#people who never had a chance to be People before

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

The cut that always bleed✧.* - what was i made for?

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors that this story may have.

Y/n L/n was a far cry from Y/n Wayne. Despite both last names, each carrying the weight of a turbulent history, "L/n" felt surprisingly lighter. Both names reminded you of the haunting shadows cast by your mother and father, yet they bore different emotional tolls. As you stood before the mirror, a somber reflection gazing back, you pondered on the 13 years—a whole decade and three more—that seemed squandered on people who couldn't hold your gaze for more than fleeting moments.

Of course, the toll it took on your emotional health was immense, but there was nothing you could do about it. You knew that no matter what you did, you could never capture their attention, not even for a moment. By the age of six, you took up martial arts, hoping your family would be proud of you for sharing their passion. But all you received was a pat on the shoulder from Dick when you won a gold medal.

At ten, you delved into video games, hoping to bond with Tim. You spent four days learning all the rules and knowledge about the game, and two whole weeks mastering it. But when you finally mustered the courage to ask Tim to play with you, he stared at you with bored eyes, barely registering your presence. After twelve minutes of rambling about the game, he sighed, pinched his eyes, and said, "I can't. I'm busy, okay?" before leaving your small room. The video game stayed in a box, forgotten and dirty, for thirteen years, a testament to the same treatment you received over and over.

You took every opportunity, every chance to learn something they were talented in, hoping to catch a glimpse of love in their eyes. But all you got were bored, empty stares. Every hobby you had was dedicated to them, except for one: ballet. The art of dancing, with its sharp and strict moves, dancing on your tiptoes, chin up, and a graceful smile on your face. Nothing could take this away from you, not even Cassandra, who was the apple of her family's eyes as she danced on stage. You loved dancing; it filled your heart with joy and bliss. You believed this was the one thing they could never take from you. That's what you thought.

Ballet demanded strict poise and discipline, watching every bite you took and every drink you swallowed. Your mother was a beautiful woman, enchanting enough to enthrall your father. Her eyes could charm thousands of men and bend their morals to her desire. She was like a siren, captivating men with her ethereal beauty. Your father was no different, dazzling people with his money, perfect white teeth, and undeniable allure. He made heads turn and people giggle at his mere presence. So why did you feel as if you were nothing like them? Created by a goddess and a god, yet you turned out to be so unsightly that your mother sneered and threw you out of her arms, forcing you into the embrace of an unknown man.

You panted lightly, staring at your features in the mirror. Why? Why? Why? Why are you like this? Why can't you feel beautiful? Why can't you be beautiful? Why can't you be a sight for sore eyes like the men and women around you? Their features blended so well with their faces, but you? You felt like a pig with makeup on. You saw beauty in everyone but never in yourself.

Your performance is in about a few more days and you haven't eaten anything healthy for the past 3 days, you're starved, you're pressured, and your family hasn't even answered your text in which you, inviting them to please come watch your performance. Dragging your body to walk home, Alfred unfortunately can't drive you home as he is too busy with work (helping your family with their nightly activities) you hiss as the cold wind blew against your fresh scars-the result of you scratching your face with your nails due to resentment for yourself because of the question in the back of your mind: “why can't you just be good enough?”

The harsh glare of your ballet dance teacher only added more pressure, intensifying the burden on your weak shoulders. You carried the lingering thought that your family didn't care about you and the nagging feeling that you would never be good enough for them. The performance was just a few days away, and you hadn't eaten anything healthy for the past three days. You were starved, pressured, and desperately longing for your family's support. Yet, your texts inviting them to watch your performance went unanswered.

Dragging your exhausted body home, you felt a deep sense of despair. Alfred, who usually drove you home, was too busy with work, assisting your family with their nightly activities. As you walked, the cold wind bit into your fresh scars, the result of scratching your face with your nails out of self-loathing. The question haunted you: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

Your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, each step a reminder of your solitude. The streetlights cast long shadows, mirroring the darkness that seemed to envelop your soul. You could hear the distant laughter of families and friends enjoying their evenings, a stark contrast to the silence that filled your life.

But even though you're killing me

Arriving home, you unlocked the door with trembling hands. The house was quiet, as it always was when you were alone. The once warm and inviting living room now felt cold and unwelcoming. You dropped your bag and collapsed onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a release of the pent-up frustration and sadness. Gasping for breath as you dragged your shivering legs to your cold, small bed room as you dropped your exhausted form to your squeaking bed, staining your pillows with your tears.

I need you like the air I breathe

In your heart, you still held onto a sliver of hope that your family would show up to your performance. You envisioned them in the audience, watching with pride as you executed every move with precision and grace. But reality was harsh, and you knew deep down that their absence would cut deeper than any physical wound. But you needed them. They were the salt to your wounds yet you still crave for their attention. It's not too late right?

Please.

You spent the next few days in a haze, practicing relentlessly for the upcoming performance. Every pirouette, every leap, and every graceful move was tainted by the thought of your family's indifference. You pushed your body to the limit, hoping that the pain would numb the emotional agony. Again, again, again– again y/n! You need to perfect this! This could be the chance for you to prove to them that you're worthy of their attention! That you belong in this family just as much as they do! You can't give up. Stop trembling. Stop acting so weak. If you don't stop acting like a child then maybe they'll eventually throw you out of the house too.

Please

The day of the performance arrived, and you stood backstage, nervously adjusting your costume. Your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked through the curtains, scanning the audience for familiar faces. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that your family was not coming. Your lips trembling, your brain can't fathom the idea of them not coming to this performance—of course you'd expect y/n to be unsurprised by this behavior but it's not fair! You worked so hard for this only for them to answer you with nothing but silence.

I need you more than me

You destroyed yourself for this; for them! You worked every bone in your body and stretched every limb of yours, starved yourself for days, just for them to dismiss your one request to just be there. You just wanted that family where they were all so supportive of you, they all loved and adored you. The worst part is they are just not to you. And you had to learn that the hard way.

I need you more than anything

Summoning every ounce of strength, you stepped onto the stage. The spotlight shone brightly, and for a moment, you felt a surge of confidence. The music began, and you moved with the grace and elegance you had practiced so hard to perfect. Each step was a testament to your dedication, a silent plea for recognition and love. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as a feeling of pain and happiness surged through your chest.

As you danced, the audience watched in awe. To them, you were a vision of beauty and talent. But inside, you felt empty. Every jump, every turn, and every sway of your limb was dedicated to them. With trembling lips you swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the pain in your chest as you play your part of the performance. The applause at the end of your performance was hollow, a reminder that the ones you longed to impress were not there to see it. Backstage, you received praise from your fellow dancers and instructors, but it did little to lift your spirits. You longed for a simple word of encouragement, a sign that your family cared. Instead, you were met with silence. You smiled faintly at them thanking them and exchanging a few compliments here and there. At this moment you couldn't feel anything. You were numb from all the pain you have suffered from this family.

Please, please

That night, as you lay in bed, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of inadequacy. The question echoed once more: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

"Those days are over," you say to yourself as you pack your bags and place your belongings into boxes. You've grown, and after 13 years in the manor begging for scraps of their attention, you've realized that what you want will never become reality. It took you a whole decade and three more years to come to this realization. You shake your head softly and smile sadly. What were you thinking? Of course, they wouldn't care about you. Your normalcy and mediocrity never appealed to them, and you’ve decided those days are finally over. It was time to move out and discover what you were truly meant for.

"What was I made for?"

you ask yourself. This question feels so much better than constantly wondering, "Will they finally look at me?" You take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of your new home. You breathe in and out, closing your eyes for a moment. This was it. You had made it. Slowly, you open your eyes and look at the people surrounding you, those who truly cared for you and saw you through your scars of insecurity, your perfect little hobbies, and your flawed personality. To them, you weren't Y/n Wayne, child of a billionaire, nor Y/n L/n, child of a prostitute. You were just Y/n, who tried so hard, failed, but ultimately succeeded.

The manor has been noticeably quiet for the past few days. The silence weighting discomfort as if something was wrong–as if something was missing. It was surprisingly first noticed by none other than Richard Grayson himself. The first Robin of Batman, the irreplaceable side kick, the first son of Bruce Wayne, and the darling of the crowd whom everyone loves and adore. As he walked through the large halls of the home he grew up in, he felt something was out of place. Like something wasn't in place or rather something was missing. It took him some time to figure it out as the clock ticks

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Aha! He's got it! It was because there wasn't any classic orchestral music playing through the thick walls of the manor. The soft music of pyotr tchaikovsky wasn't heard anywhere around the corners of the walls. That's strange. The sweet melody of violins and cellos wasn't found in any room at all. He didn't know why but it bugged him. He sighs as he disregards it, nevermind he said, must be Alfred playing his favorite old songs. He walks around the manor to look for his siblings and father and somehow stumbled upon this.. Unknown and empty small room. “wow this is.. Something” he muttered under his breath. He inspected the room and saw multiple trophies decorating the room. It was impressive how someone can achieve this many gold medals and such. His gaze traveled across the room and saw a box full of webs and dust, and got interested as he opened it to see an old video game and thought that it must have been Tim's before he decided to throw it away out of boredom. With no more much to do he slid through the doors and whistled his way out of the room, unaware of how many memories a person created in that very same room withering away.

Tim and Damian recognized the absence of humming and the pattern of footsteps that used to echo around the house from an unknown room. The silence made them uncomfortable. They had grown so accustomed to the faint noise that it had somehow brought them comfort. The melodic lullaby of humming painted a serene picture of paradise, lulling them easily to sleep—a struggle they had faced all their lives as vigilantes, or in Damian's case, as an assassin. Their heartbeats aligned with the rhythm of the faint noise.

For Tim, it was a sweet form of salvation from the demons that haunted his nights and kept him from a good night's sleep. For Damian, it was the comfort he never knew, a stark contrast to the heavy stare of his grandfather and the weight of expectations placed on his shoulders by his mother's watchful gaze.

Jason couldn't care less about what happens around that manor. He hated that place. It made him rethink all the moments he wished he could take back. Jason Todd is a hateful man but a good soldier. He destroys in order to protect. He kills in order to let another live. A morally gray person. In his eyes he was what Bruce wayne–Batman couldn't be. But even a man who goes out at night to protect needs a break. So when he came to the manor and went straight to the library and saw that the usual piled up classic books weren't to be seen at their usual spot he found it.. Unsettling per say. The books written by Jane Austen that were filled with marked pages, sticky notes, and annotations not found in the main table of the room were strange to him. He didn't even know who did it but it made him feel like he was home. The silly doodles and random words written on the sticky notes, careful not to dirty the book, made him chuckle every time he saw it; so where was it now?

Cassandra was into ballet. She grew up silenced, observing others, forever cautious. as to why she expresses herself through dancing: ballet. A moment where she can breathe and let go. Where she can freely pour her heart into dancing. Every point, every movement, she releases her unsaid emotions. She was raised that way. Except then she was thought to swallow her words and release her pent up emotions into bad things instead of gracefully dancing. She was completely in love with dancing. Whenever she went to collect her ballet shoes there's always an extra bandage, extra shoes played on the floor. She never knew why and she never questioned it. Just ignored it. But now she somehow froze at her spot to see nothing but her shoes and not next to the light pink ones that had a small bow to compliment its design. Ever so stunning; the person who wears it must have been the same kind of persona-wait.. Person? There's another one.. Oh.

Bruce Wayne was a busy man. By day, he handled his company, Wayne Enterprises. His days were filled with paperwork, meetings, and managing marketing strategies. But by night, he never slept. No, he donned the mantle of Batman, the prince of Gotham City, the guardian of Lady Gotham. He didn't have time for anything he deemed unworthy of his attention. He noticed every tiny mistake, be it at work or on the streets of Gotham. At work, he spotted grammatical errors and unstraightened lines of decorative mugs. As Batman, he detected the slightest hint of lies in a criminal's eyes. So, yes, he noticed that something—or rather, someone—from the manor was missing.

As dick whistled his way out of the room unable to find his family members, he decided to go to the batcave and have a little fun while being alone. He did all things he could think of. Look for more cases to solve, dig some stuff out criminal records, blah blah blah.. Then he decided to check the manor's CCTV.

As dick was checking the cctv's of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage-about 2 weeks ago of a person..? Packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible.. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates, it's impossible. Unless..

Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled and his eyes dilated..

It can't be.

You.. Y-..y/n? What were you doing? Where are you going? He bit his lips harshly as he watched the footage like a hawk. His hands came to fidget with his hair. Was that really you? You look so grown.. Several thoughts ran through his mind as he pondered on what you were doing. After a matter of time he somehow remembers. Oh yeah! Your contact number. His hands trembling, in a hurry he pressed your name in his phone and.. Shoot. His eyes widened at the several missed calls and texts from you. Not even a single response from him. Come to think of it, when was the last time he talked to you? Like, really talked to you? He quickly text you “heyy baby birdddd I miss you! Let's hang out right now!” while biting his thumb as he bounced his thighs up and down from anticipation. And then suddenly.. He remembers! The room! It was yours! Before he even knew it, he was quick on his feet and ran like a mad man towards your room. He panted slightly at the face of your door and harshly opened your room unaware of his strength. He went through every corner of your room. He explored every side of your room to find something-anything that can give him even a spoil of information about you. And that was when he found a tiny pink notebook. He chuckled softly, out of breath, hair messed up like a mad man but dick didn't care, no because he finally found your one and only diary! Filled with bows and pink glitters.. Hah..you were so cute. He went through your diary, invading your privacy and saw all of the things you've said. The way you praised him, the way you adored your family, your little adventures, your previous ballet performances (you did ballet? Wow, you're just so talented.. Oh his little bird.) he suddenly heard a high pitched ping! And scrambled to his phone as he expected a response from you but instead all he was met with was “y/n has blocked you”.

What..? Why? Didn't you want to spend time with your precious big brother? His blood shot eyes twitched and sweat ran down from his face. The suddenly a deep voice said:

“dick? What's going on here?”

