically for him to hear does he pull them out and roll over onto his back.

All confusion and worry is left behind now as he replaces those anxieties with the idea of you grinding against him while wearing these panties. He thinks about how you like it, how you move your body, what you’d do with your hands.

His cock twitches to be free just a few moments later and he doesn’t think twice about lowering his sweatpants and staring down at himself. He sighs in defeat at the image, noting how much harder he is now compared to the nights before when he weakly worked himself up to the faint sounds of you

From across the wall, you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Jake kind of falls into the back of your guilty mind as your boyfriend loves on you. Sunghoon came home excited, a hand was on you the entire time from the moment he walked through the door until now. Both hands are on you now as he praises you and pries your legs open.

Usually, Sunghoon is rougher. He’d do things that drive you insane, edge you, and deny you pleasure over and over again until he felt it was time to let you let go. The added attempts to be silent only made it more fun for your boyfriend, gagging you with his cock, fingers, or even your own panties. Tonight though, tonight is a little different considering it is the two-year anniversary of his relationship with you.

The plan you had for Sunghoon tonight was for him to use a new toy on you that you’d bought in secret. He always wanted to try double penetration with you but is never willing to share you, and you don’t mind that at all. Still, you wanted to fulfill one of his fantasies, and that’s what the intention is.

To your surprise though, Sunghoon leaves the toy still in its package on the table and has been eating you out for a solid twenty minutes already.

He’s focusing on you entirely at this moment and it’s got your head spinning with the way his wet tongue flicks your clit while his lips envelop the entire bud. He’s so good at it, and usually only does this when you’ve been extra good for him, like if you willingly choke on his entire length or you let him overstimulate you to the point that getting head from him is painful.

His head is between your legs lapping away and all you can do is groan out for him, enjoying the way he’s being gentle and pointed with his tongue. His hands go from your legs to keep them from crushing his head to reaching up to massage your tits. He doesn’t even try to silence you, and you’re thankful to keep your promise to Jake despite not actually trying to right now.

And when Sunghoon pulls his head back for a breath, he looks up at you and whispers a small “happy anniversary, baby–” before smiling in such a genuine way that it has your heart crashing with the amount of love you have for him.

He dips back in after the loving words, hugging both of your thighs with his arms and burying his face into you for another ten minutes before, well, he grows a bit bored. He wants to make you cum this way and make it last as long as possible, but now he’s feeling neglected and the image of you with that toy you got is burning images in his mind the more he hears you moan for him.

“Changed my mind,” Sunghoon mutters as he pulls back for a breath and leaves your clit entirely abandoned.

He hears you whimper at the loss of pressure and honestly, he’s always loved the way you sound when you do it. He finds himself reaching for the toy much quicker than he originally planned, soothing you through your disappointment with a fond voice.

“Play with yourself while I get this ready.” He smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead before fumbling with the box.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The fact that Jake can hear his brother tell you to play with yourself makes him feel insane. Only because of the way you start moaning again and give him even more to think about while over here all alone.

Fuck, the thought of walking in on you one day with your fingers inside of yourself, not quite reaching where you want them to, asking him to take over for you?

Jake almost wants to put his ear to the wall.

Wait, why shouldn’t he? He wants to hear you.

Cock still in hand and tangled against your panties, he shuffles to his feet and presses his ear against the wall. You sound much more clear now when he chokes back his own moan, knowing you’d probably hear it more clearly too considering how loud he is.

Knowing you can hear him though? That means Sunghoon can also hear him, so he tries his best to hold it back as he starts thrusting himself against the silk in his hand.

He does well until he hears a choked-out whimper, a slap, and some crude words coming from his brother’s lips. On any other day of listening in, his cock would instantly go soft hearing his brother but what he says to you through these thin as fuck walls has him biting his lip in an attempt to silence his own moan.

“You like being stuffed with two?” Jake hears at first, followed by another whimper from you. “So wet, it slid right in beside me–”

Jake can’t even imagine what’s being done to you right now but he can tell you’re loving it in the way your whimpers turn to full-fledged moans that he’s never heard before.

“Oh, fuck–” Jake groans out towards himself, looking down at his painfully hard cock against your panties. Dripping, absolutely an utter fucking mess in his own palm over you.

He starts to move his hand this time, faster than what his hips were doing. Only part of him is trying to match the sounds of skin slapping skin, moving his hand much faster than what he’s hearing happen to you.

He’s sure you’d moan like that for him too. Wouldn’t even need two to make you be so loud, surely.

And then he’s starting to shake, rolling his head a bit to where his forehead is against the wall. He’s shamelessly out of breath when he whispers his own words to you as his cock begins to fucking weep his cum against your panties. Words of, ‘yeah, you like that?’ and “Better than him, right?”

And when Jake backs away from the wall, allowing the muffled sound of your loud moaning to be further and further from his ear, he collapses on his bed in a deep breath and then trails his eyes back over towards the wall.

You’re right there.

You know exactly what he’s doing in here but now he can’t tell if you’re actually being loud because you told him you would, or if it’s because Sunghoon really is that good.

The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s been days since your anniversary and now that work is finished, you get to head back over for your regular weekend with Sunghoon. Except now you wonder how awkward it’s going to be. The soreness between your legs has gotten better but the guilt of how Jake avoided you the next morning got worse.

You think you should leave it be, you should just let him have those panties and pretend it never happened, pretend you never flirted with him, and pretend you didn’t tell him that you listen to him get off too.

You went too far on your fucking anniversary then proceeded to fall even more in love with Sunghoon.

Thankfully, you didn’t go far enough to where it couldn’t be salvaged, so when you leave today, you have the promise in your head that you will leave it alone. You will leave Jake alone and go back to what you were with Sunghoon before you ever fantasized about his little brother.

Except that doesn’t happen because the moment you walk in and see Jake lounging by himself on the couch, shirtless, you find yourself avoiding him more than he’s avoiding you.

Though he immediately got up when you walked through the door with a small apology and rushed towards his room, you had to stop yourself from turning around and going straight back home. Sunghoon is here though, back turned towards you as he stirs something in a bowl.

“Hey babe, can you come help me?” Your boyfriend calls out, glancing at you from over his shoulder and showing the smallest glimpse of something smeared against his cheek.

Your heart warms at how domestic he looks right now, kicking your shoes off and heading towards him with your weekend bag.

“I'll be back in a minute, let me put my bag in your room.” You say, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his shoulder.

He lends you a short nod in response, turning his attention back to his mixing bowl with a smile plastered across his face. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss you, honestly.

And as you make your way down the hallway to Sunghoon’s room, you note how Jake’s door is closed. You’re thankful for that, as the image of his stupidly attractive shirtless body still appears to be fucking burned into your brain.

It’s stupid, honestly, you have a whole Sunghoon in the kitchen waiting for you, who will probably make you cum a minimum of three times tonight, and you’re panic-walking past his little brother’s bedroom because you’re incredibly fucking attracted to him.

Ridiculous.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The self-control you once had is no longer present in your head. The plan to leave it be is less and less attractive in your brain the more you take in the image of Jake in front of you at the table texting away on his phone.

You watch him shamelessly as Sunghoon goes back and forth in the kitchen. You’re almost completely skewed from his view, thanks to the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, as you sit here across from Jake. He’s wearing a shirt now, rude, and is only glancing at you from time to time.

He’s not saying a damn thing to you though, which is annoying.

What happened to you avoiding him? No, what happened to him avoiding you?

From under the table, you gently kick against his leg to get his attention and his eyes snap up toward you. You look down instantly, pretending as if you weren’t kicking him to get his attention at all. All so you’re the one ignoring him instead.

But your leg stays there, occasionally kicking against him just to see how long it takes for him to stop reacting to it.

Scrolling through your own phone now, you’re swiping through videos, listening to Sunghoon clattering through the cupboards, and feeling incredibly warm sitting in front of Jake. You don’t know what’s gotten into you when it comes to him, honestly.

Finally, you slowly trail your eyes back up to his face and note that he does the same, at the exact same time.

The two of you share a moment of silence looking at each other. You can almost feel his eyes pull you in without intent. It feels dangerous just to look at him, seeing him in a newer light than what you’d seen in him when it was just amusement on your end. You wonder if he can tell. Probably not.

He doesn’t look away from you, and you’re not sure why. He just stays still and silent, blinking back at you.

Maybe he’s being pulled in too, like a silent agreement communicated just through eye contact. The electricity in the space between the two of you is nothing short of dangerous. Your body almost acts on its own when you raise your lips into a half smile at him and plant your foot on the chair between his legs.

Still keeping eye contact, you watch him jump at the action but he doesn’t move or push your foot away. Instead, he’s breaking eye contact and looking down, staring down, really, at how your socked foot is planted directly between his legs.

He doesn’t move, trailing his eyes back to you now with a curious look. You continue, pressing your foot forward just slightly. Jake jumps again at the feeling and shoots his eyes to the opening of the kitchen.

Sunghoon is still facing away, stirring something in a pot on the stove. Thank fuck.

He’s not strong enough to push your foot away. In fact, he can hardly comprehend the situation at all, or why he presses his hips forward out of need rather than want. He knows it’s wrong to have you touching him in any way whether it’s your foot or not, this is not okay to be doing. But god, he yearns for you so badly. He’ll take anything, everything he can get.

You smile wider, watching the way his face tries to stay casual as he gently scoots forward and presses himself further against your foot. Only now, satisfied, do you look back down to your phone as if you didn’t just do that, and like you’re not keeping your foot in place for Jake to grind against.

The fact that he’s actually doing this at all is enough for you to feel warm on the inside. All you were going to do was experimentally cross a line to see what would happen. This is a much better outcome compared to him rushing out of the room in a panic.

It doesn’t take long before you start giving more pressure against his weak grinds. Each time you glance up just to get a look at his poker-face, you can tell he’s looking at you in disbelief and shifting his eyes to keep checking for Sunghoon.

You can tell he grinds harder when Sunghoon isn’t at risk of seeing, and he moves more weakly when his alarm bells are ringing. If anything, the fact that Jake is falling apart in front of you and trying to pretend he isn’t is enough to have you pressing forward more.

You smirk as you scroll to watch another video, feeling his cock twitch against your foot, and god, he’s really that desperate? You hate how much you like it and hate even more that you’re so fucking attracted to him doing this right now.

When you glance up again, this time because you really can’t help yourself at this point, you note that Jake is really trying to concentrate on looking normal despite his body obviously shifting back and forth under the table.

He’s insanely obvious, and already it makes even you panic at the fact that he’s really losing his ability to remain calm.

“Jake, have you seen this meme?” You fake laugh out loud, mostly to stop him from getting too into it and blowing the cover.

He jerks his hips back with an annoyed groan, realizes where he is and what’s between his legs, and then jumps back into an act.

“No, I don’t think so–” He says nervously, leaning forward to see your phone.

You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer over the table, lifting him from his seat and whispering as quickly as you can.

“You need to stop being obvious–” You warn before releasing him and turning your phone to show him the video.

Jake lets out a fake laugh at the video, shifting his eyes to you apologetically before seating himself back down and looking dead into your eyes.

There, he feels you adjust your foot again, this time further into his chair where you can blatantly feel how desperately hard he’s gotten over this.

Jake can’t just sit here and let this continue for too long, despite really, really fucking needing the touch. And it sucks, considering it’s the first time you’ve actually come onto him and it just has to be with Sunghoon barely even a room over?

God, fuck. Fuck!

Right here, right now, Jake decides he’s going to take what he can get, even if it makes you feel sorry for him.

You’re shocked when you feel his hand grab your foot and hold it in place before very harshly grinding against it. Watching him from across the table, he makes it very obvious as to what he’s doing but still, you find yourself falling apart at the way he parts his lips, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to hold back a moan.

Then, just as quickly as he started, you feel him push your foot away and he’s scooting back in his chair.

“I left something in my room. I’ll be back.” Jake says sheepishly, looking to the floor and rushing into the hallway.

You watch him rush out of the room confused, so you look behind you hoping Sunghoon didn’t like, make eye contact with him or something. It doesn’t appear he did though, because you see him waist-deep bent over in the fridge looking for something.

Jake needed to like, not come in his pants from that. Not in front of you. Not in front of his own fucking brother.

He doesn’t even fucking like feet! But, well, he likes you.

You offered pressure and he fucking took it. He needed to finish himself off and not have to sit there in cum-soiled pants pretending like it didn’t just happen. So, naturally, he ran to his room to finish himself off out of frustration. Thankfully he’s close enough to reach climax within two to three strokes, right there leaning against his door.

Embarrassed by the small sob he let out during his orgasm, he’s quick to rush to the bathroom and clean up before grabbing a hoodie from his room and throwing it on over the t-shirt, mostly so it does look like he actually came in here to grab something.

Not even five minutes pass before he’s sitting in front of you again. Jake feels helpless in the way he can no longer bring himself to avoid looking at you, all the way up until Sunghoon peeks into the room and announces that he thinks he’s perfected the soup recipe, and is ready for you guys to come try it.

You, on the other hand, didn’t look at Jake after he came back. Not much, anyway. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s mostly just that you’re coming to terms with the fact that you just crossed a line and you’re not sorry about it. Even after Sunghoon places a spoon at your lips and the soup is definitely the most delicious he’s ever made.

Even after he’s got his arm around you at the table with that same loving smile plastered on his lips, sitting across from his little brother who just eye fucked you while grinding against your foot, you struggle to decide who you’d rather look at.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The events of yesterday stay fresh on your mind as Sunghoon lays next to you half-awake and scratching against his arm before cuddling in closer to you. He’s so warm and all you can do is wonder why you're risking this comfort to have fun with his little brother.

You’ve already crossed a line and gone too far. You did exactly what you said you weren’t going to do and exactly what you never thought you could do. You’re probably not going to be able to stop even if you wanted to, so you opt to just–not think about when it’s gonna happen again or if it’s gonna happen again.

Saturday almost flies by and before you know it, all three of you are lounging in the living room to watch a movie. Usually, Jake isn’t as present when you’re with Sunghoon but since everything started, he makes himself known much more.

He includes himself in things and engages in more conversation. You wonder if it’s because he’s waiting for you to do something again. The worst part about all of it is that you can tell Sunghoon is enjoying the time he’s spending with you and Jake together.

Even during this movie, Sunghoon doesn’t think twice when you lean against him and throw your legs over Jake’s lap to get comfortable. Alternatively, Jake thinks three to four times over when you do it, opting to keep his hands at his sides when he steals a glance at you and notes that you’re comfortable under his brother’s arm.

The movie goes on like that and Jake can’t help but feel like it’s taking forever to be over with. Then again, he’s staring at your legs on his lap more than the movie on the screen. It gets worse when there's a jumpscare and your legs are tensing up and moving around against him.

At least this time it’s not your fucking foot and he’s got a calf muscle to work with.

You did it both intentionally and unintentionally. You weren’t exactly throwing your legs on him to get him to rub against them or anything, it was mostly just to fluster him, but Jake proves himself as someone with zero self-control once again.

You feel him twitch under your legs and shamefully, you immediately feel arousal drip between your legs. The fact that he gets you so riled up so fast will always be a mystery to you, honestly.

The good news? Being turned on isn’t so bad right now, considering you have Sunghoon right here to help you take care of it without much convincing.

Adjusting yourself, you pull your legs from Jake and take a second to focus on his lap. The tent in his pants is obvious, but Sunghoon pays no mind as his eyes stay on the screen. You watch the way Jake covers himself quickly and looks at you in confusion.

As he looks at you, you move a bit to look at Sunghoon.

Without warning, your boyfriend is thrown off guard by you suddenly kissing his neck. If Jake doesn’t have self-control, neither do you.

And in your defense, you’re not trying to dangle your relationship in front of him, really, you’re not. It’s not your fault that Jake got hard and that caused a chain reaction in getting you wet.

Sunghoon pulls back to look at you. His face is somewhat concerned but still, he’s smiling as he makes attempts to dodge your kisses.

“Hey, hey slow down–” He turns his face to whisper into your hair. “It’s weird with Jake here.”

You ignore his whispers and continue to kiss against him, moving your hand dangerously close to his upper thigh.

In a way, Sunghoon can’t believe that you’re really acting like this in front of Jake. Sure, the two of you have kissed in front of him, and Jake has walked in on some steamy makeout sessions, but it was never intended to be in front of him. Then again, Sunghoon knows how needy you can get and how selfish you can be when you’re wanting something specific from him.

“Okay, okay–” Sunghoon relents in another whisper, gently pulling himself from the couch and grabbing your hand.

“Hey, I think she’s getting tired.” Sunghoon laughs with the obvious lie to his brother. “Can we finish the movie another time?”

