#will anyone even read this thing all the way through or will i just appear mentally ill

[babe-a-yaga]

What was done to Isseya is one of my personal biggest upsets with this game. I loved her in Last Flight. She's a genuinely interesting, complex character, and given the themes of mistakes and regret present through Veilguard, it makes TOTAL sense for her to make an appearance! What makes no sense at all is for her to be reduced to a two dimensional villain with no clear motivation who's just...doing exactly the thing she fucked up in life? Except worse? I'm gonna summarize the events of last flight for the folks who haven't read it;

The first griffin Isseya put through the joining was already blighted in battle, and dying from it. Quickly. Griffins are extra sensitive to the Blight and any attempts made to join them resulted in the animals going berserk and tearing themselves, and anyone else in range, to pieces to get away from what was now in their veins.

In a well meaning, but misguided effort to save one of the animals she loved, she used blood magic to alter the griffon's mind, to convince it the Blight in it's system was just a regular cold, and it didn't need to fight it, then put it through the joining.

It worked, but it changed the griffon. Made it stronger, fight harder. More difficult to handle. The griffon ultimately went out in a spectacular blaze of glory, and people didn't know what she did, just that she did SOMETHING, and that griffon did ten griffons worth of damage on it's way out.

The fourth blight was far worse, far longer than any of the blights we have witnessed first hand. I think it lasted like 15 years? And it was going badly for Thedas. They ordered Isseya to do what she had done to the first griffon again as a last ditch to stand a chance at I *think* Starkhaven (it's been a little bit since I read last flight, so I'm sketchy on dates and what battles were fought specifically when). She hated doing this, but it was orders, and it was exploit this handful of griffons or watch the world die. She's a warden, she signed up to stop the blight at any cost. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.

By the time her brother Garahel slays Andoral, she's had to blight a number of griffons, and the constant blood magic use has massively accelerated the blight in her own body. Her brother garahel is this golden haired pretty boy beloved by everyone who looks upon him, and Isseya looks so much like a ghoul at this point people are uncomfortable being in the same room as her. Even though this is completely due to her service to the wardens.

Then, the remaining joined griffons start going mad. And then it starts to spread to the other, non-joined griffons. In using blood magic to convince the griffons the blight was just a disease, she had caused it to become one. A contagious one.

It's one of the most interesting examples of how dangerous blood magic actually is we ever see. We're just told over and over "blood magic bad, slippery slope to killing people. Bad. Even if you use your own." And we never really see explicitly why it's an inherently dangerous form of magic until this.

Back to Isseya though. Garahel's lover's Griffon had a clutch of eggs sired by Garahel's Crookytail. Isseya, knowing there was no stopping what was now in motion with the griffons, set out to do her one last act of penance. She took, and purified those eggs, hid them in a ward that kept them in stasis, so that they might only hatch once the griffons were gone, and this disease had died with them, so they might have a chance. And then she hid the clues to their location, and begged that whoever find them not let them be used by the wardens again.

And then she went on her calling.

These are not the actions of a villain. Isseya EMBODIES the warden principal of sacrifice. But it isn't glorious battle rewarded by a quick death alongside an archdemon for her. It's death by inches, by blight, knowingly and willingly accelerated in her own body to stop it from consuming the world. Sacrificing her ideals, the animals she loves, her brother, Garahel. Isseya gives it all for the wardens, to end the blight, and is not thanked for it or remembered kindly.

And she did everything she could to seed the slightest bit of hope, that both in spite of her and because of her, griffons might return to the world, as free creatures.

Her Veilguard arc feels like really egregious character assassination, and I wish she had been given an ounce of the sympathy that other characters had been given. It made sense for her to be here, thematically, mistakes and regret, and good intentions still leading to bad ends, but she deserved the same opportunity for forgiveness and/or redemption that Solas, Mythal, Cyrian, even Illario got.

Isseya was done dirty by Veilguard.

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Welp, I did a thing 👀

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio VIdal

Word Count: 4,572

I´m also sharing the AO3 link for anyone who prefers to read on there ❤

Agatha blew a rogue strand of hair from her face and wiped her brow. Even with all the magic in the world she was still doomed to a lifetime of digging up her own graves whenever the situation called for it. Which, unfortunately, it did. When the news hit her that a particularly powerful Witch had just recently “bit the dust”, and happened to take a very enticing talisman along with her - a talisman that Agatha had every intention of acquiring - she knew exactly what needed to be done.

“God, Cynthia, could they have buried your ass any deeper?”

Agatha was already in a foul mood as it was, and the ripening smell of decay and wet earth was doing very little to better it. Still, she did her best to ignore it and stay focused on the task at hand.

“Desecrating the dead, are we now, Aggs?”

Agatha stopped short, scowling at the infuriating nickname before peering up from the half dug grave.

“Oh, jesus fuck, what are you doing here?” She asked. The air outside suddenly felt iced over - almost cold enough to see her breath. Agatha glowered at the last woman in the universe she currently wanted to see.

“Heh, could ask you the same thing.” Rio replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Agatha snorted before going back to her digging. “Well that, sweetcheeks, is none of your damn business.”

“Oh, come on, Aggie. Give me the deets.”

The dark haired woman wiggled her eyebrows at Agatha, an act that both infuriated her and also made her laugh. It was one of the things she hated most about Rio. Just how easy it was for her to break through her walls - to bring down her defenses. It might even be the thing she liked least about her ex lover. Even more than the fact that the love of her life was the literal personification of Death.

“And what's in it for me?” Agatha asked, peaking over her shoulder.

“Anything you want.” Rio teased.

The witch felt her whole body tense at the simple implications behind the reaper’s words, as well as her teasing tone. They were enough to bring an unwanted dusting of heat to Agatha’s cheeks. She cleared her throat and silently went back to digging. Rio only rolled her eyes and leaned back against the nearest tombstone, a black lollipop suddenly appearing between two fingers.

“So, how long is this gonna take? I don't have all night, you know.”

“Good. Then that means you can GO.”

The dark haired woman chuckled, she really never could get enough of riling her past lover up. In fact, there were days that she absolutely thrived off it. It fed her, you could say. Mind, body, and soul.

“Oh, now we both know you don't really want that, sweetheart.”

Agatha growled in frustration before slowing her digging down to a painfully tedious pace, her gaze practically shooting daggers in Rio’s direction, even with the smirk that now played at her lips.

“Looks like you're gonna be standing there looking pretty for a while, then.”

Rio pulled the lollipop from her mouth and grinned.

“You think I'm pretty?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Agatha could feel her temper rising. Both from Rio’s constant nagging and the persistent freeze that was seeping into her bones. She wanted nothing more than to no longer be cold and digging out dirt from inside a hole. Unfortunately for her, though, this amulet was far too important - way more important than anything else in her life - so giving up and going home to her warm bed was simply not an option.

“Come on, Agatha, this is borinnng.”

“Well, lucky for you, you don't have to be here. This has nothing to do with you, Rio.”

Rio snorted. “Ah, this has everything to do with me. You're literally in a graveyard, digging up the recently deceased corpse of a world renowned witch-”

“Oh, Cynthia was a twat!”

Rio covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Twat or not, Aggs. You know I'm right.”

Agatha shook her head and gritted her teeth.

“You’re welcome to get your ass in here, then, and help me. Otherwise, shut it.”

Rio popped the lollipop back into her mouth and gave it a swirl before answering.

“Nah, I think I rather prefer the view from out here.”

The reaper gave her a wink before Agatha disgruntingly went back to her digging. A light fog had begun to settle in over the graveyard, bringing in an even cold chill with it, Agatha couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled across her shoulders as she stuck her shovel deep into the moist dirt, reminding herself to collect a small vial of it later to take home. A couple more shovel fulls and the smell of fresh decay became more distinct, almost overwhelming, Agatha was certain she was finally nearly there. And the sound of metal striking something firm only confirmed her suspicions.

“Aha! Finally, you old witch.”

“Aren’t you like, a hundred years older than her?” Rio laughed.

“Yes, but I make it look good, darling.” Agatha replied, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder with a satisfied grin. “Now, let’s crack this baby open.”

The witch rubbed her gloved hands together excitedly before kneeling down, though, the smile on her face quickly faded, replaced by a frown.

“What’s up?”

“It’s stone.”

“Stoned?”

“NO, Rio, her coffin. It’s made from fucking stone.”

Agatha knelt down and began frantically wiping dirt from the top of the stone casket.

“AND it has a fucking protection spell engraved into it.” She added, clenching her fists. “Fuck!”

“Can’t you just.. blast it open?”

“Not without potentially damaging it.”

“... without potentially damaging what?”

“Ah, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Agatha quickly added, standing to straighten out her jacket before holding out a single gloved hand. “Now, help me out of here, will you? I need to find something to get this open with.”

“What’s in it for me?” Rio asked with a smirk.

The witch silently placed her shovel against the dirt and gave her ex lover a look.

“Just help me, before I-!”

Agatha felt the cold hand of Death clasp firmly onto hers and pull her from the deep grave, tugging with such force that she fell immediately forward. Right onto Rio. Their bodies completely flush together.

“Oh, whoops. Seems we have found ourselves in a rather.. complicated position.”

Rio batted her eyelashes in faux innocence, making Agatha snort.

“Mh.. and completely by accident, I’m sure.”

“Of course. You know me. I’d never.. fuck ..with the natural order of things.”

Agatha only shook her head before starting to lift herself up.

“Wait.”

Rio’s hand coming to rest firmly on her forearm brought the witch's gaze directly down at her. Her eyes as dark as obsidian, shimmering with moonlight from above and a measure of hope. Agatha’s breath shuddered, a small bite to her bottom lip as she looked down at her once lover - at her heart. She paused.

“Rio…”

In a tone that seemed far too soft for such a great and terrible witch, Agatha Harkness could barely breathe out the woman's name. She could barely stand to think of it. She closed her eyes before going to move again, but Rio grabbed her arm just the same. This time pulling her closer forward with near desperation.

“Agatha. Please.”

Even with the thick emotions that were swiftly building inside of her, Agatha could never pass up the chance to tease her past lover.

“Begging already, Reap? Someone’s losing her touch.”

The reaper's dark eyes grew wide at her old nickname, a slight quiver to her bottom lip. Agatha took off her gloves and placed two fingers around Rio’s jaw and pulled her close.

“You know you're my favorite poison, right?”

Whatever words were set to come out of Rio’s mouth next were consumed by a deep kiss. A kiss of longing and regret. Of passion and pain. A kiss that was felt in every universe, and in every timeline of their love. It washed over them in a warmth, languishing as their tongues danced and their souls devoured. Rio’s hands hungry, wandering over as much of Agatha’s body as they could until the witch grabbed them and pinned them over her head. Rio squirmed beneath her, whining slightly.

“And here now I thought you were going to behave.” Agatha whispered, breaking the kiss.

“Oh, we both know you like it best when I put up a little fight, darling.” Rio replied as she smirked up at her, her arms now struggling to get out of her past lover’s grasp. Agatha only chuckled before forcing Rio’s arms back down over her head and into the cold, wet grass. A soft incantation whispered into the night quickly binding the reaper’s hands in a wisp of bright purple.

“Sorry, Reap. This time, I’m in control.”

Rio pressed her hips firmly up into Agatha, forcing pressure against the witch’s core and making her moan.

“You sure about that?” She quipped back with a grin.

“Fuck you.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

Agatha placed her hand around the base of Rio’s neck - a slight maniacal look on the witch’s face as she applied pressure. The reaper gasped at the familiar touch before leaning into it, her hand coming unbound to hold Agatha’s wrist. A smirk playing at her lips.

Agatha scowled. She had always been annoyed at just how ineffective her powers were on Rio, but she guessed they'd have to be to be able to withstand loving someone like her.

“You're not playing fair, Reap.” She said, shaking her head.

“Aren't I, though?”

Rio gave Agatha a wink, an all too wide grin on her face as she placed both of her hands on Agatha’s biceps and flipped the two of them over with ease. Waves of dark hair falling forward and eyes as crisp as night staring down at the witch as she found herself suddenly on her back. She growled in frustration, but Rio knew how much it turned her on. The fighting, the struggle, the battle for dominance. Even though Agatha was usually always the one to come out on top, the reaper was more than happy to make her work for it a little first.

“Now who's in control? Huh? Sweetheart?”

Agatha bucked her hips, forcing her thigh across Rio’s core. A slight gasp followed by a needy moan slipped from the woman’s mouth, warming the space between them. Agatha looked up at her, smiling smugly - a single kiss blown in Rio’s direction before a flash of bright purple had them both on their feet.

“You were saying?”

Rio opened her mouth to speak, though her attempts to quip back were quickly stifled by the abrupt feeling of being flown through the air, cradles within her lover’s arms. Her back forced against the cold bark of the nearest tree. She moved slowly to straighten out her hair and shirt, clearing her throat.

“Oh, nooo. It seems you have me right where you want me, Agatha.”

Agatha leaned in, her warm breath skating over Rio's ear.

“Or maybe, I have you exactly where you want to be. Rio.”

Rio smirked, leaning even further back into the tree to elongate her neck. The bare branches above her rustling at Death’s touch.

“Maybe-”

And just like that, her words were swallowed. Replaced by moans and whimpers that only the rush of Agatha’s lips on hers could ensue. That only the firm but gentle touch of her heart’s caress could coax. The subtle dance of Agatha’s tongue over here, the utter need of it. As the witch’s hands roamed freely over her body like it was her own. As if she owned it physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

“Don’t make me.. beg.” She whimpered between heated kisses.

And she did.

Death was well aware that she would never love another. That Agatha was one in a million. Cut from stone and rock and stardust. Rio leaned into her touch even more, desperate to feel her everywhere. Desperate to have her inside of her.

“Aw, but why? Sounds so pretty coming from that mouth of yours.”

The witch’s hands and fingers danced over her like an ill forgotten melody. A dance macabre that waltzed over every part of her except where she needed it most. The desire inside of her being built higher and higher, bringing with it the all too familiar scent of life.

“See how beautiful it is when you're like this? How am I to just give in? ”

Agatha peered up at the tree Rio was pinned against, watching as new life began to breathe within it. As a swirl of green encased them both and the smallest of leaves started to blossom.

“Agatha… please...”

“Mmmh.”

Agatha hummed in the reaper’s ear before nipping at it, her tongue circling the outer shell of her ear. A trail of kisses spattering down Rio’s neck as even more leaves began to bloom. The cemetery around them a stark reminder of the frigid winter’s breath of the night, with all the other trees otherwise dead and barren. It was no secret to Agatha that Rio could breathe life into the darkest of areas, it was something her heart knew all too well.

“My love, pleas-.”

Whether by pure desire alone or the absolute need to never hear those words drip from Rio's tongue ever again, Agatha slid her hand deep into her pants. A mere second pause before her fingers were eagerly slipped inside of her. First one, then another. Rio gasped.