Note: as promised! Here is the chapter yall asked forrr tell me what you guys think!

[rostekhorn]

I don't know where it stands when compared to Campbell's Hero's Journey idea specifically, but I've always loved Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (and the preceding episode of TOS, Space Seed) for going against a hell of a lot of established conventions when it comes to heroism and lone men saving the world.

Khan's entire backstory is that of a guy who thinks the hero's journey is real, and he's the hero, except life stubbornly refuses to conform to his narrative. He's literally the product of an attempt to make superheroes real, and he's internalized the idea that because he's stronger and smarter than everybody else, it's his destiny to rule over them for their own good. ... And real life keeps getting in the way. First, the stupid little muggles back in the 1990s refused to obey him and overthrew his empire. Then, he was unfrozen in the 23rd century, thought he had a second chance, only the stupid little muggles took that away from him again. Then, his attempt to build a new world from scratch on Ceti Alpha V also failed because of a freak natural phenomenon that none of his superior strength and intellect could handle. And then of course, the movie. His hero's journey keeps getting thwarted by, well, the fact that the world isn't actually a superhero movie, and he isn't actually its main character, and the more it happens, the angrier he gets.

But that's just Khan. Then there's Kirk. Who has more than a little of the same ego and hero complex that Khan does, and in this movie, it's all for the worst. His arrogance and belief that he's above the rules gets a whole bunch of his crew killed, ultimately including his best friend, who has to sacrifice himself to finish cleaning up his mess. The entire situation could have been avoided if Kirk had simply followed routine Starfleet procedure (kept the shields raised when encountering Reliant). The only thing that allows him to escape and stage a comeback is more routine Starfleet procedures (Reliant's command codes, and the "for God's sake use codes when you're on an open channel" rule). And when he finally comes back for round 2, the reason he wins is simply that deep space combat is something he's been doing all his life and Khan has never done before. The whole movie celebrates bureaucracy, training, and experience, over innate special individual ability.

If you go back to Space Seed, there's also the whole story about the ship's historian who falls in love with Khan but then betrays him once she realizes what he's about. I don't love all the gender politics that are wrapped up in that storyline, but I recognize the point they were trying to make. She's someone who's completely bought the romanticized vision of past figures like Khan, and has to learn, through exposure to the real thing, that people like that in real life aren't Campbellian heroes, they're brutal thugs. (It also softens the gender politics a little bit that Kirk, McCoy, and the rest of the humans have also swallowed a lot of the romantic kool-aid - not as much as her, but enough to seriously disturb Spock, the only one in this episode who sees clearly right from the start - which kind of foreshadows Kirk's flaws when they next encounter Khan in the movie).

In any case, color me unsurprised that when we got that thoughtful pushback against a bunch of our traditional heroic tropes, it came from Star Trek.

alright, I’m annoyed with the class that I’m taking. it’s about writing novels, and I thought it would have cool stuff about balancing your narrative and developing themes etc, but instead she spent the first class talking about how every book fits into the Hero’s Journey (the monomyth template). and I was somewhat of a contrarian, and said “can you give us examples of books that don’t fit into this template?” and she said “no. because all books fit.”

but I dunno man, I just finished reading this Korean book where the plot is just the character having a string of hookups and reflecting on them without changing in any way. I don’t know if it’s possible to contort that into the Hero’s Journey.

[colossrat]

How Captain Marvel Discovers Batman's Secret Identity

Batman give so much of him for his acts, in bruce wayne or in batman, he is a fabulous actor. his posture, voice, microexpressions idk, everything humanly possible and impossible, he did to keep people as far away as possible from connecting his masks.

but there wasn't a 100% guarantee that no one would notice… well, he was very careful with the most obvious and even the least obvious things, but he wasn't such an idiot to think that no one would ever, under any circumstances, would find out about him. This has happened before, my god, Tim found out in the most unlikely way he could think of at the time. still, he was in shock. He was in the meeting room with some other heroes waiting for the time to start, and there he was facing Captain Marvel…

"What did you just say?" batman asks, he wanted to hang himself right there when he realized that there was a tremor in the back of his voice.

The captain's eyes widen, almost panicked.

"oh... i didnt mean nothing by that! its just... I don't want to offend you! I just couldn't help but notice that you have lip fillers… like, relax! It's super discreet. I only noticed it probably because I can see the needles' holes, even though it's half healed. and-- Is that why you didn't come to the last meeting? It's recent, right? I know you weren't like this the last time I saw you. but like, zero judgement! I know how society judges men in these scenarios, I think it's super cool that your masculinity is strong and resistant to criticism- Not that you will receive criticism! again, it's SUPER discreet, I only noticed because I notice things like this occasionally… I think."

he was falling over himself with his words, clearly nervous because he commented on what he noticed without meaning to, perhaps out loud… batman swears it felt like he wasn't even talking to him, whispering to himself "lip fillers?" Batman doesn't know that this was little Billy, confused by the information that Solomon dropped into his mind.

Batman didn't try to stop the babble of words that came from the other hero's mouth, still in shock from the fact that he had noticed that he had had a cosmetic procedure. Well, it's not like he could appear like Bruce Wayne out there with his face all crumpled up from taking so much beating, he needed the procedures to continue with a playboy face… he just never expected anyone to recognize such a minimal change. since he only carried out the procedures in a super subtle way... but marvel noticed and not just that.

The captain's eyes squinted, now falling on the bat's chin and jaw.

"Is that botox…?"

They look at each other in pure silence. Marvel adjusted his posture, uncomfortable with the eye contact.

"I'm going to keep my mouth shut, sir, Batman sir, don't worry. No one will notice anything. It's really cool, by the way, you're like a jewel, a very polished and.. jovial one" and he then walked away to sit on the chair more as far away as possible.

Well, it wasn't the end of the world yet… Batman tried to ignore it. He tried not to die of paranoia over the fact that someone had noticed such a small detail. Everything was going to be fine, the chances of the captain also knowing that Bruce Wayne recently had lip fillers and some botox were minimal… but not zero.

He really tried not to be so paranoid… but it was difficult, and he ended up distracted during a gala and got kidnapped, because of course he was. and of course that for some reason it was doctor sivana working with lex luthor, of course then captain marvel got involved in the rescue. OF COURSE.

He tried to avoid eye contact immensely, giving all his attention to Superman, who was also there. Clark was confused, he thought maybe it was because he hadn't revealed his identity to Marvel yet. But he really needed to go if he wanted to get information for his article later, so he left Bruce Wayne in Captain Marvel's hands with an apologetic expression.

Bruce tried to be positive, and it screamed a lot of things. He tried to think that there he was a playboy and it was super common for him to also have some cosmetic procedures on his face, maybe Marvel wouldn't assimilate him and Batman like that out of nowhere… but then he soon remembered that Marvel could see the needle holes, the microscopic, healed holes from the needles… it didn't take two seconds of looking into each other's faces for the captain to turn white paper pale.

His mouth opened like a dead fish's, and Batman knew he saw it. fuck.

they stared at each other for a few minutes. silent and harrowing minutes. They were literally frozen in that moment for so long that Superman came back with the information he wanted, with a super worried expression because he didn't understand what happened there.

The captain, noticing the new presence, realized that he had been in shock for too long already.

"ahm… so, bruce-- sir, bruce wayne… sir… sir wayne. mister…? ah-- um… I'm going home… in silence… and I I'll keep silent… ok? again, it's super discreet and you don't have to worry, ok? Maybe a little, but relax. Superman, sir. bye..."

and he flies away in a beam of shame, perhaps. Superman looks at Bruce with palpable confusion.

bruce then takes a deep breath and looks at clark

"can you tell I have lip fillers…?"

and clark goes pale.

"no…" "just a little bit…?"

Bruce snorts in displeasure. the kids will never let him forget it if they ever find out. They can't find out...

But they probably will because Damian has a strange friendship with Captain Marvel's Tiger, of course.

[wcnderlnds]

long time no see | thanos (choi su-bong)

・❥・ summary: you and thanos used to date but break up before you get the chance to tell him you're pregnant until you both land in the games. ・❥・word count: 2k ・❥・warnings: pregnancy, swearing, drug mentions, female reader ・❥・ authors note: working through the requests i have in my inbox slowly but surely! this ones for you anon <3

“You can’t expect me to come to your every beck and call. I got shit to do, babe. Got that show to prepare for and you know that’s the most important thing right now,” Thanos huffed, his arms across his chest as he looked at you with annoyance. His tone was calm but you knew the venom behind it, the condescending way he was speaking to you. “You’re really clingy sometimes, you know that?”

A frown adorned your face as you shook your head at him. The tears threatening to fall from your eyes were definitely noticeable but, no, you wouldn’t let him see you cry. He wasn’t going to get that satisfaction. “I needed you today and you let me down… again.”

“See, this is what I mean about you being needy! What was so important that you needed to drag me away from work?”

“Work? You call hitting up your dealer and getting high, work?”

“So, now you’re judging me? Whatever. This was never going to work anyway,” he scoffed, turning away from you but you could see by the tremble in his hands that he was upset. Thanos had never been one to show his emotions but after two years of dating him, you knew all the tells. Being with someone for so long meant you got to know them in ways other people didn’t.

“That’s it then? We’re done.” Now you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he didn’t even turn to look at you. Well, at least he couldn’t see you cry. He was fumbling for the cross on his neck, pulling out one of his infamous pills that he’d become dependent on. That was all you needed to know. Without another word, you left the club and ran down the stairs in a tear filled haze. Almost on a protective instinct, your hand rested against your stomach. He could never know your secret. He could never know that he was the father of your child.

Desperate people did desperate things so when a salesman offered you a card with some weird symbols on it and promises of cash beyond your wildest dreams, you took it. Little did you know it would lead you to the deadliest games of your life. Your hand lay across your stomach as you stood in line to vote — your belly now round showing the whole world that you were pregnant. You were now six months along. This was a last ditch attempt at getting some money and starting a new life for yourself and your child. Upon entering the games, you had tried to hide it but when that had caused you nothing but pain, you stopped. Why should you hide it anyway? Maybe it would give you some kind of advantage. There was no way anyone was going to let a pregnant woman get killed. There had only been one game so far but if that was any indication, the rest of them were going to be just as deadly. Your eyes glanced down to your stomach but suddenly shot up when you heard a voice you hadn’t heard in months.

“Let’s gooooo!” Thanos’ voice bellowed out as he made a circle above his head.

“No fuckin’ way,” you mumbled under your breath. You watched as your ex boyfriend — and the father of your child — walked to stand with the rest of the people who had voted to stay. He obviously hadn’t seen you yet because if he had then he would’ve had a lot to say.

When it came to your turn to vote there was no hesitation as your palm pressed down on the big red X button. As much as you wanted that money, the risk of losing your life and baby wasn’t worth it. There would be another way. Unfortunately, the majority had voted to stay. Feeling defeated, you crawled into your bunk. Maybe if you asked nicely they’d just let you leave. There had to be someone that was running this thing that had a heart. This had been a mistake, even more so now that you knew Thanos was here. When the breakup had happened, he had tried to reach out but you had ignored every call and text. The way he treated you, the way he didn’t care about anything but his next fix? No, you didn’t need that. It hurt, it hurt more than you could ever be able to explain because unfortunately you loved him. Sometimes the people you loved hurt you the most, though. Seeing him so soon after the break-up would have undone all the hard work you’d put in to move on from him. It was selfish of you but you had never wanted him to find out you were pregnant. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be a father — you couldn’t put yourself and your baby through that.

_____

One of the many downfalls of being in the late stages of your second trimester meant that you needed to use the bathroom more than normal. With a huff, you pushed yourself off your bed, getting to your feet. Making your way to the bathroom, you ended up walking into someone. Of course you did. Nothing could go smoothly.

“Whoa, Senorita, be careful,” Thanos grabbed your shoulders, holding you in place so you didn’t fall. It took him a moment to really look at you before he realised who you were. His eyes widened, his hands instantly releasing you like he’d been burnt. “…what’re you doing here?”

“Same reason you're here,” you subconsciously pulled down your jacket, trying to cover the bump but it was no use. You were too far along and by the way his eyebrows almost cartoonishly raised, he had already noticed.

“I…you’re…?” His fingers played with his chain — his ultimate nervous habit. You knew what would come next: he’d take a pill, suddenly be in a good mood and wouldn’t care about you.

“Yeah.” That was all you said as you tried to walk past him. A conversation with him was the last thing you wanted to deal with. His fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

“Is it mine?” His voice was almost soft. Scared, even. You nodded your head, knowing exactly what was coming next. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I tried to, Su-bong. That day you broke up with me. I said I needed you because I had a doctors appointment but you were just… you and didn’t care. So, don’t pretend to now.”

You shook from his grasp, finally heading to the bathroom. There was a split second where you thought he might follow you but as you turned your head, you saw him standing in place, dumbfounded. To be fair, you couldn’t blame him. You had just told him he was the father of your child, that would shock anyone. You stupidly still cared about him no matter how much you wanted to shake him from your heart.

Later that evening before lights out, you had been sitting with Gi-hun and his friends. When they’d seen you eating by yourself, they’d invited you over stating that nobody should be left alone in here. At first you’d been rather reluctant but having some allies in this place wouldn’t be such a bad idea. They were friendly enough but you weren’t really paying much attention. Your thoughts kept drifting to the encounter with Thanos. The way his eyes had instantly softened the second he’d realised you were pregnant — it was seared into your mind. He liked to put on this big bravado act but you knew better than anyone that he was just scared. If he showed his true self then the world would eat him up so he acted like a cocky, insufferable rapper so much so that he had actually turned into that person. It was a defense mechanism to survive but unfortunately it had taken over him. But, he had given you a glimmer of the man you knew was hiding inside.