“Uh, sure.” Jake responds, knowing full fucking well that you’re turned on because of him and now you’re gonna go fuck his brother to take care of it.

This is so annoying.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Come Sunday morning, you were just as turned on as you were the night before. You can feel your body heating the moment you even think of Jake, but Sunghoon satiates you well enough. Even there against the bathroom wall as the two of you take a shower.

Sunghoon took note the night before that you enjoyed it when he humiliated you for doing those things in front of Jake. Asking you if you were really so desperate that you’d let just anyone see you acting the way you did. He plays off of that today too.

Waking up hard wasn’t anything weird for Sunghoon, and usually the morning showers end up as morning sex sessions anyway. You seemed more willing and awake this morning than any other time, and he’s thankful for it.

When he’s got you pressed against the wall as the warm water runs down your back, he doesn’t hesitate to plunge into you all the way with a comment of how much wetter you get when he degrades you. In a way, the punishment and degradation feels deserved, because you are embarrassed by how much you want to touch Jake.

“Getting off on the thought of other people seeing how wet you get for me?”

You nod against the cold bathroom tiles, feeling his cock pressing deeply inside of you and making your legs feel weak. You do love when other people can see, but what you mean by that is you love when his little brother can see.

Jake, from across the hall, once again hears it all because it wakes him up. Sunghoon hasn’t even attempted to keep his voice down while talking to you. Why? Because even he is far too turned on to pay attention to anything outside of this bathroom right now.

“Going so far as letting Jake see? How desperate were you?”

Jake’s ears perk up at the sound of his brother saying that, already stirring in his pants at the very idea of you getting off to that.

How desperate were you?

He wonders how you answer, or if you do. He wonders if you were desperate for him or if it was really for Sunghoon.

Without much more thought, Jake can’t go another day with you here right now. It’s becoming a bit too much, a bit too real, and honestly, he thinks he’s the desperate one right now. Wanting to barge into the bathroom, shove his brother away, and have his way with you. He could never. You’d never let him go that far surely.

And by the time it’s all said and done, you leave the bathroom lightheaded and Jake appears to have left the house to do something else.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The week passes normally up until Thursday night. You’re rummaging through your cabinets for something to make for dinner when your phone goes off. Assuming it’s Sunghoon again, complaining that Friday never comes fast enough, you’re shocked to see that it’s Jake sending you something through instagram.

And he’s drunk.

SimJake_ sent a photo:

SimJake_: guess who got drunk on a thursday night and is regretting the fact that i wanna talk to you?

Never did you want a paper trail or some type of proof that you and Jake are involved in this weird….thing together. His message isn’t even sexual, it's just a bit intimate that your boyfriend’s brother is sending you selfies while drunk even though you came onto him first.

He’s attractive, and entirely too cute right now trying to approach you via fucking Instagram because he won’t do it to your face. Then again, Sunghoon is always around, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t done anything about it.

You: let me guess, you’re the one drunk on a thursday night and will probably say some shit that will make you not be able to look me in the eye tomorrow?

SimJake_ : ding ding ding! what’re you doing?

You: texting you and trying to find food, im hungry. what about you?

SimJake_ : bout to make another drink and pretend i don’t have your panties under my pillow

SimJake_ : because i do

Wow, Jake is embarrassing and confident when he’s drunk. You find yourself smiling over it. You’d never guess or even assume he would try to make conversation with you about that of all things.

You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

SimJake_ : am i being too weird?

SimJake_: because you’re the one who started it

You: me? I started it? last time i checked, you’re the one who stole my panties?? you pervert????

SimJake_ : you’re the one who let me keep them

You: that’s……fair

SimJake_: so…

Shy boy is no more at this moment and you almost feel caught off guard. Reminding yourself that he’s drunk, you try to set a boundary in your head and change the subject.

You: what are you drinking?

SimJake_ : found some of my brother’s expensive whiskey, gonna tell him you drank it, he wont be mad then

You: you’re gonna tell him that I drank his whiskey, when he knows I don’t even like whiskey?

SimJake_ : yep

You laugh at the audacity, finally finding a snack for yourself and settling on the couch with your phone in hand.

You: and you’re drinking on a weeknight again, why?

SimJake_ : because i want you

Oh.

SimJake_ : and i know im not allowed to, but it’s really hard to like, not, i guess

SimJake_ : i know im being weird and im sorry, just really drunk rn and wanna talk to you thats all

SimJake_ : or we can pretend i never messaged you and you can delete the messages

You: no, i think you’re being cute. You can calm down, it’s okay

It’s definitely not okay, but you want it to be. You’re about to do some not okay things too, and cross those boundaries you literally just now set.

You: so, they’re still under your pillow?

SimJake_: yea

You: when was the last time you didn’t have them under there?

SimJake_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah?

SimJake_: yea i washed them when Sunghoon was at work…um

SimJake_: can you maybe wear them again

God, he really is that desperate.

SimJake_ : please? you can leave them in the laundry like last time and ill just grab them

You: i’ll think about it

SimJake_ : okay…so…

SimJake_: um….did you like the selfie

You: i like seeing you in person more, it’s fun when you’re all flustered and stuff, trying to pretend you don’t like it

Jake is giggling to himself like a schoolgirl, focusing on your messages and hoping to god he doesn’t forget the things you’re saying to him. He’s going to have to delete these messages as soon as it’s over though, for sure. At least he’s not drunk enough to forget the glaring issue at hand here.

SimJake_: i don’t like it because i always have a boner now lol i feel gross always having to go to my room and take care of it so things dont get weird

You: maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?

SimJake_ : wait what

You’re cheating. As if you haven’t been already. This is blatantly against your moral code and you literally do not care.

You: are you all flustered now?

SimJake_ : maybe,,,,

You: would you want me to? instead of you having to always run off to your room where I can’t see?

SimJake_ : you’re doing this on purpose, you wouldn’t actually wanna

SimJake_ : would you?

You: guess you’ll just have to find out eventually

You: flustered now?

SimJake_ : yea, wanna see?

SimJake_ sent a photo:

You: jesus christ, you’re…

You: big…. I mean, I knew from feeling it last weekend but like, that was my foot lol

SimJake_ : yeah what even was that about? i felt so stupid doing that

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

SimJake_ : am i really that big?

You: Jake,look at that thing. im shocked you don’t already have a girl to bury it into yet.

SimJake_: could have one ;)

You: ….yeah

SimJake_: yeah?

SimJake_ sent a photo:

Okay, it’s getting to be too much now. You can feel the warmth pooling into your panties already and you wonder if he would be just as eager to lick it up as he is to text you right now. You spread your legs wide, deciding on if you should do it. You’re already cheating, the guilt couldn’t get any worse anyway.

You sent a photo:

SimJake_ : oh fuck

SimJake_: you’re wet?

SimJake_: sorry i wasnt expecting that

SimJake_: can i save it

You: no

You sent a photo:

SimJake_: you should give me those panties instead

You: okay, ill put them in the basket tomorrow night

SimJake_: will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

SimJake_ : yeah :(

You: ill think about it

Jake is blushing, flushing, and shaking all at once, one hand on his cock and the other texting you. He’s saved the photos anyway, boring holes into them with the thought of what must be behind that thin layer of sticky and wet fabric. He wants to put his face there, he wants to smell you and swallow you up.

SimJake_ : can i call you?

A sharp feeling of fear but an even bigger feeling of arousal hits you.

You: okay…

You didn’t have to wait long, watching the bubble of him typing something to you disappear and instead getting a phone call. You knew Jake had your number and you had his, mostly for communication purposes for Sunghoon. Never was this supposed to happen.

When you answer the phone after taking a deep breath, your eyes are nearly popping out of your head.

Jake is shameless.

All those nights of hearing his mans muffled through the wall are now coming through crisp and clear on the speaker. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re in his room with him.

You don’t speak and instead, listen. You had expected him to answer the phone stuttering, trying to dirty talk but ultimately failing. It appears his drunken state offers him more than just liquid courage, but liquid lust as well.

For a moment you stop and contemplate hanging up. Jake is drunk and you can’t help but feel as though you’re taking advantage of him. Then again, previously sober he basically fucked himself against your foot at the dinner table.

“Feels good?” You ask with a chuckle.

You can hear the movement of his body through the speaker and you’re aware that through the lack of slapping sounds, your panties are probably silencing what his hand is doing.

Jake barely answers. A quick “mhm” rings through your ears alongside his deep breaths as a response instead. This isn’t typically how phone sex would go, considering dirty talking is what gets a person there. Perhaps Jake has never done this before, then again, maybe he gets off on just knowing you’re listening to him at all.

“Can you–talk?” Jake asks weakly, his hand stilling for a moment to focus solely on the image he has pulled up over your phone call. He can barely comprehend that you’re on the other line and he’s looking at your pussy pressing against slick panties.

“I like hearing you do this,” You say quickly, not very good at this type of thing yourself despite knowing how it should usually go. You slowly start to trace your fingers against your panties, wondering if Jake would be gentle like this too, nervous even.

“Yeah?” He asks with a small choked moan as he begins to move his hand again. “You’re not weirded out?”

“If I was weirded out I wouldn’t have sent you photos.” You snap, frustrated suddenly with the whole situation that this is your boyfriend’s brother. “Stop calling it weird–” You trail off, listening intently to the shifting sounds you hear through the speaker.

“Sunghoon isn’t home right now,” Jake suddenly admits, and you can feel the arousal disappear almost instantly as you hear his name. The reality hitting you, but still not caring enough to stop.

“Don’t talk about him right now, This isn’t right but–”

“But what?” Jake asks with a hopeful voice, this time pulling his hand away completely and feeling his heart double in speed.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” You let out, finally pressing your fingers beneath the lining of your panties. “I know it’s wrong.”

Like music to Jake’s ears, he feels the eagerness in his body swell to the point that it’s difficult to maintain. Sunghoon has everything that Jake wants. A good career, a nice house, needed life skills. All of those things could be obtained with hard work and effort for Jake, but you. You were the one thing he was never supposed to have. You were the one aspect of Sunghoon’s life that Jake wouldn’t have the ability to work his way towards, but he did.

He has you right now, in this moment, and he feels like nothing could break him. He knows it’s wrong just like you do, but Jake is selfish too.

He doesn’t think you meant to feel this way, because he always sees the good in people, and if you were doing this with any other man he would definitely snitch on you if he found out. But you’re doing it with him and he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt at this moment. So what if he he wants to fuck his big brother’s girlfriend? You reciprocate the fucking feeling.

A small part of Jake’s brain is still anxious though. That little still-sober sliver of his moral code trying to fight its way to the front. Does he go with his heart or with his brain? Should he stop? Will he be able to look you in the eye tomorrow? Will he be able to ever look his brother in the eye?

He isn’t sure. Both his heart and his brain tells him to go for you, the only thing telling him not to is the thought of his brother. The good news about that is, with you on the other end of this line, Sunghoon is pushed to the back of his mind.

“You can have me, you know.” He almost whispers, staring down at his heavy cock resting against his belly, panties left dangling off the tip. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Those are dangerous words. Words you know you shouldn’t accept or be turned on by.

“I bet you wouldn’t–” You cut yourself off in a deep breath, pressing against your clit and rubbing harshly. Jake isn’t even talking much, just offering himself on a fucking platter to you, and it’s driving your body to fucking yearn.

“Oh, shit, are you–” Jake swallows hard, the reality that you might actually be touching yourself on the other line sending waves of heat down his body. He thought it was just him and only had the hopes that you wouldn’t start making fun of him for it.

“Oh, fuck.” He says, quickly moving his hand to grip against his cock again and already feeling too sensitive from the short moments of neglect. “Where are your hands?”

“In my panties.”

Jake groans, dropping his phone by his ear on the pillow and using his other hand to grip something, anything as he opts to imagine your fingers sliding beneath the panties you’d shown him in the photo.

You can tell he’s holding his breath, focusing on feeling good in the way he releases short, quick groans every now and then. You keep yourself silent though, trying to hear him, trying to imagine what he’s doing while thinking of you.

The dripping mess between your legs is being spread by your fingers as you scissor your lips open easily, letting a small groan roll off your tongue for him to hear. Satisfied by his responsive deep breath and sigh, you finally plunge your fingers in.

“Can you hear it, Jake?” You ask in a breath, lowering the phone a bit so that he can hear your fingers slide in and out of you with a wet sound.

He chokes on his end at that, swiping the panties off of him to replace the feeling of fabric with the feeling of his closed fist. His precum smears beautifully, offering him the sensation that if he squeezes hard enough, he can imagine that he’s fucking into your warm and wet cunt. He can hear how wet you sound and it’s driving him up a fucking wall not being able to physically see you do it in front of him.

“This is all I'm going to think about tomorrow–” He groans out, tightening his fist even more and bucking his hips into it. “You sound so,”

“Wet for you?”

That’s all it takes before Jake is gasping out a string of curses, the orgasm both sending him into a sobering world of pleasure and an even drunker state of wanting you to himself. Strings of white spurting all along his belly and going as far as his chin, he throws his other hand up and bites hard against the skin on his knuckle as he works through it.

He doesn’t want to moan through this, he wants to hear just how fast your fingers are moving, how fast you’d want him to fuck you. He wants to think about how you must be imagining him right now, feeling good and breaking the rules for him.

Finally, after an embarrassingly long orgasm from Jake, his room goes silent and his ears tune in to the speaker on his phone. You’re cooing, letting out pretty little breaths between the smacking sounds of your palms coming into contact with your clit as you fuck yourself. He can’t believe you’re doing this with him, and even after his own orgasm he’s still incredibly aroused despite his cock softening.

“You still there?” You groan out. He can tell the phone is closer to what your hands are doing than it is to your face, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’m still here–” He swallows hard, catching his breath as he practically studies the audio you’re feeding to him.

“I bet that felt good,” You compliment his orgasm that was glaringly obvious on your end. You imagine he doesn’t even recognize that his hand was audible against his cock, and the sheer speed you heard of what he was doing made your clenching walls ache with everything you shouldn’t be wanting.”Wish I could see you right now–”

Jake did contemplate face timing you instead, but that was crossing more of a line in his head than just calling you. Plus, he would have probably hidden himself from view the entire time. It’s not like he expected to actually have you fucking yourself on the other end of the line, but here you are, and here he is, cum all over him.

He snaps a quick photo for you, and in your head you whimper a small “yes” at the sound of the shutter from his camera.

“Send it.” You demand softly, pulling your phone from your stomach and holding it in front of your face.

He does as you ask and feels embarrassed by the pools of cum all over his stomach. The photo consists mostly of his chest down. You can see his plush and bitten lips at the top of the photo though, and his quite big softening cock lying spent against his stomach, smearing some of the cum across his belly.

Jake listens to your reaction and hum of approval when you look at the photo, a small blush fanning his cheeks out of pure adoration for you rather than lust at this moment. He listens intently, unsure of if you’re going to work yourself to orgasm or hang up on him before he gets the chance to hear it.

The point is, Jake is getting a part of you that only Sunghoon should have, and he will be damned to pretend he doesn’t like it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with an immense amount of guilt in your head, you almost bail at going to Sunghoon’s house this weekend. You’ve already called out of work simply because you find yourself thinking of Jake more than you should, and the guilt only wavers from you feeling like a piece of shit, to almost being a thought that you can push aside.

Sunghoon would kill Jake if he found out, and you, what would he even do with you? Break up with you? Insult you?

Still, the thought of him finding out is the only reason you feel guilty. Because you still don’t regret showing Jake, letting him hear you, or hearing and seeing him. In fact, you don’t intend to stop either. You want him too much at this point, and he seems to be in the same place as you when it comes to this situation. Jake wouldn’t tell on you because then, he would be telling on himself.

After all, he only moved in with Sunghoon so he could taste freedom outside of his parent’s house. The strict curfews, the password protected websites despite him being a fucking adult, the supervision of his own money and belongings. Sunghoon knew the pain of living there, and that’s why he accepted Jake with open arms.

Sunghoon was a good brother and an even better boyfriend. You and Jake on the other hand? Jake’s an awful brother and you’re an even worse girlfriend. Sunghoon doesn’t deserve any of this, and he doesn’t deserve any of what’s to come either. You’re in too deep with Jake now though, and the glaring attraction is too strong to ignore.

Never in your life did you think you could find yourself being unfaithful, let alone with your own boyfriend’s sibling, yet here you are. Only guilty if you get caught.

Jake had texted you at least three thousand times with apologies throughout the night and morning. Admitting that his head hurt too much this morning to be realizing what the two of you did. He said he wouldn’t approach you when you come over, apologized again, and then promised to never tell Sunghoon and to never hold it against you if you think he’s weird for doing all of that to you.