“Don’t.” Agatha replied adamantly, teasing her with a single curl of her fingers.

Rio let out a moan before pointing. “F-fine. Asshole.”

“That's more like it.” The witch smirked, pressing the dark haired woman even further into the tree, fingers curling deep inside her. Rio moaned a little louder, spurring a small patch of forget-me-nots to bloom on the branches above.

“Extra needy tonight, are we, Reap?” Agatha added, looking up at the small blue flowers.

“Fuck you.”

“Hmmm.. maybe.” Agatha replied, punctuating her words with a simple curl of her fingers. A third one slipping in. “If you behave.”

“F-fuck.”

Rio’s hitched breath only made the witch’s smirk smugger. Dark tendrils covering the reaper's face as her head fell forward.

“Uh-uh. Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Rio’s dark eyes show up, locking onto Agatha's without question. A beautiful pink hue splashed across her cheeks and the humming of life vibrating within the tree behind her. She looked beautiful like this, Agatha couldn't deny that, with the essence of life’s mortal balance pulsing inside of her. She curled her fingers again, this time a little deeper. A slight arch to Rio's back and the widening of her hips was all the witch needed to fuel her on further.

“That's it. That's my good Reap.”

Rio whimpered, her breath hitched. Eyelashes fluttering as Agatha pumped her fingers in and out very slowly - intently - giving her just enough to build her pleasure at an almost unbearable pace. Rio was wet. Dripping. With the measure of her arousal trickling down Agatha’s wrist and soaking her thin fabric that encased it.

“Agatha-”

“Shhh.”

The witch placed a single finger over Rio’s lips before kissing them, swallowing whatever pleas for more she had. The momentum of her fingers gradually picking up as warm tongues dance over each other. Rio's hand clenched into Agatha’s shirt, desperate to have her closer, to feel her warmth. The tree behind them beginning to brim with life, with more and more leaves sprouting as Rio’s pleasure was built higher and higher.

If there was anything that Agatha knew how to do - and do it well - was to coax that deep hidden fire inside of her past lover. To spark vitality within the cold hands of Death and build it anew. With each sweep of her tongue, every pump of her fingers, as she thrusted them deeper into Rio’s dripping core and forced her ecstasy to unbridled lengths. It was insistent - unrelenting. Like a wildfire that threatened to take over and burn down everything in its path.

Rio widened her legs further - eagerly - frantic to feel as much as Agatha inside of her as she could. A loud moan that seemed into the witch’s lips as Agatha slipped a fourth finger inside of her, stretching her with expertise. The pleasured heat was enough to will a warm arousal across her body. It was enough to have her legs trembling and her back arched almost completely off the tree. A tree that was now vibrant with life, breathing with color amongst a wintery backdrop of death.

Agatha only chuckled and sped up her fingers. In and out. Faster and faster. Grinning with satisfaction as Rio’s walls began to tremor around her hand.

“Just look at the all-powerful Death. All needy for me. Dying to come.”

Rio cursed under her breath as Agatha laughed at her own joke, her hips beginning to buck. Her normally fair skin covered in a deep flush as her fingernails dug into Agatha’s arm. The fire that now encompassed her body was relentless - unyielding - washing over her in a prickling heat that moved from the top of her and ended at her toes. As a final move Agatha circled her thumb over Rio’s clit, matching it with a thrust and made her whole body convulse. Flowers now blooming all around her, a shimmer of green sparking in crisp night air as Rio’s climax wholly took her over.

The last thing Agatha heard was her name screamed out through half bitten lips before Rio’s knees buckled out from under her, dropping her limp body into her ex lover’s arms.

“You alright there, Reap?” The witch asked with a smirk.

“Fuck-” Rio shuddered, the entirety of her practically steaming from the overwhelmth of energy.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Agatha chuckled, still holding the dark haired woman up against the tree. Rio took a deep breath before raising her head, but even with a dusting of pink still painting her cheeks she smirked.

“Heh. Just gave a whole new meaning to having ‘death come for you’.”

Agatha groaned at the terrible pun but Rio only grinned, her tongue circling over the inside of her cheek.

“And just how long have you been waiting to use that one?” The witch asked as she shook her head and moved back from tree, releasing her hold on Rio.

“Only a few decades.” She replied.

“Uh huh.”

Agatha laughed again, a soft crinkle to the corner of her eyes as she did. Her gaze shifted as Rio took a step forward, her dark eyes on Agatha.

“Got something on your mind, Reap?”

Another step forward.

“Maybe.”

Agatha swallowed, a subtle prickling at the back of her neck.

Another step.

“Care to share with the class then?” She asked, voice slightly more tentative than the last.

Rio took a final step forward and gave Agatha a smirk. Then dropped down to her knees in front of the witch, the grass beneath her immediately turning green with life.

“That answer your question?”

“Maybe.” Agatha replied, an all too knowing smirk curling at her lips as Rio lifted her skirt and pulled her closer. The scent of her arousal prominent, heady, with a musk that was so intoxicating Rio could all but lick her lips.

“Now who's all needy? Huh?”

Agatha scowled before attempting to pull away, but the reaper’s grasp was strong and kept the witch in place - exactly where she wanted to be.

“Nice try, but I can smell how bad you want this, sweetheart.” Rio smirked. Her fingers lightly grazing up the side of Agatha’s thigh as she inched closer to the hem of her underwear. Underwear that was promptly soaked through and begging to be ripped off.

Rio licked her lips and fell back upon her knees, allowing herself to take in the view. The amount of years that had passed since she was last gifted such a sight were long since gone and lost to ages. Even her deepest dreams had paled in comparison, when all she had was the comfort of her own hands and the dark of night to keep her company. She took a deep breath, breathing her in.

Which it was.

Quickly and without pause. Her arousal now shimmering in the cold moonlight.

“Well, don't just stare at it, Reap. Eat it.”

The dark haired woman looked up at her past lover to find a smug smirk across the woman’s face. Oh, to have sweet Death on their knees for you. To will them into submission and gaze upon their absolute beauty. Her hand came to the back of Rio’s head, long fingers coming to guide her mouth closer, legs parting a little wider still. Rio’s breath hitched as she leaned in, permitting Agatha's hand to lead her. The reaper’s arms coming to wrap firmly around Agatha's hips and ass, with the fabric of her skirt held back in place.

A soft kiss to her clit at first before allowing her tongue to circle over it, causing Agatha to gasp. She tasted just as divine as Rio remembered. Just as sweet, with the slightest hint of sweat. Salty in all the right places, delectable. Her soft folds were absolutely wet - dripping - glistening throughout the tousle of brown hair that covered them. She traced her tongue up the slit of her and moaned, feeling Agatha’s desire all over her mouth and chin as the witch pulled her in even closer.

“Mmm-” Agatha moaned, “Rio-”

The intoxicating sound of Death’s name falling from Agatha's lips had her almost at a frenzy. Her fingernails digging into Agatha’s backside as she elongated her tongue deeply into her core. Her mouth warm - inviting - stroking that burning fire inside of Agatha higher and higher.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby.”

Long fingers tangled into a mess of dark hair, hips grinding upwards. The witch's needy moans ringing out into the night like a ballad of lust. Of need. Of the absolute desire to have no one else but Rio.

“Don't.. don't stop.”

But Death.

But life.

The humming of it vibrating within her as she rode the reaper’s face.

As if Rio had any intentions to do so, in fact she only persisted. Mercilessly and with fervor. As her tongue alternated between thrusting deep inside Agatha's core and circling over her clit. Deep, long licks up and down her opening, subtle sucks across her clit. Death showed no mercy as she lapped up the witch’s essence.

A tiny buck to Agatha’s hips and a clench to her walls and Rio pulled her even closer, forcing the length of her tongue as deep inside of her as she could go.

“F-uck-”

Agatha’s body jerked forward as her hold on Rio's hair tightened. Her hips now frantic - desperate - grinding into the woman’s face with absolute need. Rio flattened her tongue against Agatha's clit and rocked her head to the movement with the witch's hips. A few long strokes of her tongue and Agatha screamed out, her body suddenly overcome with a prickling heat. It was feverish. All enveloping. With her eyes whitened over in fireworks and her whole body convulsing.

The orgasm that took her over was violent in nature. It was raw and unhindered. It stole the stars straight from the night sky and injected them directly into Agatha’s very being. Her legs trembled while Rio held her close, her tongue only stopping once the last drop of Agatha’s arousal finally dripped into her mouth.

“Mmmm.” The reaper hummed, “Someone needed that.”

Even with the waves of aftershock still rolling throughout her body, Agatha's hand came firmly around Rio's throat as she pulled the dark haired woman to her feet. The look of surprise on Rio's face was quickly replaced with softness as Agatha’s lips pressed warmly into hers. Kissing her as if she were the last woman on Earth. The only woman. And to Agatha, she was. Their bodies a tangled mess, kissing each other with such ferocity that the whole world around them threatened to break. And when their lips finally parted, with the witch’s scent now adorning both of their faces, Agatha rested her forehead against Rio’s and sighed.

“Sometimes I wish it could always be like this.” She whispered.

“It can-”

Agatha placed a single finger against the reaper's lips and shook her head, the glisten of unspent tears in her eyes.

“You know it can't.”

“We could try.”

“We have.”

Rio sighed and leaned back into her past lover’s arms, head heavy. She knew Agatha was right. That these rare moments were like passing galaxies in the universe of life, but it still broke what little heart she had left to admit it. She sniffled once before clearing her throat, hugging the witch a final time before completely pulling back.

“So, uh.. what was so important that you had to resort to grave robbery again?” She asked, straightening out her clothes and hair as she wiped away a few tears of her own.

Agatha snorted and lowered her skirt. “It's not that important.”

“Bullshit. Just tell me.”

The witch bit her bottom lip in consideration before shrugging.

“A talisman. One that Cynthia coveted her entire life.”

“Okay. And what does this talisman do?”

Agatha’s gaze shifted around the quiet cemetery, the promise of dusk now painting the skyline. Her fingers fidgeted, knowing she had no other options than to tell her. She exhaled.

“Spectral reawakening.”

Rio’s dark eyes studied for her a minute, her finger coming to tap at her chin.

“I see.”

“It won't upset your precious balance of life, if that's what you're worried about.” The witch scoffed. “Only grants a day with the spectral form of a.. lost loved one.”

Rio knew immediately who Agatha intended to use the talisman on, and again, her heart ached.

“And you're planning to bring back Nicky, I presume?”

Agatha only nodded, her eyes growing desperate.

“I need to see him, Rio. I need to tell him-” She took a deep breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I need him to know how sorry I am.”

Rio knew all too well the grief that Agatha had felt over losing their son. And she knew she was partly to blame. Even if she gave the two as much time as she possibly could, she still couldn't help but feel responsible. She swallowed deep before nodding.

“Alright, then.” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Let's go get you that talisman.”

“Wait, what-?”

Before Agatha could even finish Rio was walking back over to the dug up grave, the slick marble casket peeking out from underneath the dirt. She looked back and gave Agatha a single wink before turning back around. With a simple blast of green and black magic the casket cracked open, the scent of death becoming ever more prevalent in the air.

Agatha came to stand beside her past lover, eyes wide.

“Rio.. what? Why?”

The dark haired woman turned and took the witch’s hand in hers.

“Just tell Nicky I said hello, yeah?”

Those were the last words she uttered before Death disappeared into the night, leaving Agatha with nothing but a cold graveyard to comfort her and the everlasting gift of getting to see her beloved Nicky again.

[kathlare]

echoes of sacrifice

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After a frustrating Hungarian Grand Prix, where Lando sacrificed his own race to help his teammate Oscar, he struggles with the feelings of being overlooked by his team. Amidst his frustration, he turns to Amelie for comfort, where she offers emotional support and helps him find clarity.

Wordcount: 1.9 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

July 21st, 2024 - Mogyoród, Hungary

Lando’s fingers gripped the steering wheel as he pulled into the pit lane, his eyes burning with unshed frustration. The Hungarian Grand Prix was over, and it was supposed to be a day to celebrate. Pole position. P2 finish. He had given it his all, but the race had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He took a deep breath as he got out of the car, trying to look composed for the cameras, but the forced smile didn’t reach his eyes. He had done everything he could, yet it felt like the team had thrown him under the bus for Oscar. The orders had been clear: "Let Oscar through."

He had done it. He had complied, even though every inch of him had screamed to hold his ground. It wasn’t just about the race; it was about the championship. But none of that seemed to matter to McLaren. They were celebrating Oscar’s first win, and Lando, despite being second, felt like he didn’t even matter.

The debrief in the garage felt like a punch to the gut. The team praised Oscar’s performance, while Lando sat there, biting his tongue, his jaw clenched tight. Every word that came out of the team principal’s mouth only made his blood boil further. Oscar had taken the win, and McLaren was patting him on the back, while Lando’s sacrifice seemed forgotten.

—Good job, Oscar,— Andrea said, turning his attention to the young driver. —Great strategy today.—

Lando stared ahead, pretending to listen, but inside, he was seething. He had done what was asked of him. He had let Oscar pass without putting up a fight, even though he knew it would cost him. His own teammate, the one he’d worked so hard to help get up to speed, had now taken the win from him.

—And Lando,— Andrea continued, —good work holding second. That was a tough call in the end.—

Lando’s heart pounded in his chest. "Tough call" was an understatement. It was a slap in the face. The whole thing had been a mess. They were treating him like a second-class citizen, and all he was doing was trying to stay in the fight for the championship.

When he finally left the debrief, he was a mess. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it as he stormed toward his driver’s room. He didn’t want to deal with anyone right now, least of all his team.

The moment he entered the room, he collapsed into the chair, his head falling into his hands. His heart still raced, and his mind was a whirlwind of anger and frustration. He had sacrificed everything for this team, and they still didn’t care.

He finally pulled out his phone and saw the endless string of texts from Amelie.

Ames💛: I saw the race, you were giving it your all out there, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Ames💛: Are you ok? I saw what happened with the team, and I’m so mad for you. You deserve so much better than that. Ames💛: I’m here for you, babe. Always. Just let me know what you need.

But the last one caught his eye.

Ames💛: Seriously, though, the way they treated you today was bullshit. You’re the one keeping them in this fight, not anyone else. Don’t let them fuck you over like this again. You deserve to be treated better than this, Lando. I know you’re pissed, and you should be. But don’t let it eat you alive. You’ve still got this, and I believe in you. But don’t shut me out.

Lando’s chest tightened as he read the words. Amelie always knew how to reach him, even when he didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. He hadn’t responded yet, too angry to even form a proper reply.

He wiped his face with his hands and, without thinking, hit the FaceTime button.

Amelie’s face appeared on the screen almost instantly, her eyes softening when she saw the look on Lando’s face.

—Hey,— she said, her voice gentle, almost too gentle for the fury that Lando was feeling. —What’s going on? You look... not great.—

Lando didn’t speak for a moment. Instead, he took in a deep breath, trying to hold it together, but the tears were already starting to well up. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop them.