Excusing yourself from the group, you got up to head towards your bed. Gi-hun had warned you to be careful during the night — it could apparently get brutal. Getting some shut eye before the official lights out was probably a good idea so that you could stay awake during the night to protect yourself. As you were walking, someone barged past you knocking you to the ground without stopping to help you up.

“Hey!” You shouted, pushing yourself up from the floor. “Watch where you’re going.”

The guy turned around, snarling at you. “Shut the fuck up.”

Before you could even respond there was a flash of purple and the person was on the ground, your ex boyfriend sat on top of him punching him in the face. You called his name but he wasn’t listening. At that point he was seeing red. Tentatively, you placed a hand on Thanos’ shoulder. He turned his head, his eyes meeting yours as his fist pulled back to throw another punch. You simply shook your head. It was like you had some kind of spell on him because he stopped, getting to his feet and storming away.

What the hell had that been all about?

_____

“Are you awake?” The soft whispers of Thanos’ deep voice sounded in your ears.

“No,” you grumbled but still turned to face him. He was crouching down by your bed, his face mere inches from yours. “What do you want?”

“To say sorry. For earlier and…” he trailed off.

“You were kinda crazy.”

“Yeah, well, when someone’s rude to the woman that’s carrying my baby then it’s on sight.”

“I appreciate it… but you have to be careful or you’re going to get yourself killed,” you whispered, trying not to wake anyone else up around you.

His lips quirked up into one of his signature grins. “Careful there, Senorita. Might start thinking you actually care about me.”

It was almost on reflex that you rolled your eyes but as your eyes landed back on him you noticed something. His chain was gone. The cross that he always carried around his neck with his precious drugs in them was gone. That was weird. He never let it out of his sight. Had someone stolen it? No. Nobody would even be able to get close enough to

“Your chain…?”

“Gave it to Nam-gyu. Don’t need it anymore.” You could hear the waver in his voice. He did need it but for some reason he had just given it away. Never in a million years did you think that’d happen. Going completely cold turkey like that? What would possess him to do such a thing?

“Why?” It was hard to stop the hesitation sounding in your voice, almost scared of his reply.

His fingers came up to move away the hair that had fallen in your eyes. “For you. I…you’re carrying my baby. I… want to be good. Be better for you. For the baby. I’m so fuckin’ sorry that I haven’t been the person you needed but I want to try, baby. I really want to fuckin’ try. It ain’t going to be easy and I’m going to mess up but please, please let me try. I’ll vote to leave. I’ll get us out of this shit show and we’ll figure it out. You have no reason to trust me but… I’m asking you to let me prove to you that I can be what you need.”

His fingers were shaky, his voice a mere whisper. This was already hard for him but the sincerity in his voice was evident to anyone who could hear him. Thanos wasn’t the most perfect person on the planet but was anyone? Everyone made mistakes and the fact he was here willing to try was something, right? Baby steps. It was better than nothing.

“Vote to leave and we’ll take it from there, okay?” You leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “And thank you. For trying. For giving up the thing you’ve been depending on to survive. It… means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

This could be the biggest mistake you’d ever make but what was life without a little risk? Your baby deserved a father and if he was willing to try then this could be the start of something new.

taglist:@ldydeath @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @djarindroid @justsisse @sassyyoyo @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303

[kirbmey]

　 ྀི︶˚̣̣̣⠀⠀⠀arguing w bigbrother!caleb⠀⠀⠀˚̣̣̣︶ ྀི

synopsis: as much as you love your older brother you end up second guessing him, tired of only being allowed to talk to him and wishing you had some friends like other girls did ૮𐔌っ˕ -｡꒱ྀི𑁬

tw: angst, caleb slaps reader, they argue (obviously), tons of manipulation, rape mentions, drug mentions, caleb’s a fake to people, pathetic reader, overall this is really toxic, etc.

caleb was waiting for you parked in front of your uni, toying around with the necklace you gifted him when you were kids while his mind drifted away.

he was so excited for today, friday’s being his favorite days of the week since he took you out to eat and then had a walk by the meadowy park near your house. it was simple but he enjoyed every second he shared with you.

he didn’t need much more than that, really. he just needed you.

all the girls at your uni were hands down for your handsome older brother, trying to approach him every chance they’d get and getting politely rejected, even though he felt disgusted by them and thought they were vulgar whores; he was pretty good at hiding it.

you, on the other hand, started to feel lonelier each passing day.

ever since you were a kid you shared all of your time with caleb up until now. you told him everything, lived every moment together. there was no memory in which he didn’t appear.

and you really really liked that, you wouldn’t want that to change. but there’s been the longing for a friend, someone who wasn’t caleb, someone new.

you’ve always tried to get to know some of your classmates, feeling a little bit guilty when you disobeyed your big brother’s orders. it wasn’t hard for you to socialize, you were actually very good at it!

a nice sweet girl with a pretty voice and soft smile? who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?

well, every single time you thought you made a friend they would separate ways with you in a couple days, which made you feel sad and insecure.

why are they living you so fast, were you rude, said something bad, appeared weird perhaps?

far from reality the only one to blame was caleb, who had his eyes glued to you every second of the day and didn’t miss on how you tried you break free from the brainwash he managed to give you throughout the years.

he learnt this would happen every so often, and stopped confronting you about it long ago.

yes, he used to argue with you about this kinda thing, complaining about you getting along with other people and playing the victim, crocodile tears down his face as he begged you to never leave him.

so what he’d do now it’s confront the person in question directly, maybe to threat them, maybe to beat them up, maybe to kill them if they got too annoying.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“hey, pips, how was today?” he asked with a boyish smile plastered on his round lips, frowning when he noticed your crossed arms and pouty face, not even greeting him and looking out the window to avoid his purple eyes.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i’m talking to you.” he mentioned your name in a serious manner, locking the doors before grabbing both your cheeks with one of his big hands to make you face him.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i want to go to the party.” you simply muttered, avoiding his gaze while you tried to pull away from his grip, making him wrap your throat now. “we’ve already talked about that, princess. and it’s still a no.”

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“but mom and dad said i could go!” you complied, crossing your arms again. a tantrum is the last thing he needed from you today.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“mom and dad don’t know what’s best for you. i do.” he spat, letting you go and mimicking your pose now. “you wanna know what goes down at these frat parties, hmm?” caleb challenged you, tracing the shape of the steering wheel while speaking.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“there’s people getting high on anything they can find, fainting, vomiting because of how drunk they are, fucking everywhere.” he knew the party you wanted to attend was nothing like that, your classmates telling about the party to your parents and describing it as ‘chill’ and ‘safe’.

caleb totally believed that, they seemed fucking boring.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“what? no, that’s not true! you’re a big liar!” you yelled at him, feeling how his hand collided against your cheek; you knew you crossed the lane when you raised your voice at him. so you just took it, going silent after that.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“if you wanna get drugged and raped by the whole fucking class the go ahead, i’m done with this conversation.” he spat, engine vibrating beneath your feet as he drove you two back home. what a failure of a friday.

the whole drive you sat down there, tears rolling down your face as you quietly whimpered, cleaning them with the sleeves of your sweater.

you just wanted to make friends and go on a party for once to at least die knowing how it feels to be like the other girls. but that made your gege upset, and you loved him more than anything, more than you loved yourself.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“it hurts me more than it hurts you.” caleb broke the silence after parking in front of your house, resting his head against the headrest and sighing, looking at you now.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“‘m sorry, gege. i’m being selfish.” your voice trembled, reaching out for his hand to hold it up against your lips, kissing it several times, tears wetting his pale skin.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i don’t like hurting you like this, you know that. why you make me do it, doll. why can’t you just listen?” he kept on questioning you, his palm pressing against the cheek he slapped minutes prior, caressing the imprint his fingers left.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i know, i know, i’m truly sorry. please forgive me, please gege. i love you.” you kept on apologizing, rubbing yourself against the attention he gave you, feeling the tears fall again and again.

he wasn’t faced by your crying. sure, he didn’t like to see you cry, but he knew he had to be strict with you in order to make you behave. you really hurt his feelings and you had to know your actions had consequences.

it took him a few days to completely forgive you, days in which you had to wake up without him, in which you had to cook for yourself and come back home by foot all alone.

days in which you remembered your gege was all that mattered in your life and realized that you didn’t need any friends, because no one would know how to treat you or take care of you like your old brother did.

and just like that caleb got away with it again, torturing you to make you behave, obliging you to live without him even if it was just a couple of days to make you see how much you actually needed him.

you finally understood after all; no friends, only caleb. you made yourself believe you were okay with that. ⠀ ⠀ 　　　

a/n: this was a request from an anon! I hope you like it, bunny. I feel like i outdid myself with this one, this is how i see caleb in my mind fr ᥩྀི ´ ᩳ ` ꒱

— masterlist.

[dollesung]

SWEET VENOM .ᐟ

PAIRING. jake x fem reader. GENRE. nsfw. REQUESTED? no. WORD COUNT. 3.9k. SYNOPSIS. your inexperienced virgin of a best friend, jake, tries to ask you for sex advice. WARNINGS. sub!jake, dom!reader, mentions of sex, alcohol & drugs, a little dialogue heavy, inexperienced jake, reader is the same age as jake, handjob, corruption kink, kind of dubcon (but not really). minors do not interact.

NOTE. this is my first sub!enha work. english is not my first language. please bear with me. send requests thru my asks please.

Jake knew he wasn’t really that much of an experienced guy when it came to sex.

Although he was smart, maybe only academically, he really did pride himself on being more on the intelligent spectrum. Top of his class, graduated valedictorian, and was voted most likely to become the president someday, Jake was an absolute unit.

But when it came to sex? He was a clueless virgin.

He was already twenty-two, almost a college graduate, and yet here he was, with absolutely little to no knowledge of how to "do the deed," as one might say.

In his defense, sex was never really a priority.

He spent most of his teenage years studying, being a high school scholar, and all. In the off chance that he wasn't, Jake was usually doing extracurricular activities or helping his folks out at home. He did have a social life, but most of the people he hung out with were co-academics, people who focused more on being a good student, the kind your parents would love for you to hang out with.

MORE UNDER THE CUT.

Enter you, his best friend.

The two of you really personify the phrase "opposites attract" as you and Jake could be no more different from one another. The two of you were friends since childhood, as your families were next-door neighbors for years.

If Jake was academically inclined, let's just say you weren't.

You were a bit of a rebel. From a young age, you'd learned how to sneak out of your house to attend a party you weren't allowed to attend. You spent your entire high school life defying your parents and hanging out with the wrong people. Most of your friends were delinquents just like you, and you spent most days skipping classes and drinking alcohol you bought from convenience stores using a fake ID.

Of course, Jake was the only proper friend you had.

Despite attending two different universities in college, the two of you would always make an effort to catch up whenever you were both home, mostly during summer breaks or the holidays.

Like now, for example.

It was summer break for the two of you, one of your last ones, since both of you were graduating in a couple of months. You invited Jake over, with the promise of some cheap beer you smuggled from your dad’s stash in the kitchen, and a whole semester’s worth of stories to share.

“—so, we were in the sidewalk, and a fuckin’ police car comes around the corner,” you were in the middle of telling Jake the story of how you almost got arrested for the nth time. He’s sitting on your bed with a bottle in hand, quietly listening to you yap.

You’re sat on a chair by the bed, facing Jake. You’ve also got a bottle in your hand, but unlike Jake, this one isn’t your first beer of the night.

You continue your story. “I start running away, and Yujin and the others start running away, but Mark was still pissing at the side of the road so we had to fuckin’ drag the fucker while he was peeing, seriously I couldn’t stop laughing.”

Jake laughs at your story with you, taking sips of his beer as you talked. You remember the day you taught him how to drink. He was a month away from turning 18, and yet you managed to convince him to try alcohol for the first time. You were proud of yourself that day.

The conversation ends and a moment of silence passes. You place your now empty bottle on your desk table, before crossing your legs and facing Jake once more.

“Sooo,” you began, dragging the last syllable. “How about you? What’s new in your life?”

This was the routine for you two. You’d talk about your lives, what you guys did during the times you weren’t together. Most of the time, Jake's stories would be about how he aced his recent exams or how fun their university's events were. Sometimes he'd tell weird ones, like the story of how mold grew in their communal kitchen, or when a professor got food poisoning and nearly shat himself mid-lecture.

Meanwhile, you're almost always telling him stories of your adventures, about the times when you nearly got arrested or even hospitalized. Jake would lecture you often, of course, but he never attempted to genuinely stop you. In a way, you knew he lived vicariously through you.

"Nothing much," Jake shrugs. "Just the usual shit."

You scowl, "You're no fun." You grab a pillow from the bed and playfully attempt to hit him.

"Whaaat?" He laughs, avoiding your blow.

"You never tell me anything!" You complain.

As much as you knew how much of a nerd Jake was, a part of you knew he wasn't that boring. You remember one summer, a few years back when Jake told you the story of how he nearly got into a fight with a senior from his university.

"There's nothing to tell!" Jake defends himself. Then, a pause, before his face contorts. “Okay, maybe there is something…”

“I knew it!” You yelp, climbing from your chair to the mattress. “Tell me.”

Jake, scratches his nape, looking visibly awkward. The boy barely gets embarrassed, at least with you, but right now his face looks the lightest bit of rosy, which intrigues you more.

“Okay, fine,” Jake submits. It takes him another moment to respond. “There’s this girl…”

“Oh my god,” you exaggerate. “Finally!”

“The hell you mean, finally?!” Jake exasperatedly complains.

“You never talk about girls with me,” you huff. “I was starting to think you weren’t interested in women.”

“I am interested, I just don’t talk about it,” with a roll of his eyes, he places the beer bottle on your nightstand. “And it’s really nothing!”

“Just tell me,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“Okay, fine,” Jake clears his throat, licking his lips in preparation. “She’s from the cheering squad—“

“Ooh, a cheerleader, you bad boy!” You taunt, playfully hitting him on the knee.

