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stargazsblog · 4 months ago

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how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.2 first move

ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.

ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.

ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

note: and the game begins…

masterlist

You were still thinking about the party as you got back to your apartment, shaking off the strange vibe that lingered after your conversation with Sukuna. He wasn’t exactly rude, but something about the way he talked, the way he acted so sure of himself, rubbed you the wrong way.

You threw your jacket over the back of your chair, saying goodnight to Shoko as she walked into her room. You plopped onto your bed, pulling your phone from your bag.

You opened Instagram, scrolling through posts finally loving the peace.

Until a notification popped up.

Sukuna Ryomen started following you.

You sat up in shock, staring at your screen. Sukuna had followed you?

Your thumb hovered over the notification, the tension building as you debated your next move. Block him? Ignore him? Or… stalk him?

The smarter choice would’ve been to block him, but knowing yourself, you clicked on his profile.

His account was exactly what you expected.

Post after post of candid photo, Sukuna at some party. A drink in his hand and his arm slung casually around a girl who looked like she’d won the lottery. Sukuna leaning against his car, looking like he’d stepped out of a magazine.

He had thousands of followers. The comments were full of heart emojis and flirty compliments. He had only followed 20 people, mostly his friends and family.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the growing curiosity. He didn’t follow anyone unless they were important, so… why was he following you?

Ignore it, you told yourself, he’ll get bored eventually.

As your stared at his profile, a second notification popped up.

Sukuna Ryomen sent your a message.

Your stomach flipped.

2:40AM Sukuna Ryomen: took you long enough to notice me

You scowled, your fingers itching to respond. He was so full of himself that it was almost comical.

2:40AM You: is this part of some weird social experiment?

His reply came almost instantly.

2:40AM Sukuna Ryomen: what me following you? nah just curious

2:41AM You: curious about what?

2:41AM Sukuna Ryomen: about what kind of stuff you post don’t worry i won’t judge… much

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against your headboard. the nerve of this guy.

2:41AM You: wow, lucky me

2:41AM Sukuna Ryomen: relax sweetheart i’m just here to see if you’re as boring online as you are in person

Your jaw dropped. He had to be kidding. You stared at the screen, debating weather to let the conversation die or put him in his place.

2:42AM You: bold words for someone who posts the same three poses over and over

This time, there was a pause before replying. When it came it was shorter than you expected.

2:42AM Sukuna Ryomen: touché

For a moment, you almost smiled.

2:42AM You: now that you’ve satisfied your “curiosity” you can go ahead and unfollow me

2:42AM Sukuna Ryomen: nah i’ll stick around

You sighed, swiping away from his message leaving him on seen. You stared at the screen, the notification still visible: Sukuna Ryomen started following you.

You glanced at his profile one more time. The same images, the same cocky smirk in every picture.

With a deep breath, you pressed follow back.

For a moment nothing happened, you set your phone down and let out a slow exhale, almost feeling dumb for replying to him.

Just as you were about to close the app and convince yourself it doesn’t matter, your phone buzzed.

2:50AM Sukuna Ryomen: i knew you couldn’t resist

You rolled your eyes, a smile hugging at the corner of your lips.

2:50AM You: don’t get too cocky

2:50AM Sukuna Ryomen: too late already am

2:50AM You: your unbearable

2:50AM Sukuna Ryomen: only when i’m around you

You stared at the screen, for a moment, unsure how to respond. He was good at this, good at getting under your skin, making you react, and you had to admit it was starting to feel like he wasn’t just messing around.

2:51AM You: we’ll see how long that lasts

2:51AM: Sukuna Ryomen: i’ll be around as long as you let me.

A little shiver ran down your spine at his words, but you pushed it aside. You weren’t ready to admit how much you were starting to look forward to whatever this way.

Sukuna was following you everywhere. You meant it everywhere.

It doesn’t matter if you were grabbing a coffee, sitting in class, or heading to the library, whatever you were doing he was there. Sometimes he would be leaning against the wall, staring at you as you walked by, other times he would be scrolling through his phone like he just happened to be in the same place.

At first, you thought it was a coincidence. After all, it wasn’t like you owned the campus. But by the fourth time in a single day? Yeah, no. He was definitely following you.

You were midway through highlighting your notes when the chair across from you scraped against the floor. The sudden sound made you glance up, and there he was. Sukuna Ryomen.

“Are you stalking me now?” you asked, glancing back to your notes.

“Stalking is a strong word,” Sukuna's voice drawled, too close for comfort. “We just happen to be in the same place at the same time.”

You sighed, as you spun back to face him, he’s leaning back casually on the chair, one arm draped over the chair next to him.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

You crossed your arms. “Pretty sure we already had that conversation. Last night.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Yeah, but you didn’t say anything interesting, figured I’d give you another chance.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.” there was something about the way he was staring at you, like you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. “Why are you even bothering me? you’ve got half of the campus eating out your hand, and i’m not interested in joining the club.”

Sukuna leaned forward, just enough to make your knees touch. “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t care.” his tone was softer now, the change caught you off guard.

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “how tragic for you.”

he grinned. “See that’s why I like you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding harder than you wanted to admit. What was he even talking about? he didn’t know you.

“You don’t even know me,” you said, your voice quieter now.

“Not yet,” he said simply, as if the answer was obvious.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to do.” you said bluntly, closing your notebook with a snap.

You stood up, gathering your things quickly, but Sukuna wasn’t done. As you walked away, his voice followed you. “See you around, sweetheart.”

“I’m telling you, he’s obsessed. First, he’s showing up wherever you are, second, he’s following you on Instagram. classic Sukuna move.” Shoko says as you guys are seated at a small table in the student lounge.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, and now he’s everywhere I go. It’s like he’s trying to prove something.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow. “Maybe he is. I mean, it’s Sukuna. He doesn’t exactly follow people around for no reason.”

You scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? He follows around half the campus trying to get in their pants.”

“Yeah, but those girls usually throw themselves at him. You…” Shoko gestures vaguely at you. “…don’t. He’s probably intrigued.”

you snort. “Well, he’s wasting his time. I’m not interested.”

Before Shoko can respond, Sukuna’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Ouch. That hurts.”

Both of you look up as Sukuna strolls over, his signature smirk firmly in place. He’s holding a small paper bag in one hand, the other resting casually in his pocket.

Shoko grins and leans back in her chair, clearly ready to enjoy whatever’s about to happen.

“Talking about me?” His voice carries just the right amount of smugness as he stops by your table. “I can feel the love from here.”

You glare up at him, unimpressed. “Love? please your delusional.”

Ignoring your sarcasm, Sukuna slides the bag closer to you. “Here. Thought you’d like this.”

You looked at the bag like it might explode. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“Open it,” Sukuna says, leaning back in his chair, watching you carefully.

You side-eyed him before reaching for the bag, you’re fingerings brushing against the paper as you peek inside. Your favorite snacks are in there.

You looked up at him confused. “How did you know these are my favorite?”

Sukuna shrugs like it’s no big deal, “I have my ways.”

You narrowed your eyes, a mix of suspicion and frustration bubbling up inside you. “That’s not an answer. Are you really stalking me?” It all felt too strange to ignore. First, he found your Instagram without you ever mentioning it. Then, he seemed to show up wherever you were. What was next—was he going to start lurking outside your house?

He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt. “Stalk you? What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You don’t buy it for a second. “The kind who’s trying way too hard.”

“Or the kind who pays attention,” Sukuna counters smoothly, his voice dropping a fraction as he leans forward.

The words hang in the air for a moment, and even Shoko raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the show.

You stiffen but recover quickly, crossing your arms again. “You really think this is going to work? Snacks and flirty comments?”

“It’s a start,” Sukuna says with a lazy grin, standing up. “By the way, there’s a party tomorrow night. You should come.”

You don’t hesitate. “Not interested.”

Sukuna shrugs, completely unbothered by the rejection. “I wasn’t asking. I’ll see you there.”

He winks, turning and walking away without waiting for your response

Shoko finally speaks, her tone laced with curiosity. “What was that?”

You rolled your eyes, stuffing the bag into your tote. “Nothing. He’s only doing this to try to get me into his bed. It’s his thing.”

Shoko studies you for a moment, her voice thoughtful. “I don’t know. That didn’t seem like that to me.”

You huff, shoving your drink away. “Whatever. I’m not falling for it.”

Shoko grins, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You don’t have to fall for anything. But we’re going to that party.”

Your head snaps up. “What? No, we’re not.”

“Oh, yes, we are.” Shoko pulls her chair back, already starting to walk away. “I need to see where this goes. Plus, free drinks. You’re coming, no arguments.”

You groaned, grabbing your things to follow her. “You’re the worst.”

“And you love me for it,” Shoko calls over her shoulder, grinning.

Sukuna didn’t realize how hard this was going to be. Day one of the challenge, and you were already proving to be unlike anyone he’d dealt with before.

It was frustrating and intriguing.

He had done his research, of course. Stalking your social media was step one, but even that had been harder than he expected. Your profiles were understated. No attention-seeking selfies, no overly revealing posts. Just snapshots of books, obscure playlists, and the occasional candid photo with friends.

“I can’t figure her out,” he had muttered late one night, scrolling through your feed for what felt like the hundredth time.

That’s when he realized he needed help.

“You really don’t know anything about her?” Geto had asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back against Sukuna’s desk.

“She’s invisible,” Sukuna muttered, tossing his phone onto the table. “No parties, no drama, no clue what she’s into. It’s like she’s living on a different planet.”

Geto smirked. “Sounds like someone’s not used to working for it.”

Sukuna shot him a glare, but Geto just shrugged. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

The next day, Geto cornered Shoko during a break between classes. He made it look casual, of course just two old friends catching up. But Geto had a knack for reading people, and Shoko wasn’t hard to crack.

“She’s into the little things,” Shoko had said, blowing out a puff of smoke from her cigarette. “You know, stuff that actually matters. Like, she’s not going to fall for some big, flashy gesture. She likes thoughtful things her favorite snacks, a good book, stuff like that.”

By the time Geto reported back, Sukuna had a plan. It was subtle, sure, but he could work with that.

After handing you the snacks, He strolled back to his usual spot with Gojo and Geto, settling down next to them with a frustrated sigh.

“So, any luck with her?” Gojo asked, not missing a beat.

Sukuna set his drink down, running a hand through his hair as he slouched in his chair. “Not as easy as I thought. You guys are right—no amount of flashing a smile and throwing out my usual charm is going to work on her.”

Geto smirked, leaning forward. “She’s in your head, huh?”

Gojo chuckled, propping his chin on his hand. “This is new. Sukuna Ryomen, struggling to win over a girl? What’s next, you’re gonna write her a love poem?”

Sukuna shot them both a glare, his jaw tightening. “Laugh it up,” he muttered. “But I’m not backing down.”

Geto raised a brow. “You sound almost impressed.”

“Maybe I am,” Sukuna said, a glint of determination sparking in his eyes. “And maybe that’s what makes this fun. I invited her to the party.”

Geto and Gojo both blinked, momentarily stunned by Sukuna’s straightforwardness.

“You invited her to the party?” Gojo asked, leaning forward in surprise. “Bold move. What’s the plan there? Just charm her in front of the whole crowd?”

Sukuna shrugged, but there was something sharper in his expression now. “It will work. I don’t think she’s the type to fall for a big scene, but if I show her I’m not like the others, she’ll bite eventually.”

Gojo chuckled. “You’re really going for the slow burn, huh?”

“Exactly.” Sukuna’s lips curved into a confident grin. “She won’t see it coming.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You’ve got, what, few more days to make this work? Good luck, man.”

Sukuna smirked, not looking away from you as you stood up, chatting with Shoko. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

Later that night, you were lying in bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, trying to forget the strange encounter with Sukuna earlier. Your mind kept drifting back to the way he’d smiled when he handed you your favorite snack, the way his eyes seemed to linger on you just a second too long.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen, and your stomach flipped when you saw his name. Hesitating for a moment, you opened the message.

11:30PM Sukuna Ryomen: hope i see you at the party tomorrow sweetheart wouldn’t be the same without you

Attached to the text was the party’s address.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the pillow beside you. Why did he have to be so persistent? And You told yourself you wouldn’t go—there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction.

But as you stared at the message again, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go.

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ladybyakuya · 10 months ago

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| I WISH YOU ROSES + KAIJU NUMBER 8.

+cw. —f!reader, smut headcanon + scenarios format, sort of exs to lovers, mature content, angst and hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, established relationship

+syn.— making amends after the fight. who apologizes first? does it always end up with sex? or is he sleeping on the couch tonight?

+wc. —1.5k

+notes. — wanted it to be super smutty but ended up with angst instead. enjoy and scream in tags if you like it| redirect to blog navigation.

→ [ ICHIKAWA RENO ]

reno would stare at the screen of his mobile phone opening your message box yet not send a single text to you. he is a little stubborn. in the spur of the moment, he said, “maybe we had nothing, to begin with in the first place.” those were some heavy words. he won't disagree. even liquor isn't enough to drown his feelings about you. why do people drink to forget their love anyway? it's stupid. it's so stupid. he locks his phone and then buries his head in his hands murmuring, “god why can't I just call her?" the rusty fizzy flavor is threatening his throat again. his phone starts to vibrate and rings a little later making him jump a bit but his reflexes were quick enough not to get you a first full ring. “hello? babe? is that you?”

“just call her man.” Iharu drawls from the other side and disconnects the call even though he sits opposite him. Reno looks at him ungodly pissed until the prior speaks up, “don’t waste your anger on me, dude.” Reno’s phone rings again.

“you’re doing this on purpose, aren't you picking on me?” Reno tartly responds holding his phone towards him so sure about that Iharu is doing it again but that dimwit is so drunk that he has to lean forward, squint his eyes at the screen.

“no dudee. It's your girl—” Reno picks up the phone but he doesn't speak.

“are you at a bar right now? i just finished my work.”

“yes, I’m. can I go pick you up?”

“of’course you can but I got a cab. bye. text me the address.”

When you reach at the bar you could easily spot him. He is sitting at the corner in a secluded area. Ofcourse he is. Then, there is Iharu practically drooling on the table.

“why are you here?”

“what do you mean why I'm here? You texted the address.”

“yes but aren't you angry? At me?”

“yes but I know better than to take you seriously when you are that angry. ” he looks away from your face. “we can talk about it if you are still upset.” he shoots you a lazy smile and gets up.

“what about him?”

“what about who?” reno asks with pinched eyebrows.

Iharu’s snores are quite loud by now. You look at Reno holding your hand out. He doesn't protest. He gives you his phone and says his passcode. He gets you. His words are not drawly but rather slower than usual. At first, you intend to call Kafka but both of them being a pain in the ass you texted his vice-captain.

The can ride from bar to home was silent. Reno was laying his head down on your shoulder, eyes closed but a little fidgeting was there every now and then. As soon as you reach your apartment complex he got out, even leant against the wall while being on the elevator. He's sulking. It's adorable sometimes. When you reach your shared apartment he doesn't come in stands outside until you ask him to.

“i’m sorry.” reno says loud enough to kick out the drowsiness out of his body. “i'm sorry, babe.”

“well, it was partly my fault too but —” you grab his collar and pull him towards yourself. his defense system is useless against you. “but I'm going to make it memorable.” you say unbuckling his pants. As soon as his trousers hit the floor Reno closes the door with a kick while you go to your knees. “perhaps we should fight more,”

With his member in your hand you look up at him and then blink. once. twice. thrice. And then get up and walk inside your room. A few seconds of silence and then Reno is walking on your trail left by you apologizing for a few more times until you just shut him up with the most sloppiest toe curling blow job.

→ [ GEN NARUMI ]

“do not walk away from me. I'm not done talking yet.” Narumi's voice is perfectly flat devoid any splotch of anger or even frustration. he is leaning against the door as you move from kitchen counter to the dinning table carrying the dishes, then cooked meals and a water bottle. his eyes are going back and forth waiting for you to say something, anything or just yell at him. he can handle your blood and tears, not this silent treatment.

“well, don't treat me like I'm one of your missions and we are good.” you exclaim with a low voice while waving a hand as if you were talking to yourself but actually you just wanted to beckon him for dinner.

“i don't us to be just good. I want us to be better, to be comfortable in each other's presence, even in thoughts. . .” and now he is going to lecture you, like one of his subordinates. there is an agonizingly awful silence filling the room as you wait for him to continue but he is just there, standing, still silent.

you turn your chair to spare a look at him. his stance is still the same, lazy and nonchalant. he isn't mocking you or your love for him. he genuinely cares for you.

“i mean it.” he starts walking towards you in faster pace than usual. “and you know that.” he stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. the moment you leave your seat he is going to pounce on you like a wounded animal. this has happened before and last time it hurt a lot. so you don't get up instead just turn around to eat.

He grabs your wrist before you can even touch the food. “I said we’re not done talking.” he almost yells. seeing you flinch he sighs deeply before he gets on his knees and rests his head on your lap. “we submit are phones after turning it off. that's why I didn't know— that you were coming early from work. we work in different departments so we have different rules too. you can ask around. they'll tell you.”

“why didn't you say that earlier? was the whole fight really necessary?” you said with utter frustration laced underneath your voice.

“shouldn’t i at least get the benefit of doubt?” he looks at you placing his chin on your thighs.

you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes. “yes but — umm— never mind.” you say running your thumb over his lips. he graces a glance at you before running his hands on your back tracing up to your shoulders, he is crouching now and then pull away your top. now you're naked and sitting on a chair as he is standing. he throws the top away and sits on his knees again. hooking his arms around your calf muscles he licks in between your legs. “this is payback.” he whispers. your panty is still on and all Narumi is doing is licking slowly over the cloth, sometimes barely touching but if this is the payback you don't mind it at all, unlike last time.

→ [ HOSHINA SOSHIRO ]

Hoshina is the one who gives you the silent treatment even if he is at fault. He doesn't want his anger to harm you in any way, be it due to you or due to himself. He is not much of an angry person to begin with but somehow he just loses it for you. Maybe that's his protective instinct for you or the fear of melting the cocoon he created for his own protection. Either way, it's frustrating. It's frustrating enough that he keeps telling you how you should not put yourself in danger to protect him in a field mission yet you keep disobeying him at every mission. Either you are mocking him or trying to take his position which by the way both are wrong given the fact that you are his subordinate. He sat on one of the benches in the training room. he is too frustrated to concentrate on training.

“you know, you can let your anger out right? on me?”

Hoshina looks at you, pupils ever so still like a moonlight pond on a windless night. That's exactly what he doesn't want. don't you get that? you're wearing your night dress not your suit, which means you were either waiting for him or going to bed.

“i'm not mad at you.” he sighs. “not even myself. just at the situation in general. i know it's your instinct to protect people but sometimes . . .” he trails off looking at his fisted hand. he unfists his hand again.

“i can take it all, you know?. be it your love or anger. . .” Hoshina looks at you keeping his bottle aside. he swallows before leaving his place and dragging you inside the training room, the door still not closed.

“are you sure about that my love?” he graces his hands in between your thighs while whispering. you give him a nod. “let's see how long you last.” as his hand rubs against your entrance his mouth starts to suckle over your nipples as his other hand pins both of your hands above your head. the night suddenly feels long and breezy.

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 27 days ago

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10: UNDER THE SURFACE

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Summary: You’re nervously preparing to meet Bucky’s friends for his birthday and give him a personal gift. As you head to the restaurant with Bucky, you’re introduced to Sam and Torres, who tease Bucky while making you feel welcome. Things get tense when your ex shows up at the bar, making unwelcome advances and insults. Bucky steps in, showing his protective side.

Warnings: Strong language and insults, violence/threats, brief reference to past trauma/loss, unwanted touch and inappropriate comments from Leonard

Word Count: 5504

Something inside you held your hand back. It was poised and ready to rap against Bucky’s front door, but you paused. Anxiety. Would Bucky like your gift? Were you ready to meet his friends? You took a deep breath and let your body move on autopilot, cutting off the messages from your brain which would be liable to leave you paralyzed forever.

You gripped the small velvet box tightly in your hand. It felt heavier than it should. It didn’t take long for Bucky to answer the door, revealing a half dressed super soldier. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans and had one sock in his hand. You glanced down to see that its partner was on his foot.

“You’re early,” he frowned.

“Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to talk before we left. Is that okay?” you asked.

“What’s that?” he responded with his own question, completely ignoring your own.

“A gift,” you said shyly, stepping inside when he moved to let you pass. “For your birthday.”

Bucky looked surprised and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” You handed him the box, feeling even more anxious now. “It’s personal… so if you wanted to open it now rather than at the party…”

He looked down at the box, then back at you, sitting down beside you on his couch. Bucky opened the box. Inside was a black and gold bracelet, its design subtly mimicking the intricate pattern of his vibranium arm. His name— James Buchanan Barnes— was engraved on the inner surface.