—I’m so fucking pissed, Ames,— he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. —I’m so angry. I gave it everything, and they don’t give a fuck. They just let Oscar pass like it was nothing, and it was like I didn’t even matter. Like... it’s always ‘Oscar this,’ ‘Oscar that,’ and they don’t even care that I’m still fighting for the title, for this team. I’ve been fighting, and they keep putting me second.—

Amelie’s face softened even more, her eyes filled with sympathy. —Lando…— She reached out and touched the screen, as though trying to reach through the phone. —You are so much more than this team gives you credit for. I see what they don’t see. You’re a fucking fighter, and you’re giving it your all, but you’re not a fucking second driver. You’re so much better than that.—

Lando wiped his face, sniffling, his anger mixing with the tears. —I just want them to see me. To see that I’m still in this, that I’m still a contender. But it’s like they don’t care. They don’t even fucking care that I’m second in the championship right now, that I’m keeping us in the fight.—

—They’re idiots for not seeing that,— Amelie said firmly, her voice hard with conviction. —You’ve been putting in the work, and you’ve been giving it your all. They might not appreciate it, but I do. I see you. And I’m so fucking proud of you, Lando. You’ve got to remember that, even when they don’t.—

Lando sniffled again, wiping his nose, but this time, a small, shaky laugh escaped him. —I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be crying. I just... I can’t help it. I’m so fucking mad, Ames.—

—I know, baby,— she whispered softly, her voice steady and calm. —You have every right to be. But listen to me, alright? You are going to be just fine. You are going to come out of this, and when you do, you’re going to be stronger than ever. You just need to take a breath and remember who the fuck you are. You’re Lando fucking Norris. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone except yourself.—

Lando let out a shaky breath, his heart starting to calm a little at her words. —I don’t want to let this get to me, but it’s hard.—

—I know,— Amelie said softly. —But you can’t let it eat you alive. You’ve still got a whole season ahead of you, and I know you can do it. You’re not alone in this, Lando. You’ve got me, you’ve got Max, you’ve got everyone who believes in you. And fuck what the team does or doesn’t do. You’ve got this.—

Lando let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes. He stared at her for a long moment, her face a comforting presence. —Thank you,— he whispered, his voice raw. —I needed this.—

—Always,— she replied, her voice warm. —I’ll be here whenever you need me. I believe in you.—

Lando gave a small, shaky smile, feeling a little lighter. —I love you, Ames.—

—I love you too, Lando. Now go get some rest, okay? You’ve earned it.—

Lando nodded, the anger and tears slowly fading away as he felt the support from Amelie wash over him. He wasn’t alone in this, not really. And that made all the difference.

--------------

liked by mclaren, schecoperez, and others

landonorris: P1 P2 yesterday, P1 P2 today. Congrats on the win Oscar. I know we’ve got plenty more to come

View all 932 comments

ameliedayman: Congrats baby! No matter what place, I’ll always be cheering for you. 😘🏁 → landonorris: @ameliedayman You know it’s always for you, love. 💖🔥

ameliedayman: You better stop flexing, I’m already impressed 😜🔥 → landonorris: @ameliedayman Can’t help it, love, I was born to win 🏆💪

f1gossiper69: I’m calling it now—next stop: a chaotic afterparty. 💃

pitstoppower: Yeah, we get it, you’re fast. Can you chill now? 🙄

lnfour: 👏👏👏👏

mclaren: 🧡

landofan123: The dynamic duo back at it again! Lando and Oscar, too hot to handle 🔥🔥

f1haterz: Don’t get too cocky, you’re still behind Max. 😂 → landofan88: @f1haterz Someone's salty... Max ain’t the only one winning this season. 😉

oscarfan99: Lando’s just there for the team play.

landofanatic101: P1 and P2 all weekend! Too good, Lando! 🔥💪

sogooditsscary: Y’all keep hyping him up for P2 like it’s something big. 💀 → f1loverr: @sogooditsscary Come back when you’ve finished top 3 at a Grand Prix. 💅

piastrifam123: Oscar > Lando, just saying. 🤭 → f1_fansunite: @piastrifam123 Keep that same energy next race! 🏁

[raticalshoez]

Man, there is just something so fascinating to me about the Boat Boys because I think their relationship has always been akin to like...the rockiest of waters (pun intended). I've just been thinking so much about it...

In 3rd Life, funnily enough, one of their first interactions was just them riding a boat together. In Last Life, Joel ended Etho's series. Even before being soulbonded they've had that sort of "me and the bestie/can't stand his fakeass" dynamic.

If anything was evident in Double Life, it's that they had fun together. It's safe to say they probably weren't the most loyal to one another, mainly due to Etho and his Bdubs withdrawal, but it would be wrong to say that they didn't enjoy each other's company. They both have the urge to cause chaos, but one's more upfront about it and the other is more subtle. They complimented each other and balanced out the other, and when the time came around, they died together poetically.

Limited Life was definitely...a season for Joel and Etho interactions. This season was filled with animosity, and constant jabs, and bitter callbacks to a past life. Boat Boys this season were just killing or insulting each other left and right, not finding a moment of comfort or piece around each other.

Then there's Secret Life. This one in particular makes me kind of insane because there's both the animosity and bite to their words when they're interacting with one another, but there was also sincerity. For a brief moment, these two were able to express genuine care that they still had for one another, and that's just crazy to me. Both Joel and Etho's characters don't know sincerity and always deal more mushy, heartfelt things awkwardly, so this was CRAZY for me. And it always hits harder for me because I've always just imagined Joel and Etho's relationship to just be a very strong, platonic bond. They have people who they are definitely closer to; Joel has people like Lizzie, Grian and Jimmy, and Etho has people like Bdubs, Cleo, and Tango. Those are people that they tend to naturally gravitate towards, but the two of them will always end up crossing paths. And well, that's what being soulmates is really about, right? It's not really about romance; it's about being bound to find this particular person in every universe, no matter what.

Out of all the people on the server, I never expected it to be them. Etho and Joel, the two guys who never seemed to be able to let go of their soul bond when everyone else had moved on to some capacity.

It's like how Martyn never left winter. It's like how Jimmy and Tango will always be each others' ranchers even though they no longer reside at the ranch. It's like how Scar and Grian know monopolies better than anyone. Cleo will always be caught up on BigB's betrayal and Lizzie will remain bitter about Cleo's destructive tendencies towards her home. Impulse will never let go of Bdubs' betrayal. It's the way Scott seems somewhat attached to literally ALL of his exes. The lifers just cannot be normal about each other and every new season adds to their insanity regarding one another.

If you've reached the end of this, I commend you. I'm not adding anything new to this conversation, I'm just yapping and blabbling about the Minecraft series that changed my life and altered my brain chemistry. These worms eat at my neurons everyday and I just HAVE to tell somebody, ANYBODY about my insanity.

[screampied]

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

[icewindandboringhorror]

Other Misc. Rambling Thoughts on the topic:

(~ !!!!!!!!! if you're just reblogging this post for the Poll section, please reblog the original post without this addition* lol. ~)

(*not that there's anything super personal or weird about the addition, just that it's meant to be kind of casual Side Commentary, not really part of the Main Point Of The Poll, so it would feel kind of weird for it to be emphasized by being included in reblogs unless the reblogs were explicitly about the side commentary, etc..... if that makes sense.. ANYWAY!)

It's neat to read the written descriptions that people are mentioning in the tags, since it's almost like I can see or conceptualize the idea as well, but it's just.. I'm not SEEING it.

Like for example: I can imagine a vase, it's a muted mint green and slightly translucent, elaborate golden birds sprawled down the side in streaks of thin rough watery paint, the base material shimmers gently in the light, there's a small chip where it's cracked on the handle, etc, etc. .. But as I'm thinking about this I see literally nothing.

It seems like perhaps some people can visualize an object first, and THEN describe what they see. But I sort of work backwards. I am building the object in my mind, I can never see it, but it's a collection of concepts. Rather than visualizing all details as a whole at once, I am adding each detail one by one, building onto the IDEA of the thing.

The vase doesn't have a crack on the handle because I just automatically visualized a vase with a crack. It was more that I cognitively understand the concept of a vase, what they tend to be made out of, how they tend to look and feel, the properties they have. So based purely on that knowledge, I can imagine "a chip is something that a vase could have, it would look this way and behave this way" - more like... I'm constructing a bullet point Fact List about the object rather than seeing it.

So if you tell me to imagine an object, I can, in a way, imagine that object in great detail, but it's just.. I'm not SEEING those details, more just knowing it's qualities in a purely conceptual way. Sometimes in the tags when people are like "yeah I can see the skin of the apple, texture, little dots on the surface" it's like… I can imagine that too, I can know it's there, but just with no visual attached.

I guess rather than SEEING something and going ''ah. I know what this looks like because I have seen it''. I more just skip that visual step entirely and go ''I know what this looks like, I just randomly have a list of information about the concept in my mind.'' etc. Maybe similar to how sometimes in dreams, even though a house may look completely different and be in an entirely fake 'dreamlike' environment, you just somehow KNOW intuitively that it's meant to be your childhood home or something. Even when it looks nothing like it in reality. There's a built-in base knowledge of the properties or information of some things within a dreaming mind, etc.

--

This also makes me wonder about like.. how storytelling and myth is so important to cultures all across time. Or how this could tie also into concepts of religion.. etc. etc. If so many people really can kind of conjure these vivid images in their mind, then maybe that's part of why certain things are so meaningful to them? Like a "religious experience" being something you can actually really SEE/feel/lingering with you in your head, rather than just abstract words on a page, detached purely theoretical ideas, etc... hmmm

.

Plus also just for average emotional stuff too, even outside of broader cultural conceptual attachments..

Like, I don't think there's a direct 1 to 1 link (obviously not all people with mental illnesses that significantly reduce their emotional or expressive capacity also MUST have aphantasia or vice versa), but it's interesting as someone who DOES also have a much more lessened emotional range/pretty flat affect/etc. etc. to think like.. Maybe I WOULD be more emotional, in a way, if I could have these vivid experiences..?

Perhaps memories would hold deeper significance if they could really stay with me vividly. Or storytelling would evoke more of a deep emotional reaction to me if I could really picture and feel the things that are going on. If things were more TANGIBLE in my brain, rather than always merely conceptual highly abstracted ideas.

Kind of like, it's probably easier to get over the death of a pet or something, if after not seeing them for an hour you already don't remember what they looked like (beyond just a vague fact list of traits), and you have no vivid memories or mental reminders of them (beyond just factual information stores). COGNTIVIELY you can appreciate the idea of their absence, of course, you still miss them, but there's just no remaining visceral sensory ties. A very "out of sight, out of mind" sort of thing in terms of attachments, memories, emotions, etc. Maybe certain things are easier to "get over", when you're not having constant mental sensory reminders that occasionally rekindle your feelings about the event or etc.??

(like for example, maybe someone could remain angry about an argument longer if they could vividly replay it in their head over and over again. VS just like.. 'Yes I can factually recall the fact I had an argument, and I do have knowledge stored about what precisely was said, but any sort of sensory data such as sights/smells/feelings, etc. from the actual moment of the event are long gone and can never be conjured again in my mind." etc.)

Which again, I think lessened emotional permanence and image permanence in the mind are NOT inherently linked, can all be caused by different things for different people. And, since I can't visualize anything in my head, maybe I'm misunderstanding how it happens and the effect it may have on stuff like remembering things you miss or replaying arguments, etc. etc. But it's still a little interesting to think about, if they could influence each other to some degree.... :0c --

Lastly, It's also weird because I'm actually pretty good at estimating distance and spaces? I can quickly assemble furniture without an instruction manual, pretty easily have a concept of how much space a chair may take up in a room, how two mechanical parts might fit together - BUT, I am literally not actually visualizing anything. I cannot see 3D objects in my mind at ALL. It's like.. just based on the pure List Of Facts About Things Which I Have Observed.. I can intuitively go "oh this works like this/this is this size" just because.. I know it's that size. I don't have to see anything to know..?

But then on the other hand, I'm terrible at directions without a map (I guess because a 3d outdoor environment has WAY more complexity than like.. "Will this square fit into another square?"etc. lol ).

BUT, I also draw/sculpt/etc. entirely without references, and seem to do mostly okay at that..? Like.. I can't even remember the last time I actually used a reference or looked at anything whilst drawing. It's all muscle memory, and me just adjusting as I go until something "looks right" on paper, I never have a set image in my head (or external reference) before hand.. Hrmm....

AND.. I used to say that I had a photographic memory when I was younger, which I know NOW is not true (I always thought it was just an expression, not that people could literally see things in a photographic way). But what I was describing is, I do often associate information with imagery, just... without imagery....

Like "Oh, I know that I took my medicine earlier today because I have a distinct memory, a snapshot of a moment in time, of me rattling the pill bottle in my hands as I looked up at a stop sign while in the back seat of a car". When I say this, I can't ACTUALLY see/feel/hear a pill bottle, or vividly picture a stop sign, but it's more just a factual recall, of. Even though I don't see these things, I know they happened, the information of them happening (me hearing a sound and also looking at a stop sign at the same time) has been stored in my brain as a memory, a collection of linked facts. --

As for other senses, I cannot taste or feel anything in my head AT ALL.. wild that some people mention that. I mean, again, I can have a purely factual recall as if reading a textbook, knowing the information of 'X item typically has X texture, therefore I can imagine what it may be like to feel it' or 'X usually has this taste' etc. - but I can never actually experience those senses in any capacity in my mind alone. I would say audio is my strongest mental sense (maybe a 2.5 or 3 (if it were translated onto the above scale where 1 is most vivid and 5 is nothing)), then visual (4.5 at most, usually 5), and then taste and smell and such are just complete 5, absolutely nothing, I didn't even know people could experience taste or feeling just in their mind alone.. lol...

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[miaoua3]

Stay The Morning?

Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader

Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), one night stand, meet cute, rich ceo x normal girl, morning after, the whole encounter described through flashbacks, mentions of previous cheating

Description: after your previous boyfriend cheated on you, your friends allowed you three weeks of mopping and self loathing before they drag you out of the house and into a bar. little did you know that a certain gentleman will be there and that he will change your world for a night

Note: i went out with my friends, we jokingly went to our local perfume shop, i found cheols perfume (hermes h24), it made me ovulate….bon appetit.