“Are you gonna let me tell the story?” He raises his brow, tired of your teasing.

“Okay, sorry, sorry. Continue.”

“I’ve kinda liked her since junior year? I don’t usually see her ‘cause she’s from a different program but last semester she was in my politics class,” Jake continues after a pause, “We sat next to each other, and we started to just talk, and she’s really cool…”

“Did you guys fuck?” You asked brazenly.

“No! Not yet—“

“Yet?!” You gasp. “So you have a plan?”

“I don’t know!” Jake was absolutely flushed by now, his face red as he buries it in his hands in embarrassment.

You try not to laugh at how adorable he was. Your other friends were usually as, if not more, shameless as you. Talking about sex, alcohol and even drugs weren’t a rare occurrence. But with Jake, it’s like everything you talk about flustered him.

“Do you want to?” You ask him after a moment. “To fuck her. I mean.”

Jake takes his face out of his hands, but keeps his head hung low. He starts fiddling with the fabric of his trousers. He once again gives you a shrug. “Maybe, I-I don’t know…”

You tsk. “There’s nothing wrong if you want to! What if this girl wants to get into your pants, too?”

Jake’s entire face grows even redder, if that were even humanly possible. He grabs a pillow from your mattress and buries his face in it, grumbling about something you couldn’t understand.

You gently pry the pillow away from his face. “Seriously, Jake. What’s wrong in trying to get yourself laid?”

“I dunno,” he huffs. “I never thought I’d ever want to.”

“All guys want to get laid at one point, even you,” you argue.

“I don’t even know how,” Jake complains. “Like… how to approach her, how to kiss her or what, it’d be so embarrassing!”

“Well, what do you wanna know?” You ask him. “You can always ask me.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow. “Wouldn’t that be…”

“Embarrassing?” You fill for him. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers. Is there anything left to be embarrassed about?

“I guess not,” Jake pauses for a bit, as if he’s giving it some thought. “Okay, fine.”

Evening flies by, you and Jake have been in the same position for over an hour. He spent the entire time asking you (what in your opinion are,) basic sex questions. He started of by asking how to approach a woman, before leading more raunchier questions, like how to make out with a girl, and what to do when receiving a blowjob.

“You need to hold her hair up in a ponytail, like this,” you exhibit by taking all of your hair in your hands. “You try it.”

“What, on you?” Jake asks.

“It’s just hair, Jake,” you roll your eyes. “Go on.”

Reluctantly, Jake reaches out to take over, holding all of your hair in one hand. He’s gentle, trying not to tug too much in fear of hurting you.

“Good job,” you offer as praise. “You need to keep that grip while she’s sucking you off. Makes it easier for her to get her hair out of the way.”

“Okay,” Jake supplies. He’s taking all of this pretty well, despite being a little conscious. You’re not all that surprised, seeing as this is Jake. You give this man any type of instructions and he’ll follow through with no issue.

He drops your hair as you pull away. Both of you are still sat on your bed, facing each other.

“Anything else you want to ask?” You pry.

“Um,” You can see Jake swallow, probably hyping himself up to ask you a specific question. “About the, um… the actual,, thing…”

“What about it?” You ask.

Jake takes a deep breath. “You’ve just been teaching me about like, other stuff, what about the actual sex part?”

Granted, you’ve just been teaching him about the basics, kissing, foreplay, blowjobs, but you never really thought you had to teach him about sex.

Jake really was that innocent.

You let out a puff of air. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jake. You just kinda.. y’know, put it in.”

Jake’s face scrunches in distaste. “Won’t it hurt?”

“For her, yeah maybe. ‘specially if you’re packing. Haven’t you like.. watched porn before?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Jake shakes his head. “No. I told you, I never thought I’d be interested in this.”

Poor Jake. You sigh, trying to think of something that can provide Jake any assistance. You can make him watch porn now, but knowing how inaccurate those are, it’d probably be more of a disaster to make Jake watch. A quick Google search could help, but written instructions for something so… complicated would probably also provide little to no help.

Just then, you get an idea.

“You know what,” you begin. “Why don’t I just show you?”

Jake blinks. “Huh.”

“Let me show you how to have sex. It’s easier that way, and you can pretend it’s just practice.” You say.

If there was a world record for how fast a person can turn red in a blink of an eye, Jake would have won it by now. It takes a moment for the cogs in his brain to load, and for the words to make it past his mouth. “I-I… are you serious?”

You nod. “Absolutely serious.”

Jake, absolutely gobsmacked by your suggestion, just stares at your face. “Won’t it be…”

“Embarrassing?” You repeat your earlier response with a smirk. “I told you already, there’s no need to be embarrassed with me.”

After a few seconds of thought, Jake nods his head.

Moments pass. You’ve taken the liberty to tidy up the bed a little before your… endevours with Jake begin. He’s now sat on your chair, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

You finish gathering all of the empty beer bottles in a corner by your door. You stack the pillows neatly by the headboard, before sitting in the middle of your king-sized bed, facing Jake.

His head is still hung low, but every once in a while he glances at you. When you’re finished tidying, he gives you an awkward look.

You pat the space in front of you. “Come sit.”

He follows, climbing on the bed and sitting adjacent to you. He’s still awkward, but you can tell from his face alone that he really wants to learn.

“You sure you want to do this?” You ask.

Jake nods, and you see him anxiously fiddling with his fingers again. “I do.”

“If you want to stop, you just tell me, okay?” You expressed. Jake nods again.

You scooch forward until both of your knees touch, before leaning in close to grab Jake by the neck, pulling him into a kiss. You can feel the heat from his skin through your fingers, and yet his lips feel soft against yours.

He’s gentle with it, but it takes a minute for him to relax and sink into the kiss. Soon enough you feel him slouch against you, his hands ever so lightly gripping your shoulders.

You knew you weren’t his first kiss, but he still lacks the experience to take the lead, so you run your tongue against his bottom lip, before slipping it in his open mouth.

He freezes, unsure of what to do, and before any of you can act, Jake accidentally bites down on your tongue.

“Ah, shit,” you hiss, pulling away in pain.

“S-Sorry—!” Jake tries to apologize.

“It’s fine,” you laugh. “But remember to be ready next time.”

Jake nods, and you lean towards him again. Jake expects another kiss but you go for his neck, lightly kissing the expanse of his skin.

“Always start slow,” you teach between kisses, “Don’t rush into it.”

Jake gives a small nod, letting you kiss your way back to his lips. This time, he’s much more relaxed, and he doesn’t bite when you slip your tongue in. He hums through the kiss, unconsciously leaning in for more.

When you pull away for air, you begin repositioning yourself on the bed. “You can sit in front of each other just like this, or…” you trail off, hopping off of the mattress and into Jake’s lap, “you can sit her on your lap.”

In this position, you’re looking down on Jake, and he’s looking right back up. His neck is craned, probably uncomfortably, but he’s looking at you with doe eyes, absorbing everything you’re doing and saying. His hands are on your waist, and you can feel the warmth of his body due to your proximity.

You find yourself clearing your throat, feeling your mouth dry a little. You try not to think too hard as you press your lips against Jake’s one more time.

This kiss is shorter this time, as you pull away to trail open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his neck, your lips find their way below Jake’s ear, and you feel him shudder.

“You can give her a hickey, if she’s okay with that,” you whisper.

“H-How?” Jake mutters.

“Like this,” you hum before sucking the skin right below Jake’s ear, hard enough to leave a mark.

“A-Ah—!” Taken by surprise, Jake reacts. His hand finds its way to your hair, but he’s not quite sure if he should pull you off to make you stop, or push you further to let you continue.

You run your tongue at the spot, pressing a chaste kiss. Seeing the reddish mark, you smirk in pride.

You continue kissing his neck as your hands trail downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt. You pull away to tug it off of him, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Your hands continue down to his trousers, as you unbutton and zip them while you mark another lovebite by his clavicle.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Jake makes a move to hide himself in his hands, but not without you pulling them away. Instead, you push him forward, letting his back hit the mattress.

“Don’t cover yourself,” you mumble. “You’re gorgeous.”

Now even more embarrassed, Jake whines once he feels your hands running all over him, over his neck, his chest, his thighs. You toy with the edge of his boxers, aware of the bulge of his cock printing through the fabric.

Unable to help yourself, you take the palm of your hand and press it against his hard-on, humming in satisfaction as he jolts up.

“Oh—!” Jake yelps.

“Feels good?” You ask.

Jake nods fervently. You take the time to take off his boxers, watching his half hard cock spring from its confinement. You give yourself a minute to stare, watching as your best friend, flushed from head to toe, stares at you with such a debauched expression.

“I know I’m supposed to be teaching you,” you begin, wrapping a hand around his cock as you speak. “But I can’t stop myself.”

“S-Stop yourself?” He repeats. “F-From what?”

You never responded, instead you began moving your hand up and down Jake’s cock in high speed, watching as the boy begins shaking, eyes widening and mouth open in a silent cry.

“Wait— fuck!” Jake shouts, his hand reaching out for your wrist but not pulling or pushing you away. His thighs try to close themselves around you, but your other hand is quick to spread them open again. “Please, w-wait!”

You feel a little evil, but you can’t stop, not when Jake continues to make the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. The pace of your strokes don’t slow, and you begin to twist your palm at the base of his cock, watching as precum accumulates on the tip.

“Ngh, fu-uhck—!” Jake moans, back arching from the bed. His hands are gripping the sheets below him, eyes shut as the pleasure shoots through his spine. “Oh, [name], puh, please—!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Please wait, Jake?”

You half expect him to tell you to stop or at least slow down, but he doesn’t respond. His legs give out and you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head. A hand on his thigh alerts you that he’s still shaking, his face contorting in pleasure.

So, instead of being merciful, you continue teasing him instead, “Feels good, Jakey?”

He nods his head so fast you’re afraid he might get neck pain. Your hand continues to stroke his cock at a brisk pace. His precum is leaking everywhere, allowing for extra lubrication as you continue.

“S-So good—!” Jake replies, “Please—“

You’re not even sure what Jake’s begging for, and you doubt Jake does either. You continue stroking for another minute, before your pace slows to a halt.

“N-No, please—“ Jake whines, “W-Why stop…?”

“You’re here to learn how to fuck, aren’t you?” You tease as you begin ridding yourself of your clothes.

Jake, both unsure of what to do with himself, but also at a trance, finds himself staring at your form. He can’t help but to stare at your breasts as you chuck your bra and the rest of your clothes to the floor.

“Like what you see?” You joke, positioning yourself back on his lap. Jake nods, breathlessly staring up at you.

You take some time to lean by your nightstand, blindly rummaging through your drawer for a condom. Once you finally found one, you tear the packet and grab the piece of latex, sliding the rubber down Jake’s cock.

“Usually, I don’t let guys fuck me without fingering me first,” you say as you position yourself. “But let’s say you’re an exception.”

You begin to sink down on Jake’s cock, eyeing the man’s face as it once again contorts in pleasure. You hiss a little at the intrusion, given that you weren’t stretched, but you were so unbelivably wet that Jake’s cock slipped in the rest of the way with no problem.

The two of you gasp once you sat with your ass flush against Jake’s thighs, feeling him fill you up in all the right places. Though he wasn’t the biggest you’ve had, his girth still had your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck,” you curse.

Jake couldn’t agree more. His hands shakily grip the sides of your hips as he tries to stabilize himself. The feeling of your pussy gripping down his cock was probably one of the most intense feelings he’s ever had.

You take Jake’s face in your hands and press your lips together in a messy kiss. Jake tried to reciprocate as best as he could, but feeling your cunt clench down on his cock had him feeling dizzy.

After a while, you pull away, “‘m gonna start moving.”

You don’t wait for a reply before you began moving your hips, grinding against Jake’s lap, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jake’s cock.

“O-Oh my god,” Jake has his eyes shut, his back against the headboard as he gripped your hips for dear life. “[name]—“

“Yeah?” You hummed, starting to pick up the pace as you bounced on his cock. “‘s good, hm?”

Jake nods, “S-So fuckin’ good.”

You continued to bounce on his lap, your hands gripping his shoulders as you do so. The feeling of Jake’s cock pushing in and out of you was so goddamn addicting, you’ve never had anything like it.

The coil in your gut was tightening with every thrust, like it would burst at any moment. You took a moment to look at Jake, who was now staring at your every move, mouth open as he kept making those delicious noises.

“F-Feels so good, oh god,” Jake groans.

“Yeah, Jakey?” You can’t help but moan, “You’re so fucking cute—“

Jake tries to shake his head, but he can no longer respond. There’s a tightening in his abdomen that keeps growing by the minute, his entire body is shaking, and his moans are growing louder at every thrust.

“You gonna cum?” You ask, bracing your hands behind you as you quicken your pace. “Gonna cum in me, Jakey? Gonna cum in my pussy?”

Jake cries out at the thought, hands returning to your hips. “Fuck, please, c-can I?”

You smirk, feeling yourself growing closer. “Please what?”

“C-Cum, please,” Jake gasps, trying his hardest not to burst without permission. “C-Can I— fuuuuck, cum i-in you, p-please?”

You hum, wrapping your hands around Jake’s neck and pulling him close, “Cum, Jakey.”

Jake’s moans grow loud as he bursts, cumming into the condom inside of you. It takes only three more thrusts before you’re cumming alongside him, your entire body shaking as you hold on to the boy.

A minute passes, then two. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath. You gently move off of Jake’s lap, his cock slipping out of your cunt as you do so. You slip off the used condom, tying it before chucking it into the trash beside your bed.

Jake is already lying down, face up against the ceiling. You collapse beside him, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm.

“That was…” Jake tries to say, but you just shake your head.

“Save your post-sex comments for your cheerleader girlfriend,” you tease, trying to ease the tension.

Jake turns to the side to face you. “I don’t think I wanna talk to her anymore.”

You eye him from the side, with an eyebrow raised. “You sure ‘bout that?”