Bucky stared at it for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

“I… I remember you said…” you muttered, trying to fill the growing silence, “that you don’t have your dog tags anymore. I thought maybe... this could be a reminder of who you are. All of you. Not just the soldier, or the Winter Soldier, but James, too.”

He blinked and looked up at her, his blue eyes startlingly bright. “Princess...”

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” you added quickly, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. “I just thought—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice was soft but firm. “It’s perfect.”

He slipped the bracelet onto his right wrist, where it settled snugly against his skin. He twisted his arm, studying the way it looked against the black and gold of his vibranium. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he looked back at you, and his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, your own smile blooming as the tension in your chest eased. “Looks good on you.”

Bucky tugged on his sock, still glancing down at the bracelet on his wrist as though he needed to remind himself it was real. His fingers brushed over the engraved lettering, his name carved into the metal as though reclaiming something he’d thought lost.

“You really see people,” he murmured again, almost to himself, and it made your chest swell with an odd mix of pride and affection.

You smiled and looked back at him. The bracelet, snug against his wrist, looked like it had always belonged there.

After a moment of silence, Bucky cleared his throat. “You know...” He hesitated, his fingers still grazing the metal. “This... what you made... I bet other people might like it, too.” His voice was cautious, like he was testing the idea aloud for the first time and wasn’t sure how you’d take it.

You tilted your head with surprise. “You think so?”

He nodded slowly, not meeting your eyes. “Yeah. Not the same, obviously.” He gestured vaguely with his vibranium hand. “But... something personal. Something that feels like... them.”

Your mouth dropped open, totally caught off guard by the suggestion, even more so because it was coming from Bucky. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this before, but it had always been a gift idea for someone you cared about. Not once had you considered that it would be something you could do for others. “That’s... actually a really good idea.”

Bucky glanced at you hesitantly. “I mean, only if you want to. But maybe just don’t... mention me?”

“Of course not. But... would you mind if I took a picture of you wearing it?” you asked tentatively, biting your lip softly. “Just your arm, nothing else. I’d love to get feedback from my followers, see what the interest is like for custom pieces.”

Bucky looked down thoughtfully, his expression somewhat guarded and you rushed to clarify.

“It’s totally fine if you’re not comfortable. I can just describe it or post the sketch instead.”

He exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over the bracelet again. “Just my arm?”

“Just your arm,” you promised, pulling out your phone. “Deal?”

He placed his right arm in his lap in implied consent, and you quickly framed the shot, focusing on the bracelet, as the black and gold gleamed in the light, the engraving hidden but the design standing out against his skin.

“Perfect,” you smiled, lowering your phone. “Thank you, Buck. This means a lot.”

“Yeah, well...” He looked away, scratching his beard. “I think it’s a good thing. People deserve to feel like they’ve got something that’s... theirs.”

Your heart swelled at his words. His approval seemed genuine, not just a clause of your contract. You glanced down at the photo again, admiring how the piece on his wrist really popped against the dark background of his jeans. You uploaded the image to your feed with the caption: “Every piece has a story, and I’d love to help tell yours. Would you be interested in custom jewelry options?”

“Shall we go?” Bucky asked, standing up. He grabbed the leather jacket which was draped over the back of the couch.

“Yeah, sure.” You followed his lead, not missing the way he carefully pulled his sleeve over the bracelet so that he wouldn’t disturb the way it sat on his wrist.

The restaurant was warm and surprisingly lively, a welcome relief to the bitterly cold weather outside. Bucky was at your side, his hand hovering on your lower back in a show of support. Both of you had decided on the ride over that your act would have to start before you entered because anyone could be watching.

You’d been right, Sam and Torres were waiting near the entrance, their smiles bright and welcoming.

“Buck! Look who decided to show up! Happy Birthday, man!” Sam said, clapping Bucky on the shoulder before turning to you with an appraising grin. “And this must be the better half.” He offered his arms out in a hug which you returned shyly.

“I’m not quite sure about better,” you laughed. “Maybe the half with less attitude.”

Torres laughed, extending his hand. “I like her already.”

Bucky muttered something unintelligible under his breath but didn’t protest when Sam and Torres ushered you both toward a table near the back. He grabbed your hand and dragged you along, keeping you close to his side like his own personal shield against the merriment.

As the evening unfolded, you got to know Sam and Torres a little better. They treated you like they had known you for years, taking it in turns to tease Bucky and make you feel welcome.

“Anyone who can put up with him must be an angel.”

“Oh very far from it, Joaquin!”

“So,” Sam cut in, leaning towards you with an easy smile, “tell us about yourself, Y/N. What’s your story?”

“Sam,” Bucky said darkly in warning.

“What? Gotta get to know the potential sister-in-law!”

Bucky already looked like he was going to explode but you leaned against him, giving him a small nudge. “Not much to tell,” you said, wrapping Bucky’s vibranium arm around your waist. “Grew up with my grandma. Studied art and design, and now I live opposite this grump and pay the rent by designing jewelry. But you know the last part, seeing as you’ve already stalked my Instagram.”

Sam laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Caught red-handed. I had to make sure Bucky wasn’t just making you up to get us off his back.”

You laughed, a mild hint of panic in your tone. “Well, as you can see, I’m very much real.”

Torres joined in on your laughter. “You’ve got some serious talent though,” he said earnestly. “That bracelet with the stars was my favorite. Amazing work.”

“Thanks,” you blushed. “That was inspired by my grandma, actually. She used to love the stars. Every night she would tell me a story about the different constellations. She said that the stars reminded her of how, even in the darkest night, there was light to guide you. So, when she died a few years ago, I designed that one in her honor.”

The three men fell silent for a moment, moved by your tribute.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam said quietly, while Torres nodded beside him, echoing the sentiment.

You felt a pang of sadness for a moment, the pain quickly softened by the way Bucky’s hand wrapped around yours, his fingers weaving between yours. You looked up at him, his face inches away from yours. He wore a concerned expression, his eyes searching yours. It wasn’t a subject you had broached during your prep for the charade. You gave his fingers a quick squeeze, offering him a small smile of reassurance, telling him you were okay. Despite this, his arm tightened around you protectively like a guard dog.

Sam cleared his throat, breaking the solemn moment and lightening the mood with a grin. “Well, your grandma sounds like she was an incredible lady. Explains where you get all your charm.”

“Yeah,” Torres added, smirking. “And it also explains how you put up with this one.” He jerked his thumb toward Bucky, who gave him an unimpressed glare in return.

“Trust me, dealing with him is a pleasure… every time.”

Bucky choked on his beer as you responded and you patted his back while Sam laughed at a blushing Torres. You looked up at Bucky, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His ears were red and his expression painted a picture of incredulity and something else— something more intense. His lips twitched, as though he was searching for something to say, but no words came from his mouth.

“You okay there, birthday boy?” you teased.

The look Bucky was giving you was disarming; there was an icy fire behind those blue eyes which you’d never seen before. A smirk graced his lips as he leaned down to your ear, his voice low enough so only you could hear. “Careful, doll. Keep this up, and I might forget which parts of this are for show.”

The deep timbre of his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you, his words dancing across the line between playful and dangerously serious. Bucky pulled back to meet your gaze, as if daring you to respond. But before you could, Sam clapped his hands together, interrupting the moment.

“All right, lovebirds, save it for later! I wanna know more about your girl.”

“More?” you asked jokingly. “Wow, nobody expects the Spanish inquisition!”

Sam laughed but leaned onto the table. “Oh baby, we’re just getting started. Gotta make sure you’re good enough for our guy, here.”

You leaned in, undeterred by the insinuation. “Good enough for him?” you answered, your hand over your chest and voice filled with mock offense. “This guy was at my door practically every day begging me for a shot at this,” you waved your hands over your body with a flourish.

“Begged, huh?” Bucky smirked.

Turning to Bucky, you smiled back. “Absolutely! You might as well have been out there on your hands and knees. Just couldn’t resist my charm.”

“You make it sound like I had no choice.”

“Oh, trust me,” you shot back with a widening grin, “you didn’t.”

“You two need to keep it in your pants; this place’s meant to be family friendly!”

Sam shook his head while you and Torres laughed. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his grip on your hip tightened slightly.

“Okay, real talk—” Torres sobered up and leaned towards you. “Do you have any single friends? You know, someone who might appreciate a guy like me?”

You tilted your head, with a look of intense concentration as you pretended to consider his request. “Hmmm, a guy like you? That’s a pretty tall order.”

“Hey, come on, I’m totally a catch!” Torres insisted, feigning a look of outrage. “Good looks, charming, muscles, and excellent taste in friends!” He pointed at Sam and Bucky, earning a scoff from the latter.

“Well,” you teased, “I do have a couple of friends, but you're not their type.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” Torres replied, winking.

“I’m not sure Hanna and Aditi are your type, plus they are both taken… by each other.”

“Ah, the paint champs, right?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Torres knew he had slipped up.

You frowned, you hadn’t mentioned paintballing to Bucky. “That’s some heavy duty stalking you guys have been doing there, huh?”

Sam raised his hands and laughed. “Hey, it’s harmless curiosity. Gotta know who’s dating our guy.”

Bucky groaned. “I thought I told you to be subtle.”

“Harmless, huh? Good thing I only have to turn on the TV to dig up dirt on you guys. So, I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

“So these girls are your partners in crime?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, they’re… my family,” you said with a fond smile. “Been through everything together— puberty, high school, camp, college, questionable relationships, terrible fashion choices. You name it, we survived it.”

Sam grinned. “Sounds like the kind of friends who’d know where the skeletons are buried.”

“They wouldn’t just know,” you teased. “They’d be the ones helping me bury the bodies.”

Torres chuckled. “Now that’s loyalty. What’re they like?”

“Hanna’s the free spirit,” you explained. “She kind of goes where the wind takes her, which is hilarious because Aditi is the opposite— she’s wound a little tight. Super organized, loves a good plan. Honestly, I think Hanna’s ‘whatever happens, happens�� attitude drives Aditi up the wall sometimes.”

“Yeah, opposites attract.”

You laughed, leaning slightly into Bucky. “Yeah, kind of like me and this one.” You reached up and lightly tickled Bucky’s chin, drawing a rare smile as he rolled his eyes with mock exasperation.

Sam’s grin widened. “Sounds like you’ve got a solid crew. What’re their families like? Must’ve been interesting growing up around all those dynamics.”

Bucky frowned at Sam, narrowing his eyes questioningly, but Sam pressed on casually without acknowledging his friend’s pointed stares.

“Oh they’re a colorful mix,” you said, glancing between them. “Hanna’s family is just her and her mom. They’re really close since her dad left when she was ten. And Aditi’s family? Traditional Indian parents. They were strict about her education and, of course, boys.” You chuckled softly. “They were pretty shocked when she came out, but they adjusted. Her dad, especially, was super open and supportive.”

“Sounds like they’ve got good people backing them up,” Sam said, his voice warm but still probing.

“They do. And they’ve been just as generous to me and Hanna,” you said with a smile. “Aditi’s parents always included us in their holiday parties, made us feel like family too.”

Bucky’s hand lightly brushed yours under the table, a small, supportive gesture, but his gaze flicked between you and Sam, his instincts clearly still on edge. Sam, however, just nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable.

“Must be pretty well off to invite everyone to the party.”

“Yeah, Aditi’s dad is an accountant. Never really understood what it is that he does, but he works at some big company,” you said with a shrug. “Honestly, I’ve never really asked. Numbers and I don’t exactly get along.”

You paused for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But he’s always been really generous with his time. He’s the one who helped me set up my business and gave me advice on managing my taxes. Even now, if I have a question, he’s just a phone call away.”

“That’s solid,” Sam said, nodding approvingly. “Sounds like he’s got your back.”

“Yeah, he’s kinda been like a father figure for all of us,” you admitted, your voice softening. “‘Cause Hanna and I haven’t really had anyone like that.”

You didn’t catch the flicker of sadness that crossed Sam’s face, but Bucky’s eagle eyes didn’t miss the muscle twitch. He knew Sam far too well not to know that there was more to this interrogation than simple curiosity.

“Hey, doll?” Bucky leaned in, brushing his lips near your ear to make it look affectionate, but he kept his voice casual. “Think you could grab us another round?”

You raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle hint that Bucky wanted to speak with Sam and Torres alone. “Wow, delegating this early in our relationship. You’re walking a fine line, Birthday Boy.”

Bucky pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, making you blush. “I’ll owe you for this,” he whispered.

Bucky watched you saunter over to the bar, looking away as soon as he realized that he was enjoying the way your hips swayed from side to side. He turned back to Sam with an accusatory stare.

“What gives?” he demanded.

“What’s wrong, Buck?” Sam asked with feigned innocence.

“You know exactly what I mean? What are you two up to?”

“Not here, Buck. Now’s not the time,” Sam dropped his voice. “I don’t want you worrying until we know there is something to worry about.”

“Is she in danger?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s not good enough, Sam,” Bucky growled.

“We’ll let you know if there’s something to tell.”

As you leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish up your order, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. A familiar voice slurred behind you, dripping with false charm and too much alcohol. You felt as if someone had poured a glass of ice cold water over your soul.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite heartbreaker,” Leonard drawled, his grin smug and unsteady as he swayed slightly. “Fancy running into you here. You’re looking as stunning as ever, babe.”

You looked over your shoulder, hoping against hope that you were mistaken. Leonard’s tie was loose, and his usually immaculate hair was tousled in a way that you had only seen after certain intimate activities. He was leaning far too close to you, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey.

“Leonard,” you said, your nose crinkled with disgust. You took a step back to put more space between you. “This is a… surprise.”

Leonard’s grin widened at your reaction, completely oblivious to the fact that his presence was repulsive to you. His eyes gleamed with a combination of arrogance and alcohol-fueled confidence.

“Where’s the surprise, babe? I’d call it fate. Bringing us together,” he replied, his voice dropping with entitled flirtation. “Been thinking about you.”

“Oh really?” Your tone couldn’t have any less enthusiasm if you tried.

“It always comes back to us, you and me. I mean, I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye the last time I saw you. So this seems like kismet.”

You scoffed derisively but Leonard didn’t seem to notice. “I’m pretty sure you were the one who walked out on me.”

His eyes narrowed at the memory, a flicker of anger passing through him before his smirk returned, even though it looked a little forced. “And who’s fault was that? But I’m willing to be the bigger man here, I mean, you know you miss me.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you.” You cringed and tried to move further away, but out of nowhere Leonard’s hand slid to your waist. His touch was hot, and not in a good way. “I don’t miss anything about you, Leonard. And get your hand off me.”

He chuckled darkly, ignoring your protests. “Come on, don’t be like that. We had something good, you and me. Bet no one’s measured up in that department since. Go on, admit it, babe— no one knows you like I do.”

Before you could answer with a retort, Leonard’s hand slid down to your hip and around to your ass.

“Let go,” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger and disgust as you tried to push him away. But Leonard just tightened his grip, pulling you closer.

“Hey!”

The word was not said as a shout; in fact, it was relatively quiet, but the force behind it cut the air like a knife. Bucky was standing behind you, his face remained impassive, but the fire behind his blue eyes burned with a barely bottled rage. “You heard her. Let go.”

Leonard sneered, slowly and reluctantly dropping his hand. But he didn’t step back. “Oh, look who it is,” he said, his voice mocking. “The neighbor. Gotta say, you move fast, babe. First me, now this guy? What’s the tally at, now? How many notches on that belt of yours, huh? Quite the little slut, aren’t you?”

His words hit you like a slap on the face, they made your breath catch and your eyes burn. You felt dirty, exposed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. But before you could react, Bucky stepped in front of you, positioning himself between you and Leonard.

“Watch your mouth.” His voice was low… lethal.

For a second, Leonard faltered, but his drunken bravado flared and he puffed out his chest. His lip curled into a contemptuous smirk. “And what’re you gonna do about it, Sergeant? Huh? You think you’re tough? Come on, try it.” Leonard held out his hands as an invitation for Bucky to make a move.

Bucky gently pushed you further backwards out of harm's way. “Careful, doll. This guy’s trying to be brave.”

Bucky turned back in time to see Leonard pull his arm back. He swung, a wild, clumsy punch aimed at Bucky’s jaw. Bucky didn’t even flinch. He stepped to the side with ease and grace, allowing Leonard’s momentum to carry him straight to the floor.

“Idiot,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. He turned back to you, his face softening as he saw your shaken expression. “Come on, doll. You don't need to see this.”

But before you had taken one step, Leonard shouted after you, his voice slurred, and his hair completely disheveled. “You think you’re better than me? Huh? Think you’re better off with this murderer? You’ll come crawling back, you always do!”

Bucky let out a slow, controlled breath and let go of your arms before turning back to Leonard. He crossed the short distance between them in two strides and grabbed Leonard by the shirt and hauled him to his feet with shocking ease. He brushed off Leonard’s wrinkled suit jacket, straightened his tie with exaggerated care and then leaned in close to speak to Leonard. His voice was low enough that you couldn’t make out Bucky’s words.

Whatever it was that Bucky said made the color drain from Leonard’s face. His bravado vanished, his mouth opening and closing silently. Without uttering another word, Leonard stumbled away, disappearing from the restaurant.

Bucky turned back to you, his expression softening instantly. His hands came to your shoulders, steady and reassuring. “You okay?” he asked gently.

You nodded but the lump in your throat was too firmly lodged to let you speak. The tears you’d been holding back felt like they were ready to break the dam. Sensing your distress, Bucky pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your ear. “I’ve got you.”

Even after you’d had a chance to compose yourself, Bucky’s hands lingered on your shoulders. His gaze searched yours with furrowed brows of concern. “Why don’t we just get out of here?” he suggested. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to deal with this anymore tonight.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by the offer. “Bucky, I can’t just leave. Sam and Torres put so much effort into this. It’d be rude to just take off.”

“Doll,” he interrupted gently, his voice dropping lower, “I don’t care about them right now. I care about you.” His thumb brushed along your arm in a comforting gesture, anchoring you. “Let’s get outta here.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, but you shook your head and forced a reassuring smile. “I appreciate it, Bucky, I really do. But I’ll feel worse if I bail on them. Besides…” You glanced toward the table where Sam and Torres, both men had their eyes on you. “I can handle this.”

He studied you for a long moment, as if weighing the merits of arguing further. Finally, he exhaled, though his protective concern didn’t waver. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’ll be okay.”

His hand moved to the small of your back as he guided you back toward the table. “Just say the word, and we’re gone,” he murmured close to your ear, his presence grounding.

As you approached, you noticed the change in Sam and Torres’ demeanors, their earlier merriment gone. Sam's sharp eyes darted to Bucky, then to you, and Torres looked more serious than you’d ever seen him.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked you, his tone casual but his gaze searching.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Just ran into an old… acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance?” Torres repeated, his brow furrowing. “That guy was all over you, and not in a good way.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the younger man’s bluntness.

Sam leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, a kind smile on his face as he spoke to you. “Looked like Bucky handled it, though. What’d you say to him, Buck?” he asked, turning to Bucky with a smirk.

Bucky shrugged, slipping his arm back over your shoulder and pulling you close to his side. “Just told him to leave her alone.”

Torres let out a low whistle. “Man looked like he’d seen a ghost when he walked out. Sure that’s all you said?”

Bucky didn’t answer, his attention still focused on you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded quickly, feeling uncomfortable under the weight of their attention. “I’m fine, really,” you insisted. “Just embarrassed. I didn’t mean to make a scene or ruin the night.”

You just wanted the ground to swallow you up. Not only had Bucky’s friends witnessed your humiliation, but you were worried that it would put your fake relationship in jeopardy.

“Hey,” Sam interjected. “You didn’t ruin anything. That guy was out of line. You handled yourself fine. And Bucky—” Sam smirked slightly, leaning back in his chair. “You might’ve earned yourself a permanent invite to every future birthday bash.”

Torres snorted. “Seriously, that guy hit the floor faster than I could blink. You’ve got moves, man.”

Bucky, still watching you, offered a faint smirk. “He was drunk. Didn’t take much.”

“Still,” Sam said, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “If you need to head out, we’ll understand. No shame in calling it a night after dealing with that.”

You hesitated, glancing between the three of them. Bucky’s hand settled lightly on your knee under the table. “You guys put so much effort into tonight. I don’t want to ruin it for you.” You said the last bit to Bucky, knowing that he wasn’t the type of person who would willingly plan a social event, especially not for himself.

“You’re not ruining anything,” Torres said quickly.

Sam nodded in agreement. “Exactly. But if you wanna stay, we’re here. And if you wanna leave…” He glanced at Bucky, whose hand was still on your knee. “I’m pretty sure you’re in good hands.”

Bucky knew you wouldn’t give in, you were tough, tougher than he had expected when he had first met you. He liked that about you. So he decided to take the matter in his own hands. “I think we’re done for today, guys. Thank you for this.”

“Bucky—” you started to protest, but he cut you off gently.