Warning: barely proofread, read at your own risk lmao

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

to say that walking in on your boyfriend and his coworker shagging in your own bed after you’ve decided to come home earlier to surprise him with a warm and delicious cooked meal messed you up a bit was an understatement.

his apologies fell on deaf ears, partly because you didn’t want to hear it and partly because a sudden ringing appeared to be echoing in the shell of your ear.

overcome with rage, you packed all of his stuff in some plastic bags from previous shopping trips, all while he tried to talk to you and explain that ‘it isn’t what it looks like’.

what a bucket full of bullshit.

deciding that 5 bags worth of stuff should last him a few days, you threw them in front of your door before pushing your now ex in the hallway too.

in his boxers only.

but then, your bravery seemed to have disappeared. while your ex was trying to make excuses explain to you the situation, you haven’t let yourself feel a single emotion other than rage and betrayal.

the moment you slammed the door in your ex’s face though, you felt all the emotions suddenly hit you and you crumbled, letting the tears fall down your face.

in these situations, you always find yourself doing the same thing.

and that is call your two best friends.

in the matter of minutes they were in front of your door, with all the necessities like ice cream and tissues.

and they comforted you. for the whole nights.

and the rest of the week.

and the week following that one.

and then third week week too.

well, at least, until friday evening.

at 6pm sharp, your friend, sana, unlocked the door and kicked them with her foot, your other friend jihyo not far behind her.

only to find you on your couch, watching tv with dead eyes, a bucket of ice cream on your lap (now mostly in a watery consistency).

at the sudden outburst, you looked at the direction of your front door with shocked eyes.

sana, having had enough of your bullshit, marched up to you and pulled you up by your arm, “okay that’s it, go take a shower, we’re going out, i have had it with your bullshit. god, you stink, when was the last time you at least put on deodorant, bro? disgusting.”

you, still being in shock, had little space to let out a complaint at her rambling, until she basically pushed you in the bathroom, making you trip over your own feet, before she closed the bathroom door in your face.

after a second, she yelled “oh and shave your legs and everything else, we are getting you laid tonight!”

by the tone of her voice, you knew that you had no choice but to do as she told you. knowing her, she would make the heavens move just to have her way.

an hour later, you were dressed in a little tight cherry red dress, your makeup done by your two friends, hair perfectly done, a black leather jacket resting on your shoulders, your arms intertwined with the arms of your friends, pulling you out of your apartment and down the stairs.

something in your stomach was telling you that that night wouldn’t go as your friend had imagined it. realising this, you raised your concerns.

“guys, while i really do appreciate this, and im sure we will have so much fun, i don’t think i will be sleeping with anyone tonight. it just feels too soon and im not sure if it would be a good idea for me to do that.”

sana scoffs and replies “girl please, your heart is in your vagina, and currently it is broken thanks to the dumbass that you decided to date even when I specifically told you not to, it just needs to be a big dick that will sprinkle some of its fairy dust on it and it will be as good as new-“, she tried to continue, but jihyo decided to interrupt her by letting go of your arm and using the same hand to reach behind your back and smack sana across the back of her head, full force, making her head fly down.

“stop spewing nonsense, even if we wanted to we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. plus, if she thinks it wouldn’t be a good idea then it probably isn’t, just because it would work for you doesn’t mean it would work for her.”, jihyo defends you as she intertwines your arms again and rubs the back of your hand with her other hand.

sana just mumbles “we will see about that” in response.

after a few minutes, you reach the bar that you visit semi-regularly aka whenever the stars align and all three of you happen to have a free day on the same day.

sitting at your usual place at the bar, sana orders for all of you before you can even try to protest about how you weren’t in a mood for heavy drinks.

as jihyo and sana are talking between themselves, you look around the bar, just to people watch for a bit, see everyone that is mingling in this bar.

and then you see him.

at the other end of the bar, there sat a man so beautiful it made all of those butterflies you felt on the way to the bar roar together into a chaos.

oh.

he’s so beautiful is the only thought that could cross your mind as you observed him. short black hair neatly styled in a way that it compliments all of his features, dark and thick eyebrows pulling your attention, big and plump lips set in a gentle smile. letting your eyes travel, they end up on his arms, observing how tight the black button up looks on him due to his buff physique. your wandering eyes come to his hands that are resting on the top of the counter, one crossed while the other is playing with the glass filled with dark liquor.

seeming that you have zero self control left, you let your eyes wander back up to his face, to admire the face that you could only describe as if it were sculpted by the gods themselves.

only to find his dark eyes already watching you.

quicker than a thunder, you turn your head towards your two friends again, feeling how hot your face feels due to being caught by the perfect stranger.

you try to go back to the conversation that your friends are having, as a distraction from the most perfect man that you have ever seen in your entire life.

what you fail to notice is that the stranger’s eyes stay on you, caressing your figure with his hot gaze, stopping every few seconds on one of your features, as a way to take not of every little detail and memorise it.

after half an hour, you finish your first drink (that tasted only mildly disgusting due to amount of alcohol it had in it). but it seems that with every sip you took, your self control would lessen and your eyes would stray in the direction of mr.perfect (as you started calling him in your head).

only to snap your head right back because he would already be looking at you, gentle smile playing on the edge of his lips.

the entire time you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, excitement and nervousness. to be completely honest, you forgot how it felt to be excited to have got somebody’s whole attention on you, and to have your own attention solely focused on them.

all the butterflies you felt as you were walking to the bar seem to only duplicate with every little exchange of glances between you and mr.perfect.

just as you raised your hand to get the bartender’s attention, a deep “um, excuse me?” came from your right, making you pause your action to turn your head.

and your breath catches in your throat.

because one and only mr.perfect was standing right there, towering over you due to you sitting and him being so very tall, clad in all black, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, giving you a peak to his strong and defined collarbones, a gentle smile teasing the edges of his mouth.

and his gaze.

oh his gaze was burning you from the intensity of it, making goosebumps arise on your skin.

seeing that he got your attention, he continues with a boyish smile “i was just wondering if i could buy you your next drink? it’s just that- i saw you across the room and i thought that you were absolutely beautiful, and my mom taught me that beautiful women should never pay for their own drinks a-and im rambling aren’t i?”, he finishes with a low chuckle, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

looking at him, it would seem that a cat got ahold of your tongue because you proceed to just stare at him, both of you waiting for you to say anything.

luckily, jihyo comes to your rescue, behind your shoulder smiles at the stranger and says “she would love to!”

breaking out of the trance, you look at her shortly to see her nodding her head encouragingly, before looking at the stranger again with a blushing face “um, yes, i’d really like that”.

he smiles at you, before calling the bartender over. you tell him your order before he directly gets to work.

as your drink is being made, the stranger smiles at you and puts out his hand for a handshake (his beautifully big, veiny and manly hand, adorned by a ring on his middle finger and an expensive watch on his writs) “my name is choi seungcheol, may i ask for yours?”

blushingly, you put your hand in his and introduce yourself. making some small talk, you learn that he is currently 29 years old, and that he’s here with some friends for a friend’s birthday.

just as you were about to ask him what he does for a living, your drink gets put in front of you, breaking the flow of the conversation.

seungcheol, seeing that the only reason why approached you is done, gets up from his sit next to you, “well, your drink is here, i’ll leave you ladies alone now, thank you for allowing me to pay for your drink, enjoy the rest of your night”. he smiles gently before he starts to go back to his friends.

you weren’t lying that alcohol messed with your self control, because in the time it took him to make three steps, you were up and out of your seat, way too loudly than necessary saying “um-!”.

hearing you behind him, he turns around and to see your flustered face, questionably looking at you.

seeing that the cat is already out of the bag and that you already embarrassed yourself as it is, you continue “y-you know, you could buy me the next drink too? o-or, well, you could just- you could offer me a longer conversation instead? um, actually, i-i’d prefer that to a drink.”, you finish with almost to none dignity left, your entire face burning from embarrassment.

seungcheol, in return just smiles.

and the butterflies go wild again.

oh, no.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

waking up, you notice that your room is suspiciously bright. like, way too bright for it to be your room.

the thought makes you jump and sit up automatically, only to notice the lack of the clothes on your body, making you pull the duvet over your chest.

looking around the room, you realise that you were in somebody else’s bed.

and looking to your right, you get the answer as to whose room it is.

seungcheol is sound asleep next to you, shirtless, laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you, his lips set in a cute little pout, his back muscles moving and flexing with every exhale that escapes his mouth.

and his back. oh. my. god.

there were nail scratches all over his back, making it look as if a wild cat had attacked him. but it wasn’t a cat that attacked him, was it now? no it was your doing.

looking around the room, you realise just how much more spacious it looks in the daylight. actually, everything about his condo is big and spacious (as well as everything about him-).

noting every little detail around the room and thinking about how much everything must’ve cost. but it probably didn’t make that much of a difference to him. no.

because choi seungcheol wasn’t just anybody.

he was a ceo of…some company whose name you can’t remember because you were…occupied with something else when he was explaining it to you (read: occupied by watching the veins in his forearms move with every move of his arms that he made).

the fact that he hid that from you up until the moment you walked into his condo makes you mentally scoff at your cluelessness, because who else would wear a watch that size if not a ceo of a company?

you were willing to ignore the big watch. you were even willing to ignore the ridiculously expensive-looking audi that he drove you in to his place. even the underground garage that he drove into.

but walking directly out of the lift and into the biggest condo you have ever since with the whole wall being just one giant window? oh, no way in hell were you going to let it slide.

turning around to look at him questionably, you feel his hand that’s on your back rub slow circles, and his smile turn into a sheepish one.

“so, just a businessman huh?”, you question his previous answer with a raised brow.

in return he chuckles, “well, i am a businessman technically, i just never mentioned that i was a ceo of a company”, he answers before he toes off his dress shoes and walks in what you were sure to be a kitchen.

you follow him, slowly observing the ginormous living room that you find yourself into, before stopping in front of the big window. his condo had to be the best in the whole of seoul, because the view that you are looking at right now is enough to leave you breathless. thousands of lights from all across the seoul make it look like the night sky.

after a minute you ask him “why didn’t you tell me what you really do? there wasn’t really a reason to hide something like that so i assume that you had a bigger reason for not telling me.”, you turn your head back to be able to see him clearly.

he stops pouring you two drinks for a moment, looks upwards with furrowed eyebrows for a moment, before looking at you with and with upmost sincerity answers “you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about things like that.”, he turns his head back to the glasses in front of him before he continues “plus, i was sitting in front of the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, i much rather talk about you and get to know you than talk about my boring work.”, he chuckles as he finishes his thought.

his answer was so simple, yet it got your breath catching in your throat.

you can’t remember the last time somebody really cared about you and who wanted to get to know you, to learn about all the little things about you.

your gaze finally falls on seungcheol’s back again, and on your artwork.

you feel the heat on your cheeks worsen, the longer you look at the marks on his big and muscular back. the heat to your face isn’t the only thing that looking at his back brings to you, but the memories of last night as well.

although your eyes are focused on the view in front of you, you can feel that seungcheol was walking slowly towards you, until he was standing directly behind you. slowly, you see his hand appear in front of your face, holding a glass of water. carefully, you take it from his hand, saying a quiet “thank you” before taking a little sip of the water.

you gently put the glass on the little table holding a vase to your left, before looking in front of you again.

ever so slowly, you feel him inch closer to you, until your back is brushing his firm chest. his smell has your mind clouded-he smells so good, not too strong like most men do, but just enough to have you taking a deeper whiff of it. such a pleasant smell, it had your eyelids closing in satisfaction on their own.

ever so lightly he places his hand in your hip, his hold on it getting firmer with each slow second. at this simple touch you find yourself gasping lowly, goosebumps raising on the skin of your arms.

you can tell by the precision of his moves and how he takes his time with each action of his what kind of lover he is. the type to make you feel safe and relaxed. the type that would put your pleasure in the first place. the gentle but firm type.

the type to be the best you have ever had.

another step, and his entire front is touching your entire back. there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t touching him. you can feel his breath on the back of your head, and your own coming to a still stand in your throat.

slowly, he moves his head until it’s right there, to your right. he lets his head dip a little lower, so his nose is grazing the skin of your shoulder and ever so lightly, takes a deep breath of your smell.

he inhales deeply, at the end of it a little groan rumbling in his chest. he then lets his instincts take over-slowly, he moves his head so his nose travels across your shoulder, up your neck (where for a few milliseconds you feel his lips brush across your skin too, making you gasp quietly), across your jawline, until his lips are right by your ear.

in what must be the deepest voice you have ever heard from a man, he whispers, “tell me to stop…”, he pauses, letting go of his self control for a moment and letting his lips leave a little kiss on the edge of your jawline, before he continues “…and i will stop”.

gone were all the thoughts from your head, which is probably why you find your head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own, feeling the lack of the air in your lungs getting to your head, and breathlessly, you say “don’t stop, please”.

which seemed to be enough for him, because in the next second he’s directing your face to his own with two fingers and kissing you like he’s dying, and you are the only antidote that could save him.

his tongue massages your own in such a meticulous manner, that it made a little moan escape you. quickly, you break the kiss for the second it takes you to turn around in his hold, not even realising that he now had both of his arms wrapped around your stomach, and kissing him with what must look like desperation to anybody else.

he sucks on your top lip for a bit, before he deepens your kiss, his hand flying up to hold your jaw in place, slowly turning your head a bit to the side so he can get even deeper.

you seem to be out of your mind, because your hand-all on its own- grabs ahold of his other hand that is resting on your back, and places it on the back of your head.

seeing what you probably must’ve wanted, seungcheol takes a second to push his hand into your hair. and then he pulls on it ever so lightly.

and then you moan loudly in his mouth.

and that seems to do it for him, because he groans deeply at your moan, before he breaks a kiss harshly to grab ahold of your thighs and pick you up as if you weighed nothing.

the action got you gasping, your legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. but before you had the time to tell him to put you down and that “you were too heavy”, he’s right back, kissing you like he was starving for it-starving for you.

with ease, he turns around and starts walking down the hall. but since he’s only a man, he gets a bit carried away, having to stop and push you against the wall, his kisses now fast and almost animalistic, travelling from your mouth, across your cheek and down your throat. at one harsher kiss to your skin on the neck, you let out a louder moan, which only fuelled his desire, his kisses getting faster, harsher, his tongue touching your skin with his open mouth kisses, the hold he had on your thighs getting tighter.

you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this wet, this satisfied, this hungry for more from a kiss alone. out of the window went all of your consciousness, your thoughts, the only thing that you knew at that moment were seungcheol and that you wanted him. more than you have ever wanted anything else.

gasping while he continues to attack your neck and collarbones, you moan a simple “more”.

and who was seungcheol to deprive his lady of what she wanted?

taking ahold of his actions, he gets a better grasp on your thighs, before he pushes you two away from the wall. in five big steps, he’s in front of his bedroom door, pushing them opened harshly with his foot, carrying you inside, before letting go of one of your legs to slam the door shut, all while still kissing you.

the thoughts that were playing in your mind like a movie got you slapping your face with both hands, covering your whole face with them.

not being able to sit still anymore, you gut up and out of the bed, quickly picking up a random shirt from the chair that was by the door, and out of the room.

you find yourself a bit lost, before you see the door to your left, on which stoop a sign that said “bathroom”. quickly, you run into the room and close the door behind yourself.

breathing out a sigh of relief, you look around to see just how ridiculously expensive the bathroom must look like.