Reading over his string of messages, you realize that Jake is blaming himself. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you and wanting you to feel secure and safe in something you did without a second thought.

On his end though, Jake is in his room staring at the two photos you sent to him the night before. Partially wondering if it was all just a dream at first, these pictures of you are the truth of how you feel towards him though. At least last night, that’s how it was. So, when you never text him back today? He doesn’t think too hard about why despite his heart feeling shattered by it.

When you still show up at that day, he doesn’t question that you’re not eye fucking him the second you walk in through the door either.

Jake was once again lounging on the couch when you walked in and Sunghoon was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t texted you either. Awkwardly, Jake speaks up before you can question it.

“He told me to let you know that he was gonna be late again. Said something about knowing you’d spam him with needy text messages while he’s in a last-minute work meeting.”

You look to the floor for a second, wondering if the real reason Sunghoon didn’t text you personally like he always did is because he found out somehow.

“Oh.” You sigh, slipping off your shoes and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you.

“He doesn’t know, don’t worry–” Jake assures you as he stands to his feet and heads towards his room. “Sorry about last night, I won't do that again.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve been slouched against Sunghoon’s couch for at least an hour by now and your mind is still doing a back and forth between taking advantage of this alone time with Jake, or worrying about how you shouldn’t be left alone with him at all.

The glaringly obvious issue in your head right now is the fact that you’re alone with Jake and you’re not upset about it. Jake assured you that Sunghoon didn’t find out, and the fact that Jake is the best source of finding out exactly what Sunghoon knows is more of a comfort than anything to you right now.

Thinking back to the night before, you remember releasing your orgasm on the phone and hearing him compliment you through it. You have the photo of him saved within your gallery, hidden from your too-trusting boyfriend’s eyes. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Jake’s lower half bare. He really is huge, and it’s a shame, really, that you want it so badly.

It’s not even shocking to you at this point that you can feel guilty and anxious one moment and immediately switch into some sex-starved beast at the very thought of Jake.

“maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?” The text message you sent to him spreads across your thoughts, knowing full well that you’re probably going to get intimate with Sunghoon later, the least you can do is let Jake have some first if he wants it, right?

You cautiously stand to your feet with a deep breath. The fact that you allow yourself to continuously dig the hole deeper for yourself? So deep that you’ll never be able to pull yourself from it? It’s laughable at how tiny of a worry that is in your mind when you know that Jake is seething in his bedroom right now.

Maybe it's just what Jake does to your thoughts? The images of him are too good to be able to ignore, the guilt not nearly enough to make you stop wanting him.

Sunghoon isn’t in your mind when you reach into your bag and grab the soiled panties you had soaked completely the night before, and Sunghoon barely exists at all in your thoughts when you make your way down the hall and lean against Jake’s closed door.

“I wouldn’t say no.” was what Jake had messaged you before, guess now is the time to find out.

Opening his door without so much as a knock, Jake doesn't appear to notice you at all as his back stays turned and he focuses on the screen in front of him. The large headset is sitting comfortably on his ears and you’re sure that the volume is up far too loud to be healthy. You can hear his friend’s yelling directions, where enemies are hiding and where they’re headed next.

You smirk for a moment, noting how much of a typical college boy Jake is. Messy room, messy hair, messy relationship with his brother’s girlfriend. You can imagine he feels pride in what he was able to do with you, and that’s not even an ego boost on your end.

You wonder if he’s told his friends anything at all. Not about who he likes or who he’s been getting intimate with even if not too-directly, but like, that he’s been getting fed sexual fantasies by someone in general. You wonder if he talks you up, then again, what if he hasn’t mentioned it at all?

Why does that thought upset you?

“Where were you last night anyway?” You hear over the too-loud headset as you come up behind Jake with the panties in your hand.

“Busy getting laid, unlike you losers.” Jake boasts, but you snicker at how he’s both lying and telling the truth.

“Bullshit–” You hear another insult coming through his headset before you finally are right behind him.

Part of you wants to prove him right so his friends think he’s cool or something, but then again, what if they recognize your voice? Surely these are his friends from back home, some two to three hours from this city. Surely they don’t know you, right?

“No, really.” You lean down against Jake’s headset and speak in a tone that isn’t too common for you and he freezes.

“Now, hold on–” A voice sounds through his headset and you can’t help but feel happy for him in the way they, for some reason, can’t believe Jake’s got some girl in this city interested in him.

When Jake tries to turn his body to look at you, you hold the chair in place. Knowing yourself how headsets work, you lift his mic until it clicks, hoping to god the mute function works like it’s supposed to and start talking.

“Don’t move, keep playing if you want.” You say, dangling the panties over his head and lowering them in front of his face.

More arousing than gross, you watch Jake’s face fall forward against them. Part of him can’t believe you’re really doing this right now despite leaving his messages on read. But you are, and these are the panties that he thought about all last night and most of today. He really meant it when he said that would be the only thing he would be thinking about, and here you are, keeping the promise of giving them to him.

Reaching up and clutching the panties, Jake tries to turn towards you again.

“Stay,” You say. “And hush.” You lower his mic back into place where he is no longer muted and listen as his friends go from talking shit to starting up another game.

From behind his chair, you’re a little shocked at how good he is at following what you say. He doesn’t move, but you can hear his breathing and the way he struggles to balance it in order to remain some-what normal sounding to his friends when they address him. His fingers are shaking against his keyboard as the game starts, and you think he’s probably thought about this happening to him hundreds of times before.

Maybe not with you, but still.

Gamer boys always want this kind of thing. Some girl prodding and tugging at them, sucking them off under the table as they boast to their friends how they can be getting head and still getting gold damage by the time the match is over.

All you can think about right now is being the person to fulfill the fantasies you assume he has. More turned on by the idea that Jake must want it so badly from you than admitting how badly you want it to be true.

When you reach around him, lying your hand against his lap, he’s already incredibly hard and stares down at it as the countdown screen on his game begins.

From out of sight, you don’t want Jake to see you. In fact, you want to see how badly he plates this game through this, because it’s not only cute but will actually be fucking hilarious. Especially because it’s the first time you’re moving on him rather than him grinding against whatever you have to offer.

Ignoring the call outs of enemies in game, both of you spiral into a world of your own again when you grab his length from over his sweatpants and just–you just hold him for a moment. The weight of it grows much heavier as he somehow manages to get more hard at the fact that you’re in the room with him. Plus, for Jake at least, your used panties sitting right there only drives his cock further to pulse and beg for your hand.

“Jesus–” Jake groans when you grab him.

“Jesus is right, you haven’t moved from that fucking building you cuck-” Some guy shouts from his head set.

“Shut the fuck up Heeseung, you’re literally in bronze.” Another man shouts.

Jake is silent save for a sharp inhale when you squeeze your palm around him. He knows if he even tries to talk shit right now all of his friends would just fucking know how desperate and embarrassing he is around you. That’s the last thing he needs.

Finally, after a few moments of palming him through his pants, you dip right in. He doesn’t shy away from it either, spreading his legs from under his desk and lifting his ass up slightly so you can pull the pants down to let his cock spring free.

You silently gasp noting how Jake is even bigger than the photos gave him credit for, thicker than you genuinely imagined now that you see it from over his shoulder. Jake tries to turn his head this time to look at you, but you’re quick to catch his cheek and turn it back to the screen with a chuckle.

Gripping him again, Jake sighs into his mic and his friend’s screaming goes silent. You’re quick to lift his mic into the muted position just to offer some sort of escape from embarrassment now seeing that he’s incredibly willing to let you do this while his ego is on the line.

“You want them to hear?” You ask, feeling his hips slightly buck into your grip. That sends shivers down your spine, finally feeling it for the first time.

“I don’t care–” He sighs desperately, thrusting his hips up harder. “Please, just don’t stop.”

The way he says it, for some reason, sounds so fucking broken that you could honestly swirl this chair around and impale yourself on him without so much as a second thought. But you contain yourself, now moving your grip up his length and thumbing over the head to feel the sheer amount of pre-cum spilling out of him

“Alright, Jakey.” You soothe, lowering his mic for the last time and wondering just how much he’s going to let his shithead friends hear.

For a few moments, you gently jerk him off just to see his hips chase your fist. He’s needy in the way he moves his body but very fucking good at acting as you start to count each kill he manages to get through this.

By the time you hear his friends praise him, you feel a little competitive yourself. Shy, needy, desperate little Jake thinks he can get through a game the very first time you actually touch him? Perhaps he thinks he is giving you what you want, but what you want is to see him fall apart.

You move your hand faster, watching him from behind as he chokes up and slams his head against the headrest of his chair, nearly knocking the headphones off of him.

“God,” Jake moans, knowing full well that his friends wouldn’t suspect anything if he says such a thing.

You know that was for you though, so you continue. The rhythm of your hand moving from a slow drag to something painfully fast and unfathomably good. Jake’s head is spinning, thrusting his hips up and gripping his computer mouse so tightly that he thinks he could crush it in his grip.

When his pre-cum is essentially drenching your palm, the slide of your hand keeps a fast pace, pulling groans out of him every few seconds.

Jake can’t hold himself back anymore, slamming his head against the headrest of his seat yet again, this time his headset sliding off of his head and falls into the floor. He lols his head from side to side as he finally lets out a full-throated moan, shooting a hand to your wrist and holding it in place so that he can fuck up into it.

You gasp at that, his grip harsh and far less gentle than you’d expect. The muffled screams of his friends are blatantly obvious and you can’t bring yourself to care if the mic muted itself during its descent to the floor or not.

He’s choking each moan that threatens to be too loud, and honestly, you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He goes from releasing your hand just to stare down at the way you grip him, to grabbing it again and fucking into it harder.

It’s way too endearing seeing him like this.

He tries to turn to see you again shortly after, so desperate to kiss you, so desperate just to fucking see what you like like when you’re doing this to him, but you do your best to remain behind him as you grab the base of his cock and cause him to groan in pain.

“Let me see you–” He nearly sobs in a frustrated way, and for a moment you contemplate letting him.

“Let me hear you.” You respond, keeping that same, painfully tight, grip against him and dragging it up to his head, enveloping it and sending sensitive shocks throughout his body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jake writhes under the painful grasp, but his hips still chase when you drag your hand back down.

He’s no longer being quiet, no longer pretending to care about his dead character on the screen, re-spawning and dying every few seconds. He’s a free kill for any enemy player right now and you can tell his friend’s are pissed in the way the screaming from the headset gets louder despite the distance.

The chat box on screen is being spammed just as aggressively, and Jake can barely even open his eyes to process it.

“You were playing so well,” You coo out, shifting forward a bit and placing your chin on his shoulder. “What happened, Jakey?”

He softly moans at the nickname you’ve now used more than once, eyes half open as he glances down at how fast your hand is moving compared to your soft, balanced voice against his ear. He turns his head quickly, trying to catch you off guard, but you pull away.

“Wanna see me so bad, huh?” You chuckle, working him up and knowing that he’s got to be close with the way he shamelessly moans in the most annoyed, frustrated way.

“Let me kiss you.” He grunts, bucking his hips aggressively, now chasing in full that painful grip you’re keeping against him so well. “I’ll keep my eyes closed, please.”

You contemplate again giving him what he wants, but you figure he’s already getting more than enough.

“Oh? You’ll keep your eyes closed? Don’t you want to look at me?”

Jake is desperate now, hands moving to the armrests of his chair as he grips them hard, hips wildly stuttering in your grasp.

“Fuck, yes.” He lets out, dropping his head with a deep breath and then throwing his head back with an even longer moan.

You can’t tell if that was him answering you, or simply reacting to what his body is feeling, and you don’t really care. He’s already there, walking on the thin line of orgasm and willing to take whatever it is you give him. He no longer wants anything, he’s just experiencing.

You watch him from behind very closely, the shiver running from his toes straight to his ears was obvious enough.

“That’s it,” You whisper from behind. “Give it to me.”

Jake’s entire body tenses against the chair, you can feel it stress from the way his legs spread wider and his hips go from quick thrusts to short, drawn-out drags against your palm. The image of him doing that between your legs washes over every single one of your thoughts. He would do that. Burying himself so deeply as he spills out inside of you, thrusting in and slowly dragging his hips out, just to thrust in again to push his seed impossibly deeper.

“That’s so hot,” Jake comments with a deep breath, and only then do you realize the small moan you’d let out during that intense thought of him. Especially as you watch his cum is spill out in loads, leaving a mess all over himself and your hands.

Finally, after making a mess of him, you smile to yourself and do your best to appear not as flustered as you actually are.

Either way, a job well done.

You opt to make a grand exit, saying nothing after releasing his cock and sauntering out of the room in silence to leave him to his thoughts. You could still hear his friends screaming through the microphone, and he doesn’t even call out after you. Jake must feel on top of the world right now, because you know that you do.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon comes home later than he did last time, tired and droopy. He finds himself drawn to you more than usual, noting that your eyes are sparkling a little brighter upon walking through his door.

You put Jake in the back of your head much like you always tried to do when Sunghoon is around you these days. Your love for your boyfriend is still blatant and honest when you’re next to him, not at all feeling pity for Jake having to see it. Jake should know who it is you love, despite the fact that you jerked him off mere hours ago.

When Sunghoon is next to you, when his arm is around you and his eyes are on you, you don’t question for a second that everything you’ve been doing behind his back will come back on you, and it’ll be well-deserved pain. But there’s still a part of you that hopes you can keep Sunghoon forever and always be happy beside him. You’re actively betraying him, his own flesh and blood is helping you dig this hole deeper and deeper. So deep that Sunghoon can’t even see the bottom where Jake’s got his hands on you.

Fully intending to keep them both, you find yourself feeling more fulfilled despite the awful moral. Sunghoon isn’t willing to share, but Jake is.

And you, you don’t have to share.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Saturday was as normal as always. Jake pops in and out of his room, not even once acting as if something suspicious is going on. If anything, Sunghoon is a little more happy to see you spend time with Jake when he’s not in his room.

It was awkward at first. Jake’s always been shy but it seems like he’s loosened up after realizing you’re a permanent part of the picture for as long as you’re with Sunghoon. He’s endeared by the way you bully his brother the same way he does.

Even that little crush Jake had on you when he first met you appears to have fallen into more of a sibling-like relationship to Sunghoon. He thought it was cute that Jake had a crush, after all, it’s you. Sunghoon fucking fell head over heels when you gave him attention and wouldn’t be caught dead releasing his grip on you once he asked you to be his girlfriend. The point is, Sunghoon knew Jake had a small crush but was pleased to see it turn into something more casual and comfortable.

He likes his life, loves his girlfriend, and loves his brother. Nothing could get better than spending time with the two of you, even if Jake jumps up to go be a recluse in his room from time to time.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jake,” Heeseung grits through the mic.

“What?” Jake sighs nonchalantly, throwing his arms behind his head as he smiles to himself through the webcam.

“You should be embarrassed.” Heeseung argues. “We didn’t wanna hear that shit.”

“I muted him.” Jay says with a shrug through his own camera..

“Yeah, me too.” Jungwon follows up, all eyes now falling to Heeseung, who is avoiding the camera and scratching the back of his neck with a shrug.

“I was in a tight situation! I couldn’t tab out.” Heeseung defends himself easily, still a darker shade than usual.

“I think she wanted you guys to hear.” Jake laughs quietly, whispering.

“Why are you whispering?” Jay asks, leaning forward towards his camera as if Jake was about to whisper out again, this time with a deeper secret.

Instead, Jake shifts his eyes and changes the subject. As much as he would love to tell his friends that he’s managed to get a handjob (not the foot thing) from his brother’s girlfriend, he’s sure they’d have a little more respect for him. But it feels like a betrayal to say it out loud, regardless of how hot the idea is in his head.

“Because my brother is with his girlfriend and it’s weird if they know what happens when they’re not here.” Jake explains, receiving a nod from everyone.

“She left her panties,” Jake now adds in a cheeky voice, removing his hands from behind his head and sitting up from his relaxed position. “Wanna see?”

Heeseung was, obviously, the first to nod his head and Jake didn’t really need the others to agree anyway, because they’re a group of college guys who are always either talking about getting laid or how to raise their rank when playing competitive games.

“Damn,” Jay laughs as he sees the thin fabric come into view. “Are they dirty?”

“Oh yeah,” Jake boasts, spreading out the fabric and bringing them close to the camera.

“That’s so gross.” Heeseung waves them off, averting his eyes and trying to pretend he’s not interested.

“Jake’s full of shit.” Jungwon chimes in quickly, only to be shut down by Heeseung’s weird need to defend.