Jake merely grabs you by the waist, pulling you close before burying his face in your neck. “‘m sure.” He mumbles.

You’re not too opposed to it, either.

NOTE. ngl this one kinda sucks but i decided to post it anyway. please do send in requests! thanks.

© dollesung 2025

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.1

Chapter One: Hide Your Heart From Sight

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Celebrities, Starstruck,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Welcome to this disaster of a fic that I have constantly daydreamed about. Logistically, yes, it is so improbable and unrealistic— but there’s a 0.001% chance that it could happen… to you. It’s nice to wonder and dream. I like wondering. Granted, I’ve never worked in production ever… I am studying advertising and arts soooo that’s as much knowledge I have tehe. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: It Could Happen To You by Laufey

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

The hum of the plane’s engines filled the air as you settled into your seat, trying not to fidget. You glanced at your boarding pass again, as if to double-check you weren’t hallucinating. Seat 3B—business class. Marvel had spared no expense for the production team’s travel, but you still couldn’t quite believe you’d be flying so comfortably.

What shocked you even more, though, was the man lowering himself into the seat next to yours: Pedro Pascal. Yes, that Pedro Pascal. The man whose movies you’d watched obsessively before joining this production, the actor who somehow seemed both unattainably larger-than-life and heartbreakingly down-to-earth.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Looks like we’re seatmates.”

You froze for a moment, then managed a weak, “Hi.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete idiot.

“You’re with the crew, right?” Pedro asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you stammered, “I’m just a production assistant. It’s my first big project.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed. “First time working on a Marvel movie? How’s it going so far?”

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, relaxing slightly under his easygoing demeanor. “I mean, it’s been amazing, but also kind of overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and everyone’s so talented. I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“I get it,” Pedro said, nodding. “First big gig can be a lot. But hey, you’re here. That means someone saw something in you, right?”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Pedro asked you about your favorite movies, your hobbies, and how you’d gotten into production work. You told him about your love for art direction and set design, your dream of one day being a production designer, and your side passion for writing and music. When you mentioned you played guitar and sang, he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to play something for us on set sometime,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’d probably die of embarrassment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he replied, his tone light but mischievous.

By the time the plane landed, you were buzzing—partly from the conversation and partly from the fact that you’d just spent hours talking to Pedro Pascal as if he were an old friend.

The buzz quickly faded when you arrived at the hotel. You stood in the lobby with the rest of the crew, listening as the location manager, Duncan, argued with the front desk staff. Apparently, there’d been a mix-up with the bookings. The hotel was overbooked due to a telecommunications conference, and somehow, you’d been assigned to share a suite… with Pedro Pascal.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered to yourself, your anxiety spiking as Duncan tried to sort things out. But no matter how much back-and-forth there was, the conclusion remained the same: there were no other rooms available.

“Look,” Pedro said finally, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing if she’s okay with it.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. “I…”

“Hey,” he said gently, noticing your hesitation. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. “Look at me. I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Duncan, who looked as stressed as you felt. Finally, you nodded. “I’m fine with it if everyone else is.”

“Great,” Pedro said, flashing you a reassuring smile. “It’s settled, then.”

Duncan pulled you aside before you headed to the elevators. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his tone fatherly.

“Yes,” you said, forcing a smile. “Is there any kind of form I need to sign, or…?”

“No, it all falls under the NDA from your employment,” he assured you. “But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.”

You thanked him and joined Pedro in the elevator. The ride up to the suite was silent, save for the soft dinging of the floors passing by. When you finally stepped into the room, you couldn’t help but gape. It was a spacious suite with two bedrooms on opposite sides, a small kitchenette, and a cozy living area.

“This isn’t so bad,” Pedro said, dropping his bag by the door. He turned to you, his expression kind. “Do you have a preference for which room?”

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag. “Um, no, you can pick.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he insisted, his tone playful.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the room on the right. “I’ll take that one.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

As you unpacked in your room, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You were sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal. For at least a week. And somehow, you had to act like a normal, functioning human being the entire time.

You took a deep breath and flopped over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Letting out a huff of air in disbelief, you muttered to yourself, “This has to be some sort of dream… or prank, right?”

Placing both hands over your face, you rubbed it in exasperation. “Get your shit together, girl. No screwing things up, no more internal freakouts. He’s a person, like you. Mhm, sure. Yup. Totally fine.”

You sighed deeply, trying to convince yourself of your own words. The suite was spacious and nicely furnished, with plenty of room to keep your distance—but that didn’t stop your overactive imagination from running wild. Every interaction felt loaded with the possibility of embarrassing yourself, but you swore you’d keep it together.

To say people around the production crew had heard about your new roomie was an understatement.

The day before shooting began, you attended a pre-production meeting that covered everything: call sheet details, blocking and camera movement, technical requirements, and a bunch of safety protocols. It was standard procedure but felt ten times more overwhelming knowing your friends would tease you mercilessly.

You sat with your friends from the art department, trying to focus, but they weren’t making it easy. Archie, one of the lead set designers, leaned over with a smirk. “So, how’s life as Pedro Pascal’s roomie?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I—it’s not… it’s just temporary,” you stammered, fiddling with the edge of your notebook.

Stephanie, a costume designer with an endless supply of sass, raised an eyebrow. “Temporary or not, it’s the stuff of rom-coms, babe. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined a meet-cute scenario in that suite.”

“I have not!” you protested, though your flaming cheeks betrayed you. 

Will, an art director with a love for stirring the pot, chuckled. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little… serendipitous? You, a huge fan, sharing a suite with the guy? Sounds like fate to me.”

“It’s not fate,” you insisted, trying to deflect. “It’s a logistical mistake, that’s all.”

Max, the trainee set dresser, chimed in with a grin. “Yeah, but a logistical mistake that’s got everyone talking. Even Steve heard about it, and he’s usually the last to know anything.”

Steve, the lighting technician, shrugged. “What can I say? Word travels fast. I’m just here to see how long it takes for Pedro to find out about your… fandom.”

“Oh my god, can we not?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.”

Rebecca, a fellow production assistant and one of your closest friends, patted your shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he seems like the kind of guy who’d find it endearing. Besides, you’ve been professional so far, right?”

You nodded hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t said anything stupid yet.”

“Yet being the keyword,” Sophie teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Patricia, always the voice of reason, smiled warmly. “Just be yourself. You’re great at your job, and Pedro’s just another actor. A very charming actor, sure, but still just a person.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” you said, feeling slightly more grounded. But the anxiety still lingered, especially with everyone’s teasing reminders of your not-so-secret crush.

As the meeting wrapped up and you headed back to your tasks, you couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling inside you. Sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal might’ve been a logistical mistake, but it was quickly turning into one of the most unreal experiences of your life.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL, LONDON — NIGHT

Dinner with the cast and crew had been lively, filled with laughter, and far too many knowing glances sent your way by your friends. The teasing hadn’t stopped, even over plates of pasta and glasses of wine.

Archie had leaned over at one point, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when Pedro walks out of the bathroom shirtless? Swoon or faint?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Archie!”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a valid question.”

Stephanie smirked. “She’s probably rehearsing her ‘I’m totally cool and unaffected’ face right now.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Rebecca grinned. “No, you don’t. But seriously, just enjoy the moment. How many people can say they’ve shared a hotel room with Pedro Pascal?”

By the time the group had wandered back to the shuttle, your cheeks were sore from laughing, and your nerves were only slightly calmed. But as the cold London air nipped at your skin, you found yourself longing for the warmth of the hotel.

Your teeth chattered as you stepped off the shuttle, clutching your coat tighter around you. You didn’t like the cold very much, and London was very, very cold.

The moment you entered the hotel lobby, the warmth began to seep into your body, and you let out a sigh of relief. The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, your mind finally shutting down after a long evening of socializing. By the time you reached your room, you were operating on autopilot.

Tapping your keycard to the door, you quietly pushed it open, careful not to disturb Pedro if he was already asleep. It was just past 9:30 p.m., and you knew the early call time tomorrow would have him resting early.

You shut the door softly behind you, locking the deadbolt before shuffling into the room. You removed your coat, scarf, and shoes, swapping them for the fuzzy slippers you’d packed. The room was dimly lit, and you moved quietly, hoping not to make too much noise.

“Oh, you’re back.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching your chest as your heart tried to escape it. Whipping around, you found Pedro lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands and a soft, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a plain white tee and gray sweatpants, his square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked entirely too comfortable—like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were still awake,” you said, voice breathless as you tried to recover from the scare.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You were so quiet coming in, I thought maybe you were sneaking around.”

You set your things on the small table by the door, giving him an exasperated look. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” He tilted his head, watching you with that relaxed air that somehow made you feel completely exposed. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” you said, shrugging as you moved toward the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water. “Everyone was in high spirits, and the food was great. We took a little walk around the city before heading back.”

Pedro closed his book, setting it on the coffee table. “Sounds nice. London at night can be magical.”

“Yeah, it was.” You paused, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Though, I think I underestimated just how cold it gets here. My teeth were chattering the whole way back.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. “Didn’t bring a warm enough coat?”

“I thought I did, but apparently not. I’m not built for this kind of weather,” you admitted with a laugh, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to stave off the lingering chill.

Pedro stood, crossing the room with an easy grace that made your breath hitch. “Well, we can’t have you freezing, can we?” He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and held it out to you. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple gesture. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just get cold really easily. Besides, I’ll warm up eventually.”

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not a big deal.”

Reluctantly, you took the blanket, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. It sent a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fabric now wrapped around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

“Better?” he asked, stepping back to give you space but still watching you with that disarmingly kind expression.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “Much. Thanks, Pedro.”

He smiled again, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there. But then he broke the silence, his voice light. “So, did they give you a hard time at dinner?”

Your face heated instantly. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “I heard some of the cast talking earlier. Apparently, your friends in the art department have been… teasing you about the room situation.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh no. What exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing incriminating,” he said with a laugh. “Just that they’re convinced this is some kind of meet-cute scenario straight out of a rom-com.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone easy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Your hands dropped to your sides, your eyes wide. “Flattering?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to know someone thinks sharing a room with me is worth all that excitement.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process the fact that Pedro Pascal—Pedro Pascal—was standing in front of you, teasing you in the most charming way possible.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big day.”

He gave you one last smile before retreating to his side of the suite, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a head full of thoughts you were too scared to unpack.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

You woke to the soft chime of your alarm, the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains. Shuffling into the bathroom with a yawn, you turned on the shower, letting the warm water coax you into wakefulness. You placed your phone on the counter, tapping on a playlist to fill the small space with soft, melodic tunes—comforting background noise that kept your mind from spiraling too early in the day.  

After your shower, you toweled off and began your morning routine. Skincare applied with practiced ease, makeup brushed on with care, you avoided the mirror for too long, focusing instead on the growing anticipation of the day ahead. Pinning your ID to your lanyard, you glanced at your phone again.  

The group chat with your team was buzzing:  

Archie: "We’re fifteen minutes out. Don’t keep us waiting, queen 👑."  

Rebecca: "Text when you’re coming down!"  

Max: "Coffee run? Pls? 🙏"  

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tapped out a quick reply, your fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before you switched apps.  

Your heart did a little stutter as you opened your browser—a Joel Miller fanfic you’d been obsessing over still lingering on your screen. You skimmed the most recent chapter, your thumb pausing to scroll as you half-laughed at the absurdity of sneaking in a few paragraphs before a full day on set. You switched to the chat thread with your online friends, who were deep in a heated discussion about whether Joel would be the type to cook breakfast for his partner. You couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing in a quick, “He’d definitely make pancakes and act like it’s no big deal,” before locking your phone and setting it on the counter.  

Moving on autopilot, you padded into the small kitchenette, barefoot and still humming softly to the tune stuck in your head. You set the coffee machine to brew, pulling out a couple of mugs, a jar of Nutella, and some bread. Your hands moved with muscle memory, spreading the hazelnut spread on toast and slicing up a handful of fruit without a second thought. It wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the air that you realized you’d made two plates of toast—one for you and one for Pedro.  

The realization struck at the same moment you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you.  

“Morning.”  

His voice was low and warm, still carrying the huskiness of sleep. You froze, phone in one hand, butter knife in the other, as you turned to see Pedro leaning against the doorframe. His hair was adorably tousled, and he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, and you nearly dropped your phone in a panic.  

“Good morning,” you managed, your voice a little too high-pitched as you fumbled to lock your screen. The thought of him catching even a glimpse of what you’d been reading was enough to make your cheeks burn.  

Pedro glanced at the counter, taking in the toast, coffee, and neatly sliced fruit. “You made breakfast?”  

“Oh, uh—yeah.” You set your phone down and gestured awkwardly toward the spread. “I made you some coffee and toast with Nutella. I wasn’t sure if you’d want that, and there’s fruit, too. I was just about to cut some more, but obviously, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, and—”  

“Hey.” Pedro’s soft chuckle cut through your rambling, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”  

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in his voice. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing, really.”  

He moved past you to grab a mug of coffee, the proximity sending your pulse into overdrive. As he poured himself a cup, you noticed his shoulders relaxed and his movements unhurried. He took a sip and let out a small, contented sigh.  

“Perfect,” he said, glancing over at you with a grin. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”  

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy. “I’m pretty sure this doesn’t count as spoiling. It’s just toast.”  

“Yeah, but it’s good toast,” he teased, holding up a slice as if to emphasize his point.  

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing slightly. The moment felt impossibly domestic—like a scene out of one of those fanfics you’d been reading. Only this time, it wasn’t Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with you. It was Pedro.  

And that was somehow even more surreal.  

Pedro leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both hands. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. “So,” he started, his voice warm and casual, “what were you so engrossed in on your phone earlier? You looked ready to throw it out the window when I walked in.”  

Your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it cool, even though you were fairly certain your face was now several shades of red. “Oh, nothing,” you lied, brushing a crumb off the counter. “Just the group chat. You know how chaotic they are.”  