and without any disappointment, the bathroom looks like it came straight out of somebody’s pinterest board- a big white bathtub to the left, to the right what must be the biggest shower you have ever seen, a toilet to the left in front of you, and a mirror so big there wouldn’t be a wall big enough to hang it in your own apartment. the tiles of the whole bathroom were this nice shade of beige, creating a harmony with the white furniture of the room.

noticing how badly you need to relieve yourself, you do yourself before getting up to wash your hands. as you finish, you look up to see just how bad your makeup must look.

and you gasp. because your whole neck is covered in hickeys, bigger part of them looking like they are connecting, making it look like one giant purple hickey that’s wrapped around your whole neck.

you just stand there for a second, in a loss for words as to how bad it looks. if you saw this sight on anybody else, you would think that they got mauled by a bear or some wild animal of sorts.

looking at the hickeys on your body got you blushing, and even more so as you remember how they came to be.

ever so gently, seungcheol puts you down on his big and fluffy bed. putting you down seemed to be the only thing he was going to do gently, because the very next second he’s basically pouncing on you, the kiss continuing after a brief moment it took him to lay you down. you feel his tongue battle with your own, before he pulls on your bottom lip with his own lips, lightly biting it to tease you just a little bit.

his hands go from resting next to your head to caressing your body, until they reach the hem of your dress. he breaks the kiss apart, starting to ask “can i-“.

but before he can finish the sentence, you are whining in his face, glossy eyes looking up at him “take it off, please, take it off take it off, please please please-“.

your begging seems to make him lose his mind just a bit more. quickly and with no care, as if he’s just as desperate to have this tight dress off of your body, he switches his hold to the straps of your dresss, harshly pulling it down your arms and chest, over your waist and over your hips, before giving it one final pull over your legs and tossing it over his shoulder.

for a moment, he sits on his heels and just observes you. he feels his chest tightening due to lack of oxygen, his heart beating so fast he thinks it could stop any moment.

your curves would get him kneeling in front of you if he wasn’t already doing so. and the little two piece lingerie- god, help him, for he is about to sin, big time.

he wanted to look at this sight for a bit longer, to have it embedded in his mind forever, but it seems that his girl is a bit impatient, because he feels your hand harshly pulling on his shirt and feels himself falling down on you before the sound of your whining even has the time to hit the shell of his ear.

you kiss him desperately, your hands everywhere- in his hair, on the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and scratching on his back.

all while whining and moaning in his mouth.

god help cheol if he wasn’t about to cum just from the pretty sounds you were making for him.

seeing as you weren’t willing to let him go, or stop kissing him for that matter, seungcheol opts to multitask and take his shirt off while still kissing you. the moment its off, your hands seem to have a mind of their own, travelling all over his back and shoulders before straying to his front, your firm touch traveling from his stomach to his chest.

deciding that he can’t wait anymore, he pulls on your underwear harshly, making them fly over his shoulder too, before he lets his lips leave open-mouth kisses over your neck, collarbones, chest, stopping for a bit to give you nipples a little nibble over your lacy bra, over your tummy, on your hip.

before he knows it, he finds himself laying between your legs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, his gaze hot enough to burn your skin.

he gently takes your thighs in his hands, before putting them on his shoulders. before he can even utter the words, you nod your head vigorously and enthusiastically, feeling your legs shake slightly at anticipation.

and then his mouth is on you. and you gasp.

he licks one long stripe from your hole to your clit, which he proceeds to suck onto lightly, making your hips buckle. his tongue then starts to lap at it, leaving little kitten licks on your clit.

your hand instinctively fly to his beautiful luscious hair, pulling on it, trying to getting him even closer if possible.

understanding what you want, seungcheol then lowers his mouth a bit, probing and pushing at your hole, twisting his tongue when entering you in ways you couldn’t think were humanly possible, sucking on your entrance every time before his tongue enters you again.

it’s embarrassing to admit, but you can confidently say that you have never been this close to the finish this fast.

which is why you try to pull him away by your hold on his hair. but he ignores your tugging, instead lets one of his hands that’s been holding your thigh travel up and take hold of one of your hands, before intertwining your hands and letting them rest on your hip.

such a simple action but it got your heart feeling so warm, you can for sure say that nobody ever made you feel this way by a simple action such as this one.

feeling your finish approaching quickly, you try to warn him, but he just looks at you with what looked like to be completely black eyes sternly, almost as if he was saying “don’t you dare stop me”.

and who were you to do as much?

suddenly, like a big wave, you feel the euphoria hit you, you back leaving the mattress, the hold you had on his hand and his hair tightening to the point you were sure must’ve hurt him, your thighs locking, squishing his face between them, all while moaning so loudly you were sure his neighbours were about to hate you.

seungcheol just continues to lap at your hole, drinking up every little drop of your cum as if it were nectar, closing his eyes in enjoyment, groaning as he makes sure to drink up everything you were giving him.

after a minute, you start feeling a bit overstimulated, whining in protest, which was seungcheol’s cue to stop. slowly detangling himself from your legs, he slowly climbs back up before he’s kissing you, your own taste greeting you on his tongue.

seungcheol breaks the kiss apart for a moment, his eyes as dark as night as he looks you directly in the eyes, before he asks you.

“are you ready to give me more, pretty girl?”

you again cover your blushing face with your hands, peeking just a bit between your fingers to look at yourself in the mirror.

seungcheol is so perfect, in every way possible, that you weren’t sure that he was real. maybe he was just a speck of your imagination, something you made up in your mind to make yourself feel better about your love life.

your hands slowly slide down your face as the reality of the situation starts to hit you, a sour look overtaking your expression.

seungcheol was so perfect. too perfect for you to have him.

knowing that talking to him again will just add salt to the injury, that it will make you realise just how out of your league he is, you decide that sneaking off would be for the best, for the both of you. after all, this was probably just a one time thing for him.

you bend down to pick up the shirt that you took from his room to put on until you find your dress, when suddenly, you feel a sharp cramp in your thighs, making you gasp.

you knew that you two went quite hard at it last night, but you didn’t think it would make walking hard for you the next day.

shyly, you peek at your thighs to see just how irritated the skin must look like, the recollection of the encounter yet again clouding your mind.

as you kiss, you feel one of his hands reach to the side before you hear him fumble with something, breaking the kiss so you both look at him struggling to find the condom in his nightstand.

after a few seconds he finally pulls out a pack, taking one out of the bunch before he pulls back entirely, sitting on his heels.

carefully he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear just enough for his cock go be freed. and oh god, if that wasn’t the biggest one you have ever had, he was so big and thick, it made goosebumps appear on your skin in anticipation. he rips the packaging with his teeth, and rolls it on himself, all while he still keeps the eye contact going.

seungcheol then lowers himself back onto you, before he teases your folds with his fingers.

in a raspy voice he says “your pussy got me so drunk that i forgot that i need to prep you before i fuck you”, and then he pushes one of his thick fingers in your hole, your gasp so loud in your own ears that normally it would make you feel embarrassed. he then continues “wouldn’t want to hurt my pretty girl when I’m supposed to be making you feel good, hm?”, he finishes and pushes another finger on the next time he pushes back inside of you.

if you had any mental strength left, you would’ve answered him, but there was literally nothing going on in your head other than how good his fingers felt, massaging your walls, scissoring you,his tumb gently massaging your clit in slow circles, pushing and pulling his fingers in a slow but steady pace, ever so often the til of his fingers grazing your g spot, making you moan in his face.

he fingers you as if he had tons of experience with your body, like he already knew how you liked it. and he does it all while looking at your face, his forehead slowly coming down to rest on your own.

after what you felt must’ve been hours when in reality it was just a few minutes, he seemed to be satisfied, pulling his fingers out completely.

and then he pushed the very same fingers inside of his mouth, eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing at your taste, humming in satisfaction as he licks his fingers clean.

you feel yourself clench as you watch him suck on his fingers. he looked like a god as he did it- his hair now messy and fluffy thanks to you, his expression looks like he’s having the best meal of his life, his tan skin glistening with sweat, his naked chest raising as he breathes in and out.

he looked so divine, it made you go just a little bit insane. just a bit.

he opens his dark eyes again, his face turning somewhat serious. seungcheol then slowly lowers himself down again, caging your head with his forearms that come to rest next to your head, making your entire focus shift to his eyes.

without much thought, you wrap your arms around his back, your legs locking themselves around his hips.

in the corner of your eye you see him his hand disappearing down, before you feel his cock teasing your folds, his head catching on your clit when he goes to pull it down back your folds. you gasp at this action, you eyes wanting to close themselves all on their own but your mind makes them stay open as you don’t want to miss a single thing.

his free hand comes to your face, pushing your hair back a little bit, before his tumb comes to wipe your bottom lip, your lips falling open on their own.

seungcheol caresses your cheek with the same tumb, and with gentle eyes and voice asks “ready?”.

to which you only nod your head slightly.

he smiles slightly before he lightly pinches your cheek “use your words, baby. i need to know you are 100% sure about this.”

a whispered ‘yes’ falls out of your mouth, your eyes in a trance with his own, the only things you are able to focus on are those chocolate orbs of his.

and then he’s pushing inside of you.

you both gasp at the burn, having difficulties fitting him inside of your tight hole.

his gasp turns into a rough growl, deeply saying “fuck, so tight, baby, you need to relax for me, otherwise i could hurt you”.

you try to listen to him, taking a deep breath in and out. kind of at the same time you both look down between yourselves.

only to see that he has only pushed his tip inside of you.

dear lord, may he help you survive this night.

as a minute passes by, you feel yourself slowly relax, seungcheol pushes himself a little bit more every few seconds until he’s completely bottoms out, his hips now touching yours.

he gives you a minute to relax, his hand gently rubbing your cheek, eyes lovingly looking at you.

as you give him a slight nod with your head, he slowly pulls out, before pushing back. he sets a slow pace for the start, carefully looking at your face for signs of discomfort, making your heart clench at his little signs of affection.

the pace continues for a few minutes, the thickness of his cock and how it massages your insides making you moan and him groan.

feeling like its not enough, you whine a little ‘more’ to him.

which was either the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life.

he quickens the movement of his hips slightly, the slapping of skin against skin now being added to the harmony that your moans and his groans were making.

his breath starts coming out heavier, the air that leaves his mouth lightly hitting your face as he’s fucking you.

you whine every time he pulls his hips back and moan every time he pushes them back, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

but it seems like you are so desperate for more, so insatiable, that you pull him closer to you with your hold around his shoulders, his face falling in the curve where your neck meets your shoulders, your own doing the very same, whining “more, please, give me more, i want more, please please please-“ directly in his ear, your eyes closing in pleasure.

seungcheol stops for second, making you whine in disappointment, takes ahold of your thighs to hitch your legs higher on his hips.

and then he doubles the speed of his hips.

he sets an insane pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, groans and deep moans falling out of his mouth. his dick feels so big, his head repeatedly hitting your spot, making your moans border on screams.

you can’t remember the last time you got fucked this good, and you were sure this will stay in your memory forever.

seungcheol continues with his merciless pace, your muscles clenching around him which in return makes him make more of those beautiful noises.

“you like that, baby? fuck, the noises you make- you are driving me insane. your pussy feels so tight- fuck, i can barely fit. and it’s so wet i- jesus. is this all for me? hm? so wet, just for me baby? fuck, i could fuck you for the rest of my life, never want to stop, want my dick inside of you all the time. you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty girl? fuck- such a good girl-“

he continues to praise you and talk about you good you feel, how you are being such a good girl for him, and normally you would answer.

(un)fortunately, you have zero thoughts going on in your mind, only able to moan in his ear while he kisses and bites your shoulder, neck and collarbones, the sting barely noticeable in comparison to the slapping of the skin you feel on the back of your thighs. with extra effort, you successfully say through a moan “more, please, gimme more”.

seungcheol growls at this, before he pulls out completely out of you. he then harshly pulls you by your thighs and turns you over, pulling your hips up before you even have the time to let out a gasp. your chest that are now lacking all the air are touching the mattress while your ass is in the air, fully exposed to seungcheol’s eyes.

without any warning he slaps your right ass cheek, something between a scream and a moan flying out of your mouth. not giving you any time to even process the action, he’s already pushing his cock back inside of you, the new angle making the stretch feel even more delicious.

“fuck, my girl is so desperate huh? so desperate for this cock, moaning so prettily for me. fuck, you are going to be the death of me, you and this pussy”.

he basically lays himself on top of you, covering your whole body with his own, his firm chest pressed in your back, before he resumes his quick pace.

seungcheol pounds into you, so much so that you feel your pussy burn from the force of his hips that are slapping against it.

he continues to praise you but unfortunately you don’t hear anything anymore, only things that you can focus on is the delicious stretch of his dick and how it’s repeatedly hitting your g spot.

feeling your finish approaching quicker than expected, you moan out “im coming im coming im comi-“.

seeing that he is in the same boat, seungcheol groans in your ear, his hand quickly finding your own and intertwining your hands. squeezing your hands tightly, he growls in your ear “cum. cum for me pretty girl, fuck- make a mess on this dick”.

he uses his free hand to find your clit and rub it quickly.

and then you are screaming in pleasure. you feel your walls squeezing him harder than ever, milking him dry, which triggers his own release, a deep moan rumbling in his chest against your own back.

he fucks your slowly through both of your orgasms, your mind so cloudy that you don’t even feel the bite on your shoulder that he had to do in order to quiet down his own moans.

after a minute you feel your thighs shake slightly from overstimulation, lightly tapping him on his arm to stop, and he does. he stays inside as he uses his hand to slightly rub the side of your thigh in comfort.

as you try to regain your breath, you feel seungcheol kiss your cheek lightly like a feather, before he asks.

“ready to give me one more, baby?”

your cheeks burn as your thoughts take over your mind again. quickly shaking them off, you pull on the shirt over your head before leaving the bathroom.

as quietly as possible, you enter seungcheol’s room to find him still sleeping on his stomach, his back turned to you. sighing in relief, you make a quick search for your things.

as you pull on your dress from last night, you grimace at the fact that you will have to wear the same pair of panties from last night.

as you make sure that you have all of your things, you slowly head for the doors.

until a voice behind you stops you.

“leaving already?”.

you stop in your tracks before slowly turning around to see seungcheol looking at you through puffy eyes.

“yknow, if you wanted to leave in the morning, you could’ve just told me that last night, i would’ve prepared a car to drive you back, but i was under the impression that you were going to stay and have a breakfast with me”, he finishes as he lightly rubs his face.

you quickly look down, embarrassment and guilt washing over your face. you did want to stay, you wanted to stay for as long as he would let you, but you weren’t sure if that would be okay for him, or if you even deserved it.

seeing the expression on your face, seungcheol then asks, barely above the whisper, pleading looking at you.

“stay? please?”.

you quickly look up to see his gentle eyes, before you answer unsurely.