“No arguments,” he said gently, squeezing your knee and then letting go of you completely. Bucky stood up and grabbed your coat. “Let’s go.”

You opened your mouth to counter, to insist that everything was fine, but his gaze silenced you. It wasn’t demanding, no— it was suspiciously protective, possibly even concerned.

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. But you better let us know when you get home safe.”

“Will do,” Bucky said, already helping you to your feet.

Torres offered you a reassuring smile. “And hey, next time? We’ll make sure it’s just us. No exes crashing the party.”

You managed a small smile, grateful for their understanding.

Bucky walked close to you, ever vigilant as you found your way back to his car. The evening had been a whirlwind of emotions and even though you had escaped the storm, the damaging effects of Leonard’s cruel words lingered.

You glanced at Bucky as he drove, his profile clearly lit by the streetlamps. He had remained silent but it wasn’t uncomfortable like you’d expected. There was no judgement radiating off him as you’d feared. As he parked the car outside your apartment complex, he didn’t make a fuss. Jumping out of the driver’s seat, he flew around to your side to open your door, brushing off your words of thanks.

His gentleness surprised you, he was so different from the standoffish man you’d known when he moved in. This Bucky was a gentleman, every bit the boyfriend you had hoped Leonard could have been. You felt ashamed of the relationship you’d had with the businessman. You were getting off the elevator on your floor, almost at your front door but you stopped in your tracks, unable to hold it in any longer.

“Bucky?”

He stopped and turned to face you. “Yeah?” he answered, his brow furrowing at your tone.

You looked down at the worn out carpet, tracing the old fashioned pattern with the tip of your heeled shoe. “Do you… d’you think I’m a slut?” The words tasted foul on your tongue.

“What?” His response was sharp, his face sporting a startled expression. He took a step back towards you, eyes searching your face. “Why the hell would you ask me that?”

You shrugged, feeling more and more foolish by the minute, but now that you’d opened up, the words kept tumbling out. “I just… Leonard said…” You trailed off, taking a moment to figure out what you were trying to say. “Maybe he’s right, like, look at me—”

“Stop.” Bucky’s voice was firm but gentle, and he tilted his head down to catch your gaze. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

“But—”

“No,” he cut you off, stepping even closer to you. “What that man said was bullshit. He was drunk, he’s bitter that he lost someone as incredible as you. All he wanted was to hurt you because you know you’re better off without him.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, letting out a shaky sigh. “It was just so… personal. He’s always been able to see through me and… what if everyone else sees me that way? Even my friends think I can’t maintain a relationship.”

Bucky gritted his teeth for a second before he blew out a long breath. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face with incredible tenderness. “Now you listen to me,” he said, his voice low. “You’re not a slut. Not even close. You’re smart, you’re kind, you’re surprisingly tough, but you know how to be vulnerable with people. It’s… refreshing. Leonard doesn’t know you— not really. And anyone who says something like that doesn’t deserve to be in your life, let alone have their words live in your head.”

You bit your lip to stop it from trembling, blinking to hold back tears, but one escaped anyway. Bucky caught it with his thumb, brushing it away carefully.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice unwavering. “You’re amazing, doll. Don’t let some asshole make you doubt that.”

You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Anytime.” He gave you a small smile, walking with you to your front door, watching as you unlocked and opened it.

“See you later?”

“See you later, Princess.” He winked before turning to open his own front door.

“Oh and Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday!”

He smiled, closing the door slowly. You stepped inside your own apartment and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again. Leonard’s venomous words still stung, but Bucky’s kindness had dulled their edge. As you leaned against your door, you realized that maybe Bucky cared more about you than you’d expected. And as confusing as that thought was, it also felt… comforting.

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elryuse · 3 months ago

Text

Veil Of Devotion Pt. 1

Yandere Sullin X Make Reader

Tags : Incest, Yandere, Obsession, Blowjobs, Secret Sex, Secret Relationship, Older Brother Reader, Younger Sister Sullin

Words : 7,780 Words

A Commission Series For My Friend @thelastsequence Here On Tumblr. Hope you Enjoyed the First Part of This Series Bruv.

You’ve always taken your role as an older brother seriously. From the time you were just a boy, you understood that Sullin, your little sister, relied on you more than anyone else. Your parents were rarely home—work trips, late nights, or social obligations kept them away. So, you became her pillar. When she cried, you were there to wipe her tears. When she was lonely, you told her stories to make her smile. You were her everything, and she was yours.

As the years went by, Sullin blossomed into a stunning young woman. She was the kind of girl people couldn’t help but notice—bright, kind, and impossibly beautiful. At school, she became a magnet for attention. You’d heard the stories from her about boys confessing their feelings or trying to win her heart, but Sullin never seemed interested.

“They’re nice, but… they’re not you, oppa,” she would say with a soft giggle. Her words always felt like an innocent declaration of her admiration, but the way her eyes lingered on you sometimes made you wonder if there was more behind them.

Today started out like any other day. You walked home from work, checking your phone for texts from Sullin. She always messaged you when she was done with school, and you’d meet her halfway or wait for her at home. But today, there were no texts. No updates.

A feeling of unease settled in your chest as you quickened your pace toward her school.

When you arrived, you saw her standing near the gates, her arms crossed and her body tense. Her usual cheerful demeanor was replaced with discomfort, and a tall boy stood in front of her, gesturing animatedly. His voice reached your ears as you approached.

“Sullin, come on. I’m not like those other guys. I really like you. We’d be great together. Just give me a chance.”

The boy’s persistence made your blood boil. Sullin’s polite rejection wasn’t enough for him. She tried to step back, but he matched her movement, his presence invasive. You quickened your pace, your fists clenched tightly.

“I said no, Juwon,” Sullin replied firmly, though her voice wavered slightly. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Before the boy could respond, you stepped in, placing yourself between him and your sister.

“She said no. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” you growled, your eyes locking onto Juwon’s with an intensity that made him flinch.

Juwon took a step back, his confidence faltering. “I… I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I just wanted to talk to her.”

“You don’t seem to understand the meaning of no,” you snapped, your voice low and dangerous. “If she says she’s not interested, you leave her alone. Got it?”

Juwon glanced at Sullin, who was peeking out from behind you, her hands clutching your arm tightly. Her expression was a mix of fear and relief. With a frustrated grunt, Juwon turned on his heel and walked away, muttering under his breath.

As soon as he was gone, Sullin exhaled shakily and leaned into you. “Oppa…” she murmured, her voice soft and trembling.

You turned to her, your expression softening. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, her hands still clutching your arm. “No, he didn’t. But… thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

Her bright eyes met yours, and a small, grateful smile spread across her face. “You always show up when I need you the most.”

You reached out and gently ruffled her hair. “That’s what big brothers are for.”

Sullin giggled and slipped her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. The gesture was something she’d done since she was little, but as she grew older, it started to feel different—more intimate.

“Let’s go home,” she said cheerfully, as if the encounter with Juwon had never happened. Her mood shifted so quickly it almost made you laugh.

As you walked together, Sullin chatted about her day, her voice light and happy. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Something about the way Juwon looked at her bothered you deeply. His persistence, his unwillingness to take no for an answer—it wasn’t something you could ignore.

When you reached home, Sullin kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the couch. “Oppa, can we order takeout tonight? I don’t feel like cooking.”

You chuckled and set your bag down. “Fine, but only if you help me pick what to order.”

She grinned and pulled out her phone, scrolling through the menu. As you watched her, a sense of protectiveness swelled in your chest. Sullin was your responsibility, your precious little sister. You’d do anything to keep her safe, no matter what.

But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, Sullin saw you as more than her brother. The way she clung to you, the way her eyes lit up when you were around—it was different.

And maybe, if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t mind.

Life returned to normal after the encounter with Juwon—or as normal as it could be with Sullin practically glued to your side. At first, her constant presence felt comforting. You’d always been close, and it wasn’t unusual for her to seek you out for advice or companionship. But now, it was different.

She was always there.

When you made breakfast in the morning, she was in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and watching you intently. When you came home from work, she was already waiting by the door, her face lighting up like a child’s on Christmas morning. Even when you tried to relax, she was either nestled beside you or finding excuses to talk.

“Oppa, can you help me with this?”

“Oppa, I made you some tea. It’s your favorite!”

“Oppa, do you want to watch a movie with me tonight?”

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed her company. Sullin had a way of making everything feel lighter, her presence chasing away the exhaustion from your long days. But as time went on, you started to worry.

She didn’t seem to have any friends.

Sure, she was polite to her classmates and had plenty of admirers, but she never talked about hanging out with anyone outside of school. And she certainly wasn’t interested in dating, much to the dismay of her many suitors.

One evening, as you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, Sullin plopped down beside you, resting her head on your shoulder. You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

She pouted. “I finished it already. Besides, I’d rather spend time with you.”

You sighed, setting your phone aside. “Sullin, don’t you think you should try hanging out with your friends more? You’re in high school—you should be making memories, having fun.”

She frowned, pulling away slightly. “I don’t need anyone else, oppa. I’m happiest when I’m with you.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. On the surface, it sounded sweet, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something possessive.

“That’s not healthy, Sullin,” you said gently. “It’s important to have other people in your life. You don’t want to look back and regret missing out on these years.”

She crossed her arms, her expression stubborn. “I won’t regret it. Everyone else is boring or annoying. You’re the only one who understands me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sullin, you’re my little sister. Of course I’ll always be here for you, but I can’t be your entire world. You need to experience life, meet new people…”

Her eyes darkened, and for a moment, the cheerful facade she always wore cracked. “Are you trying to get rid of me, oppa?”

The question made your heart sink. “No, of course not. I just want what’s best for you.”

“Then stop trying to push me away,” she said, her voice trembling. “You don’t understand, oppa. You’re the only one who’s ever been there for me. Mom and Dad were never around, and everyone else just wants something from me. But you… you’re different. You care about me.”

Her words were raw, filled with emotion, and you felt a pang of guilt. She wasn’t wrong. You had been her rock, her protector. But now, it seemed like that bond was becoming a chain, binding her to you in a way that felt… unnatural.

“Sullin…” you began, but she cut you off.

“Please, oppa,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t ask me to change. I’m happy like this. Aren’t you?”

You didn’t know how to answer. You were happy in a way, but the weight of her dependence was growing heavier by the day. Still, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away.

“Alright,” you said finally, your voice soft. “But promise me you’ll at least try to talk to your classmates more. You don’t have to make best friends, but it’s good to have people you can rely on.”

She hesitated before nodding. “Okay. I’ll try… for you.”

Her smile returned, but there was something about it that unsettled you—a flicker of triumph, as if she’d won a battle you didn’t even know you were fighting.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Sullin insisted on sitting as close to you as possible while you watched TV, her head resting on your shoulder. She seemed content, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that your relationship with her was crossing into dangerous territory. You wanted to protect her, to make her happy, but at what cost?

As the night wore on, you found yourself wondering if you’d made a mistake. Had you been too soft? Too accommodating?

Or was it already too late to pull away?

Day by day, your routine with Sullin became more structured, more predictable. Every morning, you would walk her to school, and every afternoon, you would wait by the gates to take her home. It had become a ritual, one that Sullin seemed to cherish deeply.

She always greeted you the same way after school—with a bright, radiant smile and an enthusiastic wave. Her happiness was contagious, and though you still worried about her dependence on you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you were the one who made her feel safe and loved.

One afternoon, as you leaned against the gate, watching the students filter out, you spotted Sullin walking toward you. This time, she wasn’t alone. Two girls were by her side, chatting animatedly. Sullin’s face lit up even more when she saw you, and she quickly waved, tugging her friends along.

“Oppa!” she called, her voice ringing with excitement.

The two girls looked at you curiously before offering polite smiles.

“This is Dahyun and Lynn,” Sullin introduced, gesturing to the two girls. “They’re my best friends.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dahyun said with a slight bow. She was petite with short, dark hair and an energetic aura that made her seem like the life of the group.

“Hello,” Lynn added softly, her demeanor more reserved. Her long, wavy hair framed her face, and she had a calming presence that balanced Dahyun’s energy.

“Nice to meet you both,” you replied with a nod, smiling at how polite they were.

The trio looked adorable together, and for the first time in a while, you felt a glimmer of relief. Maybe Sullin was starting to open up to others after all.

“We were just talking about going to the library together tomorrow,” Dahyun said. “Sullin said she wanted to show us some books she likes.”

You raised an eyebrow at Sullin, who blushed slightly. “I thought it’d be fun,” she said shyly.

“Sounds like a good idea,” you said. “It’s nice to see you making friends, Sullin.”

She smiled, her cheeks tinged pink, and glanced at her friends. “Yeah… it’s been nice.”

Dahyun suddenly turned to you with a playful grin. “Sullin talks about you a lot, you know. She’s always saying how cool and dependable her oppa is.”

“Dahyun!” Sullin exclaimed, her face turning red.

You chuckled, feeling both flattered and a little embarrassed. “Well, I try my best.”

Lynn smiled gently. “She’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Sullin beamed at their words, clinging to your arm as if to emphasize the bond you shared. “I know, right? Oppa is the best.”

Though her affection was endearing, you noticed the slight possessiveness in the way she held onto you, as if she were silently reminding her friends that you were hers.

After a few more minutes of light conversation, Dahyun and Lynn said their goodbyes and headed off in the opposite direction. Sullin waved to them cheerfully before turning her attention back to you.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah, they seem great,” you replied. “I’m glad you’ve made some good friends.”

Sullin’s smile faltered for a brief moment before returning, though it felt a bit forced. “Yeah… they’re fun to hang out with. But I still like being with you the most.”

You sighed, giving her a gentle pat on the head. “Sullin, it’s good to have friends your age. It’s part of growing up.”

“I know,” she murmured, though her tone was unconvincing.

The walk home was quieter than usual, and you couldn’t help but wonder if your comment had upset her. You wanted her to live a full, happy life, but it was clear that she still saw you as the center of her world.

The next day, you dropped her off at school as usual. Dahyun and Lynn were waiting for her at the gates, and they greeted her with warm smiles. Sullin waved to you before running off to join them, her laughter echoing as they disappeared into the building.

For a moment, you felt a sense of pride. Maybe things were changing, even if only slightly.

But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sullin’s attachment to you ran deeper than you fully understood. She had friends now, but would that be enough to loosen the hold she had on you—or the hold you had on her?

You didn’t have an answer, but you knew one thing for sure: Sullin wasn’t ready to let go.

The night was still and quiet, but something felt… off. You stirred awake, a strange warmth pressing against your body. Groggily, you reached for your blanket, only to freeze when you felt something—someone—next to you.

Blinking in the dim light, your eyes adjusted to the sight of Sullin, curled up against your side, her head resting on your chest. Her breathing was soft and steady, indicating that she was fast asleep.

“Sullin…?” you whispered, unsure if this was some kind of dream.

She didn’t respond. Her arms were wrapped around you tightly, as though she were holding on to a lifeline.

You tried shaking her gently. “Sullin, wake up. What are you doing here?”

But she didn’t budge. Her grip remained firm, and her peaceful expression made it clear she was deep in slumber.

A part of you wanted to get up and carry her back to her own bed, but the thought of waking her—of seeing her disappointed or upset—held you back. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly.

“This is just one night,” you told yourself. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

But as you drifted off, the faint scent of her shampoo lingered in the air, and you couldn’t ignore the strange unease settling in your chest.

Morning came sooner than you expected. The first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and you yawned as you stretched, running a hand through your messy hair. Turning to your side, you saw that Sullin was still in bed, her face serene as she lay curled up beneath the blanket.

You rubbed your eyes and stood up, deciding to let her sleep a little longer. The events of the night before played in your mind, but you shook them off. “She probably just had a bad dream,” you muttered, trying to convince yourself.

Grabbing a fresh towel, you headed to the bathroom for a shower. The sound of running water filled the room as you tried to clear your thoughts.

But what you didn’t realize was that Sullin wasn’t asleep at all.

Her eyes fluttered open the moment she heard you move. She sat up quietly, watching as you left the room. Her gaze was fixed, her lips curling into a faint smile.

Sliding out of bed, she tiptoed to the door, peeking through the small crack you’d left open. The faint sound of water accompanied the sight of steam escaping from the bathroom.

Sullin leaned against the doorframe, her hands clasped together as she watched the outline of your figure behind the frosted glass. Her eyes traced your movements, studying the way the water cascaded down your body.

“You don’t even realize it, do you, oppa?” she murmured under her breath, her voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “How much I need you. How much I love you.”

Her heart raced as she stood there, completely captivated. Every little thing about you—your voice, your presence, the way you cared for her—drove her deeper into her obsession.

When she heard the water turn off, she quickly darted back to the bed, slipping under the covers and feigning sleep.

You stepped out of the bathroom, towel draped around your neck as you dried your hair. “Sullin, time to get up,” you called out, glancing at her still figure.

She stirred slowly, rubbing her eyes as though she’d just woken up. “Morning, oppa,” she mumbled, her voice sweet and innocent.

“Morning,” you replied, grabbing your clothes for the day. “You slept well, huh?”

She nodded, sitting up and stretching. “I always sleep well when I’m with you.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment before brushing it off. “You shouldn’t make a habit of that,” you said lightly. “You’ve got your own bed for a reason.”

“But I like being close to you,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of sincerity. “It makes me feel safe.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sullin, you can’t keep doing this. What if people found out? They’d think it’s… strange.”

Her smile faltered for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. “Who cares what other people think? It’s not like they understand us, oppa.”

Her words left you uneasy, but you didn’t want to press the issue further. “Just… don’t make it a habit, okay?”

She tilted her head, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “Okay, oppa,” she said softly, though her tone carried a subtle edge of defiance.

As you turned away to finish getting ready, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Sullin’s actions, her words—they were starting to blur the lines of your relationship.

And deep down, you feared what might happen if things continued down this path.

The morning passed with relative ease. Sullin had been in high spirits, eagerly talking about her plans with Dahyun and Lynn for their trip to the central library. You couldn’t help but admire how animated she looked—her bright eyes, her infectious laugh. It was a side of her you hadn’t seen often enough.

When it was time, you pulled up in front of her school, where the trio was waiting. Sullin was the first to spot you, waving enthusiastically as she pulled her friends along.

“Oppa!” she called, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. Dahyun and Lynn followed, squeezing into the back.

“Thanks for taking us, oppa,” Sullin said, her voice laced with excitement.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Ready for your library adventure?”

“Absolutely!” Dahyun chirped. “I’ve been wanting to check out their art book collection. They’re supposed to have some amazing ones.”

“And I heard they have a rare first edition of a poetry collection,” Lynn added softly, her tone dreamy.

As the girls chatted, your focus remained on the road, but you couldn’t ignore the occasional glance Sullin threw your way. She giggled softly every time your eyes met hers, her gaze lingering a little too long for comfort.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she replied, stifling another giggle. “You just look cute when you’re focused.”

The comment made Dahyun and Lynn laugh, but you felt a strange pang in your chest. It wasn’t the teasing itself—Sullin had always been playful with you—but something about the way she said it felt… different.

You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that this was her moment to enjoy with her friends. The last thing you wanted was to ruin it by overthinking.

As you pulled up in front of the central library, the girls clambered out of the car, their excitement palpable.

“Alright, you three,” you said, leaning out the window. “Behave yourselves and stay together. Be wary of strangers, okay?”

“Got it, oppa,” Sullin said with a bright smile.

“Thanks for driving us,” Dahyun added, her tone cheerful.

“We’ll be careful,” Lynn said softly, bowing slightly.

The three of them waved as they headed toward the library entrance, their laughter echoing behind them.

You watched them disappear inside before pulling away, your mind wandering back to the strange feeling that had been gnawing at you all morning.

Why had your heart skipped a beat when Sullin had smiled at you in the car? Why did her giggle linger in your mind like a haunting melody?

You clenched the steering wheel, trying to push the thoughts away. This is wrong, you told yourself. She’s your sister. You’re just tired. That’s all.

Back at home, the silence felt both comforting and oppressive. You tried to distract yourself with chores and TV, but the memory of Sullin’s gaze kept creeping in.

Finally, exhaustion won out, and you decided to take a nap. The events of the previous night—Sullin curling up beside you, her restless movements—had left you more drained than you realized.

You lay down on the couch, closing your eyes. “Just a quick nap,” you muttered to yourself.

But sleep didn’t come easily. Your mind replayed moments you didn’t want to dwell on—Sullin’s smile, the way she clung to your arm, her soft voice calling you “oppa.” Your chest tightened, and your heart began to race.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, gripping the pillow. “Stop thinking about this.”

Eventually, the weight of fatigue pulled you under, and you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When you woke, the sun was already starting to dip below the horizon. You checked the time and realized it was time to pick the girls up.

The drive back to the library was quiet, the hum of the car engine filling the empty space in your thoughts. You tried to focus on the road, but anticipation gnawed at you.