“You heard her talk to him through the mic, there’s no way he’s lying.”

“Uh, no I didn’t. I had him muted the second I saw his hero standing in the middle of the map without moving.” Jay argues back.

“Well, I lied, I didn’t mute him.” Jungwon finally admits. “Still, though. There’s no way she gave you those.”

Jake can’t stop smiling. The fact that he can barely believe what happened himself is enough not to argue. They’re your panties, that’s your scent in them, and that was your hand wrapped around him yesterday.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up on Sunday felt, again, normal. You hadn’t heard Jake through the walls the night before but Sunghoon sure did. He mostly drowned out the sounds by putting in his headphones though, unlike what you would have done. Sunghoon did, however, wake up hard considering the two of you passed out the night before without so much as a lingering hand.

To his dismay, you groan at his roaming hands as he wakes you up. Sunghoon knows you love being woken up this way, but he also knows to stop if you’re making a sound like this over it.

“What’s wrong?” He says, pulling his hand back and instead, placing it on your waist so that he can pull you closer and into a cuddle.

You don’t respond, cracking an eye open and immediately feeling your head pound at the sunlight shining through the windows. You feel bad that since thursday, the only intimacy you’ve had has been with Jake despite being in love with the man against you. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you immediately, physically, feel like shit this morning, you’d be jumping Sunghoon’s bones.

“Head is pounding.”

“Ah,” Sunghoon smiles, hugging you against him and rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. “It’s okay, you can sleep in. I’m gonna go make some breakfast.”

Your boyfriend’s good mood doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does your headache. You take him up on that offer and immediately fall back to sleep.

Later, you wake to Sunghoon gently patting your cheek.

“You want some food? Might help?”

You nod, squinting your eyes and sitting up a little too quickly. You glance around as he turns away and heads back towards the kitchen, and then you stretch your arms out. Things feel too fucking normal for you to be doing what you’ve been doing. This headache is well fucking deserved, surely.

Making your way into the kitchen, you note that Jake’s bedroom door is open but he isn’t anywhere to be found.

“Where’s Jake?” You ask casually, sitting down at the table and rubbing your temples.

“Said something about one of his friends coming to a city nearby and wanting to go hang out with him. Probably Heeseung.”

Your heart starts beating in your ears at the thought that you really thought Sunghoon wouldn’t know any of Jake’s friends. Sure, you thought that maybe they were just online friends, or maybe people Jake met after Sunghoon moved out of his parent’s house, but you recognize that fucking name.

Thankfully, you had changed your voice just slightly as you spoke to Jake the other day. Surely this isn’t what would ruin the entire arrangement.

“Ah,” You groan. “Finally we have the house to ourselves and I have to wake up with a migraine? What lousy luck.”

“It’s okay, really.” Sunghoon smiles, sitting a plate of food down in front of you. “Besides, we both know you like the thrill of needing to be quiet.”

He’s joking, you know he is, but it was the truth before this whole thing with Jake started.

“If we really wanted to be alone, I'd be at your apartment every weekend.”Your boyfriend adds, planting a kiss to the top of your head and heading towards the medicine cabinet. “Little weird that it has to be my brother that we are keeping quiet from, but whatever.”

“Didn’t know i’d be this into it, honestly.” You admit, feeling open enough to at least tell him that you’re very into the idea of someone hearing you. You just won't admit that you want it to be Jake.

“I mean, I personally am not into this type of thing. It’s a little uncomfortable for me.” Sunghoon sits down and hands you two painkillers. “But I doubt he’s actually listening. I apologized after the first time and he said he usually just puts in headphones and goes to sleep.”

You hold back the smile of Jake’s blatant lies towards Sunghoon.

“So, I guess I don’t entirely mind feeding into your little fantasies of being heard, or caught, or whatever.”

Your boyfriend waves off the conversation with a smile, ultimately willing the fact that it is weird to him out of his head. If that was a new thing you realized you liked, the only way you would have found out is by having someone else in the house when the two of you do those things. Unfortunately, Jake’s the reason.

In Sunghoon’s head, he’s mature enough to discuss it like an adult with his brother. Guidelines and rules, moving Jake in wasn’t going to change his sex life with you, if anything, he had already told Jake to invest in some decent headphones or earplugs because he’s gonna hear some shit otherwise.

You allow the conversation to die as you work up an appetite. Thankfully Sunghoon is an amazing cook, though he only did it one or two nights a week considering how spent his job makes him feel. You’re thankful he cooked this morning, and even more thankful for these two little pills that will hopefully knock your headache out within the hour.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Come Monday, you’re thankful you get to work from home. You sleep in and try your best not to think about the fact that Sunghoon knows the friends that heard you be intimate with Jake. You’re even more thankful for this week away from your boyfriend’s house because, even though you’ve processed everything, you feel like you should probably be alone for a while and really think about what you’re doing.

When Jake is around or texting you, it’s hard to think straight because you genuinely want him so fucking bad. And when Sunghoon is beside you, or texting you, all you can do is imagine a future with him.

The once bright, clear future of Sunghoon in a tuxedo standing in front of you at some extravagant altar becomes a little more foggy at the thought of where Jake would fit into it. Would he be behind Sunghoon, watching him marry you to start a real life together? Would he be somewhere in the crowd, waiting to object and expose you for the awful girlfriend you are? Or even worse, would he not be there at all? Running away and disappearing never to insert himself into your life or his brother’s life ever again?

You don’t want to think about the future right now. Everything you’ve been doing has been so selfish and so fucking fulfilling that you can’t bring yourself to feel any amount of pity for Sunghoon and the way he trusts you fully. You never once gave him a reason to not trust you, and you think maybe Jake hasn’t given him a reason either.

But god, he shouldn’t trust either of you at all. He’s at work, making money, living his life with a supposed loving girlfriend all while offering his little brother an ounce of freedom. What does he get in response to his hard work and kindness? His brother wanting to tongue fuck his girlfriend? And worse yet, his girlfriend wants it even more than his brother does?

Your mind is burning through scenarios all day if you have it in you to feel bad. Another scenario involves you, married to Sunghoon and sneaking Jake out of your bed when Sunghoon returns from work. Even more scenarios of Sunghoon finding out and hating you forever, leaving you and meeting someone better. How could you have them both and keep it going? Is something like that even possible?

Then you get a text.The glaring reality blows right past your head when you’re expecting it to be Jake but you see Sunghoon’s name on the screen. You still feel just as excited though.

Sunghoon: good news and great news

You: oh?

Sunghoon: Good news: a co-worker has family issues and had to drop out of the business trip coming up.

You were about to question why that’s good news, but then Sunghoon quickly texts again.

Sunghoon: great news: i am now being asked to attend the event and it could get me a pretty big promotion.

You: You’re gonna go right?? When is it?

Honestly, the way your heart swells at your boyfriend moving up in the world could knock anyone on their feet. No one would ever guess what you do behind his back, because again, you haven’t lost an ounce of love for this man and you probably never will.

Sunghoon: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

You: how long is it? do you need help packing since it’s such short notice?

Sunghoon: only three days, so i’d be back on friday and still get to see you this weekend

You: it’s a win/win! i can come over tonight since i’m working from home today.

Sunghoon: you good to sleep over and drop me off in the morning at the airport? i can give them an answer now so they can work out the transport and get the tickets transferred to me.

You: you didn’t need to even ask!! you should have immediately said yes! I’ll be over tonight, i’m proud of you babe!

Sunghoon: love you :)

And so there it is. The glaring issue about to become a blatant, full blown affair. And like, you don’t want to get it twisted. You are so fucking proud of Sunghoon and so fucking glad that everything in his life appears to be rushing him straight to major success, but also, he’s going to be gone for three days and that’s three days to try and get over this whole Jake phase. By using Jake. By fucking him, specifically.

It doesn’t help that just a few moments later, presumably after Sunghoon lets Jake know the plan, Jake is texting you.

Jake: Sunghoon’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep

Jake: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Jake: gonna clean my room

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Dropping Sunghoon off is weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence is clearly through the roof as he kisses you goodbye. Even after he walks away, he quickly rushes back to you and asks for a second kiss, citing it’s for good luck. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Sunghoon did was with effort and thought put into it. You’re not the only person who sees it either.

That was the sweet part anyway. The bitter part is the guilt finally coming to you like it should have weeks ago. The fact that Sunghoon is walking off to get on an airplane and Jake is at home cleaning his room to fuck you in it? It’s obvious that you don’t deserve either of them.

Still, the guilt hitting you now is unnerving. It took so long to come, and only consumes you when Sunghoon isn’t around to nearly witness the infidelity? Shaking yourself of disgust, you head out of the airport and still find yourself pulling into Sunghoon’s driveway against your better judgement.

You sit in your car for a moment, thinking back on all of those small moments with Jake, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of what could be.

As expected, with a huff, you accept the fact that even through the guilt, you still want him.

Stepping out of your car and walking up to the door felt too unfamiliar and nerve wracking, especially with the fact that you can hear your heart skip beats and your body melt away into the hole you fucking dug for yourself. However, the moment Jake opens the door and looks at you, before you can even unlock it yourself, every single guilt ridden thought disappears.

You don’t know what it is about him, and surely you’ve never felt this way before, because goddamn is it a blinding kind of feeling. Thinking back as you look at him, he seems different now despite having the same face and body language.

Before, Jake was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Jake, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Sunghoon is drowned out in the back of your mind, as usual when you find yourself alone with Jake.

Jake is still shy and timid in the way he moves but he knows just as well as you do what’s about to happen and isn’t at all shying away from the fact that he’s about to fulfill every dirty little thought he’s had about you since he met you. Hell, since he saw photos of you that Sunghoon sent before he ever met you.

On cloud nine, Jake is timid when he, for the first time, makes a move on you himself. It’s shocking that he does it at all if you’re being honest, but you lean into him on instinct. All he does is grab your hand, a touch that wouldn’t raise suspicions at all in Sunghoon if he were to see it, but to you it’s the most intimate thing he could do at this moment. Because he’s leading you, and his eyes are hungry and unable to pull from you.

Not a single word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Jake leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying that it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless.

You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Jake realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Sunghoon, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it.

Jake is even more gentle when he lets your hand go and turns towards you with a deep sigh, as if he’s preparing his entire being for what’s coming. Both of you like a deer in headlights, as if this wasn’t intentional or planned, you smile at him.

Jake lets out a nervous laugh at your smile, shaking his head and looking down. He’s already stiff beneath his pants, which are conveniently unbuttoned and unzipped already. Even you, shamelessly wearing a dress with no panties. Sunghoon thought it was for him, and he damn well did fuck you this morning while on a confident-high before you took him to the airport.

You knew Jake could hear it, and he didn’t appear to care because in all fairness, Jake did not give a damn. He knew you weren’t his at that moment, but you fucking would be before the night is up. The next three days, you’re his. Even if he never has you again.

That deer-in-the-headlights look from Jake fades as his eyes take you in without hiding it for the first time. You imagine he will fall apart if he were to trace his hands under your dress and find that you are completely bare, you imagine you would fall apart much faster if he touched you at all.

It happens so fast. Too fast, almost, with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. Well, you knew he was taller than you, but at this moment he seems so much bigger than usual.

His breathing is uneven as he stares at your lips and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would.

Looking up at him, you want to reach up and grip his hair. His lips are so plush, clearly freshly coated with chapstick. His skin is practically glowing save for the few blemishes that the fringe on his forehead covers, you find yourself wondering if he’s taking this moment to study you too.

“I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Jake whispers out, inches from your face. “This is going to be embarrassing for me.”

“Don’t hold back.” You encourage him without doubt, hoping that he can break past that last little boundary the two of you haven’t crossed yet. The one where he can kiss you, touch you, have you. Only because you can’t bring yourself to do it at this moment, for some reason.

The feeling of his lips touching yours is more bruising than you think he intended them to be, but the desperate feeling was all the same as your own, you think. Never have you actually stopped to think of kissing him or how he would go about it. Like running in blind, you’re learning that Jake knows what to do with his tongue, how to pace himself despite not wanting to, and how to reach up and hold your face in such a way that you feel like this could very well be a dream.

A perfect dream.

His hands are cupping your face though, you can feel the way his fingertips press into your cheeks as he makes his attempts to deepen the kiss. And fuck, he’s kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone.

When his hands drop from your face and fall to your waist, every new place he touches feels like it’s set ablaze. You press forward against his chest, walking him back as you lick into to kiss, all the way until he falls back on his bed with a happy and dazed ‘oof’ sound.

Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt. So badly do you want to see him shirtless again, and he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again.

Now that the initial intimacy has been established, you finally come back to yourself, thinking more clearly and finding a small list in your head of things you want and need to do for him. Starting with letting him really look at you.

“I know how much you like my panties–” You smile, standing in front of him and trying to keep your eyes averted from his length threatening to break through his pants.

“Yes, god, let me see it.” Jake urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs.

He thinks you must be wearing the prettiest pair today, for him, not for his brother. But when you lift your leg and straddle him, his face contorts to confusion and then to pleasure when you sit against his cock. Of course, with the fabric covering his length, he still can’t tell that you’re not actually wearing any panties at all.

“You wanna see?” You ask for his clarification, bunching your dress up in your hands and preparing to lift it so he can see your bare folds sitting against him.

Jake blinks at you, nodding his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach up and grab your waist just to guide you on him. He’s afraid to move too fast, he’s afraid to embarrass himself with how fucking desperate he is for you right now.

“Look.” You say, nodding between your legs and lifting your dress.

“Oh god,” Jake gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants.

That’s your pussy on him.

Without a second thought his hands are on your waist, pushing and pulling you forward and backwards on his lap. You blink hard at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against your lips harshly, and then open your eyes to look at him again.

He is still staring between your legs, almost losing himself to this alone. Then again, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you bare and he cannot get past the fact that Sunghoon gets to see it whenever he fucking wants to.

“I can feel it–” Jake chokes back in a happy groan, referring to your slick seeping through his pants and onto him.

You smile at him, now moving your hips on your own as you pull his hands away and push them to lay above his head. If he thinks this is good, you want to see how fast he reaches for you again.

It’s so easy when you lift yourself up, and incredibly cute in the way his eyes follow your pussy when you lift. He doesn’t even realize that you shove his sweats down and sit right back down, this time coating him in full with your slippery folds.

“God, fuck,” He moans in disbelief, and just as expected his hands shoot to your waist and hold you down against him. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or not, but he’s incredibly sexy in the way he moves without thinking.

“Fuck?” You question cutely, forcing your hips to slide up his length despite him trying to hold you there.

“How are you already so wet?” He questions in a groan, still trying to process the fact that this is actually happening. His grip on you loosens, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him better.

“How are you so big?” You try to compliment back, feeling him between your folds and wondering just how deep he could fuck you if he so wanted to. “So, so big.” You groan out this time, feeling the head of his cock bumping against your clit every few seconds.

Jake obviously doesn’t answer, his fingers are gripping your dress so tightly and his eyes are burning the image of you doing this into his head. He never wants to forget this moment of feeling you against him for probably the first and last time, because in all realness, this can’t happen again if he thinks too hard about it.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” He admits suddenly, out of breath. “Just this once, please.”

You nod cutely, swiping his hands away from your dress and lifting it off of you in full. His eyes are now glued to your tits and whatever it was he was saying is long forgotten as he watches them jiggle when you slide up against him again.

The way he shuts up is entirely too arousing. You can see him thinking about you, practically able to see him process every part of your body on top of him.

“Take your pants off, Jakey.” You finally say, frustrated that clothing always gets in the way of things.

He does as he’s told when you stand to your feet in wait, and instantly he’s lifting himself and grabbing you, pulling you right back on him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright so that your tits are pressed right up against his own, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

You feel a bite and pull back from him, hips stilling in short panic.

“Don’t–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder, because if that’s the only thing he can’t do in this situation, he’d be a damn idiot to argue with you about it.

“Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I got you this wet, right?” Jake mocks the situation as a whole as his confidence blooms, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it. “He’d know I do it better.”

It makes you a little angry, but you get it. Jake’s confidence must be through the roof because never would you have imagined him speaking to you like this, or mentioning his brother at all at a time like this.

“Prove it and maybe I’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right.

His size rivals his brother’s, but can he work it the same way? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

Jake pulls back from kissing your neck only for a moment, moving to your lips and wincing at the feeling of your folds sliding against him still, maybe he did get a little too cocky there.

“Prove it?” He breathes against your lips, gripping your waist tighter and guiding you up.