“would that really be okay with you? it’s just- i wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one time thing only or-or maybe- well, something more, so uh, i thought it be better to just leave a-and i-“

as you ramble, seungcheol feels his lips betray him as a small smile slowly gets bigger and bigger the longer you talk. deciding to make this easier for the both of you, he interrupts you.

“baby?”

you look at him with red cheeks, all and every thought you had evaporating from your mind.

seeing that he got your attention, he continues.

“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”

and who were you to deny him anything?

[navybrat817]

Vanilla Frosting

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.

A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”

Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.

Some sort of trouble.

As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.

“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.

He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.

The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.

“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”

Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.

“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.

“Love you, too!” You called back.

That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-

“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”

Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?

He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.

“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”

He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?

Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.

But you didn't go to him.

Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.

Yep, he was in big trouble.

Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.

Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.

Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 8

it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily

Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.

The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 

Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 

The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 

But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 

Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 

I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 

How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?

A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 

“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 

“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.

Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 

“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”

People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 

“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 

“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 

“No.”

“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”

Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”

Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 

Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 

Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 

Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 

But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 

Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 

Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 

“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 

“Um… Spencer?”

“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”

He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”

The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 

“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 

When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 

You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”

“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”

You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”

Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 

“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 

“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”

You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 

He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 

Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 

“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 

“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”

The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?

“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”

Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 

“I forgot. I thought… he said…”

A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 

“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”

And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 

“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”

“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”

His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 

“You didn’t see my note?”

The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 

“You left a note?”

Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 

It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 

A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 

“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 

Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”

“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 

He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”

You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 

“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”

Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 

“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”

“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 

He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 

Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 

There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 

Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 

And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 

“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”

Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.

Now he remembers. 

Long night, huh? I remember those days. 

It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 

Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 

“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 

You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”

If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”

He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 

“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”

“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”

You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 

“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 

You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 

“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 

The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.

“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 

You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 

“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”

Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 

“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”

“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”

Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 

“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”

“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”

“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”

Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 

“Like… one at a time? Or…”

He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.

“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 

There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 

“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”

“Spencer—”

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”

“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”

For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 

But that’s not the topic at hand. 

“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”

You swallow. 

“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”

About what?

He says your name. No response. 

“Can you look at me, please?”

It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 

“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 

Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”

Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”

You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 

“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”

“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”

He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”

Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?

A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 

“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”

Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 

He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 

“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 

“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”

So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 

You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 

Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 

He can’t not worry. 

And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 

-

part nine

[snowballseal]

How they react to you feeling insecure (LaDS)

Summary: How the Love and Deepspace boys react to you feeling insecure about various things. Includes Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier. Lots of fluff.

Word Count: they're all around 1000 roughly

Note: Warnings of different kinds of insecurity, ranging from physical to mental. I'm not sure of how well the Xavier one turned out, he's harder for me to write, but I couldn't leave him out!!! Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Rafayel

His ended up being a lot longer, so it's posted separately.

here

--

Sylus

Being partners with Sylus is a…daunting position to be in.

You always considered yourself a fairly average person, more focused on who you are than what you look like. It’s not that you don’t like the way you look - you do - and you don’t like comparing yourself to anyone, but you don’t plan on being a model anytime soon. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Then you met Sylus, a man who looks like he was carved from the marble of ancient architecture. He could stand in a room of masterpieces and people would still look at him instead of the art. And since you’re by his side now, that means they’re also looking at you.

Being stared down by wanderers in one thing. Being stared down by the most powerful and prevalent members of the N109 Zone? You hate to admit that it gets to you. In fact, it gets so under your skin, that even when you’re dressed in the most extravagant dresses and decadent jewelry, you can’t help but feel…insecure.

Twisting in front of the mirror, you eye every detail of the dress Sylus bought you. It’s perfect, of course. The man has an annoying knack for getting you the most beautiful things and knowing exactly what fits you. The color compliments your hair and it’s comfortable to boot.

Still. You can’t help but feel like a kid trying to fit in at the adults table, wearing your mother’s heels even though they don’t fit. A bit ridiculous.

“Do you not like it?” Sylus appears behind you, dressed in a matching, lavish suit. 

You jump a little, eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. His eyes burn into you, reading the hesitation on your face as you curl your arms around your stomach. There’s no fiery retort or witty comment like usual. You just look back at your dress, the tips of your ears tinging pink.

A frown pulls at Sylus’ lips, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”

“...Do you really think people believe us? That we’re together?” You ask quietly, shuffling your weight back and forth. “That I’m a good match for you?”

You’re keenly aware that you’ve never had a conversation like this with Sylus. For the most part your relationship has been filled with teasing and playful bickering. It’s always light. Or about work. This is new, and while you trust him more than anything, you hate not knowing how he will react.

Sylus hums, low and thoughtful, as he curls his arms around you, “Does it matter to you what others think?”

You let out a sigh, leaning back into his touch thankfully. You want to say no. You want to keep up the air of confidence, but that quiet voice of doubt keeps worming its way through your thoughts.

“I just…I feel like I’m not what people expect. And…” you try to explain, hesitating. Sylus presses a kiss to your shoulder, offering a hum of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you add, “It bothers me. It feels like I’m being forced into the spotlight but I’m not meant to be there. Like I don’t fit.”

“Hmm, so you feel like an odd duckling.” You give him a small jab, and Sylus chuckles. “My apologies. I think you misunderstand the attention though.” He pulls you closer. You shiver as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder, pressing delicate kisses up the side of your neck, until he can murmur lowly into your ear, “You’re too humble, kitten. When you walk into a room, all eyes turn to you, not out of judgment, but out of jealousy. Afterall, you’ve tamed the leader of Onychinus. Even if you walked in with your uniform, they’d look at you the same. And I get the pleasure of walking around with the most powerful-” He presses his lips to your jaw. “-beautiful-” His lips trace against your cheek. “-woman of Linkon City. Don’t let the attention of those lesser than you make you doubt, otherwise I might have to find another way to show them just how well we fit together.”

Sylus’ eyes catch yours in the mirror again. They’re dark, like coals surrounded by flickering cinders. So intense you can almost feel the flames licking along your skin. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s being genuine. And that sets your heart racing. Along with the way he holds you so close, equal parts possessive and reverent. Like worship.

“Your devotion might scare some people, Sylus,” you whisper, glancing sideways at him.

He flashes a dangerous smile, “Does it scare you?”

You cast one final glance at your reflections before turning around in his hold and curling your arms around his neck. Sylus raises a challenging brow.

“I’m not. I like how you stand up for me, even when it’s against my own insecurities.” You draw him down, pressing a kiss to that carnal smile. Sylus softens immediately, cupping your jaw to draw you into a deeper kiss. The warmth that simmers in each and every touch leaves you a little breathless when you pull away. Pressing against his chest before he can drag you in again, you make sure to say one last thing, “Thank you, Sylus. I’ll make sure to remember all of that…especially the part about you being wrapped around my finger.”

“Hmm, such a cruel mistress, indeed.”

“And you love me.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “Yes, I do. So, will you accompany me to this auction now?”

---

Zayne

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m going?” You ask, voice wavering with nerves as you straighten Zayne’s tie for him.

“Isn’t it natural to bring one’s partner to these kinds of events?” He tilts his head, brow perked ever so slightly.

You nod, but can’t seem to erase the frown on your lips.

A week ago, Zayne had asked if you would accompany him to his medical school’s class reunion banquet. He had been asked to give a special word, given the reputation he had developed in his time at Akso Hospital, not to mention winning the Starcatcher Award for his work.

At first, you were ecstatic to have an opportunity to learn more about his old life. He has such a thing about living in the present, you hardly get to hear any stories about his time in med school, or when he was doing rotations at the hospital. You were eager to meet the people who he used to spend time with and hopefully catch a few stories you could tease him with later.

But as the night drew closer, you started actually thinking about all the people you would be around, all of whom graduated from the same medical program Zayne did. You can only imagine how smart they all are. And how you’ll get lost the moment any medical jargon comes up. 

The more you think about it, the more nerves you feel buzzing under your skin. You know you’re not the smartest, not compared to Zayne at least. He’s a genius, after all, and could probably outsmart most anyone. You’ve always been better at the physical stuff. That’s what makes you such a good pair. 

It’s not like you can impress everyone by whipping your gun out and fighting, though. All you’ll have are your words, and you’re not particularly good with those…

You blink when a large hand suddenly circles your wrist. Glancing up, you find Zayne looking down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“While I appreciate your attention to detail, I believe you’ve been straightening my tie for five minutes now.” Heat creeps up your neck. You hadn’t even realized you had been lost in thought. Zayne’s eyes narrow inquisitively.  “What are you thinking about that has your mind so preoccupied?” 

His thumb brushes casually along the inside of your wrist, not so subtly checking your pulse. A strangely endearing habit of his when he’s worried about you. You let out a long sigh and hide your face against his chest, feeling the heat bleed across your cheeks.

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re insecure about how smart all his friends must be?

Zayne doesn’t push right away. He knows you’ll explain when you want to, and if you don’t, then he knows you’re not ready to. It was an unspoken rule between you, something you started with him because you noticed he likes to think his words out. It felt natural to offer you the same when you struggle to express yourself. Like now.

Ultimately, you figure it’s better to just be straightforward. That’s how he would do it, and it’s better than dancing around the subject.

“I guess I’m nervous because I feel like I’m going to be the dumbest person in the room tonight,” you mutter against his coat. Your fingers tap out an anxious beat against his abdomen. “It’s silly and I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just don’t want to make you look bad.”

Zayne remains quiet for a long minute. Your fingers move a little quicker, matching the stuttering rhythm of your heart. His hand slides up, gently trapping them against his body.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Physical tics are a common result of anxiety,” he hums dismissively, thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “As is your rapid heart rate. This truly bothers you.”

“Of course it does,” you sigh, a bit exasperated, ”You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Zayne. I love you so much, and I respect your work more than anything. I don’t, I don’t want to say something stupid and have it reflect on you badly.”

The doctor clicks his tongue, “First, I would prefer if you stop using that language to describe yourself.”

Your heart falters when his cool fingers touch your cheek, drawing your face up to his. He looks upset, but not exactly at you, the sharp line of his jaw contrasting with the softness of his eyes. Like it pains him that you think this way. Which it does.

“Those words don’t suit you. I wouldn’t allow another to call you them, so why would I allow you to?” He asserts, the corner of his lips twitching with distaste. “I don’t want to hear them again, do you understand?”

“Okay.” A thread of warmth curls around your heart when Zayne nods approvingly. His protectiveness really knows no bounds.

“Second, I do not agree with your diagnosis.” 

Your brow furrows a little. What? What does he mean, he disagrees? He’s literally surrounded by geniuses, you can’t match up to any of them if they’re anything like him. 

Seeing you start to overthink, Zayne shakes his head and gently pinches your cheek. You jolt back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making you pout.

“Meanie,” you grumble, “Fine, explain your reasoning, Doctor Zayne.”

“It’s simple. Intelligence is made up of more than just academic knowledge, which, I assume, is what you are thinking of when you make such comments.” You nod. He’s not wrong about that, you guess. “Intelligence also includes the knowledge of how to use one’s strengths to achieve the best outcome. It is true that for some, this means using academic reasoning. However, it also includes those who develop the skills and discipline to maintain their bodies and fight for those who can’t, like…”

He pauses and gives you an expectant look.

“...me,” you finish slowly.

“Yes,” he hums, stroking the redness of your cheek, “I believe, under these standards, you are far more intelligent than most of the people you will meet tonight, darling. Though there is no comparison in the first place.”

His words sink in slowly but surely, filling in the cracks of your doubt. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he probably has some kind of healing magic, because you can already feel the burden of your insecurities melting away.

Leave it to Zayne to know exactly what to say, but in the most complex sounding way.

“You always know how to make me feel better, huh?” You ask, finally cracking that smile he loves.

“I am simply telling you the truth.” Zayne leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “There is not a lifetime in which my reputation will be more important than you. I would gladly throw it all away if it meant reminding you of that.”

You snort, “Don’t do that, please. I can only imagine the fit Doctor Greyson would throw. He’d be so mad at me.”

“I can handle Doctor Greyson, in the same way I can handle everyone tonight.” He slips his fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. You wiggle your fingers  happily and Zayne can’t help but grin to himself. “If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable, just stay by my side and I will act as your distraction. Though, I’m sure they will all love you, just as I do.”

“...Thank you, Zayne.”

“Of course, my jasmine.”

---

Xavier

Working with Xavier is a blessing, as much as it is a curse. You couldn’t ask for a better partner. Someone who you know will always have your back, who can handle himself completely, who is probably the most talented hunter you’ve ever met in your entire life. He’s undeniably amazing.

On the flip side of that, though, you often fall into the trap of thinking about how he deserves better. Wondering if, maybe, the only reason he chose to stay with you was because of the aether core in your heart. If that’s also the reason you’re in a relationship now…

And some days, these thoughts win out over the rest. Like today.

“What’s wrong?”

You blink, eyes flickering up from the bowl of ramen in front of you. Early on, you had started a tradition of eating a meal together after a successful mission, to just enjoy the peace of your home and each other. But today, you weren’t feeling that hungry, just…tired.

Xavier tilts his head, concern furrowing his brow - he noticed your mood start to shift days before, but didn’t want to push since you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. Now, though, it’s too obvious for him to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you sigh, flicking your chopsticks back and forth to watch the noodles swirl around in the broth, a small frown capturing your lips. It’s a horribly obvious lie.

“Is it something I did?” His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. It’s just a rational question to help him figure out what’s wrong. Still, you feel guilt tug at your chest, and you set the chopsticks down with another sigh.

You don’t want him to think that. You’d never blame Xavier for something like this. That would be like asking him to be a worse person, which is stupid. It’s just you. Your problem. Dragging him into it will only make you feel worse.

“No, Xavier, you didn’t do anything, promise. I’m not upset…with you.” 

“But you are upset.”

Chancing a glance up at him proves a bad idea, making it all that more difficult to keep your thoughts quiet. Behind his normal sleepy expression, worry gleams in the deep blue of his eyes, unyielding and undeniably calm, like waves lapping gently at the beach. 

The sight makes your heart ache and the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Do you think I’m actually a suitable partner for you?”

Surprise flickers across the hunter’s face. Of all the things he was expecting you to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He doesn’t laugh though, or take your question lightly.

“Do you mean, as a hunting partner? Or as a romantic partner?”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes falling back to your ramen, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He hums softly. You try to ignore the nerves fluttering in your chest as Xavier gets up, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he circles the table to stand next to you. The hunter drips his head, catching your gaze.

“May I see your hand?”

A small frown pulls at your lips, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but you offer him your hand anyways. Xavier takes your wrist, touch featherlight, and moves it so your hand is held up flat, facing him. Your brow furrows.

“Xav-”

“Look.” 

Pursing your lips, you let out a little huff. He really hates giving direct answers, doesn’t he? Still, you’re in no place to really judge him, or expect anything for that matter. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to you.