When you arrived, the three girls were waiting outside, their faces lighting up as you pulled up. Sullin opened the passenger door and climbed in, her smile as radiant as ever.

“Oppa!” she said cheerfully. “Did you miss us?”

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your tone light.

Dahyun and Lynn climbed into the backseat, both carrying small bags filled with books.

“Thank you for picking us up,” Lynn said politely.

“We had so much fun,” Dahyun added. “The library was amazing!”

As the car filled with their chatter, you felt a mix of relief and unease. Sullin seemed happy, which was all you wanted for her. But the strange, unshakable feeling in your chest reminded you that something wasn’t right.

And as you glanced at Sullin out of the corner of your eye, catching the way she was looking at you—her smile soft, her gaze warm—you couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too.

The ride back home was filled with lighthearted chatter. Dahyun and Lynn shared stories about their favorite finds at the library, their voices brimming with excitement. Sullin, however, leaned back in her seat, her head tilted slightly toward you as she listened quietly, a serene smile on her lips.

When you pulled into the driveway, the three of them thanked you warmly. Dahyun and Lynn waved goodbye as they headed home, leaving you and Sullin standing by the front door.

“I’m so tired,” Sullin groaned dramatically as she kicked off her shoes. She trudged toward her room and flopped onto her bed, spreading her arms and legs like a starfish.

You leaned against the doorframe, chuckling at the sight. “Didn’t you just sit around reading books all day? How are you this exhausted?”

She pouted, her cheeks puffing up. “Oppa, reading is hard work! Especially when you’re explaining everything to your friends.”

“Oh, is that right?” you teased, stepping closer to ruffle her hair.

“Oppaaa!” she whined, swatting at your hand but making no real effort to stop you. Her cutesy tone made you laugh even more.

“Alright, alright,” you said, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Get some rest, okay? Goodnight, Sullin.”

“Goodnight,” she murmured, her voice soft as her eyes began to flutter shut.

Satisfied, you left her room and headed to yours. The day had been long, and despite the strange feelings swirling in your chest, you were utterly drained.

You slipped under the covers, sighing as the quiet of the house enveloped you. For a moment, everything felt still—peaceful.

But as you stared up at the ceiling, the silence began to grow heavy, almost oppressive. Memories of the day flashed through your mind: Sullin’s giggles in the car, the way her eyes lingered on you, the warmth of her smile.

Your heart thudded in your chest, an uncomfortable rhythm that refused to settle.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re just overthinking.”

Yet, the more you tried to push the thoughts away, the stronger they came back. You rolled onto your side, burying your face in the pillow in frustration.

The night dragged on, and just as you were on the edge of sleep, a faint creak broke the silence.

Your eyes shot open. For a moment, you thought you’d imagined it. But then, there it was again—a soft, deliberate sound, like footsteps on the wooden floor.

Your breath hitched as you turned your head toward the door. It was open, just a crack, and through the sliver of space, you thought you saw a shadow shift.

“Sullin?” you called out, your voice low but steady.

There was no response.

Pushing yourself up, you hesitated before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The house was dark, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the windows.

You stepped toward the door, opening it fully. The hallway was empty, silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“Must’ve been the wind,” you muttered, though the explanation felt hollow.

Closing the door, you returned to bed, your unease lingering like a shadow in the corner of your mind.

And as you lay there, trying to calm your racing heart, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone.

“Brother?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with a mix of hesitation and something darker, something hungrier.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your body was still, your eyes closed, but your mind was racing. The sound of her footsteps, soft and deliberate, crept closer to your bed. The air felt heavier, thick with tension, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

She stopped just beside you, her presence looming even in the darkness. You could hear her shallow breathing, the faint rustle of her nightgown as she shifted her weight. And then, the unmistakable sound of your blanket being pulled back, the cool air hitting your skin.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you kept your breathing steady, feigning sleep. You couldn’t let her know you were awake. Not yet.

Her fingers brushed against your waistband, and you felt your stomach clench. Slowly, carefully, she tugged at the fabric, pulling your pants down just enough to release your cock. The air was cool against your exposed skin, but the heat of her gaze was overwhelming.

“So perfect,” she murmured, her voice shaking with awe. You felt her breath, warm and unsteady, against your skin as she leaned in closer. Her hand wrapped around you, her touch tentative at first, then firmer, more deliberate.

You had to bite back a groan as she began to stroke you, her fingers exploring every inch of you. Her breath hitched, and you could hear the soft, desperate sounds she was making as she worked you in her hand.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this—about you.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, a mix of guilt and desire that made your head spin. You had always known there was something off about the way she looked at you, the way she clung to you. But you had never let yourself acknowledge it, never allowed yourself to think about what it might mean.

And now, here she was, her hand moving with a confidence that belied her inexperience, her breath hot against your skin as she leaned in even closer. You felt her lips brush against the tip of your cock, and you had to clench your fists to keep from giving yourself away.

“Please, brother,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Let me do this for you.”

And then, her lips parted, and she took you into her mouth.

The sensation was overwhelming, her warmth enveloping you, her tongue swirling around you as she experimented with different movements. She was inexperienced, her technique clumsy, but the sheer desperation in her actions made it impossible to resist.

You couldn’t help it—you let out a soft moan, your hips shifting slightly as you responded to her touch. She paused for a moment, her breath catching, and you could feel her heart racing as she realized you were awake.

But she didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed emboldened, her movements growing more confident as she worked you in her mouth. Her hand moved to the base of your cock, stroking you in time with the movements of her lips, her tongue swirling around the tip in a way that made your toes curl.

“Sullin,” you breathed, your voice barely audible. Her name slipped out before you could stop yourself, and she froze for a moment, her lips still wrapped around you.

Slowly, she pulled back, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she looked up at you. Her eyes were wide, filled with a mix of fear and longing, and her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

“You’re… awake,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence between you was deafening, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

And then, without warning, she leaned in again, her lips closing around you once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. Her movements were deliberate, her tongue swirling around you in slow, deliberate circles as she took you deeper into her mouth.

“Sullin, wait—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as she reached up, her fingers tangling in the sheets as she worked you with her lips and tongue.

You couldn’t stop yourself—your hips shifted, thrusting into her mouth as the sensations overwhelmed you. She didn’t pull away, didn’t stop. Instead, she let out a muffled moan, her eyes closing as she lost herself in the act.

The room was filled with the sounds of her efforts, the wet, messy sounds of her mouth working you, the soft, desperate noises she made as she pleasured you. Her cheeks hollowed as she took you deeper, her lips moving with a rhythm that made your head spin.

“Sullin,” you groaned her name lowly, a mix of guilt and ecstasy coursing through your veins. You’d always loved her, always cared for her, but this… this was something else entirely. Something forbidden, something dangerous._

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.

You groaned, your hands instinctively reaching for her as she pulled away from your cock, her lips wet and glistening in the moonlight. Sullin looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire, her breathing heavy.

“I… I can’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need more.”

Before you could respond, she climbed onto the bed, straddling you. Her nightgown rode up, revealing her bare thighs as she positioned herself over your hard cock. You could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body trembled with anticipation.

“Sullin,” you said, your voice strained. “This… this is wrong.”

“I don’t care,” she replied, her voice firm. “I’ve wanted this for so long, brother. I’ve dreamed about it, fantasized about it. I can’t hold back anymore.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of guilt and arousal flooding your veins. You wanted to stop her, to push her away, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as she lowered herself onto your cock.

She gasped as you entered her, her head tilting back as she sank down, taking every inch of you. You groaned, the sensation overwhelming, the warmth of her body enveloping you completely.

“You feel so good,” she moaned, her voice breathless. “I’ve always wondered… what it would feel like to have you inside me.”

Her hips began to move, slowly at first, as she adjusted to your size. You could feel her tightness, the way her muscles clenched around you, pulling you deeper with every thrust.

“Sullin,” you groaned, your hands tightening on her hips. “This… this can’t happen.”

“But it is happening,” she whispered, leaning forward so her lips were just inches from yours. “And you don’t want it to stop, do you?”

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But then she moved again, her hips rolling against yours, and all thought fled your mind. All you could feel was her, the way she moved, the way she felt.

“Tell me you want me,” she begged, her voice soft yet demanding. “Tell me you’ve thought about this too.”

You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers in the dim light. And in that moment, you couldn’t deny it any longer.

“I’ve thought about it,” you admitted, your voice rough with desire. “I’ve wanted you, Sullin. I’ve wanted this.”

A smile spread across her face, one of pure joy and triumph. “Then take me,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “Make me yours.”

Her words were like a spark, igniting something deep within you. Your hands moved from her hips to her ass, gripping her firmly as you thrust up into her. She cried out, her body arching as you filled her completely.

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice trembling with pleasure. “Just like that.”

Her hips moved faster, matching your rhythm as you fucked her. The sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room, the wet slap of skin on skin, her breathless gasps and moans.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies moving together. “I’ve imagined you inside me, fucking me just like this.”

Her words sent a jolt of heat through you, your cock throbbing inside her. You couldn’t believe how good it felt, how right it felt, even though you knew it was wrong.

“I’ve imagined you pinning me down, taking me whenever you wanted,” she continued, her voice growing more desperate. “I’ve imagined you filling me with your cum, marking me as yours.”

“Sullin,” you groaned, your hips thrusting harder, faster. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do,” she insisted, her hands gripping your shoulders as she rode you. “I’ve wanted this for so long, brother. I’ve wanted you.”

Her words were like a drug, intoxicating and irresistible. You couldn’t stop yourself, your hands moving to her breasts, kneading them through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She moaned, her head falling back as you teased her nipples, her body moving faster, more desperate.

“I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “I’ve always been yours.”

Her words pushed you over the edge, your cock throbbing as you felt your release building. You tried to hold it back, to prolong the moment, but she was too much, her body too perfect, her words too enticing.

“I’m going to cum,” you groaned, your hands gripping her hips as you thrust into her one last time.

She cried out, her body trembling as she came around you, her muscles clenching tight as she reached her own climax. You felt your release surge through you, your cock pulsing as you filled her with your cum.

For a moment, everything was still, the two of you locked together as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Then, slowly, she collapsed onto your chest, her body trembling as she tried to catch her breath.

You held her, your hands stroking her back as you both came down from the high. You knew this was wrong, that it shouldn’t have happened, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All that mattered was her, the way she felt in your arms, the way she made you feel.

“Brother,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with emotion. “I love you.”

You hesitated, your mind still reeling from what had just happened. But as you looked down at her, at the way she looked at you, you couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

“I love you too, Sullin,” you admitted, your voice rough with emotion. “I always have.”

She smiled, her eyes closing as she nuzzled against your chest. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t wrong. Maybe this was exactly where you were meant to be.

But as you lay there, holding her in your arms, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered a warning. This can’t last. This can’t be real.

You pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the way she felt in your arms, the way her body fit perfectly against yours. You didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, you didn’t care. All that mattered was her.

“Brother,” she whispered again, her voice filled with desire. “I want more.”

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Sullin was still curled up against you, her breathing steady and warm against your chest. Your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on her back, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Last night had been… something. Something you couldn’t quite put into words. It was intense, passionate, and undeniably wrong. Yet, it felt so right in the moment.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at you, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. “Morning,” she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice tight with unease. You couldn’t ignore the weight of what had happened. “Sullin, we… we need to talk.”

Her smile faltered, and she pushed herself up, her hair falling in messy waves around her face. “Talk about what?” she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew.

“About last night,” you said, sitting up and running a hand through your hair. “About… us. This can’t happen again. It’s… it’s not right.”

Her expression darkened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Not right? You didn’t seem to think it was wrong last night. You seemed pretty into it, actually.”

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away. “I know. I… I don’t know what came over me. But we’re siblings, Sullin. This isn’t… we can’t.”

She leaned closer, her eyes boring into yours. “Why not? If we both want it, why does it matter?”

“It matters,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly. “This isn’t just some fling. It’s… it’s incest, Sullin. People don’t… they don’t do this.”

“People don’t do a lot of things,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “But we did. And it felt good. Don’t pretend it didn’t.”

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Of course it felt good. That’s not the point. The point is, it’s wrong. We can’t keep doing this.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “Fine,” she said, her voice dripping with resignation. “We’ll stop. If that’s what you want.”

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. There was something in her tone, something that made your stomach twist. “It’s not just about what I want,” you said carefully. “It’s about what’s right.”

She gave you a small, almost sad smile. “I know. But… I can’t promise I won’t want you again. I can’t promise I won’t need you.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your resolve waver. “Sullin…”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything to me. I’ve always wanted you, and now that I’ve had you… I don’t think I can stop.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “We have to,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. “For both of our sakes.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze drifting to the window. The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

Finally, she spoke again, her voice soft but firm. “I’ll try. For you, I’ll try. But… don’t expect me to stop loving you. That’s something I can’t control.”

You reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m not asking you to stop loving me. I’m just asking you to… to put some boundaries in place. For both of us.”

She leaned into your touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment. “Boundaries,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. “Alright. Boundaries.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting yours once more. “But just so you know… if you ever change your mind, if you ever want me again… I’ll be here. Waiting.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you pulled your hand away, the intensity in her eyes almost too much to bear. “Sullin…”

She smiled, a small, knowing smile that sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. “I mean it,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. You wanted to believe that you could resist her, that you could stick to the boundaries you’d just set. But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Because the truth was, you wanted her too. More than you cared to admit.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Sullin leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Think about it,” she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

Your body reacted instantly, a surge of desire coursing through you. You tried to push her away, but your hands seemed to have a mind of their own, gripping her hips instead.

“Sullin, we… we said we’d stop,” you said, your voice shaky.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I know. But maybe… just one more time? For old times’ sake?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. This was wrong. So, so wrong. But the way she was looking at you, the way her body pressed against yours… it was impossible to resist.

“Just… one more time,” you whispered, your resolve crumbling.

She smiled, a triumphant smile that made your stomach flip. “Good,” she said, her hands already moving to your waistband. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all morning.”

You didn’t have time to respond before she was pulling down your boxers, freeing your already hardening cock. She eyed it hungrily, licking her lips.

“So perfect,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe. “I love the way you feel in my hands.”

You let out a shaky breath, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. This was wrong. You knew it was wrong. But the way she was touching you, the way she was looking at you… it was impossible to care.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against the tip of your cock. “I’ve missed this,” she whispered, her voice sending shivers down your spine.

And then, without warning, she took you into her mouth, her lips wrapping around you in a way that made your toes curl.

“Sullin…” you groaned, your hands tangling in her hair.

She moaned around you, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. Her tongue swirled around the tip, teasing you in all the right ways.

You tried to hold back, tried to keep things under control. But it was impossible. She was too good, too eager, and before you knew it, you were thrusting into her mouth, your hips moving of their own accord.

She didn’t seem to mind, her hands gripping your thighs as she took you deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate you.

“Fuck, Sullin…” you gasped, your fingers tightening in her hair. “You’re so good at this.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Do you like it?” she asked, her voice dripping with innocence.

“Yes,” you breathed, your hips thrusting upward again. “I love it.”

She smiled, a mischievous smile that made your heart race. “Good,” she said, before diving back down, taking you to the hilt.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, the pleasure building inside you until it was almost too much. “Sullin, I’m… I’m gonna come…”

She didn’t stop, her mouth working you over with a relentless intensity that drove you over the edge.

With a low groan, you came, your release spilling into her mouth. She moaned around you, swallowing every last drop.

As you came down from your high, she pulled back, a satisfied smirk on her face. “I told you,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “I can’t stop wanting you.”

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #kpop smut #yandere #yandere stories #update #apreciation post #sullin #triples sullin #triples x reader #triples smut #triples dahyun #dahyun #triples lynn #lynn #triples

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pippin-katz · 5 months ago

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Jayden, George & Cameos

Alright, maybe this is me being presumptuous, but I feel like I need to say something. I’m going to offer my two cents about the cameo situation.

I did not buy a cameo when George did it, but upon asking someone who did, they costed £40. The price of the joint cameo is evidently £80.

Is that too high of a price?

If you thought £40 for George’s cameo was fine, then you have to say “no”.

George by himself was £40. If Jayden made his own by himself, it would probably also be £40. Therefore, if you add them together, you get £80.

People need to understand that while they might have fun with the cameos, they are still working. Recording videos like that is exhausting, and if you don’t think so, you’ve clearly never done it. I have recorded reaction videos and after thoughts and stories for years, and I still get exhausted if I have to do a multiple part story, or do it over and over until I’m satisfied.

Now, I know a lot of people are peeved more about the phrasing of these joint cameos as a “gift for the fans” when the price might be out of budget for a lot of people.

But if you are throwing a tantrum over it, you need to sit the fuck down, and check your damn privilege.

It is a gift.

They don’t have to do this. They literally don’t. They don’t have to interact with us. They don’t have to post anything. They owe you nothing.

Instead, they have taken the time out of their days, their schedules, whatever they might be busy with, or even if they’re relaxing, and they’ve decided to record video messages for you.

Not to mention, do you even understand what they are putting themselves in risk of emotionally or mentally?

The very first thing that came to a LOT of people’s minds when this was announced was: “I hope no one asks them to kiss because we’ll never get Payneland.”

If you didn’t think that, congratulations! You have apparently been fortunate enough not to encounter what real Internet behavior is like. Or maybe you’re new to a fandom space, and this is your first time! Great!

You might be thinking: “No one would actually do that; at least not in this fandom!”

But the truth of the matter is that there are many people who would and probably WILL do that.

The anonymous nature of the Internet has enable millions, and I mean millions, of people to act on and voice their most disgusting and disturbing thoughts. The content or person does not always reflect on the people who digest or interact with it. There are monsters everywhere; they are in every space whether you encounter them or not.

By being online all of us open ourselves up to the risk of people attacking us or exposing us to things we do not enjoy or want. For people of any level of fame, it’s multiplied tenfold.

George and Jayden can turn off direct messages, block people, mute tags, and whatnot, so they can avoid most attempts to reach them. By offering these cameos, they are giving a direct route for people to type whatever the hell they want into their message, and whether they like it or not, they’ll probably be reading it.

This is an open invitation for those awful people to request anything, to say anything, to ask anything, even if they report it and don’t respond, they’ll likely see it.

Invasive questions about their sexualities, their relationships, their personal lives. Disgusting thirst messages. Disturbing requests asking for specific things to act as a replacement or substitute for what we would’ve liked to see in the show.

Anything and everything you can think of is possibly something they will encounter, and they’re willing to take that risk to give you something special. To talk directly to you, even if it’s only for a minute.

It’s become increasingly clear, to me at least, that Jayden is a sensitive soul. Not in a “can’t take a joke” way, or in any condescending way. He’s just kind. He’s kind in a way that is taken advantage of in online spaces. He’s also young. A lot of this is still new to him.

He apologizes like it’s his fault if his stream chat gets some bad people in it. He was talking about how he wanted to continue playing Detroit: Become Human really badly, but felt like we would be upset if he didn’t stream his entire play-through. He asked for a list of names of people who support him on Twitch, their usernames and actual names, because he wanted to keep track of them.

Jayden was really excited about the joint cameos. He looked so thrilled to talk about it, and was looking forward to hanging out with George, and doing this for fans.

When fans turned around and yelled about prices, it probably crushed him! Instead of reciprocated excitement, he got bitterness and hate. And for something that he might not even have control over, mind you.

It feels like he can never do enough to make fans happy.

It’s not his fault the show was canceled, but he probably feels just as bad about it as we all do! It’s disappointing! It’s upsetting! And he wanted to do it! But he can’t, and that has to feel frustrating as someone passionate about what they do.

It’s not his fault some fans are toxic or judgmental of every interaction he has with his community. It’s not his fault that people spread hate.

But it probably feels like he can at least put a stop to it by not continuing to do any of it. If he just stops streaming, no toxic chats. If he stops talking to fans, no people complaining about favoritism.

I don’t blame him for wanting to walk away entirely.

To wrap this up, if you have anything disrespectful to say about the boys or this situation, do us all a favor and keep your damn mouth shut.

I expected better from this fandom than behaving like entitled children. We’ve gained thousands of signatures, rallied together to buy a billboard for this show, but we can’t maintain a supportive space for the actors? How do you expect us to succeed in saving this show if we can’t even do that?

To make a long story short (too late), fans, do fucking better.

#dead boy detectives #rants: dead boy detectives #george rexstrew #jayden revri

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pleasurebuttonwrites · 3 months ago

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Getting to Know Jake Lockley's Massive Cock

Jake Lockley x f!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 5.5K

Summary: You are a fic writer in the marvel universe living in New York where Moon Knight, and of course, Jake Lockley are real. His identity, as well as Marc's and Steven's are public. You write for the fandom, primarily for Jake. He joins tumblr...and reads your fics.