You already know what he’s doing and don’t shy away from it. Usually there’s foreplay, and you’re sure he wanted to do more than just fuck you, but too little too late. You’re hungry for it and so is he, if the sounds between you are enough to go by.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift yourself and allow his hand to disappear between the two of you. You can feel him position himself right at your entrance and all you need to do is sink down.

You lend a pause, staring at him for a moment. Looking straight into his eyes and recognizing that for the first time in over two years now, you’re about to fuck someone that isn’t Sunghoon.

He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again so desperately that any doubt in your mind withers away with all that guilt you know you shouldn’t be ignoring.

Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Jake just groans into your mouth with wet kisses. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace without giving you any time to adjust. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

He’s deeper inside of you than any man has ever been able to reach without the aid of a toy, and the head and thickness of it is far better than any plastic could ever be. You imagine you sound just as desperate as he does right now. Unable to wiggle in his grasp, you just take it. You were well versed in that, at least.

Jake holds you there for at least a full minute, feeling you clenching and drenching his cock in a way that makes the slide easy and pleasurable for him. His hips can move much faster this way, but the fear of cumming too quickly forces him to slow his movements and open his eyes in a breathy moan.

Your legs are spread out over his own, his cock is buried into you completely, and you fucking just take it? God, No wonder Sunghoon is in love with you.

Jake looks at you lovingly, wishing so badly that his brother wasn’t in the way of having this all the time. And then? his arms release you and he’s lifting your face with one of his hands, thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin.

Jake’s arms release you from the hug and he uses one hand to lift your face.

“Sorry, I just–” He says before getting a look at your face. Glancing between both of your empty eyes, he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you start to grind yourself against him. Chasing the pressure he was just slamming into you.

What he was gonna say was that he was sorry he lost control for a second, but what he ends up saying now is “Fuck, I want this so bad.”

Despite that Jake is getting everything he wants at this moment, all he can do is look at you and watch you grind your clit against his pelvic bone, chasing a pleasure that he knows you’re feeling intensely right now. He thinks of himself in pity, all those nights of wanting exactly this and never knowing that he actually fucking gets to do it.

Without thinking, Jake doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you into the big spoon position and pulling your leg up to drape over his hip.

There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. So fucking in love.

He makes quick work to stuff you again and smiles at the way you throw your head back, opening your pretty and glistening eyes just for a split second to look at him.

One hand now reaches around you and cradles one of your tits, the other snaking between your legs and experimentally tapping against your clit.

“That’s right,” He boasts, trying his best not to drool as your droopy eyes struggle to stay on him for too long. “Look at me.”

“Damn, Jake,” You manage to say in an aroused laugh, realizing that he’s really fucking you in the spooning position now? Of course he fucking would. It’s such an intimate position, and the angle, you could argue, is one of the best you think you’ve ever felt.

Paired with his words? Goddamn.

“Hm?” He hums against your shoulder once he lays his head there, feeling your body jerk as he fucks his length into you repeatedly. “Feels good?” He asks, moaning himself this time at the way you close your legs around his hand and grind back against him.

He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own hip. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and if your sounds are anything to go by? He can say that it’s absolutely fucking true.

This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you have before, he loses composure again. Any chance of his focus being on you and you alone is now long fucking gone, baby.

Even as he tries to put his fingers against your clit again, the movements are messy, messy, messy. Thankfully, his hips are fucking you with full intent now. He’s trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can at least try to focus on your pleasure more, but god, fuck.

After one particularly deep thrust, you shiver and he fucking loses it.

“Oh my god, I found it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way. “Right here? Baby, yeah?” He continues, repeatedly slamming you with the head of his cock bumping just where you need it.

“Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Ahh- Jake, don’t stop!” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips now, giving in to the pleasure and now losing all ability to speak at all.

He does, pressing his hips harder this time, a grunt spilling from his bitten lips with every forceful thrust. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you, over and over again, ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex.

Jake watches you roll your head back, moaning out with a slack and somewhat pained face as he does it. He cannot fucking believe he found your g-spot on the first try and he will be damned to stop now.

He focuses now, grunting at the way your walls clench him so tightly each time he hits your spot. He’s determined to make you cum, make you babble out strings of his name and how good he feels. He needs you to feel so good that you’ll never think twice about letting him do this again, and again, and again, no matter how close you could be to getting caught.

His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers messily working your clit, paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory.

It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for event the smallest moment of collecting yourself.

“Ah, you’re squeezing me–” He breathes out, words broken with his own moans as he does his best to keep pace to work you through it. “So tight–” He manages to breathe out again, not yet realizing that you’re quite literally about to cum all over him.

And you want to. So you fucking do. You cum hard around him, clenching him so tightly that Jake stills his hips in disbelief at the way your body moves when you release. He can barely get the words out when he speaks, feeling you drench him with liquid fire. “Are you–?” He chokes out, jerking his hips back and trying to pull out of you for his own release.

“Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Feels so good, just–” You cry out, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you. “I wanna feel it.”

“Fuck. fuck.” He moans out louder this time, hands gripping your waist and holding you against him as he shakes behind you. You can feel him twitch inside of you as he shoots those thick, white ropes of cum into you.

For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first.

You were right.

Jake buries himself as deep as he can go, only grinding back a few centimeters before pressing himself flush against you as another spurt paints the flesh inside of you. You feel so full, and he’s packed so tightly in you that you genuinely think this is the first time you’ve ever actually felt a man cum inside of you. Like really feel it. Every fucking pulse of it.

Unfortunately, just like that, you feel empty with how fast he pulls out of you. You’re in shock, actually.

“Where are you going?” You ask in a cracked and panicked voice, looking behind you as he backs away from you momentarily.

“I–” He pauses, looking at you and the way your eyes look back at him in a different type of panic. “Don’t know.” He says, getting back onto the bed and reluctantly putting his arms around you in a hug.

“I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still trying to steady his breath from the orgasm he had ten seconds ago.

Instantly, Jake found himself in a post-nut state of guilt and kind of scared of how much he adored fucking you.

“End it?” You ask, pulling away from him. “You want to stop?”

“You don’t?” He asks, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

“I mean, we both know what we are doing…” You trail off, sitting yourself up and fully aware that the guilt will always hit you at random times, but still, you want Jake. “And we still kept doing it.”

“Yeah, but–”

“But?” You ask, turning your body to face him as he sits himself up now. The nakedness of your bodies is not at all embarrassing at this moment.

“Jake, I don’t think I can like, not want you if you still want me.”

He nods his head reluctantly, wondering if this is you offering the fact that you’re willing to straight up, blatantly, and shamelessly cheat on Sunghoon with him.

“Ugh,” Jake puts his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If we never talk about it…,”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” Jake throws his hands up defensively. “I only feel bad when you’re not here.” He says, now questioning himself. “I don’t think I’d be able to like, not ever do this again.”

“So we are both in this same little fucked up boat?” You ask.

“I guess so.” He laughs at himself, and then at you. “If he ever finds out, you know i’ll be found in a ditch somewhere, right?”

You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Jake into a fire that you both fucking searched for is kind of…scary? But also elating?

“Well, I’m not gonna fucking tell him.” You say, pressing the important matter at hand. “The point is, Jake, I need you to understand that I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

Somehow, he lightens the mood.

“Damn, I must be special.”

You guess he is.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #park sunghoon smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #jake sim smut #enha smut

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel killer x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader

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indecisivemuch · 3 months

Text

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn.

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading:

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer.

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you.

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it.

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips.

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids.

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

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ohbother2 · 3 months

Note

I read your Lucifer headcanons and OH BOY I'M IN LOVE!! You write him excellently!!

Could I request some more Lulu pieces? :') Maybe a reader who's sad and melancholic by nature being drawn to Lucifer's absolute banger of a personality because he's so showy and fun (while also like. he Gets it, he gets sad too)?

Hi! Aahh thank you!! That's so nice of you to say!

I'm not sure if you meant you wanted this as a head cannon or a fic so I wrote it as a fic? Hope you enjoy! (if it's not what you want you can always request again and I'll be MORE than happy to do another one :) srsly)

Word Count: 6.5K

Lucifer x melancholic reader

You had been in hell for quite a few years, carving out a small life of your own through the decades that had passed, and after many years of working any job you could find, taking up any extra shifts that presented themselves, and spending and living cautiously, you had managed to rent a nice flat for yourself in a rather affluent sector of the Pride ring. That accomplishment, however, did not last long. Good things never did in Hell.

The last extermination had been particularly cruel, and your street had been targeted particularly hard. Thankfully you had been away at a friends place at the time (a little tradition the two of you had formed over the years) but when you returned the next morning the street you used to call home was no more. Barely any citizens of the accompanying streets had survived, and all of the buildings and businesses had been forced to collapse in on themselves as a final fuck you from Heaven.

Life in Hell was hard, and every year the weight across your shoulders and pressing down against your heart seemed to grow. It was endless, and by the time you had managed to scramble the remnants of your life back together the next extermination happened, or the next Overlord turf war, or god-knows what else happened down here. You were not a particularly optimistic person, and this recent upheaval of your life had placed you in a rather dire situation. It had been a steady declination over the years: you barely smiled, the gnawing worry of something about to go wrong always sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach, you couldn't really remember the last time you had felt truly, inexcusably, happy.

That had been three months ago now, and in that time you found yourself a steady job working at Hell's newest establishment: the Hazbin Hotel. The owner, Charlie, was a sweet girl and always bound over ecstatically to tell you about her ideas for the 'redemption of sinners' (you had a hard time believing in her dreams yourself, but you admired her unwavering optimism). She always tried her damnest to drag you into the 'group-activities' the residents of the hotel partook in, and you often found yourself being wilfully dragged along by the wrist, muttering lame excuses about needing to clean, before plopping next to someone and joining in on the fruitless fun.

Charlie's father was an illusive figure, and in the three months you had been here you hadn't seen him, but you often heard Charlie muttering about him to Vaggie. Despite his physical absence, the head honcho of hell himself seemed a rather doting father, constantly ringing Charlie and a gift-basket arriving at the front door whenever she lamented about a particularly bad week.

You had accepted this new style of life, dutifully completing your chores, keeping your head down to avoid trouble in the form of the Radio Demon, and spending your nights drinking at the bar with the other residents. You were secluded, quiet, but a pleasant presence that the others around you slowly grew to appreciate. Everything had finally settled, and after three months, you had mistakenly believed nothing would change until the next extermination came along.

How wrong you were.

You had been abruptly awoken one morning by Niffty of all creatures, picking your lock with the knife Alastor had gifted her and clambering onto your bed, bouncing on her heels excitedly and yanking the quilt from your shoulders.

"Niffty? It's 6- go back to bed." You motion away laconically, trying to burrow into your comfy sheets. You didn't have to be awake for another hour.

"He's coming! He's coming!" She chirps excitedly, brandishing her knife dangerously as she jumps about. "Up! Charlie wants the place spotless before he arrives!"

"We have another guest?" You stifle a yawn as you sit up, one hand rubbing at your eyes as Niffty attempts to drag you by your fingers to your dresser. You let her struggle, not budging and watching tiredly. "Arriving this early?"

"Yes! He'll be here in two hours and we need to clean!"

"Two hours?" You sigh heavily, making a show of laying back down as Niffty squeals at you to get up. The little woman is persistent, and you can feel her shadow looming over you even from behind closed eyelids. "Is he that important? He better be fucking royalty if Charlie expects us to clean for two hours."

"He is!" One eye cracks open, and you stare at Niffty incredulously. "Lucifer is coming! WE-" She grabs a firm hold of your top and yanks. "NEED-" tug "TO-" tug "CLEAN."

"Lucifer?!" You bolt upright, Niffty falling off the bed to the floor with a yelp. You peer over your side-table to look at her. "The Lucifer? Charlie's Dad Lucifer? The King of Hell Lucifer?"

"What other Lucifer would it be?" Niffty sasses, dusting herself down as she springs to her feet. "The baddest bad boy." She grins at you, and you suddenly feel incredibly uncomfortable. "We need to make a good impression! I need to make a good impression! You know he's single?" She bounce on her feet as you clamber from your bed, hurriedly sifting through your drawers. Two hours to sort this mess of a hotel out? You'd have more chance of suddenly coming back to life. "I love bad boys- Sir Pentious was such a let down but Lucifer? Oh My Go-"

"Yes, we all like a bad boy." You nod along, Niffty's eyes brightening as you agree. "Don't tell Sir Pentious that, he considers himself quite a bad boy, you'll hurt his feelings."

"Oh, he already knows." Niffty shrugs nonchalantly, hopping restlessly from foot to foot. "Now come! We have work to do!" and with that, the small woman goes speeding from your room, leaving you standing, disheveled, with a cluster of clothes in your arms. You blink slowly, rolling your shoulders, this was going to be a long day.

---

Two hours had gone by in a blink, and now you stood, slightly out of breath, lined up with the rest of the staff near the bar as Charlie paced in front of the entrance to the Hotel. You hadn't stopped moving all morning and your back and shoulders ached, having to hoist Niffty above your head to reach the hard-to-reach places you usually wouldn't bother cleaning. You were wedged between Angel Dust and Husk.

The door opens with a slam, ricocheting into the wall as a man bundles the princess of hell into a tight embrace with a gleeful yell. "Charlie!" The short-statured man lifts the blonde from the floor, swinging her around as he continues to chirp happily. "It's so good to see you! Have you grown? You feel taller!"

"It's good to see you too Dad!" Charlie tries to respond, and you stifle a chuckle into your hand as she gasps around the vice-like grip Lucifer has around her torso.

"Dad-!" Charlie finally tugs free, and you elbow Angel Dust as he snickers. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. These are our residents, this is-" Charlie begins to introduce everyone, but Keekee takes that moment to appear between Lucifer's legs.

"Keekee!" He all but squeals, and your eyes widen in shock at the pitch his voice takes as he squats down to fuss the happy cat. You share a pointed look with Angel Dust. Lucifer is distracted, again, as Razzle and Dazzle fly into his vision, and he immediately reaches for them with a joyous laugh.

He fusses them even more so than the cat, laughing to himself and twirling his cane between his fingers as he beams at the creatures. Charlie looks embarrassed, you notice with a sly smirk, rubbing her arms and trying to guide her Dad's attention away from the animals fluttering about his head.

You can't help but find this version of Lucifer rather jarring. You had been expecting a rather serious, intimidating, and otherwise authoritative man to come stalking into the Hotel. This version? This white-suited, rosy-cheeked, tall-hatted man with an ear-splitting grin was anything but the image you had been conjuring in your head ever since you had stepped foot in Hell. The brim of his hat flops as his head finally snaps towards your direction, and he straightens it with unfaltering confidence as he swaggers over.

You can't help but notice how much warmer his grin is compared to Alastor's, whose grin seemed to hide a threat behind it in most situations.

"Oh!" He stops short as Niffty barrels through Angel Dust's legs brandishing a pan of freshly baked cookies, with copious dollops of red icing splattered across their surface. A welcoming gift no one had asked for, but she had taken it upon herself to provide them anyway.

"Ah! What kind staff!" Lucifer entertains the woman, bending at the waist and looking at the cookies with raised eyebrows. "Thank you! But I will have to decline my dear, as young and dashing as I look" he wiggles his brows mockingly. "I must be careful with what I eat! When you reach 10,000 you'll understand."

He skilfully breezes past the tray with a bow of his head and a wave of his staff, distracted once again on his journey to greet Sir Pentious.

"Oh my-" He taps his cane against the carpeted floor as he spins, soaking up the main foyer. You had to admit, it didn't look much better from the state it was in before you had woken up. You pick at your sleeve nervously.

"Oh well, would you look at-" He makes a series of sounds as he surveys the inside of the hotel, brows furrowed contemplatively as he nods to himself, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Well- it certainly has character Char-Char!" He turns to his daughter, still beaming, completely unaware of Charlie's growing regret at having invited him over in the first place.

"Now! Time to introduce me to your friends. Who are these fine ladies and gentlemen?"

Charlie is quick to pull Vaggie to her side, holding her hand as she nervously introduces her girlfriend.

Lucifer practically vibrates at the news. "You like girls! Oh- so do I! Look at that, we have so much in common!" He motions between them excitedly, immediately extending a hand out to Vaggie, and yanking her into an equally as crushing hug as he tells her to 'put it there'. You watch as Vaggie struggles to breath over the man's shoulder, the man finally releasing her with an airy laugh and a comment about how pretty she was and how lucky Charlie is.

You smile despite yourself. You rather liked this version of Lucifer.

He finally turns to Sir Pentious, who withers in his skin and salutes, half out of respect, half out of terror.

"Your Majesty." Pentious doesn't move as Lucifer watches him, grin faltering slightly at the snake's lack of movement. He swiftly moves on with a 'thank you' grin brightening as he extends a hand to Angel Dust.