You watch as Xavier places his hand against yours. His palm is warm and you can feel the calluses from who knows how many years of hunting. Your hand looks tiny in comparison, his pale, delicate fingers long enough to curl over your own a little. The sight makes your heart squeeze, fondness competing with the feeling of being so…small.

“They’re pretty different,” Xavier hums, voice still calm, his own eyes fixed on your hands. “Your fingers are always cold, and your hands are small. You have a scar here.” His free hand grazes the side of your palm, along your pinky. “And here” He traces another along your knuckle. Your breath falters at the tenderness behind his touch, like you’re delicate porcelain. “Mine are in different places. Yours are skilled at weaving silk balls and mine can…open jars.”

You snort. Xavier’s eyes dart up to yours, sparkling with humor, a brow raised. You try to smother your laughter, rather ineffectively, and motion for him to continue.

“They’re different, but-” His fingers spread apart, and you mimic him instinctually, only for his fingers to slot between yours in one fluid motion. You inhale softly, laughter dying in your throat. It’s like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect embrace that washes over you with a comforting warmth.

Xavier watches you, keenly aware of the way you squeeze his hand tightly, desperately, like you’re worried it might disappear. He gives yours a tender squeeze in return, thumb brushing over your knuckle.

“I think they’re a suitable match. Don’t you?”

God, how could you go without this man? The worries that have been pricking at the back of your mind all week seem to melt away. It leaves you with that warmth, the kind that only comes from Xavier, that he offers you over and over again.

You give his hand another squeeze, finally smiling, “Yah. I do…Thanks, Xavier.”

The hunter leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You can feel his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs, “Let me know if you ever feel this way again, angel. I’ll be more than glad to remind you.”

“I will.”

---

This was really fun to write!!! I really hope you guys like it! There are so many freaking tags on this puppy.

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[vroomvroomwee]

Crowley is Lucifer

(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)

- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.

- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.

- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway

- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show

- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant

Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here

- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles

- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line

- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank

- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"

- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"

Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"

And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind

- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"

- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky

- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)

- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.

- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel

- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental

- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs

- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago

- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away

- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.

(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)

Edit:

- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK

- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)

- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.

Edit 2:

- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.

- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"

- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)

Edit 3:

- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."

- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.

[simpjaes]

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.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[its-avalon-08]

chicken shop date (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - little angst, tears, comfort, jealousy

"Hey, babe," Lando called out as he walked into the living room, his voice casual, as if he was mentioning the weather. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading, her eyes narrowing a little, sensing something was coming. "I’ve got to head out for a bit later. Media duties. You know how it is."

"Yeah, where to?" Y/N asked, pretending she wasn’t bothered, even though her gut told her this wasn’t just any media duty.

Lando plopped down beside her on the couch, leaning back with his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. "Just some interview thing. The Chicken Shop Date."

Her heart sank a little. "The one with Amelia?"

Lando nodded, not catching the slight change in her tone. "Yeah, should be fun, right? It’s been all over social media. Apparently, people love that show."

Y/N forced a smile. "Yeah… fun."

He didn’t notice the hesitation, scrolling through his phone as if it was no big deal. "It’s just an interview, nothing serious. I’ll be back by dinner."

Y/N gave a tight nod. "Okay, sure. It’s fine."

But it wasn’t. It didn’t help that she knew how these things played out online. Fans loved to pair drivers up with anyone and everyone, and Amelia was already adored. Y/N tried not to think about it too much, but the insecurity crept in. The doubt, the comparison—it all bubbled beneath the surface.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando sat across from Amelia, lights blaring overhead, the cameras rolling, and the familiar buzz of media duties surrounding him. He smiled and laughed at her jokes, played along with the teasing banter, but his mind wasn’t really in the conversation. It was on Y/N.

As Amelia quipped something about his love for chicken, Lando gave the expected laugh, but inside, all he could think about was how Y/N would have found that moment funny—actually funny, not forced for the sake of the cameras. She had this way of cracking up over the smallest things, making even the most mundane moments between them feel like they were in their own little world. He shifted in his seat, nodding as Amelia asked him another question, but it was Y/N’s voice he wanted to hear, not Amelia’s.

I should’ve texted her before this started, he thought. She hates these things. She probably thinks this is stupid.

His smile faltered for a split second before he masked it again with his easy-going charm. Lando’s mind wandered, picturing Y/N curled up on the couch, probably watching something on Netflix, or worse—doom-scrolling through social media where people would already be buzzing about him and Amelia. He knew how much she hated seeing those comments.

"Do you always pick chicken on a date?" Amelia asked, her voice pulling him back to the present.

He smirked automatically, playing along. "Depends on the girl, I guess."

But in his mind, there was only one girl. He could almost hear Y/N’s sarcastic response if she’d been there. Something like “Oh wow, such a Casanova.” He bit back a real grin, wishing he was with her instead, eating pizza on the floor like they always did when they had time to themselves.

As Amelia tossed another teasing question his way, Lando nodded again, but his thoughts drifted to Y/N’s smile. Her real smile, the one she only showed when she was truly happy—her eyes crinkling at the edges, dimples making their rare but precious appearance. God, I love that smile, he thought. How do I even survive without seeing it every day?

The interview continued, but Lando was only half there. His answers were automatic, the jokes came easy enough, but his heart was back home with Y/N. He could already imagine the comments that would flood in after this aired—the inevitable “couple goals” remarks about him and Amelia, the fans who shipped them just because they shared a few laughs on camera. He hated how much Y/N would probably see it all and doubt herself again.

She’s the one, he reminded himself, trying to focus as Amelia asked him about his worst date experience. But his mind flickered to the time he and Y/N had gotten completely soaked during an impromptu storm on what was supposed to be a romantic picnic. It had been a disaster, but also perfect, because it was with her.

The interview wrapped up eventually, and as he stood up to leave, Lando’s first instinct was to check his phone. A text from Y/N popped up.

How’s it going? Did you eat all the chicken yet?

He grinned down at the message, a wave of warmth washing over him. She’s probably teasing, but I know she’s anxious, he thought, his fingers quickly tapping out a response.

Miss you. Be home soon.

Amelia said something to him on the way out, but he barely registered it. His mind was already miles away, back where he belonged—next to Y/N.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Y/N sat on the couch, her phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, Instagram, and every other app she swore she’d avoid today. The comments were relentless, each one stabbing at the insecurities she’d been trying so hard to ignore.

Amelia and Lando are too cute together! Lando needs someone like Amelia, not Y/N. Amelia is just…better. They have way more chemistry than Lando and his actual girlfriend, LOL.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat as she let the phone fall onto her lap. The words kept spinning in her mind. They shouldn’t have bothered her this much, but they did. The laughter and teasing between Lando and Amelia from the video replayed in her mind, feeding her doubts.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her, breaking her out of the spiral. She sighed, assuming it was more notifications from the post, but the name on the screen made her pause.

Carlitos.

She hesitated, not wanting to deal with anyone right now, but something told her to pick up. Carlos wouldn’t call without a reason.

“Hey, Carlitos,” she answered, trying her best to sound casual.

But Carlos knew her too well. "You’re doom-scrolling, aren’t you?"

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, her eyes darting to her phone again as if he could see everything she’d just read. "No… I mean, maybe a little. How do you know?"

Carlos chuckled softly on the other end. "I just do. I saw the interview, and I figured you’d be reading all that rubbish online. You know how people get with these things."

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. "It’s not just people. It’s like… I don’t know, Carlos. They’re saying Lando and Amelia have more chemistry than we do. And I… I can’t help but think, what if they’re right?"

There was a brief silence before Carlos spoke, his voice gentle but firm. "You’re kidding, right? Lando adores you. You should see the way he talks about you when you’re not around. You’ve got nothing to worry about."

Y/N’s chest tightened. "But did you see the video? They looked… I don’t know, comfortable. Like they fit."

Carlos let out a soft sigh. "Y/N, of course they looked comfortable. It’s an interview, they’re supposed to. And Amelia’s whole thing is to make it playful. But you and Lando—what you two have is real. Not some staged banter for the cameras."

She stayed silent, biting her lip, unsure if she could believe him.

"You’ve been with him through everything, Y/N," Carlos continued, his voice softer now. "The highs, the lows, the things the cameras never see. What you two have isn’t for the internet to decide. It’s for you and Lando, and no one else."

Y/N swallowed, her eyes stinging as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. "I just… I hate feeling like I’m not enough for him sometimes."

Carlos paused for a moment before speaking again, this time with more conviction. "Listen to me. You are more than enough. Lando knows it. I know it. And deep down, you know it too. The internet? They’ll always talk, but they don’t know the first thing about your relationship."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. "Yeah, I guess."

"No, not ‘I guess,’" Carlos insisted. "I’m telling you. Lando loves you. He doesn’t care about Amelia or anyone else. And if he saw you right now, he’d probably punch himself for letting you feel like this."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N, despite the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks. "You’re too good to me, Carlos."

"Someone’s got to keep an eye on you when Lando’s off doing these ridiculous interviews," he teased, his tone lighter now. "But seriously, promise me you’ll stop reading those comments. They don’t matter."

Y/N nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I’ll try. Thanks, Carlos. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, Y/N. And if you ever need a reminder, just call me, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly, feeling the weight on her chest slowly lift.

"And remember," Carlos added, his voice warm and reassuring, "you’re family. We’ve all got your back, no matter what. Especially me."

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling at his words. "I know. Thank you, Carlos. Really."

"Now, go put your phone down and do something that makes you happy. Lando will be home soon, and he’s probably missing you already."

Y/N let out a soft chuckle. "You’re right. I’ll stop the doom-scrolling."

"Good," Carlos said, his smile evident through the phone. "Talk soon, Y/N."

"Bye, Carlos."

As the call ended, Y/N set her phone down, feeling a bit lighter. Carlos was right. Lando loved her, and she couldn’t let the opinions of people who didn’t even know them take that away. With a deep breath, she got up, deciding to make dinner and wait for Lando, her heart feeling a little more at peace.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando was driving back home, the streets quiet, his mind wandering between the day’s events and how much he just wanted to be with Y/N. He could already imagine her waiting for him, maybe with some sarcastic comment about the interview, but her smile would say it all. That was his Y/N.

His phone rang, breaking him out of his thoughts. Seeing Carlos’ name flash on the screen, he raised an eyebrow, quickly connecting his Bluetooth before answering.

“Carlos, what’s up?” Lando asked casually, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Mate, we need to talk,” Carlos’ tone was serious, which immediately caught Lando’s attention. “It’s about Y/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Is she okay?”

“She’s been doom scrolling, Lando,” Carlos sighed. “All the comments about you and Amelia… they’re getting to her. Badly.”

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as his heart started to race. No, no, no… I should’ve checked on her more. I should’ve known this would happen.

“Shit,” Lando muttered under his breath, the image of Y/N’s hurt expression flashing in his mind. “How bad is it?”

“She’s really upset,” Carlos said softly. “I just talked to her. She’s trying to act like it’s fine, but you know Y/N. She’s hurt, man.”

Lando’s mind started spiraling. The interview with Amelia had been playful, nothing more. But of course, the internet had twisted it into something else. And he hadn’t even thought to reassure Y/N after it. How could I be so stupid? She’s always had a hard time with stuff like this.

He could already picture her sitting at home, scrolling through all those hateful comments, each one cutting deeper than the last. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Guilt washed over him in waves, his mind running a mile a minute.

“You need to fix this, mate,” Carlos added. “She needs to hear it from you.”

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, though Carlos couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll fix it. Thanks, Carlos.”

“Don’t let her sit with it too long, alright? You know how she gets.”

Lando’s chest felt tight as he ended the call. His thoughts swirled, an overwhelming sense of panic bubbling inside him. She’s hurting because of me. I should’ve known. Why didn’t I check in with her sooner?

He couldn’t stop the spiral. His mind raced through every scenario—Y/N sitting there, thinking she wasn’t good enough, believing for even a second that anyone, let alone Amelia, could ever come close to what she meant to him. What if she starts pulling away? What if she starts believing those comments?

Lando could feel the pressure building in his chest, his heart pounding as he drove. He hated the thought of her doubting his feelings, doubting herself. She was the most important person in his life, the one he thought about constantly. How could she not know that?

I need to make it up to her. I need to show her how much I love her.

As he passed a convenience store, he swerved into the parking lot on impulse, throwing the car into park. He rushed inside, his eyes scanning the aisles in a frenzy. What would make her smile? What would remind her that she’s everything?

His heart still raced as he grabbed her favorite chocolate, the one she always ate when she was feeling down. Next, he spotted a small display of flowers—bright, colorful blooms that would make her laugh at how cheesy they were. He grabbed those too, along with a soft plush bear that looked far too childish but somehow felt perfect for this moment.

As he stood at the checkout, waiting for the clerk to ring everything up, his mind was still spinning. What if it’s not enough? What if she’s already convinced herself that she’s not good enough for me?

No, he told himself firmly. I’ll make her see. I’ll make her believe it.

He rushed back to the car, throwing the flowers and chocolates onto the passenger seat, already picturing her face when she saw them. She deserves the world, and I’ve been too caught up to remind her of that. I’m such an idiot.

The drive home felt longer than ever, his heart pounding in his chest as his thoughts swirled between guilt, panic, and determination. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He grabbed everything from the seat, taking a deep breath as he walked up to the door. I need to fix this.

Lando fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. He stepped inside quietly, his eyes immediately searching for her. The house was quiet, but he knew she was there. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging between them.

“Y/N?” he called softly, stepping further into the house, the flowers and chocolates held awkwardly in his hands.

She appeared from the living room, her eyes red-rimmed, a telltale sign that she’d been crying. Seeing her like that nearly broke him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando swallowed hard, his heart aching at the sight of her. “I, uh, got you something,” he said, holding up the flowers and chocolates, his voice shaky with nerves.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the items in his hands, a soft, surprised smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite her sadness.

“Why?” she asked, though her voice wasn’t accusatory—it was more like she didn’t understand why he would do something so sweet when she felt so far from deserving it.

“Because…” Lando stepped closer, his chest tightening again as he searched for the right words. “Because I love you, and I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve known how all of this would make you feel, and I didn’t—” He took a deep breath, his voice catching slightly. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what anyone says. I only care about you.”

She looked at him, her eyes softening, but the hurt was still there. “Lando, I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you. And with everything people are saying—”

“Stop,” Lando interrupted, stepping closer and setting the flowers and chocolates down so he could take her hands in his. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. I hate that you ever doubted that, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop it before it got this far.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt pouring out. “I should’ve texted you, called you, anything. I hate that you had to sit there and read all those stupid comments. I love you, Y/N. No one else, not Amelia, not anyone. Just you.”

Y/N’s lip trembled, her walls breaking down as she looked into his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Lando promised, his voice firm as he pulled her into a tight hug. “You won’t lose me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt, but Lando didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was in his arms, and he was never letting go.

“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her voice muffled but full of emotion.