Warnings: smut, oral, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, breeding

A/N: I had so much fun writing this one. If I had more time I would have created fun edits for the parts where there are tumblr posts and messages and such, but I really wanted to post this already. Also, sorry about the Spanish, I don't speak it. If it bothers you too much, give me a shout, and let me know what I should change it to and I'll fix it!

~~~

It was always the same. When you finish a story and are about to post it the nerves kick in and you hesitate to hit the button. You shake yourself, literally, and post it before you could talk yourself out of it.

You refresh the page and there it is, first post on your dash under your url: jake-lockley-is-my-husband. You know if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll obsessively check for any interactions with it. So you close out and find something else to do.

You manage to occupy yourself until it’s time for bed, and you just can’t resist checking. You have dozens of likes, a few reblogs, and two lovely comments that you reply to before going to bed. All-in-all not too bad.

When you wake up the next morning you can’t wait to check again and when you open tumblr your first thought is that there must be a glitch. You have thousands of notifications. You try to sort through your activity but it’s a complete mess. Fics you posted months ago are suddenly getting interacted with, and random other posts too. But your top post is the fic you posted yesterday. You scroll through the comments:

No way it’s really him.

New celebrity tumblr just dropped.

Man of the people!

You go to the reblogs to figure out just what the fuck these people are talking about and click view post on the most recent. You scroll through a chain of reblogs until you get to the first one.

It’s from a blog called jake-lockleys-massive-cock. It says:

dios mio that was hot! i love the way you write me. it’s kinda eerie how spot on you are. #my wife knows me so well #fic rec

Your brain practically malfunctions. Was-was-was that, was that, was that…?????

You go to his bio. His pfp is a picture of Jake Lockley and he’s written:

hola, me llamo jake lockley the handsome third of the superhero known as moon knight. he/him. some say man of the people. according to fics written about me: lover extraordinaire. here to read said fics. if you write for me, tag me 😉

It was some kind of joke, right? It had to be. You scroll through his blog. He’d been busy in the last five hours, replying to asks about his identity to which he provided pictures of himself. Pictures that people were quick to point out weren’t anywhere else on the internet. Others of course still doubted it, but you were starting to be convinced. Or maybe you just wanted to be convinced. But that would mean that Jake Lockley had read your smut about himself.

You don’t know how to respond directly to him so instead you make a new post:

Oh my god you can’t do this to me when I’m asleep. Did jake lockley just comment on my fic? No right? Am I still dreaming? #freaking the fuck out

You step away because it’s just too much. Notifications are still coming in and you don’t know how to reply to any of them. Later, at work, at random moments you’ll think about it and it’ll shock you all over again. This potent mix of excitement and fear courses through you. Fear because all of the attention is damn scary. You scroll through your asks on your break and there is some hate in there. Some of it just random hate that seems to come with getting attention. But some of it clearly borne of jealousy that Jake had singled out your fic.

You consider turning off anon, but some of your best requests had come from people on anon. And you don’t want to end that. You think about replying to the hate but you barely have time to reply to all the nice comments. Instead you block the bad and focus on the good. You can’t get to it all, but you’ll try.

You still can’t work up the nerve to reply to him directly - if it really is him anyway.

You’re still trying to manage your inbox days later when you see a request come through. You were planning on closing them since you’d gotten so many new ones and needed time to get to them all. This new request is from jake-lockleys-massive-cock. Your heart is practically beating in your throat as you read it.

are you avoiding me? seems like you answer all your requests so here’s one: jake (that’s me) gives you a cream pie and fingers it back into you with my gloves on.

You realize just how much you believe it’s the real him by how wet you get from this request. You try and try and try to temper yourself, but your imagination gets the best of you and for a few hours as you fulfill this ask you live in a world where not only is Jake Lockley requesting smut about himself from you, but he’s actually giving you a cream pie and fingering it back into you with his gloves on.

I would never avoid my husband. That’s preposterous. Go Time Summary: Trying for a baby, your ovulation window comes up and Jake’s busy driving around. You go meet him and fuck right there in his cab. A/N: not the way ovulation tests work but idc You’d gotten the smiley face. It was on a stick you’d just dipped into your pee, but still it made you incredibly fucking happy. You immediately reached for your phone and called up your husband. It went straight to voicemail, but that was common when he was working. You left him a brief message: “It’s go time.” You don’t have to wait long for a response. He’s good about checking his messages in between fares. You pick up. “Jake Lockley, are you ready to put a baby in me?” “Mi vida, no puedo esperar a esta noche.” [Can't wait for tonight] “No, not tonight. Now. We’ve missed the window the past three months because something always comes up. I want to do this now.” “It would take me hours to get home with the way traffic is right now.” “So…let me come to you.” You take the subway and meet him in one of the sub-levels of a parking garage. It’s full but he doesn’t need a space and everyone is already in their offices so no one is around. Jake’s double parked in one of the darker corners, leaning against his yellow cab. You thread your arms around him in a hug and he pulls you closer burying his face in your neck. Being close to your husband like this still never fails to turn you on. And knowing that you’re about to try for a baby with him just takes it through the roof. He slides his hands into the back pocket of your jeans, giving your ass a little squeeze. Your lips meet his and it’s all a rush from there. He opens the door to the backseat, ushering you in, trying not to break the kiss. On your back he pulls off your jeans, muttering, “...should’ve worn a fucking skirt.” He gets in and pulls his pants down his thighs freeing his cock, already leaking precum. You can’t help but lick it off. “No, no, baby. This load’s going between your legs.” He pulls you into a straddle on his lap and drags the head of his cock through your folds. “Already so wet for me.” You’d taken him so many times before but it still took you a minute to get used to his size. You sank slowly down over him letting the thickness of his cock give you that delicious stretch. Soon though you’re bouncing on him like a pro and he’s pulling your shirt down to free your tits and mouthing at them while your cunt soaks his lap. He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself. No matter how much you rock and shimmy your hips, somehow you just can’t hit that spot like he can. He knows this, of course, so he takes your hips and angles you and pulls you down onto him. It doesn’t take long after that. Those pretty sounds and the way your cunt squeezes his cock so good have him right there with you. You cum together, his seed coating your walls so thoroughly, there’s no way you won’t get pregnant from this. Unless you let it all leak out. He at least as the presence of mind to get you on your back to help keep it in. He watches as some of his cum drips out of your spent hole and without a thought, he gathers it on his gloved fingertip - in his haste he hadn’t taken off his driving gloves - and pushes it back inside you - deep inside you. He does this over and over again, making sure his cum stays in, ushering it back with his thick fingers, up to your cervix. His thumb slides over your clit and the tips of his fingers inside you are coaxing you toward your next release. You want him to fuck you again. To make the most of your ovulation window. “Do you think we could go again?” He slips his fingers out, only leaving you empty for a mere moment before he fills you up with his cock. “Mi vida, I’m not stopping until you can’t hold one more drop.”

The words pour out of you. Never before have you had such inspiration to write a story. You’re awash in the glow of post-writing when you realize that now you have to post it. For Jake (if it’s really him) to see. You just wrote filthy smut for your celebrity crush. By his request, but still.

Normally you look over it for a quick proofread/revision before putting it out there for the world to see. But you’re pretty sure you’ll change your mind if you don’t just post it as is. So you add a note to the A/N section and send it off into the abyss of the internet.

You want to log off. Go do something, anything else. But the thought of someone else seeing his reply before you do makes you seethe with jealousy. So you stay connected and obsessed and watch for replies.

You’re still getting a stream of notifications so you ignore those and refresh the page with your post every few seconds to start, and then only every 30 seconds. You get some likes, then some comments and reblogs. You don’t even read them when you see they’re not from him.

Finally after what seems like forever, but is really about ten minutes judging by the timestamps, he replies.

i didn’t know i had a breeding kink until just now. you’re a goddamn genius. also my cock is way bigger than you described.

While you’re still recovering from this praise, you get a dm from him. You have to take some deep breaths before you open it.

Jake: do you know you’re my favorite writer? would you like to see a pic of my cock, you know, for inspiration?

You: Wait. Are you serious?

Jake: yeah, i love all your work.

You: NO, about the other thing.

Jake: only if you promise not to share it. it’s only for you.

You: I promise. If you’re not comfortable though, it’s all good.

Jake: ok, here it is.

The pic comes through and it is indeed a massive cock. Just not the kind you were hoping for. It’s a very large rooster. Like a rooster photoshopped to be huge.

You: 🙄🙄🙄

You: You know if I had really expected you to send one I’d be disappointed right now.

Jake: sorry, cariño. i’m looking at the dick pic i took and now i'm thinking i’ve over-promised what i have. 😰

You: I can promise you that I will like it, but there’s no pressure to send anything.

The dots appear and disappear a few times as you await his response. You’re about to change the subject, when his reply pops up.

Jake: está bien, look what your fic did to me.

And a second later a picture of the finest cock you’d ever seen. You waste no time replying, wanting to reassure him that you indeed love it.

You: oh fuuuuuuuck 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

You: Is this really yours?

Jake: you’ll just have to trust me 😈

It does its job and inspires you. You feel inspired all night long. But you don’t write one word.

You’ve never spent so much time on tumblr as you do for the next few days. You dm with Jake a little bit, but he’s a busy man and you only get to talk for a few minutes here and there. You’re addicted to his blog though. He’s reblogging so many fics and answering asks. You’re pretty sure he has his queue set up and he just blasts these things in the few minutes he probably gets to spend on here.

On a tender Marc x Reader fic where Marc opens up about his past and then has emotional sex with the reader, he’s commented:

that’s pretty good, but marc cries more during sex.

And on a Steven x Reader fic where the reader is dominant, taking what she wants from Steven and pegs him:

this was fucking hot, but steven would be hard from the moment you looked at him. if your hand is down his pants, he’s already at full attention. #why is it always steven who gets pegged? #i feel left out

Someone asks him if Steven and Marc are also on tumblr and he replies that they don’t even know that he’s on here.

It’s shameful how often you look at his dick pic. He hasn’t asked you to, but you want to return the favor. You spend some time taking a good pic of your tits and you want to send it to him, but you have to figure out how to broach the subject with him.

He’s just caused a stir by posting:

thinking about getting a cat now.

And after lots of comments with suggestions on what to name the cat, he creates a poll.

He dm’s you with the question:

Jake: can you explain to me why everyone wants me to have a cat?

You: We can just tell you’re good with pussy 😏

Jake: jajaja, so you don’t know either

You: Forget it, Jake. It’s Fandomtown.

Jake: !!!!

Jake: one of my fav movies

Since you’re the queen of non-sequiturs, you write

You: Hey, could I send you something?

Jake: like…in the mail? 🤔

You: Uh, no. Like a picture? Of me?

Jake: absolutely! i’d love to see your face.

You: Welllll it’s not of my face

Jake: you have my attention

You: It’s a tit pic. Is that ok?

Jake:

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that he’s a guy and guys like tits. You send it to him and the one second that ticks by before he’s typing makes your heart skip a beat.

Jake: 🍆💦💦💦

Jake: tan hermosa. quiero tocar y besar y lamer y chupar y poner mi cara en ellas [So beautiful. I want to touch and kiss and lick and suck and put my face in them]

Jake: if i stop responding i want you to know it’s because i'm stroking my cock while drooling over your tits.

You: That’s perfect. It’ll give me some time alone with your dick pic.

Jake: dffdsdsadsajkl you’re trying to kill me woman

It’s strange how something so incredible can become so normal in the span of days, but it’s hard to remember what it was like before Jake was being a menace in the fandom. Not that it wasn’t still exciting, every post, every comment, every ask. But you no longer had to pinch yourself to prove it was real.

In fact it was so usual, it felt strange when he seemed to disappear for a few days. You missed him, but you didn’t wonder about it too much. He was a busy man, a superhero, a cabbie and shared a body with two other whole people.

His absence gave you some time to catch up on your tbr list, reply to comments and get to requests. You’re in the middle of an engaging back and forth on a thread when you get a request on anon.

can i request a fic of reader holding jake (preferably against your perfect tits) as he cries?

It’s him. You know it’s him. Was he even trying to disguise himself? You sprint to your dms.

You: Everything ok, buddy?

Jake: whatever do you mean? 😇

You: 🤨 Ok, ok, brb.

You get to work right away.

Get Closer to Me It’s later than the usual time that your husband, Jake, comes home. He always tells you not to wait up for him, but you struggle to fall asleep without him so you might as well stay up watching TV. You’re in one of his T-shirts. It smells like him and the soft cotton caresses your bare skin underneath. Finally you hear the click of his key opening the lock. He steps over the threshold, tired from his night of protecting the city. Something’s wrong. You can tell by the way he doesn’t meet your eyes. If not for the protection of his suit, you’d fear he’d been hurt. He lets you lead him over to the couch where you sit him down. You take off his shoes for him and then sit back. As soon as your ass touches the cushion, he throws his arms around your middle and buries his face in your chest. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you feel his body shuddering with sobs. As much as you rely on his strength, it’s times like this when he trusts you with his vulnerability that makes you feel closest to him. You cherish the moments you get to be his rock. A wet spot blooms between your breasts, soaking in his tears. You run your hands through his hair, using your other hand to graze your nails on his back. You lay together in the stillness and silence of the night until his breath calms and his grip on you eases. You kiss the top of his head and he shifts, nosing the space between your breasts and placing a hand beneath your shirt, traveling over your ribs to squeeze at your flesh. “Jaaake?” you ask lightly, drawing out his name. “Hmmm?” he replies. “What are you doing?” From where his face is firmly planted in your chest, comes his muffled answer, “It’s soothing.” Your body shakes with laughter and relief. If he’s fondling your tit, he’s back to his usual self. There’ll be time tomorrow for talking about what was bothering him. But for now, it was time to take your husband to bed.

You’ve never written or posted something so fast. Before you can even tag him by adding your tag list in a reblog, he’s reblogged it with the comment:

THAT’S WHERE YOU CUT IT OFF?! #why are my eyes suddenly wet #boobies make everything better #currently accepting hugs

Then you get a dm:

Jake: gracias, cariño. i’m feeling much better. 🥹

You: Glad I could help! ❤️

One thing that you and Jake had bonded over was being New Yorkers. Despite not having it in your bio, Jake could tell you were one based on your posts. He messages you that he’ll be in town in just a few days.

You: Are you excited to be coming home?

Jake: i’m more excited to be closer to you.

Wait. Was Jake actually flirting with you?

Jake: do you think i could meet you while i’m there?

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. For the first time in a while you worry that maybe this guy isn’t really Jake. Because it’s not possible that Jake Lockley wants to meet you, right?

When you don’t respond, he messages:

Jake: no pressure if you’re not comfortable.

You: No, I’d love to meet you. It’s just… you could be anyone on the other side of this screen.

Jake: ah. would you like to chat on video?

He gives you his number and you take a few short minutes to freshen up and find a spot with good lighting before you video call him. He picks up right away, his smile lighting up the screen.

“Cariño, eres muy bonita,” he croons. [You are so pretty]

You put a hand over your face in embarrassment.

“No, no, no, don’t cover that pretty face!”

He’s walking around his place, the background shifting behind him as he moves around.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Packing.” He sets up his phone and holds up two pairs of pants. “What do you think? Tight jeans or grey sweats?”

He’s rendered you completely speechless, your mouth is hanging open but no sounds come out.

“¿Por qué no los dos?” He shoves both in his suitcase and picks up his phone, but before he can continue his conversation with you, his attention is drawn to something or someone off camera. You don’t hear anyone but Jake listens with a stony face, then rolls his eyes.

“Lo siento, cariño. I have to go.”

“Was that Khonshu?” you ask, all amazement.

“Unfortunately. See you in a few days?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

You hear him start to yell, presumably at Khonshu, as he hangs up the call.

Jake: no don’t send me your address.

Jake: if i find out you give random people online your address i’m going to be mad. you should care more about your safety.

You were texting with Jake, trying to make plans to meet up and though it would be convenient to have him at your place, he doesn’t want to put you at risk. If an enemy of his sees him there, your place would be compromised.

You: Oh, but it’s ok if I send a random person on the internet a picture of my tits?

Jake: uh, yeah, your tits are beautiful, you should share them with the world.

You’d managed to fend off the nerves until the day of. Now as you make your way to the intersection you’d agreed to meet at, your heart feels like one of those huge timpani drums and like a gorilla is erratically banging on it.

There’s a crush of people and tourists on the sidewalks and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to find him. Though you are like extra super early, so perhaps he’s just not here yet.

As you scan across the street, you walk by a line of yellow cabs - and nearly walk right past him. He’s leaning against his car, flat cap pulled down covering his face, and gloved hands holding a newspaper. He’s reading a newspaper. An actual goddamn newspaper of all things.

He lowers it when you stop in front of him. His eyes scan you and a smile spreads on his lips. “Would you like a ride, señorita?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

He folds up his paper and tosses it into the passenger seat through the open window, then opens the back door for you. For a moment you’re worried he doesn’t recognize you, but then you step toward the door and his hand is on your lower back guiding you into his car. He leans down to your ear to tell you it’s nice to meet you and that you look beautiful today.

You’re too caught up to reply. Up close his brown eyes are even deeper and richer than you could have imagined. His touch is gentle and comforting but the strength in him is unmistakable. And best of all his scent, sharp and heady, his cologne a perfect complement.

Your body still tingles from his touch as he circles around from the back and slides into the driver’s seat. As soon as he shuts his door, it feels like the two of you are in a little bubble. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about the pretense. Can’t be too careful these days. Never quite know who’s watching.”

“That’s okay,” you try to say, but it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat, embarrassment racing up your neck. “So, um, where are we headed? Your place?”

He pulls out into the flow of traffic, and glances in the mirror at you. “We don’t keep a place here. When we visit we usually stay with a friend.”

You wonder if you should be jealous of this friend until you realize he probably means…”Frenchie?”

Jake barks out a laugh. “I’m so glad you all use your powers for smut. If any one of you became a villain we’d be so fucked.”

“‘So fucked’ is kind of what I’m going for.” You can’t believe you said that out loud. Apparently you have no control over your mouth when your panties are soaked.

Jake doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, though you are busy admonishing yourself in the backseat, it doesn’t stop you from catching the way he bites his lip and tightens his grip on the wheel.

Before you can restart the conversation, Jake pulls into a parking deck underneath a hotel and slips into a spot. Was-was he recreating your fic?

You stay in the back as he gets out. He comes around to your door and you expect him to climb in but instead he offers you his hand.

“We’re not staying in the car?” you ask him as you take his hand and he pulls you out.

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “No, cariño. Cab sex is hot in theory but there’s not nearly enough room for what I have planned.”

You’re thankful to still be holding onto him because your knees go weak at that.

As you wait for the elevator, it occurs to you that you don’t know for sure that this is Jake Lockley. Like the real Jake Lockley. There were known to be lookalikes that posed as various superheroes. What if you’d been duped by one?

You’re quiet in the elevator. And through the grand lobby of the hotel complete with a fountain. And when Jake nods to the man dressed very nicely at the reception desk and says, “Buenas tardes, Eduardo.” And when the man returns the nod and says, “Señor Lockley.” And when Eduardo looks right at you and Jake says, “This is [your name].”

You don’t speak until Jake has opened the door to his hotel room and you hesitate before crossing the threshold and you blurt out, “How do I know you’re you?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “How do any of us know who we are?”

God, he’s funny and charming. Even if this turns out not to be the real Jake Lockley, you might fuck him anyway.

“No, I mean how do I know you’re actually you. You look like Jake, but you could be some impersonator, right?”

“Oh, I see.” He ponders for a moment. “If you’re comfortable coming into the room, perhaps I could show you something.”

You still hesitate.

“Okay. No. Good,” he says. “You have a survival instinct after all. Here, I’m going to go in. You watch from the door, but only open it enough for you to see in, okay?”

You nod and Jake goes in and you hold the door open just enough like he said. He turns around and while turning, his clothing appears to morph into a black and white suit, complete with a cape that you know only too well. Your jaw drops open because it’s one thing to see it from a recording where your brain is used to seeing all manner of crazy CGI. But it’s another to witness it right in front of your own two eyes.

You rush in, letting the door close behind you. “Oh my god,” you gush. “Can you keep it on?”

He embraces you and delivers a kiss that feels completely natural like the two of you have done this hundreds of times before, but also nothing like you’ve ever experienced. And maybe that’s one and the same. His breath is minty, and you swear he’s wearing cherry chapstick.

“That will defeat the point, won’t it?,” he says. “This thing doesn’t have a zipper. Besides, it’s really itchy.”

He transforms back while you’re still in his arms, and you have to admit you like him better this way anyway.

It’s not anything like your fics and that makes it magical. There’s more fumbling and laughter and friction. He’s not some love god and you’re not a siren. But there is desire, and it is real.