"Look at you! What I wouldn't do for those legs-" Husk splutters from beside you and you have to bring a hand up to hide the way you bit your lip to refrain from laughing. Lucifer only reached halfway up Angel Dusts' torso, and didn't shy away from emphasising the height difference by craning his neck at a near 90 degree angle to look at the others face. "Oh not like that! Forgive me. Though, you do have very nice legs, I meant your height. You could make a man jealous."

Angel Dust takes the opportunity, Lucifer spluttering over his apology, to bend down in some semblance of a bow, sultry smirk permanently etched onto his cheeks. "Heya, short King." For good measure, he places a kiss on the back of Lucifer's hand.

"My, my-" You have to commend him for not yanking his hand out of the spiders grip immediately, and watch tensely as he takes a minimal step back, straightening the lapels of his jacket: you were next. "what charming guests! I see why you insist on staying here Char-Char."

He stops before you, both hands resting atop his cane as he grins widely, a soft energetic thing that you can't help but replicate. "And who might this lovely lady/gentleman be?"

"And this," Charlie rushes to your side, evidently aware of your nerves. "is an incredibly valued member of our staff. Y/N. They've been working here for around 3 months and the place would've fallen to disrepair without them and Niffty."

You smile softly, bowing your head in respect as Lucifer finally stands before you.

"No need for that my dear, a friend of Charlie's is a friend of mine." He extends a hand which you tentatively take, shaking your hand firmly and watching you from beneath the brim of his hat. He was nothing short of charismatic, a perfect image of gentlemanly friendliness and cocksure confidence. Despite this, you couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated, he was the King of Hell after-all. "To say this place is still standing after all these years is nothing short of a miracle! You must truly have a golden touch." He waggles his fingers at you to emphasise his point, tilting his head inquisitively as you lightly blush at the compliment, averting your gaze for a moment. The man before you was truly some sort of magician, a purveyor of witchcraft of some sort: his presence was so large, so demanding, so absolutely enchanting you didn't have the capacity to think about any of your normal worries, nor the way your shoulders and back ached. In that moment, it was just him, and his silly little antics, and that was all.

"Thank you, sir. I'd truly be lost without Niffty-"

"Yes, the baker." He nods, cane nestled in the crook of his arm. You both decide to ignore the way Niffty squeals at the fact he remembered her from not even 10 minutes ago. "And no, absolutely not. Do not call me 'sir' under any circumstances." His voice was light and airy, clearly poking fun, not conveying any of the threat of violence that would usually accompany someone of such stature. He tilts his head again, grinning at you, wafting his hands around aimlessly. "Makes me feel old. I certainly am old, but I like to play into this fantasy that I'm not. Help an old man accomplish his dream won't you?"

"Certainly, Lucifer."

"And how have you been finding working at the hotel? I hope my dear Charlie here hasn't been working you too hard - she does sometimes forget not everyone is as energetic as she can be."

"Dad, stop making fun of me in front of my friends." Charlie goes to loop her arm with his and drag him away, but he remains rooted on the spot. Battering her reaching hands back with a laugh and a spin and a tap of his cane.

"I'm not poking fun at all Char-Char!" The grin he adorns, and the upturn of his voice indicate he very much was, and was very much succeeding in embarrassing her. "and you, Y/N? The hotel?"

"Hard work, but I've loved every moment of it." You lie, thinking back on the many times you had been up to your shoulder in some sewage piping, and the stench that had followed you for days. "The people definitely more so than the actual work: the plumbing." Your pinched expression and open disgust has Lucifer laughing, leaning onto his cane as he listens intently. "I don't know how it's all still standing but it is so we must be doing something right."

"That's it!" He hops excitedly on the spot, cane falling into his hand and tapping against the floor. In a surprising turn of events, he grabs your hand and spins you along with him. "That's the spirit! I see why Char-Char hired you."

He releases you surprisingly delicately, leaving you in the same spot he found you, withdrawing his hand from your elbow and returning it atop his cane. With a nod of his head and another grin he moves on to Husk, before being whisked away by Alastor, the man gripping the tip of Lucifer's cane firmly and practically dragging him to another part of the hotel with Charlie and Vaggie in tow. No one dares move until the chattering of the group fades into the distance, and you release a breath you didn't even know you'd been holding. You go to turn to Husk, about to make fun of him for his reaction over Lucifer's comment about Angel's legs, but four arms gripping your shoulders and biceps has you spinning in the other direction. Angel Dust has a firm grip of you, and drags you close, face mere inches from yours. You stare back with wide eyes.

"What the fuck was that?" He asks, almost giddy, shaking you at the shoulders as Husk and Sir Pentious stand either side of him. "You sly little- our little friend has the King of Hell gagging for it!"

"What." You attempt to pull yourself away, but the spider is surprisingly strong. Your eyes flicker between each of the men: Angel Dust is practically gushing on the spot, shaking you excitedly, Sir Pentious looks rather teary-eyed, and Husk has an infuriating smirk that he was doing a poor job at hiding.

"He asked you to entertain his fantasy! That's foreplay!" Angel lifts you from the floor for a moment, dragging you close to stare deeply into your eyes. "And you played along! Ha! Didn't know you had it in you, toots."

"What? Angel- that is not foreplay!" You just accept the shaking, moving your arms with what little freedom they had to try and calm the ecstatic man. "It's small talk! This is a hotel, not a porn set, not everything leads to sex."

"You liked it!" He ignores you completely.

"You did have a rather besssotted look." Sir Pentious unhelpfully adds, clasping his hands in front of his chest and rocking himself side to side. "It was sssweet-"

"I've never seen you smile so much." Husk pipes up, arms crossed in front of his chest and a smug smirk aimed your way.

"He's very charismatic." You argue, and that was true. The man had come barrelling into the hotel with an entertainers flare and had somehow maintained the thousand-mile-a-minute charisma no matter what had been thrown his way. You could admire that. "And that's rich coming from you." You chirp back, finally untangling yourself from two of Angel's four arms. "You nearly choked when he mentioned Angel's legs."

"I was taken by surprised." Husk remains unflappable, but you don't fail to notice the bristling of his wings. "Stop deflecting. For once, I think Angel's right."

"I'm always right!" Angel Dust argues, finally releasing you and swinging an arm over Husk and Sir Pentious' shoulders. "And I say Lucifer's whipped, and you're gagging for it too."

None of you had noticed Niffty, who had been stood behind Angel Dust's legs for the entire conversation. You do notice her, however, when she starts sobbing on the spot, big fat tears streaming down her cheeks. The three men spring apart at the noise, and you all turn to look down at the distraught woman. This was not going to be easy.

---

Lucifer had stayed at the hotel for quite a while, being shown around by Charlie, Vaggie and Alastor whilst the rest of you returned to your normal duties, except on your best behaviour. Niffty had set to work exterminating the bugs around the hotel, throwing herself into work to avoid thinking too hard about how the 'baddest hottest boy' didn't seem all that interested in her or her biscuits, Husk remaining stationed behind the bar and dutifully serving drinks to Angel and Pentious, and you with a broom sweeping the foyer just to give yourself something to do.

One of Alastor's 'friends' had shown up whilst he and Charlie had been showing Lucifer the bar, and now Mimzy was left in Husk and Angel Dust's faithful hands as Alastor continued the tour. You didn't like her very much, and had been pretending to be incredibly busy to avoid having to talk to her.

Vaggie had joined the bar 10 minutes ago, and you had swept closer and closer to hear the discussion, despite the proximity to Mimzy which you'd rather avoid.

"Alastor's dragged him into some pissing contest." She groans, reaching for the drink Husk slid her way. "The Radio freak really doesn't like him, it's non-stop. I've never seen Alastor this close to going full freak-mode, it's worse than when Angel tried to sit on him."

"Maybe he's jealous." Angel grins, gaze turning towards you. You take this as your sign to leave, but he calls your name before you can. "Y/N here captured the Big Bosses attention earlier. You know Alastor, he doesn't like being upstaged."

"Oooh, you captured Lucifer's attention?" Mimzy swivels in your direction. You grip your broom harder, really wishing you had left the room when you had the chance. "You?" She doesn't hide the way she looks you up and down, and suddenly here voice becomes much more snide. "What did you do to impress him? Care to tell a girl a secret?"

"I didn't." You argue, tapping your broom against the floor. "He said hello to all of us, and that's that. He's just very friendly."

Mimzy opens her mouth, but the building suddenly rocks and the font doors bend under the weight of something. A man's voice yells from outside the hotel, and Mimzy suddenly has other worries on her mind. "Oh, shit."

A portal opens in the foyer, and Charlie and Lucifer hop through, Lucifer closing it with a snap of his fingers.

"What's going on?" Vaggie shouts over another loud slam. Mimzy hides behind the bar, much to Husk's dismay. After revealing the debt she was currently under, and the reason the loan sharks outside were particularly angry, you all stand in silence, every glare aimed in the short blonde's direction.

Suddenly, a flaming ball of something crashes through one of the ornate windows on the face of the hotel, and everyone shrieks as they dive for cover.

"My windows!" Niffty shrieks as Angel hauls her out of the way of falling debris. Sir Pentious off-handedly passes you a plate of biscuits as he slithers past, yelling about being under siege. You don't have time to acknowledge the plate in your hands, dropping it abruptly as you dive out of the way of another piece of ceiling. You were too far from the bar to seek shelter, so you begin sprinting in the other direction, aiming for the stairs. Suddenly, a figure crashes into you, strong hands grasping your arms and tugging you along with them. The staircase you were about to charge up explodes in a shower of wood and cement.

Your head snaps to the right and you make eye-contact with your saviour, Lucifer's bright red eyes staring back at you, and releasing your elbow with a smile and a pat of your shoulders. "This is exactly what I was telling Charlie!" He seems satisfied at his correct predictions, but he frowns at the damage as he pulls you further back from the creaking pile of wood. "You can't have nice things in Hell."

You breath deeply, rattled at how close you had come to being crushed, but Lucifer seems completely unaware of everyone's terror, standing back and commentating to himself, and now you.

"I'm afraid all your hard work, and golden fingers, and whatever else is going to waste." He laments, tugging you away from another falling piece of ceiling. "It's a miracle it stayed up this long- hey!" He pulls you towards him again, side-stepping a piece of rubble elegantly as it crashes into the floor where you just stood. One hand still on your waist, he twist his cane with his other hand, frowning at the big lump of brick and cement.

"We just finished fixing the ceiling." You comment, frowning at the chunk of beam along with him. Your arms cross in front of your chest: this would take weeks to clean up. You could feel how sore your body would be afterward.

"I'm sure I could lend a helping hand, my dear." He grins, swinging his cane in an effort to bat a piece of ceiling tile away from his foot. "In fact, I'd love to. There's nothing better for the soul than some good hard physical work!"

As if suddenly realising where his other hand was, he lurches back, eyes widening as he makes a show of fixing his hat, gloved hands sliding along the brim and collecting the dust that had fallen onto it. "Ah, sorry about that. You just, seem to have a knack for standing right under the debris about to crush you. HA ha." That laugh was the first one of the afternoon that lacked genuity, and you didn't fail to notice the way he corralled you close to him as he kept an eye on the ceiling. "Can't have my daughters favourite employee turned into mulch after only meeting you for an hour."

"I'm not her fav-"

"Oh yes, you are." This time, he uses his cane to playfully guide you towards him, hooking it around the crook of your arm and pulling you along, walking backwards as he chats and surprisingly avoiding all debris in his way. "She won't ever say, but I know. And I can see why, you're mine too." He makes an extravagant shushing movement with his free hand, and pushes the tip of his cane into your side to emphasise his point. "Don't tell the others, they'll be jealous and I'm afraid there's simply nothing they can do to take your pedestal from you."

"Well, I-" You nearly fall over your own feet: what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

"But that's our little secret!" The pair of you finally make it back behind the bar, where Angel Dust, Niffty and Husk squatted, covering their heads. Upon seeing you both, Angel Dust makes a grab for Husk's attention, grinning wickedly. "Now you're all safe, I'm needed elsewhere." Lucifer unhooks his cane from your arm, pushing you with the tip of it towards Angel Dust. "Don't let that one go." Lucifer points at Niffty, who was trapped in Angel's arms as she moaned about the state of the hotel. "Or this one." He points at you now. "Abysmal survival skills, I'm telling you." And then he was gone, disappearing through a portal to some other location in the hotel.

You shuffle in closer to Husk, the feline stretching one of his wings above your head in precaution, the other doing the same for Angel Dust and Niffty. You see Angel Dust lean forward, shit-eating grin on his face. You pretend you can't hear his teasing.

---

Lucifer had frequented the hotel much more often after that, and true to his word had assisted in some of the restructuring despite Alastor being able to fix the majority of the damage with his magic. You had found yourself, despite knowing better, growing closer to Lucifer, finding yourself actually looking forward to his visits. He was so energetic, so absolutely unhinged but in the best kind of way, that you couldn't help but look forward to his presence.

He almost always sought you out during his visits, always checking up and asking about how you had been finding the work. He often jabbed, asking if you felt as though you were being redeemed, and you actually entertained his jokes. They weren't at your expense, unlike Angel Dust and Husk, and they weren't targeted at some deep-rooted insecurity, like Alastor's often were. He was like a caricature come to life, and brought just the right amount to excitement to your life. You called your feelings towards him merely friendly, everyone else said otherwise.

Despite this newfound friendship, or 'this absolutely maddening foreplay' as Angel Dust called it, you still had bad days. Today was one of those bad days. The next extermination was closer than the previous one, and you had been feeling the typical stress around such an event. It didn't help that you had grown to care so deeply for the other inhabitants in the hotel - even Alastor to some degree, despite his aloofness - and your worries only seemed to grow the more you realised you didn't want things to change. You were happier here then when you had had your own flat the year prior, and the realisation that it could all be whisked away just as easily was terrifying.

You needed a day to yourself to sort your mind out, but you didn't want to pressure Charlie with your worries, so here you were, sweeping, hiding a frown and trying not to think about too hard about anything in particular. No one had seemed to pick up on your downtrodden mood in the last few days, but Lucifer always had a way of shaking things up.

Lucifer arrived around midday, greeting everyone with typical pleasantries and whisking Charlie away to discuss something about her meeting with Heaven. You were secretly glad he actually had something to do during this visit, you didn't want to ruin the relationship you had by raining on his parade.

You busied yourself, taking control of the tasks outside of the communal areas in the hopes you wouldn't bump into the blonde man. You would just catch up with him next time he visited. Lucifer however, had began searching for you as soon as he had finished discussing what he needed to with Charlie - he hadn't seen you in nearly a month, having been too busy to stay the last few times he had visited, and he was beginning to miss you.

He had had to school his behaviour massively after the first month of knowing you, finding himself thinking about you a little too often, modelling his ducks with features similar to yours, and just being a rather sappy mess. Charlie had mentioned this newfound behaviour to him, noticing the uplift to his mood around you, and the way he always just so happened to find himself in the same room as you in the hotel. He had denied the allegations at first, and had tried his hardest to remain nothing but friendly. But that had absolutely wrecked his mood, and the amount of space you took up in his mind only grew the more he tried to stay away. He had admitted to Charlie his growing feelings towards you, feeling his daughter had a right to know. Charlie had been ecstatic, and had been his biggest wing-woman.

He had even stopped wearing his wedding ring, and it now sat in the first drawer of his desk wrapped in silk. Charlie had cried when she noticed, hugging him tight and telling him how happy she was that he was finding someone for himself. He had cried too.

He still had yet to tell you, but baby steps.

He eventually found you on the hotel roof. He had searched everywhere, and was about to give up his efforts before he remembered helping you bring some furniture to the ceiling, smiling at your comments about enjoying the peace and quiet and the cool fresh air. He found you where he expected; sat on battered sofa he had helped you carry up here, a book in your lap and head turned towards the skyline.

"Y/N, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you." He closes the door to the roof behind him, walking over with leisurely steps, tapping a soft rhythm with his cane as he approaches. "My what a beautiful sight! Lugging that god-awful sofa up all those steps was definitely worth it!"

You jolt in your seat, and he frowns as your furiously wipe at something on your face. You think better of turning towards him, bowing your head down as you curse internally. You had thought he had left, fuck.

"Lucifer!" You still don't turn towards him, head held low and trying your best to remain composed. His frown deepens at the shake and crack to your voice. "I- I didn't realise you were still here."

Lucifer hesitates in his steps, approaching much more slowly. "I wouldn't leave without at least saying hello, how rude of me that would be." He comments softly, coming to stand behind the sofa. "My dear, is everything all right?"