“I love you more,” Lando murmured, kissing the top of her head softly. "Always."

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

The race weekend buzz filled the paddock, mechanics and engineers bustling around in preparation for the big day. Lando stood near his McLaren, helmet in hand, but his eyes were focused on Y/N, standing just a few feet away. She was watching him, that small, soft smile on her lips that always made his heart race more than any lap could.

They hadn’t spoken much since arriving at the track, but everything between them felt different now—closer, stronger. And as Lando walked toward her, the noise of the paddock seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. “Ready to win today?” she asked, her voice teasing but full of warmth.

Lando grinned, but something stirred in him as he stood there, watching her. He couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he needed to do more—show her, not just tell her, how much she meant to him. Not later, not when the race was over, but now. Right now.

Without thinking twice, he closed the gap between them in two quick strides. His helmet dropped from his hand, clattering to the ground, but he didn’t care.

“Lando?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening in surprise as he reached for her.

Before she could say anything more, Lando cupped her face in his hands, pulling her in for a kiss—a deep, passionate kiss that made the world around them disappear. His lips moved against hers with an intensity that spoke louder than words ever could, his hands trembling slightly as he held her close.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively gripping the front of his race suit as she melted into him, caught completely off guard by the suddenness of it. But the way he kissed her—the urgency, the need—told her everything she needed to know.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together. The paddock around them had come to a standstill, everyone frozen in place, eyes wide as they witnessed the moment.

Lando smiled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he whispered, “I love you so much, Y/N. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of shock and happiness, her cheeks flushed. “Lando… I—”

But before she could finish, he kissed her again—this time softer, more tender, but still just as full of meaning.

When he pulled back, Y/N let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “You do realize you just kissed me in front of half the grid, right?”

Lando grinned, glancing around for the first time to see the eyes of drivers, team members, and media locked on them. Phones were out, no doubt capturing the moment that was already spreading across the internet like wildfire.

“Good,” he said with a mischievous smirk. “Now the whole world knows who I love.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she playfully hit his chest. “You’re such a show-off.”

“Only for you,” Lando teased, pulling her in for one last quick kiss. “Gotta give them something to talk about, right?”

As he bent down to grab his helmet, his eyes stayed locked on hers, the playful grin never leaving his face. He knew what he’d just done—how this moment was going to blow up online, how everyone was going to be talking about the “kiss heard ‘round the paddock.”

And honestly, he didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them post. Let the internet go wild.

He winked at her as he started to back toward the car. “Wish me luck?”

Y/N smiled brightly, her heart racing from the kiss and the moment that felt so surreal. “You don’t need luck,” she called after him. “You’ve got me.”

Lando laughed, a lightness in his chest as he put on his helmet, ready for the race. But before he climbed into the car, he stole one last glance at her.

And when he saw her standing there, beaming at him, he knew—he’d already won.

By the time Lando was strapped in and the race was about to begin, the internet had already exploded.

“Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a kiss before the race—power move!” “Is this the most romantic moment in F1 history?” “#LandosLove trending as fans lose their minds over that kiss.”

But all that mattered to Lando, sitting in his McLaren, was the fact that Y/N was there, watching him, and she knew—without a doubt—that she was the only one he cared about.

And today, he was going to win. For her.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

As soon as the kiss went viral, Instagram was flooded with posts, stories, and comments, with fans going absolutely wild over the moment.

@f1updates 📸 | Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a passionate kiss before hopping into his McLaren! 💥🔥 #LandoNorris #F1Romance #PaddockGoals

Comments:

@racingqueen_: SOMEONE GET ME AN OXYGEN TANK. I CAN’T BREATHE. 😍🔥

@fastandflirty: The way he just grabbed her and kissed her like he didn’t care who was watching?! Lando, sir, that’s illegal. 😳😭

@fanofchampions: This is the most romantic thing to ever happen in F1, I swear.

@speedqueen_: “I love you and I don’t care who knows it.” PLEASE HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE, I’M SOBBING. 😭

@racingislife: The internet isn’t ready for the #LandosLove era. 🥺❤️

@lan_y/nforever: This is NOT a drill. My heart cannot handle this.

@mclarensoulmate: F1 who? I’m now a fan of Lando’s romance arc. 🥹🌹

@formula1love 📷 Lando Norris and Y/N — the ultimate paddock couple. The kiss that broke the internet! 💏🔥 #CoupleGoals #LandosLove #F1

Comments:

@gridgirl_gossip: THAT KISS WAS STRAIGHT OUT OF A MOVIE, I’M NOT OKAY. 🥵💥

@checkeredlovestory: And Lando said, “Let me set the internet on fire real quick.” 😂🔥

@speeddiva: Can we talk about how they didn’t care about ANYONE around them? Like, iconic behavior.

@mclarensnumberone: They’re the new Brangelina of F1. No one can tell me otherwise. 😭

@thisgridisburning: This is better than any podium celebration I’ve ever seen in F1! 🏆💖

@formulaonedaydream: I want what they have. NO ONE TALK TO ME.

@mclarenofficial We knew Lando was fast on track, but that kiss was next level. 😉💨 #LandoNorris #PaddockLove

Comments:

@y/nation: WE ARE SCREAMING! THAT WAS THE KISS OF THE CENTURY. 👏🏽🔥

@lanfanofficial: Can Lando stop being perfect for like, five minutes? 🥲

@gridromantic: Not Lando turning the paddock into his own personal rom-com! I’m WEAK.

@mclarensbabes: Lando just raised the bar for every F1 driver’s girlfriend/boyfriend! Good luck topping that, lads. 😂💖

@inlove_with_speed: I’m crying, I’m laughing, I’m DYING. No one can compete with them. 💀

@landonorrisfanclub Lando's not just winning races—he’s winning at love too. 🥺💙 That kiss?! We’re still recovering. #LandoAndY/N #F1CoupleGoals

Comments:

@allthegridfeels: If this isn’t the definition of relationship goals, I don’t know what is.

@lapsofemotion: The way he didn’t care who saw it… I'm screaming.

@teambae: The power they hold over us all is unreal. 💥💖

@racedaydreamer: They really gave us a full-blown rom-com in the middle of the paddock, and I’M HERE FOR IT.

@getinthegrid: Someone write a fanfic about this moment RIGHT NOW.

@gridsweethearts Did Lando just set the bar for every F1 driver’s love life? Yes. Yes, he did. 💥😳 #LandoNorris #Y/N #LoveInThePaddock

Comments:

@racingheartbeats: I’m sobbing, they’re so beautiful together. I can’t even. 🥲

@formula1dreamer: Lando, what did you put in that kiss?! I FELT THAT IN MY SOUL. 😭

@mclovingspeed: That was the most iconic thing ever. No one’s gonna top that.

@lan_y/nfanforever: Lando just casually redefined love in F1. The paddock belongs to them now.

The hashtag #LandosLove began trending worldwide within minutes, fans sharing clips, edits, and reactions to the unexpected yet intensely romantic moment. It wasn't just a race weekend anymore—it was the weekend Lando and Y/N stole the show.

[xo100]

hi can i have a request a story about life where lando and his ex finally get back together again 🥹

Unfinished business- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1581

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris didn’t mean to fall in love with her. Not really. It just happened somewhere between late-night calls from different parts of the world and the quiet mornings they shared over coffee, bleary-eyed and content. For two years, they had built something beautiful. Something fragile. And like many fragile things, it shattered.

It had been a year since they parted ways. A quiet, mutual decision born from exhaustion, distance, and the demands of their individual lives. She had her career, a demanding one that required its own brand of discipline and attention. And Lando, of course, was always on the move, his life dictated by the calendar of Formula 1. It wasn't anyone's fault. There was no dramatic fight, no harsh words. Just the aching realization that, for now, their lives didn’t fit together the way they once had.

So they let go. They hugged each other goodbye in her quiet London flat, the kind of hug that lingered a little too long, with an unspoken understanding that maybe this wasn’t forever, that maybe one day they would find their way back to each other.

A year had passed since that night.

-

She scrolled through her Instagram feed absentmindedly, stopping when she saw his latest post—a sun-drenched photo of Lando standing by his car, all wide smiles and windswept hair. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating, before double-tapping. The small heart icon appeared, a familiar pang settling in her chest. It had become a ritual at this point—liking his posts, reading his captions, sometimes even dropping a comment when she felt brave enough. And he did the same, always. As if this silent conversation on social media was their only connection left.

She never stopped missing him. Some days it was just a quiet hum in the background of her life, a dull ache that she had grown used to. Other days, it hit her like a wave, out of nowhere, leaving her breathless and wondering how she had ever let him go.

On the other side of the world, Lando felt the same. He never admitted it out loud, not even to his closest friends, but she was never far from his thoughts. He found himself checking his phone too often, waiting for those tiny signs that she was still there, still watching, still caring. Every time her name appeared in his notifications—whether it was a simple like or a playful comment—his heart gave a small, traitorous leap.

They weren’t together anymore, but they were never really apart.

-

The first time they saw each other again after the breakup, it was at a race. Lando had known she might be there, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment their eyes met across the paddock. For a split second, the world around him seemed to blur, everything but her fading away. She looked the same but different—more poised, more confident, but with that same light in her eyes that had always drawn him in.

Her heart stuttered when she saw him, the familiar ache resurfacing. God, he looked good. The year had been kind to him. His hair was longer, his smile somehow brighter. But there was something else, something in the way his eyes softened when they landed on her.

They didn’t approach each other right away. Both too unsure of what to say, too aware of the unresolved feelings still hanging between them like a weight neither could lift. But eventually, they found themselves standing side by side, in the way that used to be so natural. And for a moment, it almost felt like old times.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the paddock.

“Hey,” she replied, her heart racing.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy. Heavy with everything unsaid, everything they had tried to bury over the past year.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, though the question felt painfully inadequate.

“Good. Busy, you know… work and everything,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit he remembered all too well.

“Yeah… same.” He gave a small nod, eyes searching her face for something—anything—that would tell him if she had moved on. If she had forgotten him.

But she hadn’t. And neither had he.

-

The weeks after that encounter were… confusing, to say the least. They started texting again, slowly at first. Just little things—a funny meme, a quick ‘good luck’ before his races, or a random thought that reminded her of him. But it quickly became more than that. The conversations stretched longer, the topics more personal. They talked about the things they hadn’t talked about during their relationship—how hard it had been to let go, how much they missed each other, how they hadn’t really stopped caring.

One night, after a long conversation, Lando found himself staring at his phone long after the screen had gone dark. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending that he was okay without her. He had tried. God, he had tried. But no matter how many races he won, no matter how many new cities he visited, there was always this empty space where she used to be.

And she felt it too. Every time she saw his name light up her phone, her heart leapt. Every time she saw a post of his, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and just say it—to admit that she still loved him.

The breaking point came on a rainy night in London, when the loneliness felt unbearable. She was scrolling through her messages with him, re-reading old texts from when they were still together. Before she could overthink it, she sent a message.

I miss you.

-

Lando’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, the soft glow cutting through the darkness of his hotel room. He reached for it, half-asleep, but when he saw her name, he was suddenly wide awake. He stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, his heart racing.

He had missed her too. Every single day.

Before he could second-guess himself, he typed a response.

I miss you too.

The three little dots that indicated she was typing appeared, then disappeared, and then appeared again. Finally, another message came through.

Can we talk? In person?

His heart skipped a beat.

Yes. When?

-

They met in a small café, tucked away from the prying eyes of the world. It was quiet, intimate, the kind of place where people went to have real conversations. The kind of place where they had once spent hours together, laughing and talking about nothing and everything.

When she walked in, Lando felt like the air had been knocked out of him. She looked nervous, just like he felt. But there was something else in her eyes too—hope.

They sat down, and for a few moments, neither of them spoke. It was like they were both afraid to say the wrong thing, to shatter the delicate balance they had found themselves in.

“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted with a small laugh, breaking the tension.

Lando smiled softly, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his coffee cup. “I’ve been trying to figure that out too.”

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was just… heavy. With everything they had left unsaid over the past year. Finally, Lando looked up, his voice quiet but steady.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” he said, his words hanging in the air between them. “I tried to move on, I really did. But no matter what, it always came back to you.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, blinking back tears. “I haven’t been able to move on either,” she whispered. “I thought… I thought maybe it was just me, that maybe I was holding onto something that was already gone.”

“It’s not gone,” Lando said firmly, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “It never was.”

For a long moment, they just sat there, holding each other’s gaze, holding each other’s hands, letting the weight of their feelings settle between them.

“I still love you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his thumb gently brushing against her skin. “I never stopped.”

-

The decision to get back together wasn’t made in that moment. They knew it wouldn’t be that simple. There were still challenges to face, still things they needed to figure out. But what they both knew for sure was that they couldn’t keep pretending anymore. They couldn’t keep acting like they were better off apart, because they weren’t. Not really.

The rest of that night was spent talking, laughing, and crying. They laid everything out on the table—the fears, the regrets, the hopes for the future. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was honest.

When they finally left the café, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and glistening under the soft glow of the streetlights. Lando walked her to her car, his hand never leaving hers. And when they reached it, he hesitated for a moment before pulling her into his arms.

“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured against her hair.

She smiled, burying her face in his chest. “Good. Because I don’t want to go.”

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?

— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji

gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)

“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.

the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.

“but if you keep up with that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.

“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”

“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.

“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.

“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”

“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”

gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.

“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t ya?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”

gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used the honorific with.

“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“

“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“

“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.

“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.

“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.

he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.

“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”

“that’s rude, toji is—“

“did you think you could change him or something?”

“i— no, why—“

“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.

“gojo, i swear—“

“was it the sex?”

you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.

“jackpot” satoru whispers.

“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.

“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.

“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”

“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.

gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.

“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”

“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.

“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”

“no!”

“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.

“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.

“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just waiting for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.

“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.

“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.

“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.

“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.

“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”

“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.

“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”

“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.

“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.

“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.

satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.

“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.

“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.

“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.

“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”

satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.

he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.

he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—

“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.

“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”

“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.

which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.

when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.

“desk, now” you demand needly.

“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.

you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.

you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.

“ask me” he pleads.

“for what?”

“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.

“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.

gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.

the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.

“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.

“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.

“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.

“unbelievable…”

“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.

“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.

he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.

his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.

“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.

the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.

or was it something else you feared?

“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.

“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”

“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.

“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.

“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.

“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.

“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.

“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.

“you’re not… on anything?”

“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”

“go on” gojo massages your thigh.

“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.

satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.

“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.

all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.

the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.

“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.

he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.

“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.

he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.

“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.

you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.

“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.

you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.

“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.

he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.

god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

if only…

“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.

after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”

“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.

“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.

you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”

“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.

gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.

a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.

gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.

“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.

gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.

“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.

on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.

“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”

“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.

“about… us? of course not.”

“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.

“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”

“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”

“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.

“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”

“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.

“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.

before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.

satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.

he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.