That One Night Summary: When your date stands you up, but you’re lucky that it happens in the same bar that Jake Lockley frequents. A/N: Special shoutout for the inspiration, you know who you are You’re in Jake Lockley’s hotel room. In the bed. And you’ve just laid eyes on the swollen spear he calls a penis. Your gulp is cartoonishly loud, and your legs press together like they’re Shaggy and Scooby in a haunted mansion. “Don’t worry, cariño. I’m going to get you really wet,” Jake says, crawling on the bed toward you and gently prying your legs open. He settles his face between them and when his tongue touches your clit, your legs fall all the way open and you sink into the bed. You marvel at the way your night has gone. From getting stood up, to trading looks with the hot stranger across the bar, to now being in said stranger’s - no he told you his name, so technically he’s not a stranger anymore - bed. He lifts his mouth off of you and you whine in protest, but he shushes you and a fingertip circles your entrance before dipping gently in. He goes slow, tantalizingly, excruciatingly slow. He works you until you can take two of his thick fingers, then his lips return to suck gently on your swollen nub. He didn’t lie. You are soaking wet, the puddle beneath you more like a lake. You’re at the edge when he asks, “Do you want your first orgasm on my fingers or my dick?” Your body doesn’t give you a choice, the image of either sending you over, and you clench down so hard on his fingers, he mutters, “Fuck.” He sweetly kisses his way up your body as you come down. Planting them on the soft skin of your belly and spending his time covering every inch of your breasts. He ignores your pleas to be fucked, waiting instead until your breathing slows and the coil inside you relaxes. You look up into his deep brown eyes and caress his face, wanting to know this man, his story, his life, what brought him to you tonight. “Ready?” he asks, and you nod. Despite how slippery you are, he’s still big enough for you to feel the stretch. He eases himself into you, breathless praises falling from his mouth. “Doing so good for me.” “You’re taking me so well.” “Tu cuerpo me maneja tan bien.” [Your body handles me so well] When he’s reached your depths, he stays there, letting you get adjusted around him. “Why don’t you show me how you like to play with your tits?” he suggests. You’re self-conscious at first but he watches you, hypnotized, while you tug at your nipples and knead your flesh. It relaxes your pelvic floor enough that Jake can fuck into you. Gently, until he learns how far into you he can go. He’s like a fucking paperweight inside you and you tell him so. “It feels even better from behind,” he informs you. And that’s how you find yourself on your knees, Jake behind you, his heavy cock dragging across your G-spot back and forth with every thrust, the pressure building up until it’s nearly blinding, your legs shaking so bad that he has to hold you up, which is a good thing because your body goes limp when your release comes, and then his cock is jumping inside you (‘twitching’ is too tame for what this monster can do), his spend replacing the weight of him. The bed is soaked, your legs are a sticky mess, and the night is just beginning.

The writing came easy but you debate posting, wavering between wanting to keep your experience to yourself and knowing that no one but you and Jake would know the truth. Ultimately, since you had kept the most personal parts out of the fic and it felt somewhat removed from the real thing, gussied up as it was to be smut-worthy, you decide that you want to share it, and as usual, you click the damn button before you could change your mind.

You wait a while before checking the interactions. This time not caring as much what other people would say, or whether anyone would read it at all. There is only one person’s feedback you’re interested in. And it’s there the next time you open tumblr:

sounds like a really good time. like something i’d like to do again.

#jake lockley smut #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic

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myrleius · 11 days ago

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confidence boost — azumane a.

azumane a. x fem!reader│word count: 1.9k

synopsis: You just wanted to boost Asahi’s confidence but it all went horribly wrong.

cw/tags: fluff, comedy, established relationship

Despite his towering height and intimidating presence, Asahi is a complete sweetheart.

He’s the kind of the boyfriend who listens intently, remembers the little things, and always makes sure you’re comfortable. Whether it’s offering you his jacket when you’re cold, adjusting his pace so you don’t have to rush to keep up, or waiting patiently for you to finish talking before responding, Asahi does it all without a second thought.

You love him so much and genuinely think he’s an amazing person.

You just wished he could see himself the way you do.

Because despite all the love and warmth he gives, Asahi is riddled with insecurities. When he makes a mistake, he doesn’t just acknowledge it—he fixates on it, lets it weigh him down. When people mock him, he takes their words to heart, even when they don’t deserve to be listened to. He hesitates to ask for help, convinced he’s a burden, as if his needs could ever be an inconvenience.

And it breaks your heart.

Because if anyone deserves to feel confident—deserves to see just how wonderful he is—it’s him.

“Yeah,” you say out loud, as if voicing the thought makes it more real.

“Yeah what?” Asahi asks, mid-bite into his lunch, his expression vaguely concerned.

You lean back in your chair, a slow grin spreading across your face as you lazily intertwine your ankles with his under the table.

“I’m going to give you a confidence boost.”

Asahi pauses, chopsticks hovering in his hand. He blinks at you once. Twice. Then cautiously chews the food already in his mouth, as if bracing for impact. “... Why do I feel like this isn’t going to end well?”

“Wow. Rude,” you say, placing a hand over your chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m very good at boosting confidence.”

“Yn…” He levels you with a wary look, clearly not convinced. “You once told Tanaka he had ‘super manly energy’ just to see how many push-ups he’d do in front of Shimizu.”

You hum, tilting your head. “And? He did fifty. He felt unstoppable.”

Asahi sighs, giving you a deadpan look. “Yeah. Until Noya jumped in. They turned it into a contest and accidentally pushed Daichi to the floor. Face first. He made them run laps for an hour after.”

“Okay, that was objectively hilarious,” you argue, grinning. “But my point still stands! My methods work.” You poke his arm insistently. “C’mon, Asahi. It’ll be fun. You’ll feel amazing.”

Asahi exhales slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. He already knows he’s lost.

“Yn…” he tries one last time, weakly.

“Nope.” You cut him off cheerfully, clapping your hands together. “We’re doing this, Asahi. Get ready to become the most self-assured man ever.”

Asahi groans, slouching back. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

You beam. “That’s just the self-doubt talking! But don’t worry, we’ll fix that soon.”

And with that, your plan was officially in motion.

After classes, you made a beeline for the stationery store, determination fueling your every step. The moment you stepped inside, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Brightly colored sticky notes in every neon shade imaginable, something impossible to ignore. The paper felt smooth under your fingers as you flipped through the pack, already picturing the messages you’d scribble down for Asahi.

That night, seated at your desk with a pen in hand, you got to work. Each note carried a message of affirmation wrapped in warmth:

‘No one does it better than you, Asahi! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧’

‘Look around and appreciate all the things going right in your life (like me •⩊•)’

‘Slow progress is still progress! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و’

You didn’t stop there. Little doodles framed each note—stars, tiny volleyballs, even a goofy cartoon version of him with his signature bun. And when the time was right, you’d slip them into his bag, tuck them into his textbooks, or press them between the pages of his notebook when he wasn’t looking.

The best part was watching his reaction.

His brows would furrow at first, confusion flickering across his face, before his lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. Sometimes he’d turn to look at you, but you’d always turn away just in time, biting your lip to hold back a laugh.

At first, the notes were pure encouragement. But after a while, you decided to get a little playful.

‘When life gives you lemons, SQUEEZE THEM INTO THE EYES OF YOUR ENEMIES!!’

‘Together, we’re an 11/10, but let’s be real, you’re carrying the extra point ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ’

‘You didn’t wake up to be a little bitch. Go slay, babe!’

Asahi would groan, rolling his eyes, but he never threw them away. If anything, he held onto them longer, even smoothing out the corners after they’d been crumpled in his palm. You knew he loved them.

For two weeks, everything was going perfectly. You could feel the change in him—his shoulders weren’t so tense, his voice a little stronger when he spoke. Your little experiment was working.

And then, it happened.

It started like any other day. Another note, another hiding spot. This time it was in his book. But when Asahi opened it in the middle of class, it slipped from the pages, fluttering to the floor.

Your stomach dropped.

The teacher, already mid-stride, noticed the note before Asahi could react. Bending down, he picked it up, adjusting his glasses.

“As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm for written communication, Azumane, there’s no passing notes in my class,” he announced.

You stiffened and Asahi’s entire body went rigid, his hands gripping the edges of his desk.

“If you’re so eager to share, let me read it aloud.”

No. No, no, no.

You barely had time to brace yourself before the words left his mouth.

“You are a sexy little peach and I’d love to take a bite of that juicy booty.”

Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.

Your face ignited in flames. Asahi looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his entire soul leaving his body in real time.

Yeah… you were pretty sure you had just emotionally traumatized your boyfriend.

“... And that's what happened,” Asahi muttured, putting down his cup of beer, ears and cheeks tinged pink.

The table exploded with laughter. Tanaka and Nishinoya nearly fell out of their seats, wheezing as they slapped him on the back.

“I almost forgot about that,” Daichi chuckled, shaking his head.

“Remember when we used to call him ‘Sexy Peach’ for a whole month?” Sugawara added, grinning.

Asahi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please for the love of God, stop.”

“But it worked out in the end,” Nishinoya pointed out, pouring Asahi another drink. “Ever since that happened, you stopped being such a wuss.”

Asahi blinked, his hand stilling around the cup.

He hadn’t thought of it like that before.

For years, he had carried his insecurities, convinced that no matter how much time passed, the self-doubt would always be there, whispering that he wasn’t enough.

But somewhere along the way, those doubts had let up.

It wasn’t because he had suddenly stopped making mistakes or because he had magically become more confident overnight.

It was because he had learned—slowly, painfully, and with far too much embarrassment—that mistakes weren’t the end of the world. That being laughed at didn’t mean he wasn’t loved. That messing up didn’t mean he wasn’t enough.

Back then, if someone had told him he would someday be able to sit here and retell that story without wanting to disappear, he wouldn’t have believed them.

Yet here he was.

Still standing, moving forward. He was still surrounded by the same friends who had teased him mercilessly, sure, but who had also always been there, cheering him on.

And yn.

God, yn.

She had been horrified after the whole thing. He could still remember the way she had chased after him once class was over, face red and soaked in tears, words tumbling out between hiccups like a glitching robot.

“Asahi—I didn’t mean—hic—I just—hic—I swear I wasn’t—sniff—”

And then she just sobbed and Asahi went into full panic mode.

“Yn—Yn, breathe,” he had blurted out, hands hovering awkwardly. “You’re going to pass out at this rate!”

But she wasn’t listening, only wailing into his chest while he stood there, frantically rubbing circles into her back.

And thus, instead of disappearing off the face of the earth like he had planned, Asahi spent the next hour reassuring his very remorseful girlfriend that no, he wasn’t mad, and yes, he still loved her.

But that wasn’t enough for her.

For the next week, she had dedicated herself to earning his forgiveness—buying him drinks, giving him shoulder massages, literally hand-feeding him snacks like some kind of king.

She had even offered to write herself a note to publicly embarrass herself in return, because apparently, “equal emotional damage” was the only fair form of justice.

(He had gently declined that one.)

Still, the truth was, he hadn't even been mad.

Humiliated? Absolutely.

But mad? Never.

Not when she had always seen something in him he hadn’t seen in himself, when she spent all that time sneaking those ridiculous, sticky notes into his things, determined to make him believe in himself.

He wasn’t the same person he had been in high school.

The insecurities were still there, lingering at the edges, but they no longer dictated his life. He had learned to push past them, to embrace the imperfections, and if he ever stumbled, he would always get back up.

Asahi exhaled, shaking his head with a small, fond smile.

“Yeah,” he admitted. "I guess it did."

The group cheered, clinking glasses, still teasing him mercilessly, but Asahi didn't mind. For once, the warmth in his chest overpowered the embarrassment.

Later that night, as he fished his wallet out of his bag, something fluttered onto the floor.

A sticky note.

His breath hitched as he picked it up, already recognizing the familiar handwriting. Even after all these years, even after getting married, yn still found ways to sneak love into the most unexpected moments.

He unfolded the note, his lips curving as he read:

‘Get home safe, okay?? I need my sexy little peach in one piece!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡’

Asahi groaned, burying his burning face in his hands. But even as he did, he couldn't stop the grin spreading across his lips.

He carefully folded the note and tucked it into his wallet, right next to a tiny stack of others just like it.

God, he loved that woman.

#haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #asahi azumane #asahi x reader #asahi x you #asahi x y/n #azumane x reader #hq asahi #haikyuu asahi #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #fluff #fanfic

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thefemmefatalexo · 2 months ago

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Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake

Chapter 1 - Invisible in the Spotlight

Summary: The campus buzzes with life, but you feel like a shadow slipping through the cracks—unnoticed, unimportant. At home, it’s no better. Your parents dote on your step-sister, the star tennis player, while you’re the afterthought they barely acknowledge. She’s here too, her perfect reputation casting an even bigger shadow over your existence. College was supposed to be your escape, but living at home and walking the same halls as her makes it impossible. Then he shows up—Satoru Gojo, the rich, arrogant engineering major everyone seems to worship. His smug grin and effortless charm are the kind of things you can’t stand, but when a ridiculous twist of fate forces your lives together, you find yourself fake dating the most insufferable man you’ve ever met. It’s just a deal, temporary and harmless—or so you try to convince yourself.

an: Welcome to chapter one guys! Feedback is appreciated as always hehe. Also, the taglists for all of my stories are still OPEN, so make sure to get tagged so you don’t miss out on any new chapters! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{introduction} ; {next}

taglist: @hanakotateyama @sleepykittyenergy

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Campus is chaos, as always. The sidewalks are packed with students rushing to their next class or chatting in tight little groups like they’ve known each other forever. It’s the first month of the semester, but it feels like everyone’s already found their place—everyone but you. You walk with your head down, weaving through the crowd as quietly and invisibly as possible. That’s been your strategy for years now. It works. Mostly.

You didn’t think living at home while attending college would feel so… stifling. At first, it seemed like the logical choice: save money, stay close to the familiar, and avoid the pressure of navigating both a new school and a new city. But now you’re not so sure. Sharing a roof with your parents and your step-sister, Mia, is starting to feel like you’re suffocating.

The comparisons never stop. Mia, the perfect daughter with her flawless tennis career and her endless achievements. She’s a campus celebrity in her own right—everyone knows her name, her face, her victories. And then there’s you. The one people glance at for a second before looking past you. The one who never quite measures up.

You pull your hoodie tighter around you as you pass a group of students standing by the fountain. One of them mentions Mia’s name, and you feel your stomach twist. Something about her latest tournament win, how she’s heading to the finals soon. It’s not surprising, but it still stings. She’s everywhere. Even here.

You shake the thoughts away and head toward the coffee shop near the engineering building. It’s your usual escape—a place to grab a moment of quiet before your next class. The line is long when you step in, but the familiar smell of coffee and the soft hum of indie music make it worth the wait. You tug your phone out of your pocket, scrolling mindlessly through messages you’re too tired to respond to.

That’s when it happens.

The force of someone slamming into you from behind nearly sends you tumbling forward. Your bag slips off your shoulder, and your coffee almost flies out of your hands.

“Whoa, careful there,” a smooth voice says, almost lazily, as though you were the one at fault.

You turn around, already annoyed, and find yourself face-to-face with him.

Satoru Gojo.

Of course, it’s him. Because who else would nearly knock you over and then smile at you like you owe him an apology? His snowy white hair practically glows under the fluorescent lights, and his blue eyes—hidden behind those ridiculous round sunglasses—glint with amusement. He’s tall, too tall, and he carries himself with the kind of confidence that only someone who’s never been told “no” can manage.

You’ve seen him around. Everyone has. Satoru Gojo is one of those people you can’t ignore even if you try. He’s an engineering major with top grades, an influential family name, and a reputation that precedes him. Girls throw themselves at him. Guys want to be him. He’s the king of campus—loud, obnoxious, and completely full of himself.

And now, unfortunately, he’s staring right at you.

“I think you dropped something,” he says, gesturing to your bag on the floor.

“No, really? Thanks for pointing that out,” you deadpan, bending down to pick it up.

When you straighten, his grin is still plastered on his face. It’s infuriatingly smug, like he’s thoroughly enjoying this interaction.

“You’re new,” he states, as if it’s a fact.

You glance around the room, hoping the line will move faster. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I know everyone here, and I definitely don’t know you,” he says, leaning casually against the counter like this is the most fascinating conversation he’s had all day.

“Congratulations. You’ve solved the mystery. I’m new.”

There’s a pause, and you can feel his eyes studying you, probably trying to figure out why you’re not falling all over yourself like the others do. “You don’t seem very impressed by me,” he finally says, and there’s a mock pout in his tone.

You can’t help but snort. “Why would I be?”

His grin widens, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? You don’t care enough to figure it out.

You step forward as the line moves, eager to order and leave before he decides to keep talking. But, of course, he follows.

“New girl, huh? So, what’s your name?”

“None of your business,” you reply, still not looking at him.

“Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically. “Cold and mysterious. I like it.”

You roll your eyes and finally make it to the counter, ordering the cheapest coffee on the menu. As you fumble with your wallet, you hear him behind you, ordering something unnecessarily complicated and way too expensive.

When you turn to leave, you catch his gaze one last time. His grin hasn’t wavered. “See you around, mystery girl,” he calls after you.

You don’t bother responding, walking out the door as quickly as you can.

But as you step back into the crowd, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s right.

Because as much as you want to stay invisible, something tells you Satoru Gojo isn’t about to let that happen.

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hidden-ember · 1 year ago

Text

simon says

🗯 pairing: captain john price x fem!reader | simon ghost riley x fem!reader

🗯 tags: nsfw - mdni, cucking, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected pinv, established relationship, praise, ooc as fuck i'm sure

a/n: this one was incredibly self indulgent, so i got a little carried away with it. i fully intend to do a pt. 2 if you all want that!

You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in: your husband of several years just confessed to you he had always had a fantasy of watching you with another man. You expressed that you weren’t opposed to the idea; as long as it was something he truly wanted then you’d do your best to please him.

When he threw out some names of people you may be interested in he never expected to see a spark of desire in your eyes as he mentioned his former boss.

“Oh really?” Ghost asked with a raise of his eyebrow, his tone laced with amusement.

“Y-yeah,” you said shyly, not wanting to go into detail about how attractive you found Captain Price.

The older man led Simon in a specialized task force for a few years, both having since moved on to different military ventures and then retirement.

Price had always caught your eye at any get-together he and the rest of Ghost’s former team would attend, and you had never imagined revealing this attraction to your husband. Until now.

Any time he would tower over you while making small talk, cerulean eyes subtly trailing down to your lips and chest before meeting your gaze you had to fight to keep your face from flushing.

Your dreams the nights after these gatherings would be filled with visions of the Captain buried between your legs, his facial hair prickling your skin as he worked you with his mouth until your legs were trembling.

Ghost cleared his throat, sensing you were deep in thought. “I’ll text him now?”

Once you gave him the go ahead he reached for his phone. His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped out a message, inviting Price over Friday evening for some ‘fun’.

He tossed his phone down and leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to enjoy watching you with him.”

“I hope so, Simon, because I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” you responded, pulling back to look at him. You wanted him to know even though you were indulging him in this fantasy, you would never imagine being unfaithful to him without his knowledge and without him being involved.

Ghost met your gaze, his eyes filled with appreciation and desire for you. “I know, love.”

You left it at that, both carrying on with the rest of your week without mentioning it again until shortly before Price’s arrival.

“You’re still okay with this, yeah?” Ghost wrapped his arms around you from behind as you did your makeup in the mirror.

“More than okay,” you reassured him as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Easy now,” he chuckled, a hint of warning in his tone.

That was the best thing about this arrangement. You had always been attracted to Price and were eager to explore that, but you were most looking forward to what came after.

You knew that once he watched Price fuck you, Ghost would be ravenous. You had a long night ahead of him proving to you that while he may allow another man to touch you, they’d never be able to touch you better than he could.

“I don’t know what to wear.” Your face grew hot as you began wondering what Price would think when he saw you again.

“Anything,” Ghost replied firmly. “You look great in anything.”

“Well I have that dress from-,” you paused when he began shaking his head.

“That won’t be necessary,” he murmured against your neck, trailing soft kisses down it as his hands settled on your stomach. “You’ll be waiting for us in the bedroom, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whispered, realization dawning on you that he was suggesting you wear lingerie.

"Hmmm. Price seems like the type to enjoy white." You thought out loud, a lace baby doll you had in your dresser coming to mind. "Something about corrupting a good girl."

“S’that what you are?” Ghost smirked while making eye contact with you in the mirror.

You laughed away his teasing, knowing he was only attempting to get you riled up. “Oh, please. If anyone’s corrupted me it’s you, but let me have my fun.”

"That's perfect," he agreed, his eyes roaming over the reflection of your body, envisioning the delicate white lace. "He's going to love seeing you like that." He leaned in close and whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky, “And so will I.”

His stiffening cock was now pressing firmly into the small of your back and you grinned at him in the mirror. “I can see you’re very excited about this.”