You breathe deeply, wishing you would disappear on the spot as he rounds the side of the sofa, hand sliding along the fabric as he does.

"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong?" He questions, crouching next to you and trying to catch a glimpse of your face. His voice was so soft, so utterly and completely different to anything you had ever heard come from him. You almost sob when you glance at his big round eyes, filled with nothing but concern. You didn't want this, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"I'm sorry." You stutter out, pressing your palms into you eye sockets and leaning on your knees. "I just-" What? You were sad? For reasons completely out of anyone's control? What would be the point in telling him? "I don't know- it was a bad day."

Usually his cane tapped against you to gain your attention, but this time you felt two warm hands - he had taken off his gloves, when had he done that? - grasping delicately at your wrists. He tugs lightly, coaxing them down into your lap and holding them there, a thumb running over your knuckles as he waits, patiently.

Realising you weren't going to say anything else, he takes a deep breath.

"You know, everyone has bad days. But I don't think sitting all by your lonesome will help." He hesitates, and your bloodshot eyes lock with his. For the first time you've seen, a frown tugs at his lips, and his eyes look sad. "I would know."

He slowly sits next to you on the sofa, placing his hat on the floor with one hand still holding one of yours in your lap. "You know, I have a fair few bad days - more than I'd care to admit." He speaks slowly, gently, careful with his words but honest, genuine. "When I fell from Heaven, hell, even once Lilith left- well, I didn't know what to do with myself. I'm man enough to admit."

You huff out a laugh, and he smiles sadly at you. "And sometimes, sometimes people are sad for no particular reason because being here is hard. Life was hard, never mind death." You laugh again at the accuracy of what he was saying. A hand comes to gently rest against the underside of your chin and jaw, gently lifting your face to his. You follow his movements, and your lip quivers at the look of complete concern he sends your way.

"But you're- you're you." You stress, and he laughs at the absurdity of it. "You're amazing, and so good at cheering others up, and you make the people you're around so happy." You sigh deeply, completely unaware of the way his heart flutters a the compliment - he made you happy? A watery smile makes its way to his face. "And I- I don't. I'm just-"

"You make me so happy." He interrupts abruptly, not caring for his dearest secret that he was letting slip. "and the others in the hotel, even Alastor, who you know I despise, and it infuriates me that he gets to spend so much time with you, because he is so lucky." His hand falls from your chin, playing absentmindedly with a strand of your hair. "So lucky that they get to spend so much time with you. And they know, Alastor wouldn't stop bragging about you when we first me, it drove me nuts. And Angel Dust? He practically never stops talking about you."

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel your chest swell with something, not pride, not confidence, but something far more fond.

"But, that doesn't always fix our problems. You can be sad regardless of all that. Sometimes there is nothing you can do, but it always helps, and I mean always, when you talk to someone." He scoots minimally closer on the sofa, knee pressed against your own. "You don't even have to say what's wrong, but company is so much better than one's own thoughts."

He sends a pointed look towards the book you were attempting to read, and now lay against the floor. "And for one I think I'm much better company than some book."

You laugh properly this time, wiping at your puffy eyes. "Thank you."

Lucifer seems to gain some confidence back at hearing your laugh, and he puffs his chest in pride. "Having said all that, I hate seeing you cry. Can I please stay?"

You smile, agreeing.

"I have just the remedy for days like this." He grins, his usual cheerfully personality returning. "Now, come here." He extends his arms, beckoning joyfully. You stare, uncertain. "I may be the Big Boss but I don't bite, all the time." He winks, and he pulls you towards him without further question, dragging you in close to his chest as he rests back against the plush armrest. You freeze for a moment, unsure where to place your hands, where to rest your head, and he seems to pick up on your dilemma. A hand comes to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in close to rest your cheek against his chest, right above his heart, and he tucks you tightly under his chin, arms snaking their way tightly around your waist.

You sigh, relaxing into his warm embrace, and your heart rate picks up as you feel warm lips press against your temple, a soft murmur of "There, much better." breathed against your skin in a low voice.

He rests his chin back over the top of your hair, watching the skyline and trying his best not to combust on the spot. He hopes you can't feel his heartbeat through his jacket, but he would much rather you be pressed against him than not at all.

"Fuck that book, next time something happens, or there's a bad day, you come and find me. Yes?" A hand runs up your bicep absentmindedly, and you can feel the rumble of his chest beneath you.

Your worries were not gone completely, and that familiar sadness still clung to the pit of your stomach, but you could get used to this. This was definitely better than some book.

Perhaps Angel Dust was right, for once - perhaps you did feel a little more than friendship for Lucifer, if the thrumming of your heart and the fluttering of your stomach was anything to go by.

"Of course, Lucifer. And the same if you have 'one of those days'. Deal?"

He grins. "Deal."

Charlie screams when Lucifer tells her about what he did, and Angel Dust screams even louder when she lets him know.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbinhotel niffty #niffty #husk #charlie morningstar #Lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader #Lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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not-magdi · 6 months

Text

(Not so) Quiet Evenings

Summary: Lando is alone with his son for the first time

Warnings: None, just so high risk of a baby fever

Words: 1.1k

A/N

I wanted to thank you for 1k notes on Little Update. So I wrote another dad!lando to thank all of you! <3

(I wanted to put a picture with him and a baby here but this was way too cute to not post❤️)

Carmen and Lily invited you to a small baby-free get-together. Nothing too big, just the three of you sitting together, relaxing and letting loose for a bit.

This whole thing was actually Lando's idea. He wanted to get you out of the house for a bit, sensing that you needed a little break from being a mama bear.

So he asked Lily if she could invite you over to catch up and keep your mind off of things a little. Of course, she said yes, already starting to plan the second Lando asked her.

So now the Brit is sitting on the couch, watching you rush through the apartment to grab everything you need.

"Baby, you're gonna be fine, trust me. It's just Lily and Carmen."

Halting your movements, you turn to him, your phone in one hand and your keys in the other.

"I know it's just I want this to be perfect. It's been so long since I went out."

Lando stands up and makes his way over to you, stopping right in front of you.

"You're going to be ok. Enjoy your night. Me and the little muppet are going to have a great night."

Lando strokes your arms, kissing your head to calm you down.

"Speaking of the little muppet." You turn around and grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind you. "I wrote you a little list so you don't get overwhelmed by being alone."

Lando takes the paper and reads through the different points.

Try to feed him before bed. So he sleeps a little bit longer( milk is already in the bottle)

Bath him (use the blue and the green bottles on the sink)

If he gets fussy, play the F1 intro. (Works every time!)

Try to get him to bed around 7:30 p.m.

You're going to do great. You're a super dad, and I believe in you.

"Aww, you're cute."

Wrapping his arms around you, he wishes you a lovely evening and practically pushes you out the door.

Now, standing alone in the quiet apartment, a feeling of nervousness creeps up in his body. He grips the list you gave him a little tighter and makes his way into his son's room.

Gently opening the door, he smiles at his son's sleeping figure, cuddled up in his little cot. Lando walks into the room, approaches his son and gently takes him into his arms.

Henry wakes up and looks at his dad with his adorable big blue eyes, cuddling himself into Lando's shoulder.

Lando strokes his back to settle little Henry in his arms again, feeling the soft material of his little bear pyjamas between his fingers.

"Well, hello there, little man. Slept well?" He asks, earning himself a happy gurgle.

"I take that as a yes."

He carries Henry into the living room, asking him all sorts of questions on the way.

"You also think that nobody needs fish, right? Say nothing if you agree."

Hearing complete silence from the sleeping baby in his arms, he looks down to find Henry in a deep slumber again. He laughs a little at how much they already have in common, being able to sleep everywhere.

The two continue to cuddle for a bit. Lando tells him all sorts of stories until he feels Henry getting restless on his chest.

"You getting hungry, little bud?"

Henry lets out a whine, grabbing the shirt he lays on with his little fists. Lando strokes his back to settle him again, and stands up to grab a bottle from the kitchen.

"How does Y/N do that?"

In the kitchen, he currently tries to heat the bottle while holding the baby in his arms, which turns out to be more complicated than he thought, with a squirming baby in his arm.

"How about- no, that's not going to work."

"And if I just- nope, also not."

After some time, he finally figured it out. He stuck Henry into his hoodie and held him with one hand while he prepared the bottle with the other.

Now, he is sitting in your bathroom waiting for the water to be the perfect temperature.

Let's say feeding didn't go quite as planned. The food was everywhere except Henry's mouth, on the floor, on Henry, the curtains, but mainly on Lando.

So, now that both of them needed a bath, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

The water is warm enough now, so he grabs little Henry and climbs into the tub. The warmth engulfs their bodies as he lays down.

"Yeah, that's better. Admit it, you just wanted to bathe with me."

Henry gives his dad a toothless smile and splashes him with water. Lando giggles at his son's antics and grabs the soap to start washing him.

After he washed himself and the baby, he got both of them dressed. They are both dressed in matching quadrant hoodies, something Max gifted him as Henry was born.

Land decides the world needs to see how unbelievably cute he and Henry look, so he takes a picture and posts it on his story.

Millions of messages arrive to him in a matter of minutes, but he ignores them and makes his way over to Henry's little nursery. He is fighting to keep his little eyes open, so Lando decides it is time for him to call it a night.

The second he lays him down in his crib, he starts to whine, not liking the loss of his father's warmth one bit.

So Lando picks him up again, walks to the living room and sits on the couch.

"You don't want to sleep yet, do you?"

He coos at him and bounces up and down to settle Henry a little. Happy to be in his dad's arms again, he settles back down and closes his eyes.

"Oh, so now you wanna sleep? Little evil genius, you got that from your mom."

Not wanting to wake him up, Lando decides to stay on the couch and watch some TV until Henry is sleeping deep enough. It doesn't take long for Lando to doze off, one hand on his son's back and the other under his butt, having him in a safe grip.

And that's exactly how you found them two hours later, cuddled up on the couch, the TV playing in the background.

Smiling to yourself, you take out your phone and take a picture of the two of them, definitely posting that later. But for now, you walk up to them and cuddle yourself to your perfect little family.

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #dad! lando norris #dad!driver #lando norris #formula one #dad!lando

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moonlinos · 1 month

Text

It’s so tasty, come and chase me

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food

♡ Word count: 2.3k

♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️

You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.

Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.

Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.

Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.

“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.

Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.

Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.

He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.

Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.

Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.

He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.

“Weren’t you dying?”

“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.

“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”

You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”

“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”

He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”

“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”

You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.

You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).

“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”

“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”

“Then stop disrupting me.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.

“Be my guest,” you shrug.

Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.

But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”

You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.

He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.

“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.

“Fuck off.”

Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.

But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.

“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”

He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”

You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.

So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.

“I’d love to help you.”

With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.

Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.

“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”

You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.

“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.

“Grab the bag for me, hm?”

You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.

He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.

“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”

Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.

“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.

You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.

And then both your eyes land on the cake.

Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.

“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.

You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.

“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.

After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.

A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.

“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.

“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.

“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz #hyunjin fluff

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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months

Text

can we...cuddle?

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

summary - Law really wants to cuddle with you, but he's just not that good at asking for it.

warnings - not proofread, wrote it at 23:30 on New Year's Eve, pretty tired from an eventful day. also wanted to get it out before my tribute to Ace for his birthday at 12am.

a/n - fluff fluff fluff, this just popped into my head because i was thinking about soft!law and how much i love him

Law had never been great at asking for anything he needs or wants. He was either too prideful or too embarrassed, depending on the situation. And with you, the embarrassment part seemed a lot more prominent, because he was starting to feel unusually clingy and needy for your attention and affection. It was embarrassing.

He has an issue with outright asking for it, though. He's usually a put-together, calm man who is always in control of what he feels and how he acts. However, around you, his body seems to forget that and his mind and heart both yearn for yours. He wants to be the only thing you think of, he wants to be the only one you love and show affection to, and he wants to be the only one you ever hold.

But he could never gather up the courage to ask you to hold him, damn it!

He would see you cuddling Bepo, and envy the bear for one of two things. One, for being so easily approachable for cuddles. Two, for being able to ask you for cuddles so easily. Law wasn't the jealous type, but he'd quickly learned that when he started dating you, he'd feel and do a lot of things he'd never dreamed of before.

"You okay, Law?"

Your soft voice brought him out of his irritated thoughts, and his expression softened considerably when his eyes landed on you. You looked tired, your eyes were drooping and your body was slumping, and Law had never seen anything cuter.

"Yes, (Name)-ya." He gently grabbed your elbow, leading you away. "Let's get you to bed now, sleepyhead."

You smiled at that, giggling in the most adorable way that had Law's heart flipping in his chest. He was both amazed and annoyed that you held such power over him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm not sleepy, you're sleepy."

He chuckled at that, guiding you into the room you both shared. For once, his work went ignored on the desk as he steered you towards the bed, his tense body only relaxing when you were safely lying on the mattress, pulling him down beside you.

"(Name)-ya-" He started, but you were already softly snoring, gripping onto his shirt like a baby. He would never admit it out loud, but the sight was enough to melt even his frigid heart.

He sighed. Another failed attempt at asking for cuddles. He got the cuddles anyway, but he wanted to be the one asking so he could show you that he craved your touch as much as you craved his.

The next time he tried to ask, you were laying in bed reading a book as you waited for him to finish working.

Once he was sick of whatever he was doing, he got up and slowly made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and discarding his coat before flopping down next to you. So preoccupied by your book, you hadn't noticed his arrival.

"What are you reading, (Name)-ya?"

You jumped in fright, the book flying out of your hands and settling on the floor next to the bed. Law's deep rumble of laughter met your ears, and you blushed in embarrassment, smacking his arm lightly and playfully.

"Law! Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry," he apologised insincerely, smirking. "You're so easy to scare."

You pouted, "You're mean."

"You love me anyway," his chest swelled at the fact.

"I do, I very much do," you smiled, heart warming.

You leaned over the side of the bed to pick your book up, but when you got back up you were met with a sleeping Law laying next to you. It was rare for him to fall asleep before you, but you knew he had been working himself non-stop, even more so than usual lately. You smiled softly, setting your book aside and thinking you'll find your page tomorrow as you shifted closer to the slumbering doctor, curling up close to him.

Law woke up the next day feeling incredibly disappointed. He had fallen asleep before he could even try asking you to cuddle him. He'd woken up to you cuddling him, but he still felt displeased by his irritating inability to state his need for your touch.

You woke up a little later in the morning, to a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. You smiled, knowing that was one of Law's ways of showing he cared. He couldn't cook, but he could make you coffee and did so every morning he woke up before you. Which, let's be real, is almost every morning. On the rare occasion you wake up before him, you have a full breakfast ready for him and a planned speech on how he should not feel guilty for not being able to do the same for you.

"Good morning, love."

You looked up at a working Law, hunched over his desk as he furiously scribbled something in his notebook. Your smile grew, and you slowly sat up in bed.

"Morning, captain."

He groaned, "I call you love and you call me captain?"

You giggled, "Sorry, my love. My baby. My one and only."

He hummed in satisfaction, "Much better." The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

You didn't mind much that he wasn't looking at you. He was paying attention to what you were saying, and that was more than enough for you. You knew how he could get, and had learned a long time ago to embrace and accept it.

"What will you do today?" He suddenly asked, a tad bit nervously.

"Well," you began, "Seeing as we are docked at an island and you're allowing everyone to take the day off, I think I might just stay right here in bed all day."

"Is that so?" He asked, amused. "How lazy."

You laughed at his teasing, the sound going straight to his heart. It swelled in response, growing warm in his chest. Your laugh was one of the few things that Law genuinely loved to listen to. He liked the way it made him feel, but also the fact that he had been the one to cause it.

"Very," you agreed. "But it's fun, you should try it sometime."

He finally turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you giving me orders, (Name)-ya?" His tone was teasing, his smile wicked.

"Hmmm, maybe," you taunted, grinning.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh, before a calm smile tugged at his lips. Pushing his work aside, he got up from his seat and walked over to the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge.

"I suppose I can indulge you just this once, then. Since no one is around to hear just how bossy you really are."

You laughed at that, eagerly shifting to make space for him, "What can I say? Sometimes my captain needs a little bossing to relax a little bit."

He chuckled, "I don't deny that."

Then, again, Law found himself struggling to ask for your touch. He wanted to ask you to cuddle him so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Finally, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he tried his best.

"(Name)-ya," he started nervously, "I like that thing you do...where you pull me close and hug me...but in bed." He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent but smirking, as if you knew what he wanted but you just wanted him to say it. He swallowed thickly. "You know where...you wrap your arms around me and keep me against your warm body." He blushed at his own words.