Pedro tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mm-hmm. Sure it wasn’t something more... intriguing?”  

You swallowed hard, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. “Intriguing?”  

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief over the rim of his mug. “You tell me.”  

“It’s nothing!” you blurted out, a little too defensively. “Just—just boring stuff. Work stuff.”  

“Work stuff,” he repeated slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Because people laugh at boring work stuff while making toast.”  

You groaned, setting your mug down as you ran a hand over your face. “Can we not? Please? I’m already mortified enough.”  

Pedro chuckled, the sound low and teasing but not unkind. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go... for now.” He set his mug on the counter and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me a story later. Deal?”  

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Depends on how much coffee you’ve had by then. I might need you slightly less smug for that conversation.”  

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Smug? I prefer charming. But I’ll take it under advisement.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The playful banter made the room feel lighter, warmer.  

By the time you both finished your coffee, the atmosphere had shifted into something comfortable and easy. You quickly rinsed the dishes, your hands moving on autopilot as Pedro lingered nearby, chatting about everything and nothing.  

As you dried your hands, your phone buzzed on the counter, and you glanced at the screen.  

Rebecca: “Bus is almost there. Better get your cute butt down here!”  

You shot back a quick reply: “On my way.” Turning to Pedro, you grabbed your bag and gestured toward the door. “I’ve got to head down. My shuttle’s waiting.”  

Pedro grabbed his own bag and trailed after you. “I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got my own ride coming, but they’re always late.”  

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the hum of its descent filling the silence. The confined space suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken tension.  

Pedro stood close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you pressed the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, hoping it would anchor you somehow.  

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost intimate in the stillness of the elevator. “What’s the plan for today?”  

You glanced at him, his brown eyes watching you closely, the curve of his smile softer now. “Same as usual, I guess,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Make sure everything runs smoothly while you and everyone else look good on camera.”  

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You make it sound so simple, but I know you’re the one holding it all together.”  

His words caught you off guard, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I just do my job.”  

“And you do it damn well,” he said, his tone sincere now, no teasing edge in sight.  

The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby, breaking the moment. Pedro gestured for you to step out first, and you did, your pulse still racing.  

“Thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure if you were thanking him for his compliment or just for letting you escape the charged space of the elevator.  

As you spotted your shuttle waiting outside, you turned to him, suddenly aware of how reluctant you were to leave. “I’ll see you on set?”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. See you soon.”  

You stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your face as you walked toward the shuttle. But even as you climbed aboard and found a seat, your mind was still back in that elevator, replaying every glance, every word, every spark.

End Notes:

Oh hi! I missed doing these silly bits; I thought to bring ‘em back. But, don’t worry, I’ll try to yap less haha

Yes, it’s super cliche, cheesy, unrealistic, and practically a hallmark movie in the making. But that’s the fun part in fanfiction and writing, it’s all made up and no one here is allowed to “yuck” each other’s “yum” if you know what I mean. ;)

Also, I have no idea how production for film works so I’m researching stuff and making stuff up along the way pls no one come after me T^T

Weirdly enough, I saw a reddit post from someone who works at the front of the hotel desk and they say the one-bed trope/one-room trope; it actually happens pretty frequently lol so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca

[king4aday]

A Postcard Story:

So for Dean's 46th this year, he decides to drag his husband around the states in Baby, ordering radio silence from his family to enjoy the open road, wherever the road takes them.

Here's a thread of postcards he sends Sam along the roadtrip:

Seattle was a nice place to start, people are kind and there's a lot of good food he's never tried. Dean was just glad that Cas could fly Baby with them to get there. Don't get him wrong, angel flight sucks too, for his stomach in particular, but it's nowhere near as bad as a plane.

When they drove into Cali, he was glad they managed to see the bridge in all it's glory. Real movie moment for him. They relaxed in Santa Cruz for a while, enjoying the views along the Pacific coast highway. He brought the Hawaiian shirts they bought when they all went to Gran Canaria a few summers ago as a family, getting nice tans before moving on.

Cas didn't let him rest for long when they got to L.A, asking Dean to hear him out before getting mad as he dragged him out. All frustration disappeared when they arrived at the studio though, Dean nerded out about the themed restaurants and rides while there was a mustard stain on his chin from chili dog he devoured. Cas was just happy to eat a burger and see Dean smile.

Tombstone flipped the tables for them. Now Cas loves his husband's passion, it's one of the most endearing qualities, he'd never let anyone dim the brightness he has talking about cowboys and westerns. But it can be a lot sometimes. He was committed to buying them both a full cowboy outfit before they left. Plus a hat for Jack, a buckle for Sam, new cowboy boots for Eileen and souvenirs he could hand out to the family.

Despite it being hot as balls, Dean loved being in Texas again. They ate some good authentic barbeque and went to a few museums Cas was interested in. Dean liked hearing him talk about the old buildings, the history and changes the landscape went through and Cas liked seeing Dean take selfies in front of the world's tallest cowboy boots, having to stop him promptly from climbing it and potentially breaking his back from a fall.

They took it slow in New Orleans, strolling down the french quarter like they were a couple courting in some Edwardian romance. It was warm but not oppressive, content to walk aimlessly, hand in hand, while the sounds of buskers playing strings echoed around the alleys. They danced under a street lamp, and kissed sweetly when the moon rose, all he could think about was how he felt safe in Cas' arms.

Dean loved it in Downtown, he felt right at home, locals welcoming him and Cas with open arms. They passed him free drinks when they saw their rings, pushed him on stage to sing some tipsy version of 'Should've been a cowboy'. Cas seemed to find it funny. He wouldn't say why.

He'd forgotten what a real Philly cheese steak was supposed to taste like but fuck him, he can't ever go back. One of the owners happily gave him the recipe, challenging him in recreating the sandwich he ordered. He's not got it perfect yet, but he's determined. At least Cas is a bottomless pit who can eat all the failed attempts he makes, zero waste fun!

New York was strange. He kept thinking about all the eccentrics and wide eyed kids who probably had dreams he'd never even considered before. At least when he looks at Cas now, he doesn't think he's done badly, hell maybe he's living a dream these New Yorkers wish they had too. He can't imagine what it's like to hedge all your scraped money and efforts on a chance of making it big as any kind of artist. He's pretty sure he already hit the jackpot with his life.

Teaching Cas to fish in Maine was a tumultuous task to put it nicely. Cas is already bitchy enough and Dean knows he can give as good as he gets, but they agreed never to go on a tiny boat alone together if one of them doesn't want to be drowned. Not to say they didn't have a good time though. They enjoyed the quiet of the calm waters and the breeze on their skin. Cas' first successful catch of the visit put them at ease, hell they were gonna drink a bottle of whiskey to celebrate, he got a pretty big one after all.

Cas was really making use of that sketchpad. He bought it for his husband a couple hundred miles back, noticing him sketching absent mindedly whenever there was a moment of reprieve. Dean hasn't seen everything inside, but he's seriously amazed at Cas' talent. Who knew right? It's a good way to store the memories, something more personal than the dorky couple selfies they took together in front of the falls. He'll look through them fondly later, remembering the time he took to enjoy his life, and enjoy Cas. Both things he's taken for granted before. He's learned his lesson now.

“It was awesome, seriously, and the water was so clear too, y'know? I asked Cas about Paradise falls on the way home” “The one in Venezuela?” Sam surmises, nursing his beer with a small smile. “Yeah! Well he said that he'd been a couple times centuries ago and it felt pretty magical then, and then I said ‘Did you know they're called Angel Falls too?’ and he gave me that look–” “I did not give you that look.” Cas frowns. “You totally did, Sam, you know the one.” “I did not give any looks, I just said that I was aware, and that was that.” Sam watches them both roll their eyes fondly at each other, hands definitely held together under the map table. “Whatever, my point is, we should totally go there together! I mean with the Angel flight express we could camp somewhere pretty close to the falls themselves.” “Like in 'Up' ? I'm in!” Jack says with a bright smile. Dean high fives him and Cas just sighs in exasperation. Eileen watches them all fondly, chin resting on her hand, likely feeling the same longing ache Sam does easing as she watches them all in the same space again. Sam missed this. He was really happy that Dean wanted to take time away for himself, for Cas too. They deserved to disappear from the world and live some of the life they both missed out on. But damn did he miss his family's regular bullshit, nothing makes him happier. “You know what, that sounds like a great idea.” Dean looks back at him with surprise, but it quickly shifts into that signature grin. “That's what I wanna hear! I knew I could count on you Sammy.” “How about we feed you before you go taking us to the other end of the world? Can't plan for reckless journeys on empty stomachs.” Ellen segways smartly. Dean claps his hands and points at her in agreement and they all start to get up to move. Sam sits and watches for a few seconds, just to be grateful for what he has. “Sammy, you good man?” Dean asks, looking back over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah I'm good. Oh hey, Dean?” Dean raises his eyebrows in question. “Happy birthday.” Dean rolls his eyes, but smiles at him, and they walk together towards the kitchen.

💙💚

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

Bored nobles. Of course. So the same ones who talked bad about him with just thinly veiled attempts to hide it, were the ones who tormented Aerith as if she was to show off her ancient powers like a circus trick.

It was always the same type. And as much as Somnus had learned to ignore them… now that he imagined this treatment for Aerith, he had a new kind of anger ignited. One that sat deep in the pit of his chest.

She had had to deal with such, too… and her sad smile told of these tales while it also laid the base of explanations she brought forth.

It was a power as fascinating as fearsome. She could intertwine life and death like the strand of vines that sat at her side.  And yet with these powers she also had a responsibility towards those involved. Aerith realized that. And yet it was hard to decipher how others would react.

Somnus found himself staring at her in quiet wonder. She painted the smallest details, yet her thoughts had to handle the details of people’s feelings that she had never even met.

“I know his family.”, Somnus said silently. His foot slid off of the little stool and instead he placed the helmet upon it, before stepping around all the supplies around Aerith.  The uniform’s little parts and pieces made metallic clicking noises as he knelt down beside her, looking at the urn. She had painted incredibly much in this short time. It already told of how beautiful the finished piece would be. Fit for a hero.

“If you want to try this, we can do this together. I can speak to the family for you. I know our beliefs, our culture and our traditions. I can only guess how they will react. But I think I have a better grip on how they will do. I do not want you to be put into an uncomfortable situation.”

His fingers’ touch was featherlight against the back of her hand. Stilling her paintbrush and yet he did not even apply pressure to her skin. He just wanted to show her – he was there. At her side. In all of this.

“ Your offer is more than anyone in grief could hope for and even if there can be disappointment… it will not be directed to you.  All you do is open the door to a possible chance of a proper farewell. I am sure Nikolaos’ parents and siblings would appreciate that.”

Aerith hummed again, deeply anchored by her task. It wasn't that she was avoiding glancing up at him in conversation. It was a fine balance of multitasking, tackling this behemoth of a task while keeping up some banter with Somnus.

After all, he wasn't posing for her pleasure of viewing him. He was her reference. The glances and lingering looks were mostly tied to the painting. Mostly.

"... I don't know, but I can guess." she offered, because it was the truth. "There aren't many Cetra left. The farmlands are mostly people who don't have magic, and it's not so much the hard-working citizens who ask those bold questions. It's usually people in the circles of nobility who... are bored?" Or who had egos that could barely fit inside the room without smothering those around them. "I think... not growing up with something in your own family... I can see why it may seem like fairytales and make believe."

It was a more optimistic outlook. Sometimes people were simply mean-spirited to be mean-spirited but she had to hope that wasn't the case for the majority.

His next question gave her reason enough to pause. The paint brush lowered and she sighed a quiet breath, gathering her thoughts before she looked up at him.

She didn't look upset at him for the question. Though the hint of a smile on her face was a saddened one. How had he done that? How had he arrived at the same thread of thoughts she had hesitantly plucked at.

"I was wondering if that would be cruel of me to offer." Aerith admitted, straightening her posture a little. "His family would have to be prepared. That means... it may not happen. I could seek their permission, and then Nikolaos may not wish to leave. It's not as simple as asking him and then scheduling in an appointment, if I could reach him and ask the question... his family would have to be prepared then and there to receive a visit from his spirit. The Lifestream isn't an exact science. With Nikolaos only recently departing, I have no doubt it will be easier to find him, but... his family would have to be prepared for disappointment all the same."

Her head shook a little. "I don't know these people. They don't know me. On one hand I don't want to devastate them if I can't reach Nikolaos. On the other hand is it my right to decide what's best for them, if there's a good chance they can say farewell?"

She looked down again, and again she lifted her paintbrush, quietly resuming where she had left off. "I thought about not asking, and simply praying after the burial rites have concluded. But... it shouldn't be a spectacle. It should be something done in private. I just don't know how to convince his family, maybe... asking them to join me in a prayer? To offer them a chance to speak with the Lifestream... I really don't know."

[blitzwhore]

Don't mind me, I'm just... Thinking about season 3 being about found family. About making an active choice to love someone, and allow yourself to be loved by them in return.

For Blitz, it means fighting like hell for the family he's created (Loona, Stolas, M&M), but also being harassed by his father and having to face him and cut him out for good, and continuing to fight for Barbie's forgiveness. Hoping one day he'll have her back.

For M&M, it's making a choice about bringing a new member into their family, whether that's what they both want and need right now, both still facing the demons of their past because of the circumstances of their upbringing.

For Loona, it's having to face her biological family and the horrible place she was left to grow up in, and fully embracing that Blitz is her family, and not whoever brought her into this world to begin with.

And for Via and Stolas, it's realising that even though Stolas had no choice in her conception, from the day she hatched he chose over and over again to be her father, every single day; realising that that matters, too, and now they have a chance to choose each other (and Blitz and Loona) again, in a way they never could before.

Just... family, whether blood-related or not, being found, created, forged—an active choice you make over and over again.