Ghost's eyes darted downward before meeting yours again, a mix of embarrassment and desire flushing his cheeks. "Not every day my wife offers up herself and her body for another man," he confessed with a shrug that did little to hide his arousal.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” You squeezed his hands reassuringly. “It’s hot you’re so into this.”

"Thank you," Ghost whispered as he wrapped his arms around you tighter. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect for Price tonight. He deserves it."

“Yeah? Deserves to fuck your wife?” You teased, knowing it would only make the hardness poking into your back ache even more.

Ghost chuckled darkly at your words. "Yeah, he does," he growled while pressing his hips forward slightly into you with a noticeable amount of possession in his movement. "And I plan to enjoy every filthy second of it."

You spun around to face him, and he immediately stepped forward, pushing you into the edge of the vanity. Ghost groaned as he felt your hands slip beneath his shirt to stroke his stomach, a thick layer of fat having formed over his abs since retirement that drove you crazy in all the right ways.

"Don't tease me like that," he warned when your fingers moved higher up his chest.

"Fine,” you conceded with a soft sigh, sliding out from under his shirt. “I’ll keep my hands to myself until he arrives.”

"That’s a good girl," he praised, loving how aroused you were getting. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands on your waist. "Now, why don't you get dressed and wait for us on the bed, hmm?”

As you moved to put on the white lace number and matching silk thong you knew both men would adore you in, Ghost left for the living room, leaving your bedroom door slightly ajar. You bit down on your lip nervously when you heard the doorbell buzz not even a few minutes later.

Ghost’s heart raced with anticipation as he approached the front door and saw Price’s silhouette against the dim street light shining through the glass. He knew you were waiting for them in the bedroom, dressed in the lingerie that he had helped pick out and he had to make an effort to appear nonchalant as he opened the door for Price.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart rate quickening as you heard the Captain’s commanding voice fill your home. Their conversation was muffled, but the distinct sound of ice and alcohol being poured made you smirk to yourself.

The pair catching up over a drink like former colleagues while you were waiting in the bedroom like a piece of meat to be devoured only added to your arousal, the wetness gathering between your legs becoming more prominent the longer they left you alone. Ghost seemed to be carrying most of the conversation for once, probably out of sheer excitement.

Price appeared to be enjoying himself as well, laughing at something Ghost said before they made their way to the bedroom together.

As they entered the room your eyes darted between your husband and his friend, unsure who to look at. The click of the door closing echoed through your mind as you pictured what was about to happen.

Ghost took a step towards you, his eyes fixed on your body as he admired the sexy lingerie that clung to your curves. He couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness as he turned to look at Price, who was now standing close behind him.

He swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam's apple betraying his nervousness, before stepping to the side and sitting in the armchair at the corner of your room.

Price looked you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of your exposed body. His eyes lingered on your full breasts before traveling back up to meet yours.

"You look bloody incredible, Mrs. Riley," he smirked, knowing it would drive Ghost mad to hear you being referred to with his last name. You were his after all and Price would do well to remember that. You glanced at Simon briefly, surprised to see his face beaming with pride rather than annoyance as he watched Price approach you.

“Thank you, John,” you blushed, having to crane your neck to look at him the closer he got to the bed. The lamp in the corner illuminated his face as he stood before you and you noticed even more gray hair dusting his temples and beard than the last time you saw him.

He wasted no time before kneeling down, his calloused hands running up and down your thighs lightly before stopping at your knees. You were sure your face was completely bright red now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh, sweet thing,” Price let out a breath as he spread your legs. “You’re soaked already.”

He placed a kiss to your core through your panties, holding eye contact with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Ghost sat up a little straighter in his seat at the sight.

The silk fabric clung to your folds now, saturated with your arousal. You felt yourself throbbing now, cunt desperate for attention. Many nights you had dreamed of being in this exact position, his handsome face staring up at you from between your legs.

Disappointment must have been evident on your face as Price pulled back and shifted on his feet, moving to lean over you. Your pouting drew a raspy chuckle out of your husband.

“Needy girl you have, Simon,” Price observed with a small smile, turning to look at him. He gave a single nod in response, eager for Price to continue.

With gentle hands he brushed your hair behind your shoulders as his gaze roamed your chest, his hum of satisfaction reverberating through the room. He unfastened the clasp on the front of the baby doll, letting it fall off of you and onto the bed.

Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit your skin. Price’s hands found their way to your breasts immediately, beginning to roll his thumbs over your nipples in tight circles. He studied your face closely as it contorted in pleasure, admired the way your breath caught in your throat audibly at the sensation.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you,” Price whispered into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin. His lips brushed against your earlobe and your eyes widened, finding Ghost’s. He watched you with a hunger and possessiveness you had never seen from him before, clearly having heard what the other man said to you.

You gasped in surprise when Price’s lips latched onto your nipple, too distracted by Simon to realize he had wandered lower once more. You moaned softly as his tongue circled the hardened bud, back arching as he squeezed your other breast roughly.

Ghost watched attentively from his corner seat, a mix of arousal and pride coursing through him. He could tell by the way that you were responding that Price was taking good care of you, making sure you were enjoying every moment.

Price’s mouth left your tit and he captured your lips in a kiss. It felt strange at first but you softened, losing yourself to the feeling of him. The kiss deepend as Price’s tongue slid past your lips, tasting you for the first time. His hands wandered down your body, teasingly grazing the hem of your panties before finally slipping beneath to run along your slick folds.

“All this for me, hm?” Price murmured against your lips.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. A half truth. It was for him, yes. But it was just as much for Simon, who was now palming himself through his jeans.

Seeing how excited you were already, he didn’t hesitate to part your folds, circling your entrance once before pumping two fingers inside of you. You let out an exasperated gasp and squirmed as he did.

“Oh, c’mon, angel. I know you can take it.” He winked at you before continuing. “This is nothing compared to your husband’s cock,” he said playfully before curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting faster now.

"That's a good girl," he praised you as he felt your relax around his fingers, rewarding you by pressing circles into your swollen clit in a steady rhythm with his thumb.

Ghost could tell by the sounds you were making that you were getting close already, the thought only serving to fuel his arousal. His chest tightened as he watched Price work you open. You faintly made out the sound of a zipper as your senses started to be overloaded, vision blurry and ears ringing.

“Fuck, John. I’m close,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his free one to steady yourself as your climax rapidly approached. His muscles tensed under your grip; he was every bit as strong as you had imagined.

Price tutted at you, shaking his head. “Ask your husband for permission, dear.”

“Simon,” you pleaded. “Simon, please, I-” your breath was coming in ragged gasps, leaving you incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Let go, love,” you heard him from the corner of the room. The way his voice strained told you that he was stroking his cock as he listened to you begging for release. Begging him despite another man being the one to drive you to orgasm.

Price grabbed you by the chin, angling it upwards and pressing his lips to yours, stifling your cries of pleasure as you came undone. As if he could keep your release all to himself like this, swallowing it down so Ghost couldn’t have it.

Ghost watched intently as Price took control of the situation, his body tense with anticipation for what was about to happen. He could feel his own climax building inside him, mirroring your pleasure as he listened to your cries of ecstasy being muffled by the other man’s kiss.

As Price continued to milk your orgasm, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, this time low enough that Ghost couldn’t hear, “You were never quite this pretty all the times I’ve imagined you coming.”

He pulled away slowly, leaving you panting and covered in sweat. His eyes met Ghost’s once more before he finally released you from his grasp. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs trembling as you tried to catch your breath. He pulled your panties off, eyes glued to your glistening cunt.

“Lie back for me, sweetheart,” John ordered as he moved for his zipper, desperate to free his throbbing cock. You did as he said, gaze locked on his crotch as he tugged down his pants and boxers.

As his cock sprang free, you hated the way you instantly noticed it wasn’t as big as Ghost’s. It wasn’t small by any means, maybe even a bit longer, but not as thick. You had gotten so used to feeling stuffed full by Ghost that now a part of you was anxious to have another man for the first time in years. What if you were spoiled? What if your husband had ruined you for all other cocks?

You glanced in his direction, noting the small smirk tugging at his lips and you knew he was aware of exactly what was on your mind. Smug bastard, you thought to yourself before returning your attention to Price, opening your legs wider for him.

Ghost’s expression remained impassive as he watched Price line himself up and penetrate you. His hand twitched unconsciously, the urge to reach out and claim what was rightfully his burning within him. But he held back, remaining silent and still, his hand freezing on his cock.

You moaned as Price buried himself to the hilt, having quickly forgotten any anxiety you were feeling a moment before. He let you adjust to his length before pulling out completely and slamming his hips forward, causing you to yelp. Ghost began pumping himself again as he saw how rough his friend was with you, how well you were taking him.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he pounded into you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

His arms fell to either side of your head as he leaned in to nibble at your neck. From this angle his gut pushed into your stomach - the only distinction between the sensation of his and your husband’s was John’s more pronounced happy trail.

He reached down between the two of you and began roughly rubbing at your sensitive clit again. His tempo didn't falter and he was hitting your g-spot with each stroke, white-hot pleasure clouding your mind and turning you into a mumbling mess beneath him.

“Yeah? Like that?” Price cooed at you and your toes curled. He kept up his pace, relentlessly pummeling you.

“Yes. God, yes,” you whined. The sounds of skin on skin and moaning filled the room from all three of you now.

Your walls contracted around Price and your back arched, pressing your bodies flush together as you surrendered yourself to him completely.

“Come for me,” he encouraged with a hint of ownership. Not of you, but of this orgasm. The last one may have been for Ghost, but this one would be for him.

He thrust into you more deliberately now, bottoming out each time. You let out a strangled moan as you climaxed again. Ghost came with you, spurting into his hand as he squeezed his cock tightly, his own sounds of pleasure drowned out by yours.

You whimpered as John suddenly pulled out of you and moved to stand at the edge of the bed. “C’mere,” he croaked, quickly sitting you up and bringing your head down towards his cock.

“You didn’t think I’d let anyone else finish inside that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?” Ghost murmured from the corner, voice hoarse as he was spent from his own release.

You shifted your gaze to Simon before parting your lips for Price. “Mm, see how you taste on another man’s cock?” He taunted as you wrapped your mouth around the head.

Though your eyes stayed glued to Ghost’s, you attempted a nod in response. Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly took more of his shaft into your mouth.

“Simon says you’re good with your mouth. I intend to take full advantage of that,” he said, grunting as he pushed himself deep into your throat, your eyes returning to him.

As you moaned around his cock he smirked down at you. "Oh, you like it rough, do you?" He quickly lost control, hips meeting your face as he thrust in rhythm with your mouth.

You had mixture of saliva and pre-cum running down your chin now, mascara staining your cheeks. Ghost had you in a similar state countless times before while fucking your face, but seeing you like this wrapped around someone else's cock was turning him on in an entirely new way.

In an attempt to prolong his release, Price tangled his fingers into your hair, holding you in place at the base of his cock. When you gagged he loosened his grip, allowing you to back off a bit before you started bobbing your head on his length again. "That feels incredible," he said, admiring the way you milked his cock.

His balls were already tight, and you pushed him over the edge once you began to caress them with feather-light touches. He threw his head back with a low groan, frame tensing as he shot thick ropes of cum down your throat. His hips jerked forward as you hollowed out your cheeks. You swallowed most of his spend and pulled off of his cock with a satisfied moan.

He brushed the hair away from your face, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. His thumb trailed over your bottom lip, collecting the bit of cum that had dribbled out. He held it there for you, waiting for you to clean it off. You took it into your mouth, taking your time cleaning him, savoring the taste as you swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out with a loud pop once he caught his breath.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, referring to your performance just as much as your disheveled appearance.

“That she is,” Ghost said, rising from his seat, looking at you with a predatory gaze. He tucked his still semi-hard cock into his pants and your stomach tightened at the sight.

Price zipped himself up as well and turned to Ghost. You were surprised he wouldn’t be staying, but it was clear the two men had discussed all the details beforehand.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t want anyone here for the depraved things I’m gonna do to you,” Ghost threatened in a low tone that had you clenching around nothing. Price let out a hearty laugh before turning back to you.

“Thank you for being so good for me,” he murmured and cupped your face in his hands. When Ghost cleared his throat behind him, he corrected himself with a sheepish grin. “Good for us.”

He gave you a genuine smile and a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving for the front door with Ghost. They exchanged goodbyes and the last you heard from Price as you walked to the doorway was, “Don’t be a stranger now, Simon.”

Shortly after you heard the door swing shut your husband was on you. “Alright, back to bed with you,” Simon grinned, smacking your ass playfully. You giggled, walking backwards, eyes never leaving him as he stripped.

“You’re mine,” he reminded you with a growl before his lips crashed into yours, the two of you falling onto the bed.

#cod smut #price x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #*mine

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ilium-ilia · 1 month ago

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I don’t know man, I figured I would ask you personally about this because I’ve gotten two asks now that were quite rude about it, saying I shouldn’t “copy” fics or steal your prompts. But I made a post saying that I had a horrible dark fic idea inspired by your “hole in the earth” fic. I didn’t go into much detail about it in the post but in the tags all I said was that I was thinking about a sort of aftermath situation of it, if John died and the Reader character went insane, trigger warning for child death in the idea I was having. Basically in no way actually copying your fic, just inspired by your work. The lobotomy, if I were to even actually write it, probably wouldn’t even be mentioned and more focus on Stockholme syndrome and kidnapping. Sorry this is long but I’m just kinda annoyed by the anons I’m getting, does this bother you? Seem too close to your work for comfort? Would you call it “copying”? - @cobwebs-in-autumn

Okay, well I didn't want to make this public, and you blocked me, and I'm tired of people walking all over me when it comes to stealing my work, I'm going to explain the situation here and set boundaries right now. Again. Because I'm so sick and fucking tired of dealing with this.

First off, I would like to say don't harass this person. Don't send anon messages, or hate, or comment on their posts, or anything. I'm only bringing this out because you guys need to learn to respect writers. I've deleted two accounts because of shit like this and I'm NOT letting it get to me a third time.

Anyway, so I get sent this anon message. The fic they're referring to is one that isn't posted on tumblr, but is here on AO3. It's a very dark fic, basically where Price kidnaps a wife, and when she doesn't act the way he wants her to, he has her lobotomized so that she's more "docile." It's a horror fic. This person then decided that they wanted to write a continuation of the fic, therefore stealing my idea without my permission. (no matter how much they want to claim they were only inspired, a continuation without permission is still stealing!!)

Now, many of you had kindly pointed out to this person that the idea was very similar to mine. And they very much admitted in this anon ask that it was an aftermath situation of MY fic. But this seemed to annoy them.

"I’m just kinda annoyed by the anons I’m getting"

(you know what else is annoying? people copying or "finishing" your works without permission!!)

So, I then went to this person in dm's to tell them, yeah no, I'm not cool with this at all.

because frankly, why the fuck would i be cool with that lmao. I was pretty short with my messages, but I was being firm. Like I've done this shit before, I'm not doing it again.

They do not respond to the message, and instead, ignore me and reblog their post with this.

Which is fucking amazing actually. So insanely disrespectful that I couldn't help but laugh because how do you see someone saying "Hey, this makes me uncomfortable and you're stealing my idea" and you go and post that? "I feel this is far enough" But you're not going to talk it out to the writer you claim to respect so much?

Anyway so I point this out in the dms because that's just insanely disrespectful.

And I also commented because I was getting anxious that people were going to start pushing them to write the idea that was pretty much mine lmao.

Eventually they responded with this:

Which is also just fucking insane. Basically gaslighting me saying "oh I'll just write something similar but not" (Not to mention the fact their new idea sounds like early's fic anyway lol) But no apology, just fucking clout chasing using my name and idea, for whatever reason. So I sent them a rather rambling response about how that this still isn't okay, I still never received an apology from them, or anything of the like.

And I'm sure you guys saw some of my posts because I was upset. (the misgendering and the incorrectly correcting my name, and saying how i'm not at all okay with people using my works as inspiration). This has happened to me so so so often (and many other writers!) and I'm sick of it. It's annoying. This person has written so many other works and ideas that were their own and that's what I love about fandom- but this? Yeah.

So I waited for a response from them. Clicked on our messages and oh?

Everything's gone. weird. maybe send another message.

oh!

maybe it's tumblr. logged out. logged back in. no history with them in my dm's period. (mind, I can still message everyone else just fine!)

So yeah. This is bullshit, and I'm sick of it. Private conversations do not help. I'm tired of trying to protect people who are wronging me for the sake of their feelings when they so obviously trample and disregard mine. Especially with these answers to your asks here:

This is so frustrating.

Writing continuations of someone's work is never okay. Writing ideas based off of their work without asking them is never okay. And to block me when I point out my discomfort just because you're (assumingely) upset i didn't take your side? And STILL keeping the post up? (at least at the time I'm posting this) Yeah, sorry, I'm tired of letting this shit slide and keeping this quiet. I tried to reach out in DM's to resolve it quietly and that didn't work.

Respect your writers. This is a community. Ask people. If you like my idea so much, then maybe comment or tell me in my asks instead of ripping me off. I'm literally always so happy to talk about my ideas and "what if's" and I'm sure many other writers are too! We literally scream it from the rooftops!

But no, you'd rather steal my shit for clout instead.

again: do not fucking dogpile on this person. just block and move on. unfortunately this isn't their main account, so they're gonna be able to see my shit no matter what I do, but oh well. maybe at least we can all learn that this is not cool at all.

anons are off for now, and any stupid asks will just be blocked/deleted.

#ilium revelation #i feel like people are baiting me into deleting my blog atp lmao #not gonna happen because no offense but no one can write my ideas better than me #pale fucking immitations

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f1byjessie · 1 year ago

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part seven.

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yourusername had to take these pictures myself bc apparently angles are “too hard”

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landonorris maybe you should’ve just asked me 🙄

↳ yourusername as much as i love your results you turn what should be a quick 5 mins into a 20 min photoshoot

↳ landonorris yes and?? i’m not seeing what the downside is 🤨

user HOW MANY LETTERS IN SARGEANT???

user literally who needs boys when girls like y/n exist

↳ user REAL

logansargeant i know about angles

↳ yourusername yes logie and your future girlfriends will thank me for it 🫶

user that dress is stunning and i want it but i know it costs more than a month’s worth of my pay 🥲🥲🥲

user ferrari spotted = y/n for ferrari 2024

↳ user get that girl in a formula car and leT HER DRIVE

oscarpiastri in my defense your heels make you as tall as me 🫤

↳ yourusername methinks it’s just bc you only know how to take one type of picture and it’s the awkward dad kind 🫤

user OSCAR??? HAS OUR HUSBAND RETURNED FROM THE WAR???

↳ user mama y papa

user OP81 IS BACK IN THESE COMMENTS WAR IS OVER

With Oscar by your side, time passes quickly. You don’t bring up that the first night you shared a bed, you’d woken up in the morning with his arm wrapped around your waist and his breath tickling the back of your neck, and you certainly don’t mention that he’d practically whined in his sleep when you’d slipped out of his grasp. It doesn’t happen again, but there’s a part of you hoping that it does.

The days blend together into a haze of happiness, laughter, and exploring the beauty of Monaco. Lando shows you the best spots— a garden just off the Monte Carlo marina, a famous nightclub that takes your breath away, and a small cafe at the edge of the city that overlooks it all.

Things are good, great even, but you can’t help but feel like there’s still some distance between you and Oscar despite his reassurance that everything is fine.

When New Year’s Eve— and subsequently your birthday— arrives, you’re awoken to a flurry of texts. Your parents have both sent sweet messages wishing you the best, Sophia has left a voice message with sounds of traffic in the background telling you she’s planning to get wasted and if you do too then you can just pretend you’re wasted together, and Dalton has made a group chat with you and Logan and has spammed you both with pictures of yourselves from across the years.

Oscar’s already gone, and his side of the bed is cold, so you take your time responding to them all and then shoot off a message of your own to Logan before getting up. It’s your first time not celebrating with your brother, and it feels strange knowing that you won’t get to see him today, but you’re excited nonetheless for the plans Lando and the other drivers in Monaco have organized for New Year’s Eve.