"Hmmm, what might you be speaking of, babe?" You teased him, evil grin on your face.

He sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his dark hair, "I'm trying to say...I mean I want to ask...do you-can we...can we cu-" He paused, silently mouthing the word. "Cuddle? Can we cuddle?"

Your eyes widened, because you hadn't really expected him to say it. Then you smiled and happily opened your arms for the flustered doctor. He obliged, sinking into them just as happily, a contented sigh leaving his lips.

"Law?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad you finally asked."

"Me too."

And from then on, Law wasn't shy to ask, he wasn't shy to pull you aside and just hug you, and he wasn't shy to show you that he needed to touch you just as much as you needed to touch him.

Congratulations, you unlocked Clingy Trafalgar Law.

#one piece #op #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law x you #one piece law #one piece law x reader #one piece law x you

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lucvly · 3 months

Note

i saw in ur matt bf headcanons thag he would love reader sitting on his lap so can u like make a story where they’re wit their friends or smth n the reader’s sitting on matt’s lap n she feels him get hard n like whispers “i hope what im feeling is ur keys” THEN LATER ON HE TAKES HER TO HIS ROOM N THEY FUCK! ☺️☺️ i hope that’s not confusing or anything

BLUE JEANS. ( matt sturniolo )

warnings › smut, exhibitionism if you squint, dirty talk, praise, slight consumption of alcohol, dom!matt (i’m a switch!matt truther guys please.)

author’s note › wrote this while listening to ldr 🤒 keep the reqs coming i have way too many but fuck it we ball !! also smut is definitely not my forte, bear with me.

› as much as you loved small get togethers with your closest friends, you weren’t sure your boyfriend and his brothers hosting one in their house was the smartest idea. you were wary of how the night would go, taking into consideration the fact that last time they hosted one of these get togethers nick and larray ended up playing beer pong on the kitchen counter, nearing a wasted state. but you still decided to attend and accompany your boyfriend, and you loved any occasion to dress up and spend time with your closest friends, so technically it was a win win situation for both of you.

showing up at their house, your doubts and wariness got pushed to the back of your head completely. your thoughts now shifting, wanting nothing more than to have a good time, some good conversations and spend time with your boyfriend and the presence of your closest friends.

“you look amazing.” you heard a voice that you could recognize anywhere as the door swung open carefully. “i’m sorry i couldn’t pick you up, princess. i had to help nick and chris put this whole thing together.”

as soon as he opened the door, a soft smile crept up onto your lips, analyzing his figure discreetly before even stepping a foot inside. he was the slightest bit sweaty, his hair messy, a lopsided smile plastered on his face as he gazed into your eyes, stepping closer to you, placing a greeting kiss on your lips as he took a hold of your waist with one hand, guiding you into the house, the other hand managing to softly close the door behind the two of you as you stepped in.

“that’s okay, you owe me though.” you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, watching the smile on his face widen ever so slightly.

“fair enough.” he shrugged jokingly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist, continuing to guide you inside.

the music was at a prudent volume, loud enough to not be able to hear anyone else’s conversations, but not soft enough as to where it became boring.

your friends were mostly all scattered across the living room, beanbags and couches filled with all your closest friends having closed conversations, laughing with red solo cups in their hands.

your boyfriend guided you towards the living room, settling one of the beanbags– and it was a given that you were sitting on his lap, his hands snaking to the sides of your waist, though one of them slid up to your stomach, rubbing up and down slightly as a gesture of comfort.

you struck up a conversation with nick who was sitting right next to you on the floor, he was telling you something about how he thought you and matt should get a room, and how he loved the skirt you were wearing today.

2:03 AM.

by the time the clock hit two in the morning, drowsiness started kicking in, though you were all in the middle of a very interesting game of truth or dare. currently madi was gasping at the names of every single one of nick’s exes, nick letting out possibly the loudest laugh.

you took the opportunity of this small break in the game to get a bit more comfortable on your boyfriend’s lap, considering you were starting to get a bit sleepy. you definitely underestimated how tricky getting comfortable in a beanbag would be, especially on your boyfriend’s lap. however, you started to shift your lower body, attempting to find a more comfortable position.

the hand that was on your waist tightened its grip ever so slightly, and the hand that was rubbing your stomach abruptly stopped its movements, a very faint noise coming out of matt’s mouth.

you were sure you were mistaken, probably the effect of the sleepiness that was starting to take over your body as you squirmed on his lap again, this time, hearing a low whisper, yet clear “fuck,” as matt attempted to play it off by clearing his throat.

you were still oblivious as to what was going through your boyfriend’s mind in that very moment, and you shifted your hips once more, finally finding a comfortable position on his lap, laying your head back on his shoulder for a bit more comfort.

this was all before you heard what you could definitely assure was a low groan from matt, followed up by both his hands resting at the sides of your hips now, gripping a bit tighter than usual. you started to feel something poking your thigh.

oh.

you slightly moved your head closer to his ear, lips close enough to softly whisper, “i hope what i’m feeling is your keys.” you spoke as you raised your eyebrows and laid your head back on his shoulder again.

“can’t help it when you’re moving like that.” he whispered back, forcing a soft laugh at some comment chris had made regarding one of the questions.

before you could even answer, your conversation was interrupted by madi, who, with a wide smile on her face, asked, “y/n, truth or dare.”

you thought for a second, though you had already mentally answered, because there was no way you were getting up when your boyfriend was gripping your hips like you’d run away at any second, and his boner was poking your inner thigh.

you teasingly sat up on matt’s lap before answering, forcing you to move your lower body again, which elicited a soft moan from him which he managed to play off as a cough. “hmm, truth.” you finally answered with a small smile, looking down at madi who was sitting right next to nick.

“hm, oh–” she paused before nick leaned over and whispered something to her followed by a fit of giggles from both of them. “where’s the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

your boyfriend leaned his head back and loudly groaned. you could tell he was trying his best to continue playing, but the raging boner and this conversation was definitely not helping his case.

you gasped in disbelief and shifted once again to turn to look at him, causing him to let out a choked grunt he quickly covered up by clearing his throat.

“you told nick about that?!” you exclaimed, your tone filled with disbelief as your mouth was still open, in a gasping expression.

“nick, i swear to god.” your boyfriend answered, his tone being full of annoyance. he wanted nothing more but to leave, but to his dismay, he was hosting– and it would be rude to leave the guests unattended.

“do i even wanna know?” madi’s face contorted in disgust, shaking her head as nick patted her back im faux comfort.

“you don’t. trust me.” nick answered plainly, and madi required no further explanation to know that she probably shouldn’t have asked that question.

“whatever. i’m tired, i’m going to bed.” matt spoke, mainly to the rest of your friends who were still seated or laying down on the floor filled with pillows and blankets for more comfort.

“y/n, you staying?” chris asked, slightly raising his eyebrows in amusement at matt’s quick change of attitude.

“i’ll go with him, someone’s gotta take care of him.” you joked, knowing that this was definitely about to get on matt’s nerves. the double entendre was quick to affect matt, unbeknownst to anyone else except the two of you.

his hips slightly bucked up against your ass, a very low groan, almost a whimper, escaping his lips as you spoke, his hands holding onto the sides of your waist tightly, as if he were to let go, you would run away. you couldn’t deny the wetness starting to pool in your panties, a hint of redness showing up on your cheeks.

“agreed.” chris replied, though he was already distracted with another conversation madi and nick were having, incredibly loudly.

you were thankful they were all so distracted and caught up in their conversations that they couldn’t tell what was going on with you and your boyfriend. this allowed you to quickly stand up, your boyfriend standing right behind you to cover himself up, both of you making your way to his room as quickly as possible.

as soon as you walked through his bedroom door, he shut the door completely closed, quickly locking it, and before you could even let a single word out of your mouth, he was pushing you up against the wall, crashing his lips with yours, engulfing you in possibly the neediest kiss he’d ever given you. his hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as your arms wrapped around his neck, reciprocating the kiss with equal force, your tongues fighting for dominance.

“god, i need you.” he managed to whisper in between kisses, his knee making its way between your legs, up all the way to your core, earning a low gasp of pleasure from you. “wanna make you feel good.” his hands made their way to the hem of your shirt, taking a shaky breath before asking, “can i?”

“yes, please,” you whined, shakily breathing as you stared into his eyes.

he wasted no time sliding your shirt off and skillfully undoing your bra as he leaned in for another passionate kiss, his hands sliding to cup your breasts, massaging them carefully as a loud moan escaped your lips. “matt–”

he knew you too well. he knew what you wanted without even having to voice it, and he followed your pleads, his hands moving down to undo your skirt, his gaze fixed on the way the skirt you were wearing hugged your curves so perfectly in a manner that made his cock twitch in his pants.

the skirt fell to the floor, revealing the lace panties that almost made matt cum in his sweatpants, a shaky breath eliciting from his mouth as he pulled your panties to the side, two fingers dipping down to rub your juices and spread them all over your cunt, preparing you for the stretch. “atta girl.” he whispered.

this earned a hiss and a low whimper from you, the cold metal from his rings contributing to the feeling of pleasure he was causing. you were sure your legs were going to give out, and your hands now lowered to hold onto his shoulders as your mouth was open agape, letting out shaky moans.

as soon as he felt you grip his shoulders tightly, he pushed two fingers into you, causing you to let out a loud moan and a whine of his name, making his cock twitch. he waited for a split second before starting to pump his fingers with ease, your wetness making it easier for him to slip in and out of you.

he was so focused on your expressions and your pleasure, watching your face contort with desire, your eyes rolling almost to the back of your head and your mouth open, letting out the prettiest sounds. it was priceless, he wouldn’t trade this moment for the whole world, knowing how good he could make you feel with just his fingers made his brain get hazy.

“you look so pretty like this,” he pumped his fingers in and out of you quickly, speeding up his movements as you whined and whimpered. it was starting to overwhelm you, everything about it. the coldness of his rings, the speed of his fingers, the whispered praise– before you knew it a knot was forming in the lower part of your stomach.

“i’m– fuck, i’m gonna cum.” you moaned out, already focusing on reaching your high, your hips grinding onto matt’s fingers for an extra sensation of pleasure– when all of the sudden, his movements stopped abruptly.

you could’ve sworn you almost let out a loud cry, a small whine escaping your lips as you held onto his shoulders as tight as possible, your legs slightly shaking. “please,”

“i need you to cum all over my cock,” his words sent a shiver down your spine, making you even wetter if that was physically possible, a blush rising to your cheeks despite the position you were currently in.

your lips connected once again in a hungry kiss, both of you making your way towards his bed as he broke the kiss for a second to take off his shirt, quickly kissing you again with desperation. you laid back onto his bed, almost all the way back, barely reaching the headboard, not once breaking the kiss.

he pulled back for a moment to take off his sweatpants and his boxers, not very mindful of where they were going to end up— all he wanted was to feel your cunt swallow his dick whole, and that was evident with the way his dick sprung up to his stomach, already leaking precum.

you could never get used to his size, and the mere sight of his dick springing up to his stomach made you squirm, almost drooling.

“shit, look at what you do to me, princess.” he spoke in a low tone, pumping himself a few times before leaning down close to you, lining himself up with your entrance before finally pushing himself inside, earning an almost pornographic moan from you as your hands moved to his back, your fingernails digging into his skin as he gave you a moment to adjust to his size.

after a quick moment he started moving with small grunts and groans, pushing himself in and out of you, almost abusing your cunt with the pace he was going at– your moans echoed through the room, loud cries of his name being heard as he pumped his dick into you.

“please, matt–” you whined loudly, digging your nails further into his skin as he thrusted even rougher, a dragged out groan coming from his lips.

“i know baby, let go, i got you.” he cut you off by pressing his lips onto yours, sharing a sweet yet desperate kiss as one of his hands reached down to your clit, using two fingers to stimulate you even further by rubbing at a speedy pace. “c’mon, let go angel.”

“i– fuck,” you cried out, the knot in the pit of your stomach finally coming undone with a loud moan of your boyfriend’s name, your nails scratching his back, leaving him with a burning sensation he was sure was going to leave marks by the next day.

“that’s it,” he praised, continuing his thrusts as you only managed the whine at the overstimulation, feeling his thrusts get sloppier as his breaths started to become uneven and unsteady. he thrusted even rougher a few more times before finally releasing inside of you with a loud groan, collapsing beside you on his bed, both of you attempting to catch your breath for a second.

you laid in comfortable silence for no longer than a minute before matt spoke up, “i’m gonna go run a bath for us, okay?” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before standing up.

“sounds amazing.”

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tremendum · 1 year

Text

Mr. Miller’s House

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)

word count: 7.6k requested: yes summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.” warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really, this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao

notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it. as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE!

[this is a sequel to Mr Miller. part three other Joel fics: fever landmines ]

★

this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea.

fuck.

the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.

you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-

you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table.

they glue themselves to him.

fuck.

Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this.

you yearn for that escape as much as he does.

then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad."

speak for yourself, Ellie.

both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil.

this girl's going to kill you.

it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement.

it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner.

no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile.

for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it?

it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father?

because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel.

you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks.

it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all.

but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey.

hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist.

the anger and hatred grew awful.

it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her?

you ought to punch his fucking face.

you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners."

he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him.

but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk, "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?"

you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him.

another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember.

peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.

proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine.

"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive.

a shiver runs down your spine.

does he ever think about it?

you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.

your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand.

your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him. "I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline.

nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again.

it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.

"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore.

you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it.

your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit.

a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core.

"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs."

"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning.

"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table."

"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice.

you listen, for once.

and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence.

several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen.

at least you and her are trying.

you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you.

he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you.

the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both.

you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity.

"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised.

his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?"

"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him.

"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-"

"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat.

"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward."

"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking.

you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now.

"Ellie, go home."

Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious.

"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something."

yeah, you think. you might.

Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence.

shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away.

Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold.

Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone.

it’s silent for a moment before he speaks.

"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps.

you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic."

"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted.

it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that.

you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it."

his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters.

you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that."

his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me."

"then why won't you show her!?" you yell.

it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again.

his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?"

you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice.

"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing."

thinking about- what?

oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited."

he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won.

"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet.

"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze.

"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you.

you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel."

his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words.

your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all.

your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.

ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago.

she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?

no.

you have to go over.

the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you.

you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him.

you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ.

god, you're so fucked up.

christ.

so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it.

what the fuck are you doing?

you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah. that’s... that’s fine.

fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly?

you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs.

Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now.

your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.

the door swings open in an air of irritation.

your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes.

"y'here for more?" he snarks.

your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit.

he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm.

you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.

you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel.

he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in."

your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought.

the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker.

your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again.

so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.

he’s going to fucking hurt.

it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard.

you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink.

but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock.

"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.

you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him.

your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response.

you give him one.

"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction.

his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner.

"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?"

his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly.

his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours.

"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now."

his voice is... scary.

the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so.

your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready.

his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?"

you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator.

you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation.

he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you.

"are you wet?"

your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes."

he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty.

"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen.

you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.)

"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner."

his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging.

you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet.

"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller.

"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him.

his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you.

"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums.

"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please."

his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up."

this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away.

"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat.

"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink.

it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand.

one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him.

there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you.

the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in.

"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away."

you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze.

you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon.

your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it.

he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?"

you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling.

"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart.

"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk.

you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out.

your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you.

Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?"

you groan, "fuck you, Joel."

his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit.

his hand slides out of your pants, face furious.

you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand.

he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch.

your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him.

"get on your goddamn knees now."

you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans.

your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum.

he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick.

"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?"

you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir."

"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it.

he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house.

two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air.

he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut."

you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions.

"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut."

he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself.

you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house.

he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more.

"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest.

you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you.

you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs.

"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?"

you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room.

Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame.

your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind.

your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him.

his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days.

you love it.

his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.

"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him.

"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know.

he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream.

it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days.

he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex.

your arms are tugged roughly.

panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling.

it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you.

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."

the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus.

"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice.

you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you.

you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it."

you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you."

it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone.

"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours.

soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much."

he hums, "you want me to stop?"

"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop.

he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it."

he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.

"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl."

you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-

"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl.

"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds.

your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer.

there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear.

when you come to, he's still ravaging your body.

you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you.

"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you."

he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name.

he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it.

"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw.

yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close-

and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white.

you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.

you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you."

you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him.

a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl."

you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat.

he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone.

but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted.

you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it.

so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it.

(you hate him. he hates you.)

and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you.

when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job.

(what a cocky asshole.)

it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway.

. part three .

requests open

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