Just the idea of choosing a person, or multiple people, every single step of the way, with every choice you make. Choosing to show up, to make amends, to rebuild burned bridges and make them stronger than they ever were before. And embracing the fact that you don't have to face life alone, that you can surround yourself with people who choose you as their family.

And just. Just choosing to love and be loved in return.

*implodes*

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[monvirtu]

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

⋆ precis ~ headcanons on how quackity acts when he has a crush!

⋆ tags ~ profanity, romance, and fluff.

⋆ notes ~ taking c!quackity, q!quackity, cc!quackity, and k!quackity requests. bro's cool so yeah.

⋆       hear me out, it would be hard and easy to know when quackity has a crush on you.

⋆       if you were a streamer like him, he would constantly watch your streams or raid them with his own viewers.

iwatchquackityhaha: RAIDDDDD !!!!!

greenbeans: QUACKITY RAID!!!!

mynamesjeff: THIS IS THE 5TH TIME QUACKITY HAD RAIDED [NAME] HE'S OBSESSED

quackity: @.mynamesjeff SHUT UP JEFF

⋆       his viewers would absolutely call out him on this, but it would be a little tease that happened because it wasn't that big of a deal. he was only watching your streams, and that could simply be because he likes your content. he might be raiding your streams because he feels like it.

⋆       you, of course, never speculated about it either. it was simply him being nice and you always greeted him once you noticed his presence in your chat.

⋆       but then it got to the point where he would donate to you.

⋆       if it was a little bit of money, then no one would have batted an eye.

⋆       but this man would donate hundreds just to see your reaction.

⋆       why? because one, it makes you notice him, and two, he enjoys watching how your reaction changes every time he donates.

⋆       when he first donated, you were shocked and made sure to thank him every minute of your stream. you could be talking about something else and then randomly thank him again for the money.

⋆       then after a few more times, it got to the point where you'd lecture him for donating so much, and it eventually turned into a war with you both donating loads of money back and forth.

⋆       he always won, by the way.

' quackity donated 200 ! '

"hi"

despite the fact you had a robot reading your donations out loud, you still found yourself looking at the screen as you read what quackity had sent.

"did you seriously just donate to tell me hi?" your words echoed throughout your room, and before you could assume that he wouldn't answer, another donation appeared on the screen.

' quackity donated 100 ! '

"yes"

"quackity, we're throwing hands."

⋆       eventually, he would start texting you on discord to ask if you wanted to do a stream with him.

⋆       at first, you believed that streaming with him would be like a one-time thing, but then it became a consistent thing for viewers to see you both streaming together.

⋆       streams with similar titles started popping up all over youtube and twitch.

⋆       "minecraft with [name]" or "playing roblox with quackity"

⋆       things like that.

⋆       and that's when people started to get suspicious.

⋆       i mean, who could blame them? you both just seemed to click, and given how fast it happened, everyone was just curious.

⋆       eventually, everyone's curiosity turned into a chance to ship you and quackity, and that led to fanfics, fanart, and even edits.

⋆       to which quackity reads, views, and watches them all.

⋆       he was amused by people picking up on his little crush, but this is where him being 'a hard person to know when they like someone' comes in.

⋆       he never confirms that he likes you.

⋆       at least to you.

⋆       he'll constantly like and comment on edits or fanart of you both, or repost them to where everyone can see that he did.

⋆       it's never a shock to find you and him trending all because he decided to comment a ';)' on an edit he saw.

⋆       this would happen for a little bit until it got to the point where you started questioning what you and quackity were, so he'd ask you out later on.

⋆       he wouldn't do it on a stream because one, he wouldn't want you to feel pressured, and two, he wanted it to be a moment between you and him. nobody else.

⋆       it'd probably be around vidcon time, and that's because you'd both be in the same place, and you had more time to be around each other.

⋆       he'd invite you to hang out with him for a day, and he seems like the type of person to pull a move out of a romcom.

⋆       like, he studied romcoms a week before because he wanted to do something special.

⋆       if you're at a resturant, he'd write a note on your napkin asking if you'd be his. if you go to a beach, he made sure to write the question with seashells he found prior on the sand. if you don't like big gestures, he'll just ask you while you're on a walk or something.

⋆       but no matter what gesture he ended up pulling, his reaction would be the same to each one if you said yes.

⋆       a wide grin would spread on his face, and he'd probably give you a hug if you were okay with it.

⋆       if he ended up asking you on the beach, he'd jump into the water.

⋆       there's no denying that.

⋆       if you were okay with making your relationship public, he'd probably post a picture of you two kissing or whatnot with the caption telling fanartist to remake it.

⋆       his lockscreen would be that photo, and every art remake his followers made for him.

⋆       now if you aren't a streamer like him, it would be a little bit different.

⋆       he probably met you at your work, or just a random place in general.

⋆       if he met you at your work, you best believe he'll be constantly going there just to talk to you until he gains the confidence to ask for your number.

⋆       and that might take a bit, so you're better off asking for his number first.

⋆       he would text you all the time.

⋆       the type of man to apologize if he left you on delivered for like ten minutes.

⋆       the type of man to quickly text you back when he's streaming to let you know why he might not answer, and then proceeds to talk about you to his viewers for the rest of the stream.

"who are you texting?"

his friends taunting voice rang in his headphones, yet he could only laugh a little bit while he continued typing his message to you.

it wasn't a simple sentence that stated he would be busy, but rather a paragraph saying that he was playing games with his friends, and that he would make sure to text you as soon as he had the time.

"someone i met a while ago." quackity finally responded, and his friend hummed. "you like this someone?"

"like is an understatement."

⋆       eventually, you both would start to hang out, and then he'd ask you out once he felt like the time was right.

⋆       since you weren't a streamer, though, his chat would literally be jumping with joy once they met you.

⋆       they'd give you a nickname to match quackity's, preferably something that refers to a duck, or they'd just call you by your name if you preferred that.

⋆       if you're ever lacking confidence, quackity could sit you down in front of his stream, and with his viewer's compliments towards you, it wouldn't even take you that long to feel amazing again.

   

©𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐔𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

writings are to not be reposted, translated, or plagiarized. if you wish to show your love for my work, feel free to reblog, comment, or like.

[elryuse]

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.”

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 10, A Saturday well spend

Masterlist Word count: 2.8 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Yes, I HC Simone as a lesbian. Fight me.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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Zayne watches you intently at the breakfast table. He can tell you're nervous to see what mindset Sylus will be in when he gets here, but he's proud of you for insisting on him joining or you going home. With past boyfriends you had never cared this much. It was never because you didn't like or love them, more so because they did not care the same way about you, and you were tired of giving them everything while getting nothing back. 

That being said, he doesn't like that you're just poking around at your breakfast without taking a single bite. They've got a full day ahead and with Sylus joining them, it may become emotionally exhausting. That's not a problem of course, but you should eat. 

'Please eat,' he mumbles. You look up from the table with wide eyes, just now snapping back to reality. Thoughts had been flooding your mind. Everything that could've happened to Sylus runs around your head all at once. You are terrified of what you might see when he gets here. 'I know it's nerve-wracking to sit here and wait, but you need to eat. We've got a long day ahead of us.' 

'You're right.' Of course he's right. He's always right. You finally take a bite. The food is absolutely delicious as it always is when you let Zayne choose the hotel. For a second he revels in your satisfied expression before turning back to his own meal. 

'How do you want to do this?' 

'Hm?' 

'Do you want to take Sylus along for everything or do you want to chance the schedule?' 

'Let's just keep to the schedule. I really had to fight him on coming here so I think the last thing he would want is to feel like he's keeping me from doing what I want,' you explain to Zayne, who nods along with your words. 

'Sounds like a plan.' He gets up from his seat and you notice he's already done eating. 'If you're okay with it, I'm going make a reservation for a restaurant.' You nod. He's got a point. Most places can usually squeeze in two people but three becomes a crowd. 'Make sure you finish your breakfast. Doctor's orders.' Your lips pull into a smile for the first time today as you nod in agreement once more. 

'Thank you, Zayne. For understanding.' 

'Of course.' He walks off, heading back to the room while you finish munching on your breakfast and staring out the window. Your phone is next to your plate and you've been waiting for Sylus to send an update on his whereabouts. He was texting you very early this morning that he couldn't sleep so that he would just head out so he could be there in the morning. He could be arriving at any moment. 

That's when you hear the rumbling of a motorcycle outside. Excited, you quickly shove your breakfast into your mouth and run towards the lobby where you wait for him to park his bike and head inside. It just takes a few minutes before he come sauntering in wearing his motorcycle gear, his helmet swinging in his hand, saddlebags thrown over his shoulder. You almost have to take a moment to compose yourself. Your man looks so handsome. 

'Sylus,' you call. He looks over and smiles, seemingly shedding all his worries the second he sees you. You run over to him and hug his waist. His free arm wraps around you and you feel his lips on top of your head. 

'Thank you,' he whispers as you feel his body soften underneath your touch. Whatever happened must've shaking him up quite a bit for him to be so tense. You decide against asking about it for now. 

'Come on, let me show you our room.' You take his hand and start dragging him towards the elevators. 

'Our room? I thought you would be sharing a room with Doctor Zayne?' 

'No, Zayne likes his privacy, so we get separate rooms.' 

'I like the sound of that,' he teases, shaking your hand off and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 'And Doctor Zayne is truly alright with all this?' You nod enthusiastically as you press the button to the sixth floor. He smiles ever so slightly and leans down to press a kiss on your lips. 'You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me.' 

'Sylus, you are wonderful. You deserve everything good that comes your way.' 

'You are too kind, sweetie.' The elevator dings at your floor. 

'I am,' you agree. 'Come on, let's drop your stuff off and tell Zayne that you're here.' He stiffens up a little bit again but does let himself be led by you. You notice his hesitation and stop in your tracks. 'Sylus, I don't know what your history is with Zayne but you should know that he takes patient confidentiality very seriously if it has anything to do with that. He hasn't told me anything nor will he ever tell me anything that goes on inside hospital walls.' 

That seems to do it and he follows you inside the room. 'This is nice,' he notes as he drops his things and looks around the room. 

'Oh, you know, maybe get changed first. We're going on a hike in a bit. I'll go tell Zayne you're here.' You almost rush out of the room again but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest like you're light as a feather. His eyes look at you so intensely, so full of love. 

'Let me just hold you for a second.' You give him your consent by wrapping your arms around his waist once more and holding him as close as you physically can while resting your head against his chest. You feel him lean his head on top of yours as his breathing slowly becomes steadier and his heartbeat slows down as he slowly sways with you. 'Thank you.' 

'You already said that.' 

'I know.' 

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The only thing you did not account for when inviting Sylus along is that you are now not on a trip with one tall man, but with two. The hike feels like a run, walking around town feels like a hike, and your neck fucking hurts. But at least your two favorite people are getting along great. 

You groan as the three of you finally sit down at the restaurant. Your legs are tingling from all the walking and running. The two men sit across from each other, and you sit at the head of the small table. Zayne picked a fairly nice restaurant but nothing to intimidating. It's something that you would have picked too. 

'Doctor Zayne, I want to thank you again for letting me come along,' Sylus says as if he hasn't said it at least five times today. Zayne shakes his head with a laugh. 

'Please, just call me Zayne.' 

'Sorry. Hard to get it out of my system.' He looks over at you, sitting there with a self-satisfied grin while looking at them interact. 'You're enjoying yourself.' 

'It's hard not to. My two favorite men get along. That's something to enjoy,' you tell him. He huffs a laugh in response. Zayne chuckles and pats Sylus hand. 

'I'm glad I finally have someone to take her off my hands.' 

'Hey, don't say it like that. I am lovely,' you playfully argue as you gently nudge Zayne's shoulder. Sylus can't help but stare at you with a lovesick look on his face. He just loves watching you, loves seeing you happy, loves you. Despite all of that, there's a stinging in his chest. His situation changed yesterday, which might mean changing the relationship you have with each other. He'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts. 

'It's no trouble,' he replies to Zayne's joke, 'I'd gladly take her off your hands any time.' 

'You two need to stop talking about me like I'm a burden,' you warn with a teasing grin. You quickly notice the mischievous glint in Sylus eyes as he leans his elbows on the table and folds his hands together, pretending to exclude you from the conversation. 

'Say, Zayne, how did you deal with her constantly being at your door?' 

'Excuse me,' you exclaim, pretending to be offended. 

'Oh, I was barely home because of work so she was barely at my door. The texts though,' Zayne goes along with the joke, a small smile playing on his lips. 

'Rude,' you huff. 

'See, the texts I can handle. It's the constant knocking.' 

'I don't knock at your door all the time.' 

'Well, it's your problem now.' 

'You guys are being mean. How about I leave you on your date and I'll go home,' you suggest, keeping up the offended act as you pretend to get up. Sylus quickly grabs your wrist as you are standing and pulls you down far enough to press a quick kiss on your lips. 

'I'd never betray you for some man,' he whispers to you. It's a joke, all of it is still a joke, but the words come out so sincere. You sit back down with a pretend pout and cross your arms. 'Alright, what will it take for you to smile again?' 

'Nothing. I'm never smiling again.' 

'You sure?' You notice his hand inching closer to your stomach. He is going to try and tickle you. 

'Woah, no, stop, don't do it. I'll smile. Look, big smile.' You pull the biggest smile on your face. Zayne chuckles as Sylus grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. 

'I prefer you like this,' he whispers, hoping that Zayne can't hear it. He can and he is truly happy for you and Sylus. He's almost gleaming seeing that you have found someone that truly loves you and that Sylus has found someone to love him unconditionally. It's perfect. 

'Hi, my name is Simone. I'll be your server. Did we know what we want to drink yet?' All three of you look up at the waitress a little dumbfounded. Well, except for Zayne. He's the only one who's been looking over the menu. 