The day passes by lazily. Lando and Oscar both greet you with birthday wishes when you make your way down to the living room and then they present to you a feast for breakfast, which you realize is the reason Oscar was awake so much earlier than you. It’s the best breakfast you’ve ever had, mostly because they make fools of themselves retelling how many times they had to scrap the failed waffles until they got it right. You spend lunch at a place close by, joined by Alex and Lily who have flown in for the New Year, and then the rest of the afternoon you wait around at Lando’s place passing the time watching the boys play games on the TV and helping either of them cheat when asked.

You’re happy.

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logansargeant people say twins are like built-in best friends, and if that’s the case then i’m glad i got you as mine. i can’t imagine having anyone else stick by my side throughout all the crazy and wild shit we’ve been through in our lives. it feels like just yesterday we were 13 and acting as each other's lifelines in a place we barely knew, and now we’re 23 and somehow doing the same thing. you’re my best friend forever.

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yourusername love you to the moon and back again logie 🫶 (but omg these pictures are so OLD)

↳ logansargeant love you to the stars and beyond 🫶 (yea well when else am i gonna post them?)

user i thought the only reason i’d be crying today is bc i don’t have a nye kiss but here we are aND THE BABY HANDS OMG

user I CAN’T DO THIS 😭😭😭

user sobbing over a birthday post was not on my 2023 bingo but i’ll be sure to add it to 2024 if this is gonna be a yearly thing

↳ user birthdays are a yearly thing so yea 💀

user i can’t stop thinking about the fact that each other was all they had when logan pursued racing in europe and now logan’s made it to f1 and they’re still all they have 😭

↳ user the sargeant twins are genuinely gonna be the death of me one of these days

user Y/N HAS BEEN THERE FOR HIM SINCE THE BEGINNING OMG

williamsracing Happiest of birthdays to Y/N! We look forward to seeing you out on the paddock more in 2024, and can’t wait to see what the new year has in store for you! 💙

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, and 41,974 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername 23 + 23 = 46. 4 + 6 = 10. 10 - 2 = 8 and that’s what we’ve done for the last 23 years 😎 but real talk, i’m genuinely so honored to get to be your sister, and to share so much with you. when you win i share that joy, and when you lose i share that grief, and even though we’re an ocean away, i’m with you today and always for the rest of our lives. you’re my best friend, and even if i don’t have anything or anyone else, i know i have you and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world ❤️.

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user ATE ATE ATE

logansargeant went through all the stages of grief as i read that caption

↳ yourusername i do try

↳ logansargeant i know

user HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARGEANT TWINS

user these pictures of logan are SENDING ME

↳ user y/n always feeds the ppl the low qual pics

alex_albon adding these to my folder of embarrassing pictures to blackmail logan with

↳ yourusername happy doing business with you sir 🤝

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user my mental health is dependent on the friendship between y/n and logan and it is STRUGGLING today lads

user can’t wait to see more of them in 2024!!

Lando finds you as you’re getting ready, putting the final touches on your makeup. He enters when you tell him to, and then leans against the bathroom counter for a moment just staring at you before you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“How are things going between you and Oscar?”

You lower the mascara wand and shrug, “I mean, it’s good.”

“But?” He prompts.

“But I feel like he’s still… being weird?” You slip the wand back into the mascara tube and then tuck it back into your bag. “I don’t know. Maybe we were a bit too realistic with the whole ‘making him jealous’ thing, and now he believes you’ve stuck your claim and he’s distancing himself because he doesn’t want to step on your toes or something.”

Lando snorts, “As if. I made him share a room with you, how does that in any way imply that I’m trying to stake my claim on you?”

You run a hand through your hair because you can’t run it down your face without ruining your freshly done makeup, and heave a sigh. “Then maybe he just isn’t actually interested in me at all, and I was right about him wanting to pretend the kiss never happened.”

He hums, then nods once, twice, a third time, and finally leaves the bathroom without another word.

When you finally follow him down, a number of people have already arrived— Alex and Lily are among them, and you greet them again with smiles and hugs. You’re introduced to Max Fewtrell, one of Lando’s close friends, and then you’re dragged away by Lily to hang out in the corner of the living room as the house begins to fill with current and former drivers alike.

“It’s a sausage fest,” she jokes, and you laugh beside her.

You both make conversation for a while, catching up on her and Alex’s holiday spent in California with her family and then talking about your own in Florida with yours. She asks how Logan’s doing, and you tell her that he’s well, but he’s really motivated and wants the chance to prove himself in the 2024 season already.

“I think the online discourse about whether or not he deserved a seat got to him a bit,” you admit. “But I know he can show them that there’s a reason he was chosen.”

Lily nods. “Me and Alex have faith in him too. It was his rookie year and he was in a Williams of all things. Like you said, there was a reason he was chosen, he just needs the opportunity to show the world that.”

You jump from topic to topic for a little while longer, until you excuse yourself to go find where Lando and Oscar have run off to. The guests have all arrived from the looks of it, and while a number of them all know each other already and have split off into groups to stay entertained, you’re not sure exactly how you’re meant to handle things on your own when it isn’t even your house—

“I mean, it��s fine, yeah? It’s just awkward with her, I guess.” You pause. The door to you and Oscar’s shared room is ajar and Oscar’s voice is just barely audible over the sound of music and chatter filtering up from downstairs.

“Why d’you say that? It’s just Y/N.” Lando’s voice follows.

You press yourself up against the wall, heart pounding in your chest at the sound of your name. You can’t see anything, and that almost makes it worse— imagining what their faces look like as they talk about you.

“Just that it’s weird sleeping next to her, and I feel like I’m always having to walk on glass around her. I’m trying to make things normal again, but I don’t think I can. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep being friends with her. How can I look her in the face, knowing what happened?”

You can physically feel the dread settle into your stomach. Your heart clenches painfully in your chest and it’s like your blood has turned to ice in your veins. Your face feels warm, but the rest of your body feels cold, and suddenly it’s as though your ribcage has become too small for your lungs.

As quietly as you can, you scurry away from the door, across the distance of the hallway, and then down the stairs. Instead of turning into the living room where everyone else has gathered, their laughter and conversations a jumbled bubble of noise that makes your chest feel even tighter, you leave through the front door just as you feel tears begin to fall.

It’s worrying how frequently this has become an occurrence for you— crying because of Oscar.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel

━━ a/n: ahhhh i'm sorry i cannot let them be happy!! also, wrote this really fast and struggled a bit because i genuinely couldn't decide if it was just too fast paced or not, so i apologize if it seems rushed or if there are any mistakes editing wise that i missed!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris #social media au

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squidpedia · 1 year ago

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HI I’M PEDIA, MASTERPOST AND TAG GUIDE UNDER THE CUT BUT READ MY FAQ, BOY!!!:

Boundaries on reposting, dubbing, and pfp’s?

Dubs and reposts are ok just let me know please so i can check it out (and give credit duh)! Send it to my inbox or dm’s or something, anything, pleaseeee I’d want to see!!!!! PFP’s also don’t need permission, just include credit somewhere like your bio!

I sent you an ask a while ago/tagged you in a post but you never responded

I’M AWFUL AT RESPONDING TO ASKS AND TEND TO MISS A LOT OF NOTIFICATIONS I’M SORRYYYYYY. ITS YOU AND LIKE 150 OTHER PEOPLE I PROMMY IM JUST TERRIBLE. if you tagged me in a post don’t be afraid to rb it and tag me again, sorry for that!

I sent you a dm but didn’t get a responce

I mainly keep my messages open incase of questions/concerns, but otherwise when it comes to just casual chatting in the dm’s I prefer to limit that to my 18+ mutuals. I’ll probably leave you on read otherwise, sorry nothing against you!

I liked x thing you made. Can I make fanart, redraw it in my style, write a fic relating to it, make something inspired by it etc?

YEAH!!!! Flattered and happy I inspired you in that way!! Just 1) credit me and tag if youre posting it on tumblr, I would be so sad if I didn’t see it and would love love love to rb it and 2) if it’s a redraw, try to link back to original post if possible! 3) in regards to fics (wtf. fic writers ur too cool for me) still give credit, let me know, ask any questions and i’d be happy to elaborate on literally anything. If it involves any of my fallen human designs just know they all go by they/them and u should be fine

Socials?

Youtube, Twitter (lurking only at this point), Instagram (not active really.), Bluesky, Switch (SW-2670-2211-5056) (thats not a social but idgaf)

Pronouns?

Anyyyy

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

TAGS:

#Undertale Heart to Heart -> posts talking about my designs and thoughts regarding my fallen kid OCs. Its mostly lilac sorry. individual kids got their own tags like #aimee hth but I'm not linking them sorry you have to find those yourself

#Happily Ever After and Then Some (HEAaTS?) -> copium everyone lives au idgaf please let me have shameless fun and be extra nice because im probably shaking in my boots sharing any and all headcannons relating to this. based on the events of uty

#Phantom integrity au -> Narrator Integrity basically. its not really “canon” to lilac lore but i like drawing lilac as a ghost so🤷‍♂️. Ps if you wanna make your own content based off this concept, please go for it. You don’t even have to use lilac, i call it the phantom integrity au and not narra lilac just in case someone wants to yoink the concept for their own integrity. I think that’d be cool

#Kanako Integrity Duo -> kanako and integrity brain conversations. this is more canon to lilac lore actually

#Pedias art -> yuh

#Other peoples art -> you should check them out please 🥺

OK PEDIA UTDR/UTY COMICS MASTERPOST

(uty comics are highlighted in orange if you’re more interested in the strictly utdr stuff)

Clover’s Memories (ongoing - i prommy)

Hiatus :(

Clover’s Hat (post revive au)

Part 1 /// Part 2 /// Bonus

Kanako Integrity Duo (really short mini doodle comics)

Reconciliation // Introductions // Ceroba // Chujin

Miscellaneous:

Kris Clover Interaction // Kind Soul // Frisk vs. Clover’s POV // Bedtime // Who’s Your Friend? // Pipe Down // Family Visit // Unwell // Letter // Humor // Gamer // They // Kicked Out // It Keeps Happening // What’s In A Name // i dont think chara berdly and clover should be in a room together (i’ll probably make a cleaner version later) // Banter // Time // Block Out

#tags that i use #pedias art #undertale heart to heart #happily ever after and then some #phantom integrity au #kanako integrity duo #asks #old talking tag that im too lazy to get rid of ->#pedia says stuff #i guess we doin new talking tag now ->#moth talk

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months ago

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Christmas Bingo Card 2024: Surprise Gift - Joe Velasco x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @plaidbooks @witches-unruly-heart @storiesofsvu @rosaliedepp

The squad room is quiet when Joe gets in. The brightly coloured lights along the bank of glass panels twinkle in the dimness of the office, an attempt by Curry to inject a little holiday spirit into a place where people come at the worst time of their lives.

When he gets to his desk, he doesn’t expect to find a neatly wrapped gift sitting upon it. The paper is forest green, his favourite colour. The corkscrewed ribbon a glossy gold.

It must be a mistake, he thinks but then he picks up the tag and it’s his name written on it in your pretty italic scrawl. There’s an ache in his chest because he remembers that conversation in the car during a stakeout a couple of days ago.

“I don’t do gifts.” He’d told you as you were sorting the skittles on the dashboard. You always separate out the yellow ones from all the others because you know they’re his favourite.

“Giving them or receiving them?” You ask him half serious and Joe doesn’t respond. He just stares out the window, his gaze firmly fixed on the building in front of him.

“Oh.” You say and his jaw tightens. “Has it always been that way?”

“For the past couple of years.” He concedes and it breaks your fucking heart to imagine him with nothing to open on Christmas Day, thinking that no one cares about him. “It’s not a big deal."

But it is, to you it’s a big fucking deal.

When he removes the paper, he’s surprised to find a watch box amongst wrapping. His mouth turns dry as he opens it. It’s a practical time piece, something that closely resembles an Omega De Ville Prestige but a fraction of the cost. The face is white with a silver rim and gold numbers, the strap made of brown leather. When he removes it from the box, he can feel something etched into the metal on the back. When he turns it over he sees his name engraved on to the silver plate, not his American name, his real one.

Jose.

He can’t express in that moment how much this gift means to him. It’s not just a watch, it’s a symbol of your partnership, the affection you have for one another.

He thinks about the message he got from you this morning.

Come over after your shift, help me with the left overs my mom makes me bring home.

He hadn’t responded, he thought it must come from a place of pity but now when he looks down at the watch he knows that it comes from a place of love.

He withdraws his phone from the pocket of his biker jacket, his thumb typing out a message.

That offer still open?

He sees the three dots and his heart beats a little faster in chest.

Always, you tell him. You’re always welcome.

Love Joe? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #jose velasco #jose velasco x reader #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu #law and order: special victims unit #l&o svu

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rubyvhs · 1 month ago

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as sick as it sounds ch2 | dean winchester

SUMMARY. you meet with dean, finally, but things only get bumpier TAGS. 1.9k words, angst. series masterlist

august

you: hey dean

its maria’s friend

dean: hey. i know who you are, angel.

i didn’t know you were friends with maria.

you: old friend, bobby introduced us when i was in uni. what were you doing at her mother’s funeral? she’s never mentioned you.

dean: i knew her dad before he passed.

you: right okay. thanks for not saying anything.

dean: about what?

you: right, doesn’t matter.

dean: no, c’mon. we haven’t talked in months and i don’t know why you’re ignoring me.

you: you sent like two messages and i responded.

dean: i asked how your days was and your response was ‘okay’.

[1 attachment]

[ image description : screenshot of dean’s phone, the contact name being ‘angel’. the messages read:

july 13th

dean: happy early 14th

angel: thanks

dean: you okay? what are you doing tomorrow?

angel: i’m okay. idk honestly.

july 29th

dean: hey, how was your day?

angel: okay.

underneath the messages in the message bar there’s a half finished message reading: i even thought of calli ]

you: yeah i responded. anyway, it doesn’t matter. i just wanted to ask how you knew maria, thought i’d hear another lie.

dean: look if you’d just let me explain what happened at bobby’s we wouldn’t be here right now.

you: okay then explain

dean: now?

you: explain, dean. i didn’t care two months ago because i was angry i was being lied to for the entire time we talked but if you’re going to tell me the truth now then i want to hear it.

dean: yeah. the truth is me and sam are hunters, and it’s our full time job, i swear. but sometimes people ask for things, that’s why sam said we’re contractors.

you: why’d you lie about who i am?

dean: because it’s none of sam’s business, it’s none of anybody’s. i didn’t want anything to happen to you.

you: what could possibly happen to me? i’m fine, dean, and you’re the biggest overreactor in the world.

dean: you don’t know the half of it.

you: i’m not naive, okay? i know the world is bad and i could die any second but you don’t think your over exaggerating? and honestly being weird? what have you done in the past that you’re this worried about me getting hurt from someone?

dean: it’s not like that at all.

you: whatever. you’re still as much of a liar as you were two months ago.

and that’s fine because we hardly know each other anyway, we only talked for a month of something, so i guess you don’t owe me anything.

you: like telling me if you’re still friends with jo or going out with her or if you’re dating her now like maria mentioned. because we don’t talk anyway and we’re not friends.

dean: you’re just taking a bunch of information way out of context.

you: sure.

bobby: you idiot.

stop acting like a child.

you: you didn’t tell me dean was coming.

bobby: so what? your dads gonna get angry if you keep this up.

you: i don’t really care what he does as long as he doesn’t speak to me.

bobby: he’s still your dad, kid.

you: yeah well he’s her husband first and he failed at that.

you: i’m going to leave.

bobby: damn it

you’re too annoying

you: please bobby this is so uncomfortable and i wanna take my sister with me, she doesn’t deserve to sit through this.

bobby: fine. take her and go. but have dean with you.

you: sam.

bobby: carl.

you: over my fucking dead body.

i’m taking dean.

bobby: i’ll meet you three later.

You take a quick look around, biting your bottom lip between your teeth to calm yourself down for what’s coming next. you can do this. The table has at least fifteen people, no one will notice if the three of you leave.

You look over at your sister and motion to her that she should go. She immediately gets up and walks away without a word to anyone and no one really cares. When you look over at Dean, his eyes are already on you. Maybe motioning to him with your head that you should both get out of here wasn’t the best move because he looks a little more than excited when you meet him at the door before you move to reveal your sister.

“Can you drive us home?” He nods instantly, albeit a little confused, walking the both of you out of the large villa.

“Isn’t this your house? Weren’t those your parents?” You affirm his answer, which deepens his frown. Just as the three of you get to the impala, he stops in his tracks to face you. “Talk to me.” He’s closer than you anticipated.

You and Dean texted for the longest time but you’ve only met him once, back at Maria’s house and one more time now. The first time you two met you weren’t exactly on the best of terms— not that you’re any better now but at least you can tolerate him. You’ve gotten over the lie like you always do, you just needed time.

He’s still a liar and you still want nothing to do with him but Bobby’s right, you don’t have a car and if your parents catch you walking home with your sister your dad’s not gonna be very happy.

“We just don’t get along, we have our own apartment.” He looks like he has more to say, a whole hell of a lot more to ask, but he refrains with a quick look at your twenty two year old sister. “Please, Dean.”

He places a hand on your arm, “you don’t have to say that to me.” He opens the car and your sister immediately jumps into the backseat. Dean’s hand is still on your arm, you’re still smiling gratefully up at him— and he has to remind himself your sister is still there. He opens the car door and you get in.

The drive to your apartment is filled with whatever mixtape your sister chooses and you giving directions to Dean occasionally. You told him the street but he’s new to the state. Which makes you wonder, “Why did you come tonight?”

When you look back she’s too busy with her phone to listen to the two of you. And the music is already drowning out most of your words, so much so that you have to move closer to dean, thighs almost touching just so he can hear to you.

“What’s that mean?”

“How’d you know my parents, why did they invite you?”

“I worked a case— I was friends with your dad a while ago. Hunted something for him.” You have a million things to say but instead nod. “Why don’t you get along with them?”

Your sister responds almost immediately, “Because our dad is an ass.” A scold from you and she huffs, leaning back into her chair. “What? He is.”

“He just… we’re a bit angry at him at the moment.”

“The moment being three years.”

“You’re been at odds with your parents for three years?” He says like it’s the weirdest thing in the world and you shake your head. “You father?”

“Yeah. We love our mum— I mean, we love dad too—”

“Debatable!”

“Shut up! We love him, we just can’t tolerate him. He’s… yeah just not the best husband. And honestly, most times not the best father either. I tried for years but it’s taken so much out of me to try and get through to him that I just kind of became a better person half way through and decided to leave.”

“Yeah, sure. ‘Better person’,” she quotes with a scoff. “You constantly asked mum to divorce him.”

Now that’s something Dean has never heard. He spares a glance over to you before looking back at the road. He bites his lip as a way to stop the array of questions he has lining up. “I didn’t— look, I was just telling her that if she decided to, we’d be there for her. And that she’d find a thousand times better.”

You look back at him but his eyes are on the road. You wish you knew him well enough to get what he’s thinking. To, at least, know whether or not he hates you because you dragged him away from a meal with a successful business owner.

Dean’s job is more than a little hazy, but you’re not sure what he’s doing with your dad regardless. Your dad owns a petrol company, as do most fathers in the Middle East.

“Anyway.” You clear your throat. God, since when do you overshare this much to a stranger? He doesn’t feel like one. “Thanks for taking us home, I’m sorry you missed the dinner.”

“Eh, it’s alright. Thank you for not punching me in the face when you saw me.” You both let out a low laugh and dean parks in front of the apartment you described. You look back and see your sister already opening the door and leaving. You seem to be stuck to your seat. “Hey, are we gonna… just stop talking? Look, I’m sorry—”

“Eh, it’s alright.” You repeat his words and he smiles. “Honestly, Dean, I’m over it. You lied to your brother and have a girlfriend, those aren’t reasons to despise you.” Dean gives you a look that steals your breath, not in a good way. That line between his eyes comes back, his lips slightly parting just so he can smack them against each other closed.

“When you say it that way it doesn’t sound bad but you had every right to be angry, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” You smirk, trying to steer the conversation.

“Don’t change the narrative just to invalidate yourself.”

“Seems like you are the wise one out of the two of us after all, Dean.” He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying your jokes, but he doesn’t push the topic either. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“If you want to.” He doesn’t drive away until you’re safe inside your apartment and turn the lights on.

September

dean: we ever gonna see each other again?

you: you make it seem like you haven’t texted me every single day.

dean: it’s not enough, we should grab drinks.

you: funny, winchester.

dean: why?

you: why what?

dean: why is that funny?

you: dean, seriously? you have a girlfriend??

dean: i don’t. jo and i never dated. she’s amazing but we only tried to hang out back in july.

you: yeah and you knew exactly who i was talking about.

dean: what’s that supposed to mean?

you: no. it means no, we can not grab drinks.

dean: really? cause i am, in fact outside your apartment this time.

you: you asshole

i can’t believe i ever made you think i like you, it probably inflated your ego times a thousand

dean: you like me? i’m shocked. never would’ve guessed

you: shut it.

i said used to like you

dean: really?

you: i don’t know, are you gonna go around dating girls then talking to me randomly?

dean: angel, that’s not what happened

for the record

i’m still outside your apartment

you: i’m not coming out

but you could definitely be invited in with a little persuasion.

& . . . song analysis !! i’ll be adding this part for every chapter now. so basically i interpret the song as loving someone who’s sometimes the best and sometimes the worse and you just constantly get mixed signals. he takes you home, he lies to you. he texts you everyday, he tells his brother you’re a whatever. & u loving him regardless and feeling sorry for yourself about it .

join my taglist. @daylighted @starrylanex @losers-clvb @ghost-0rch1d @ladysparkles78 @iliyad @darling-eos @ltotheucyy @bubbleraccoon00 @blossomingorchids @saltcxrcle @justwhisperingfantasies

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