gaia

OH WHY’D YOU HAVE TO BE SO CUTE? IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU.

warning: heavily explicit smut.

i don’t rlly like this one but /wtv☹️

enjoy waterworks 🫪🫪

the text from payton came in the late afternoon like most of his messages did, casual and a little scattered after a long day of filming. your brother had built his youtube channel on real, unfiltered slices of life — the collabs, the endless editing sessions, the chaotic energy that came with chasing views in la. he and jordan huxhold had been best friends for years, the kind of bond forged through late shoots, shared takes, and quiet drives where they talked about everything and nothing. you were payton’s younger sister, the one who drifted in and out of that world, bringing coffee or snacks when you could, content to linger on the edges while cameras rolled and laughter bounced off the walls. but jordan had been noticing you for months now. his feelings had settled in deep, quiet and steady, growing in the small gaps between their collabs and the times you’d show up unannounced. you felt it too, a mad obsession that wrapped around your chest like one of lana’s slower songs, replaying the way his voice dropped when he said your name, the chemtrails of want cutting across every ordinary day.

that evening started ordinary enough. payton’s apartment was lived-in and comfortable, not some glossy setup, just a decent place with good natural light for filming, a couch that had seen too many late nights, and the faint smell of takeout lingering in the air. a handful of people from the shoot stuck around at first, talking gear and ideas, but one by one they headed out as the sky deepened outside the windows. payton crashed hard on the main couch around midnight, wiped out from hours in front of the lens and the endless editing grind, his snores soft in the background. you and jordan stayed up, the living room lit low by a single lamp and the scattered glow of the city filtering through the blinds. he sat across from you in a worn t-shirt and jeans, the fabric clinging to his frame after a full day, golden blonde hair a little messy from running his hands through it.

conversation drifted easy at first, the kind that happened after everyone else left. you talked about the video they’d been filming, about how payton had nailed a bit that had everyone cracking up, about the la traffic that never seemed to ease. but underneath it all, the air felt heavier, charged with months of careful glances and half-smiles when payton wasn’t looking. jordan’s blue eyes kept finding yours, steady and warm, holding a little longer each time. “you’ve been on my mind more than i probably should admit,” he said eventually, voice low, that familiar dry humor softening the edges. no big declaration, just honest in the quiet way he had. your heart picked up, obsession flaring hot because this was jordan, your brother’s best friend, the one whose presence always left you a little undone.

you moved closer on the couch without really deciding to, and he didn’t pull away. the first touch was tentative, his fingers brushing your knee, then lingering. when he leaned in, the kiss came slow, almost careful, like he was still turning over the complication in his head. but it deepened, his hand cupping the back of your neck, golden blonde strands falling across his forehead as he tilted his head. you tasted the faint salt of the long day on his lips, felt the solid warmth of him as your bodies shifted nearer. his blue eyes fluttered open for a moment when you parted, dark with want but still so full of that quiet love he’d been carrying.

things didn’t rush. you talked a little more in whispers, hands tracing lazy patterns on each other’s arms, stealing small kisses that built the ache between you. eventually he stood, offering his hand, and led you to the small guest room he sometimes used when shoots ran late. the space was simple, bed unmade from the night before, camera bags stacked neatly in the corner, soft light leaking through the blinds. clothes came off gradually, no frenzy, just the quiet rustle of fabric and shared breaths. his shirt slipped away first, revealing the lean, lived-in strength of his torso. his abs showed natural definition from runs through the hills and hauling gear, ridges shifting under smooth warm skin as he breathed. broad shoulders tapered down, golden blonde hair catching the low light at the nape of his neck.

jordan eased you onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs with that same focused attention he gave to framing a perfect shot. his mouth trailed up your legs, breath warm against your skin, before his tongue parted you. he licked slow and deliberate, long strokes from entrance to clit, circling gently then sucking just enough to pull soft sounds from your throat. two thick fingers slid inside, curling in a steady rhythm while his mouth worked you, wet sounds filling the quiet room. pleasure built low and deep, waves rolling through you until you came hard, thighs trembling around his shoulders.

he rose, pushing down the rest of his clothes. his body looked beautiful in the dim light, muscular chest rising with each breath, abs tightening as he moved closer. his cock stood heavy and flushed, thick with a slight upward curve, veins prominent along the shaft, the smooth head glistening. golden blonde hair fell into his blue eyes as he looked down at you, a subtle need showing in the way his breath caught when your hand wrapped around him. you stroked him slowly, feeling the velvety heat over hard length, and he let out a soft whimper, hips shifting forward just a touch, blue eyes half-lidded.

you guided him in. he pushed forward inch by inch, stretching you with that full, burning ache as his thick cock settled deep. his abs flexed with the movement, hips pressing flush against yours while he paused, forehead to yours, breathing uneven. “been wanting this for so long,” he whispered, voice rough but tender. then he began to move, deep rolls of his hips at first, dragging along every sensitive spot. sweat gathered lightly in the lines of his abs as the pace built, skin meeting skin with quiet slick sounds. one hand held your wrist gently above your head, the other gripping your thigh, his lean frame moving with controlled power. another soft whimper escaped him when you clenched around his length, blue eyes locking onto yours with open need.

you came again like that, pulsing tight around him, and he followed soon after, burying deep as he spilled inside, abs contracting with each pulse, a quiet shudder running through his muscular body.

the night lingered. later he turned you over, taking you from behind with strong hands steady on your hips, thick cock sliding back in deep. golden blonde hair brushed your shoulder as he leaned over you, abs flexing against your lower back with every thrust. his hand reached around to circle your clit, mouth near your ear murmuring how seeing you around payton had quietly torn him up, how much he felt for you. you rode him after, hands braced on his chest, sinking down slowly onto his cock. his abs tightened beneath your palms, a faint sheen of sweat tracing the natural lines, blue eyes watching you with that steady hunger and love, another soft whimper slipping out when you ground down just right.

near morning he pressed you against the wall by the window, ordinary street sounds beginning to stir outside. one hand rested lightly at your throat, gentle and present, while his body aligned with yours. he drove deeper, cock thick and relentless, golden blonde hair messy across his forehead, blue eyes dark and needy as pleasure built sharp between you. you shattered around him again, and he followed with a low, breathy sound against your neck.

afterward you lay tangled on the sheets, skin warm and sticky, his fingers tracing slow lines down your back. the complication sat there in the quiet — payton asleep down the hall, best friend and brother, the lines crossed in the dark. but jordan’s love felt real, built in stolen moments and quiet understanding. your obsession matched it completely.

he sees how tired you are so he kisses your forehead and rubs your thighs and massages your feet, tender and loving, his blue eyes brightened the room as he looked into your eyes. he pulls you into his lap and you two watch twilight, his favorite series. he smiles, completely love struck and dumb.

ogre, jordan’s cat jumps into your lap, and he stroked ogre’s chin, soft and tender.

50% daydreaming about plots and writing