'A bottle of still water for the table please. She'll have a glass of vermentino. What do you want Sylus?' You notice the way the waitress is looking between the two men you are with and then at you. She's very pretty and you trust Sylus, but you really don't feel like seeing him get flirted with all night. While Sylus quickly glances over the menu, you take his hand that was laying on the table. 

'Do you want to share a bottle of wine, Sylus?' He leans towards you so the waitress can't hear your little conversation. 

'Sweetie, you are drunk after three glasses of wine, besides I prefer red,' he says with a grin. Clearly he has noticed the way the waitress was looking at him and your slightly possessive nature. It feels like a whirlpool of mixed emotions in his stomach. He remembers how possessive his ex used to be and he knows you're not like that, at the same time he kind of likes it when you do it. He has to remind himself that it's a completely different situation. 'And I only have eyes for you.' He turns back to the waitress. 'I'll have a glass of the Hacienda Monasterio.' 

'I'm sorry, that wine only goes by the bottle.' 

'Can we take the bottle if we don't finish it?' 

'Yes, but I do have to note it's an expensi-' 

'Then it's not a problem.' You try to glance at the wine list to see the price, but he returns it to the waitress before you can see. 

'Alright, I'll go get those drinks and I'll take your food order when I come back.' The waitress almost turns, but decides she has one more thing to say. 'Also, I saw you get a bit uncomfortable so I feel the need to say this,’ she says as she looks at you with a kind smile, 'I am a lesbian.' 

Zayne almost bursts out in laughter, Sylus puts his hand in front of his mouth to hide his smile, and you just sit there catching flies with your mouth. Zayne pinches your thigh to snap you out of it and you quickly apologize. 'I am so sorry. It's just-' 

'No, no, I get it,' Simone says with a smile, 'he's very attractive, as are you. I was just trying to figure out if you were friends or a polycule.' Sylus can't hold it anymore. He tries to bite down on his teeth to keep his laughter from coming out but it fails terribly, as is Zayne. You don't quite know what to say but you suddenly really like this waitress, and you will be flirting with her to tease Sylus. 

'We are not a polycule. He is my boyfriend and that is my best friend,' you explain. She nods and bites her lip a little. 'Why? Were you hoping there was space for one more.' 

She chuckles, seeing where you're going with your joke. Teasingly, she brushes a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. 'I mean.' The two of you burst out laughing together at the dumbfounded faces of the men at the table. 'Okay, okay, I'm getting those drinks because I might die of laughter if I stay here.' 

'Thank you Simone.' You turn to Sylus, who now looks a little conflicted. 'What?' 

'Are you also into women?' 

'Why do you ask?' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Sylus paid for the whole dinner as a thank you to Zayne for allowing him to come along. Also, he did not want either of you to pay for an expensive bottle of wine he planned to finish at home.  

When you came back to the hotel, you had a long talk about sexuality and boundaries in the bathroom while you shower and he brushes his teeth and does his skincare. Normally, Sylus and you shower together. That's what you have been doing for the past few weeks at least but today feels different. There's a distance between you two that you can't quite put your finger on. You figure it has something to do with what happened to him yesterday, but he won't tell you anything. 

As you sit on the bed dressed in one of Sylus’ shirts that you stole recently, reading your book, you listen to the shower turn off. You wonder if he'll feel comfortable sleeping with you in one bed if he doesn't feel comfortable taking a shower with you. It's almost as if you're meeting him for the first time all over again. 

The words on the page you're reading don't seem to come through in your mind. You keep rereading the same passage, trying to keep your mind on the page. It doesn't help. Thoughts are racing through your mind faster than you can keep up with. Worst case scenarios keep popping up and you have to convince yourself he'd tell you if it came to that. 

Not that it works. He has barely told you anything about his past, nor why he had a panic attack a few months back. It seems he keeps his secrets close to his chest where they can only hurt him, but he should know by now that nothing could make you run away. 

The bathroom door unlocks and Sylus steps out. He's only wearing boxers and is lazily drying his hair with a towel. For a second, he stops in his tracks when he sees you in his shirt and you notice the slightest twitch of his lips into a smile. 

You close your book as he throws the towel in a corner and approaches the bed. The worries you had melt away when he slips under the covers with you and pulls you into him. His arms wrap around you like you're his safety blanket and his head is against your shoulder. You instinctively start scratching his head with your one hand and put the other on his skin as your legs slot between his. 

It takes mere seconds for his breathing to slow down. He must've been exhausted. He did tell you he couldn't sleep last night but he didn't let it be known that he was tired all day. 

'Sylus?' He hums in response, the rumble going through his chest. 'You know there is nothing you could tell me that would scare me away, right?' He doesn't respond, but his arms tighten around you. 'I love you.' 

It's the first time you've said it and you've been scared to do so. The last person you told you loved them thoroughly explained that they didn't love you back, so not hearing him say something right away is nerve-wracking. Sylus looks up at you and presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, pulling you impossibly close as if he wants to absorb you into his very being. 

'I love you too.' 

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[crimsonnsstuff]

Dark thanos x babysitter reader she came to babysit thanos ' little sister. 'Cause his parents believe he's not responsible enough to take care of his little sister. Reader tried to befriend thanos but after finding out he's an active drug addict after overhearing his parents convo. So she started to stay away from him. Doing everything possible to Stay out of his sight. When parents are overseas and reader has to work overnight. That's when the took his chance with her. She tells him off she has a bf but thanos doesn't care. Non Con pls <333

It’s not exactly as you requested, but I’m lazy! <3

You recently got a new babysitting job. You were babysitting Thanos’s little sister. Thanos was a grade above him, but you have never talked to him. You’ve heard other people talk about him, and how he’s a junkie, but you didn’t think that was true. Sure, he was a bit eccentric.

You knock on the door. To your surprise, Thanos opens the door. You haven’t really seen him before. He had a controller in his hands and a set of headphones on. He lifts one of the muffs up. “What?” “Oh, hi. I’m here for my babysitting job” you mutter. He opens the door, letting you in.

He plops down on the couch. “My parents will be out in a sec.” He groans before going back to his game. You nod and stand there awkwardly. Suddenly, his parents come out, suitcase in hands. “Oh, hi dear!” His mom exclaims. “Hi,” you say softly.

“Sorry, we are in a rush. Make sure yun-hee is in bed before 9. No food or drinks before 7” she says. You nod, “okay, sounds good!” You say smiling. They both rush out the door. You turn to Thanos.

“Where’s Yun-hee?” You ask. He lifts one muff off his ear. “Who knows, probably sleeping. All that little shit does is sleep.” He groans, putting the muffin back over his ear and going back to playing his video games. You sigh, sitting down on the couch next to him and scrolling on your phone.

The rest of the day you played with Yun-hee, having pretend tea parties, letting her braid your hair. You woke up in the middle of the night. You look over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 2am. You stand up. You were only wearing a pair of underwear and a T-shirt. You throw on a pair of shorts.

You quietly tip-toe out of the guest room. You walk into the kitchen, flicking the light on. There was Thanos, in nothing but grey sweatpants. You gulp. “What are you doing up?” He asks. “I’m thirsty. “Where are the cups?” “Top left cabinet.”

You open the cabinet, pulling out a glass. You put it under the tap, filling it up with water. You turn back to look at Thanos and see him putting something in his mouth. “What’s that?” You ask. He holds up a ziploc baggy with several different colored pills, shaking it. “That shits not good for you.” “Why do you care? You’re not my damn mom.”

You sigh and turn back, sipping out of your glass. You feel two cold hands on your waist. You flinch and turn around. “What the hell are you doing!?” You ask, bringing your hand up to slap him, but he catches it before you do. “Playin around.” He says.

He grabs your other hand, pinning them both in front of you with one hand. He brings his other hand up and squeezes your breast through your shirt. “Thanos..!” You whisper-yell. “I-I have a boyfriend!” He looks around the room. “I don’t see him anywhere.” He says, smirking.

Your heart drops. Was this really about to happen? Your eyes tear up. He grins and picks you up, setting you on the counter. “For me?” He says, looking down at your thin shorts. You sniffle. “Don’t cry yet.” He growls.

He pulls your shorts down, along with your panties. “You’re already wet. You like this.” He says, quirking a brow. “N-no, I don’t!” “Yes you do.” He says, plunging 2 fingers into your core, making you double over in pain and pleasure.

He starts to thrust that roughly. His fingers dig into your insides, making you whimper. You grip onto his arm, sobbing softly. He smirks and pulls his fingers out, reaching up and wiping them in your face.

He pulls you off the counter, spinning you around and bending you over it. He yanks his sweatpants down. He pumps his cock a few times. He taps it on your clit and you sniffle. He grunts as he slides into you, your pussy squeezing him so tight. You yelp and he slaps your ass. “Shut up, slut. You want this.” He growls.

You start to think about your boyfriend. What would he do if he saw you like this, bent over a counter while getting railed by this purple haired fuck. Thanos wasn’t even moving, but your legs were shaking from how deep he was. You grunt softly as you feel him tearing your pussy up.

He thrusts in and out roughly and you whimper. He grabs your hair and slams your face down into the counter. Your tears fall onto the marble counter, sobs falling past your lips. He grunts, throwing his head back. “You sound so pretty when you’re crying.” He growls, getting off on your sadness.

He grips your hips, pulling you back onto him in time with his thrusts, completely using you for his pleasure. You squirt on his cock and he snorts from how quick you came, but he doesn’t stop thrusting. “For someone who has a boyfriend, you sure love this.” He says.

You shake your head, unable to get words out. He pushes a hand down on your back, forcing you to arch it more. He slaps your ass, leaving a red handprint. “Fuck, this view..”

You leans down, chest pressing against your back. He pulls your hair, giving himself access to your neck. He bites down on it, making you yelp. He pulls back and lick a tear that was falling down your cheek. He leans back, pulling your hands behind you back and thrusting into you harder.

“Gonna ruin you for your boyfriend..” he grunts out, thrusting deeper and faster, stretching you to the limits. “Shit, shit, shit!” He murmers, cumming deep into your pussy. He keeps thrusting, fuckign his cum deeper into you.

He pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants. He pulls your panties and shorts back up. “Let that drip out and I’m gonna fuck your ass until you can’t walk.” He says, walking out of the kitchen.

[hopeful-dawn]

I find it very interesting how incredibly sheltered Shadow is in the movie, not just compared to other versions of his character, but also to the other characters in the SCU. He doesn't talk a lot, so it's not overly obvious, but his flashback scenes were riddled with subtext. He's clearly an amnesiac when he first falls to earth, so he has literally no idea about... most things, and the military certainly wouldn't have seen fit to teach him about them.

Given the way they kept him locked up in a fluid-filled tube - despite him being awake, alert, seemingly uninjured, and still in his clothes -, and his own admission that they all seemed scared of him and thought he was dangerous, Shadow doesn't seem to have been treated like an actual person, much less a child. And given his reaction to Maria when she first interacted with him (i.e. confused and suspicious even after she was very playful and friendly towards him), she likely was the first person to show him actual kindness, too.

Which makes sense! In the games he was created for the express purpose of being able to cure Maria. She was there for him and cared for him from the start, and undoubtedly made sure he was being treated at least moderately well. And she would have had the leverage to do so, because they were on a civilian space colony where her grandfather, who loved her dearly, was the one spearheading the project. In the movies however, Shadow was an extremely powerful extraterrestrial of unspecified origin, with an unknown purpose for coming to Earth. During the Cold War. He was not a beloved creation; he was a potential threat who was being experimented on by the military.

There's no way that before Maria he'd have been given lessons in Earth cultural practices, or allowed to do things like watch movies or listen to music or even just roam freely throughout the base. They didn't trust him enough to. But without any memories of his own he'd have been easy enough to mold to their liking, so they did teach him how to fight, how to shoot a gun, how to ride a motorcycle, and how to harness his power, because they undoubtedly wanted to use him as a secret weapon against the Soviets and as a power source (why else would they keep him in a military base and store a bunch of containers filled with his highly explosive chaos energy? How else would he have learned how to ride a human motorcycle with such skill?). Weapons aren't people though, and potential threats don't get kindness, lest people get attached to them, and neither are taught anything they don't absolutely need to know to perform their functions.

So yeah. Poor kid was kept emotionally isolated and ignorant, until Maria came in and demanded better for him. Too bad that made her a liability to them, one they felt they had to get rid of after they decided that Shadow needed to be shelved until such a time that they could actually control him. Remember, they were aiming to shoot her, specifically. If they wanted to shoot Gerald or Shadow, they'd have done it at any point afterward. So even though it was an explosion that ultimately killed her, she was slated to die regardless. Gerald and Shadow were considered valuable; she was just a loose end who convinced Shadow he was a person and turned his loyalties from them to herself.

(Those kids never stood a chance. Even if they had escaped, they'd have been hunted down by the military, and she'd have been killed then instead while he was taken into custody. Their fates were sealed the second they stepped foot into that base. Shadow never would have been allowed to have a decent childhood, and Maria never could have treated Shadow as anything other than a fellow child and friend.)

And when he was brought out of stasis he had no time or inclination to fix any of that ignorance (because he was convinced he would die, along with the rest of the world). All of which puts him in a very disadvantageous spot by the end of the movie, because he's going to be so lost once he wakes back up on earth.

Does he know how to read in any language or how to do basic arithmetic? Does he know any geography or how to read a map? Does he know any first aid or wilderness survival skills? Since he wasn't created in a lab, does he need to eat and drink, and if so does he know what's safe for him to consume? These are all things he might need to know if he's going to try and survive on his own, and unfortunately he also almost certainly doesn't know how to use a computer or a telephone, which would be his main two ways of getting that kind of information if he can't outright ask anyone.

To take it even further, because of his amnesia, does Shadow even know that he's supposed to be a hedgehog?? Does he know what the chaos emeralds are, or that they're emeralds at all, or why he went god mode upon touching them? Does he know that Sonic survived after he passed out and fell to earth? And also, did literally anyone ever tell him Sonic's name??