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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago

Note

could you do a story where frontman is readers sugar daddy, please and thank you I ❤️ your writing.

Luxury & Lies— Hwang In-ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Being In-ho’s sugar baby came with luxuries beyond your wildest dreams. You never questioned where his wealth came from, only cared about what you could get out of him. But when you stumbled upon the truth, the Squid Game and the power he held as the Front Man, you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. And In-ho? He’d do anything to keep you.

warnings— Sugar daddy!in-ho, manipulation, cunnilingus, body worship, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.

a/n— Thank you and enjoy <3

Youth and beauty on the outside was not eternal, that being said, you were always one to use it to your advantage.

It was by using those assets that caused you to stumble upon Hwang In-ho. He was an older yet very attractive man and obviously very wealthy. You knew how to play the game right and the night you had met In-ho, you were seated in the lounge area of an upscale restaurant that was famous for transactions like this.

He slipped into the seat next to you, decked in an expensive suit and as soon as you flipped your hair and tilted your head, he was sold.

You didn’t have to say much, especially when it came to older men, you let him do the talking, you were just there to look pretty and get what you want. And you got way more than you bargained for being Hwang In-ho’s sugar baby.

In-ho always gave you what you wanted. That was the foundation of your arrangement. You asked, and he delivered—no questions, no hesitations. It started with luxury handbags and designer clothes and shoes, then first class trips and five star hotels, and before you knew it, you had an entire apartment paid for in your name and a collection of jewelry that could make royalty jealous.

Being with In-ho meant being spoiled, but it also meant playing your role. You were his eye candy at every event, the one in his arm in dresses he picked out for you, flashing a smile that made investors and business partners envious. You liked the life you lived, liked the way people looked at you when you walked into a room together.

You never questioned how he could afford it all. What did it matter? You weren’t with him for his morality, you were with him for what he could give you.

But then you found out.

It had been an accident, really. You were in his office at the penthouse, bored and nosy, and you stumbled across a locked drawer in his desk. He always kept things private, but this was different, the secrecy intrigued you. So you looked until you found the key, expecting maybe some business documents or an old affair he never wanted you to know about.

You didn’t expect tapes.

Or the footage of people being slaughtered.

You sat frozen, watching clips from the so called Squid Game, men and women gunned down like animals, the screams piercing even through the speakers of his monitor. And there, in the midst of it all, was him—your sugar daddy, the man who paid for your lifestyle, standing over it all in that black mask.

The Front Man.

The truth settled like ice in your veins, but strangely, you weren’t horrified. You were curious.

For the first time since meeting In-ho, you had leverage.

So, you confronted him.

You remembered the way he looked at you when you brought it up. The sharp inhale. The slight flinch. He had tried to keep you in the dark for a reason, because, deep down, he feared this exact moment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said, voice carefully neutral.

“Yeah?” You folded your arms. “Well, I did.”

A pause. A long, heavy silence. And then, a confession. He admitted everything. How long he had been in charge. What the games really were. The money, the power, the control.

“I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he said eventually, looking down. “I won’t stop you.”

That was the moment you could have walked away. Should have, maybe. But you had no intention of leaving.

Instead, you put on a show, acted like you needed time, like you were shaken and unsure. Let him panic, let him compensate.

And, oh, did he compensate.

A brand new penthouse apartment, yours, fully paid for. A car, your dream model, delivered to your doorstep. Cash in your account, a credit card linked to his bank account. Jewelry, vacations, an all expenses paid trip with your homegirls on his private jet, all while he stayed behind, giving you space.

He only texted you once.

“Let me know when you're ready to talk.”

When you had everything you wanted, you decided it was time.

The night you returned, he was already waiting in your penthouse, standing by the windows with a glass of whiskey.

“You look beautiful,” he said, scanning your outfit like he hadn’t seen you in weeks, which he hadn’t. “Did you have a good trip?”

“It was perfect,” you said, slipping off your coat and letting it drop onto the couch. “Thanks to you.”

He exhaled softly, nodding. “And are you ready to talk?”

“I am,” you said as you walked toward him slowly, heels clicking against the floor.

He tensed. You could see it in the way his fingers curled slightly against the glass, like he was bracing himself for the worst.

“You kept a huge secret from me, In-ho,” you murmured, stopping just inches away. “That’s not something I can just forgive overnight.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry. For all of it.”

“I bet you are.” You reached for his tie, giving it a gentle tug. “But sorry isn’t enough. You have to earn my trust again.”

His breathing hitched. “Anything,” he murmured, voice low. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

You smiled, slow and sultry. “Good,” you said, stepping backward toward the bedroom. “Then follow me.” And just like that, he did.

You led him across the penthouse, never looking back, because you didn’t need to, you could feel his presence behind you, could feel the heat of his stare. By the time you reached the bedroom, you stopped at the edge of the bed, tilting your head just slightly over your shoulder.

He was watching you with hungry, dark eyes, scanning every inch of you. And then, you let yourself fall back against the silk sheets, stretching out, parting your legs to make your point.

His breath came uneven. “You—”

“You said you’d do anything,” you murmured, hooking a leg around his waist and pulling him closer. “Show me.”

Something inside him snapped.

He was on you in seconds, his hands gripping you, lips crashing against yours with a desperation you had never felt from him before. He wasn’t just indulging you—he was proving himself.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly that.

Because at the end of the day, you always got what you wanted.

The second In-ho had you beneath him, it was like something inside him broke loose. His hands were at your clothes in an instant, fabric tearing under his grip as he stripped you naked. The sound of ripping seams filled the air, followed by a sharp gasp from you as cool air met your skin.

“In-ho—”

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes flickering over you like he was soaking up every inch to memory.

His lips were on you before you could respond, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, over your breasts. His lips were everywhere, like he was trying to worship and make it up to you.

Then he was lower, his mouth pressing against your stomach, his hands holding you steady as you squirmed.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, breath catching.

“Look at you,” he groaned. “So perfect. Always so goddamn perfect for me.”

And then, he had you unraveling.

The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy had your back arching, fingers twisting into the sheets as pleasure shot through you like lightning. He moaned against you, gripping your thighs to hold you still, but you couldn’t—not when he was devouring you like this, like he had been starved for you.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against your pussy, pressing a kiss between every stroke of his tongue. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You barely heard him past the pleasure that built and built with every expert movement of his mouth. He was relentless, slow at first, savoring you, but when he felt you tense, when he heard the way you gasped his name, he tightened his grip and ravished you with ferocity that had your legs shaking.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

And when you finally came, when you cried out so loud you swore the whole city could hear, he only held you through it, kissing your thighs, whispering praises against your heated skin.

“You’re a dream,” he breathed, pressing a lingering kiss just below your navel. “So beautiful. So good for me.”

In-ho didn’t stop. Even after you were left trembling beneath him, after your breath was still shaky and your body tingled from the aftershocks, he kept kissing you, soft presses of his lips against your skin.

“You're everything,” he murmured between kisses, trailing from your chest to your lips. “More than I deserve.”

The way you shivered when his fingers brushed your breasts, the way your breath hitched when he pressed a kiss just below your chest. He worshiped you, whispering apologies against your skin.

“Forgive me,” he said, forehead resting against yours. “For everything. For keeping things from you, for being selfish enough to want you despite it all.”

You cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You're not losing me,” you promised softly, and the way his eyes darkened told you he believed you—but he needed to prove himself anyway.

His mouth found yours in a desperate kiss, hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. You felt him—all of him, hard and heavy against your thigh.

Another thing about In-ho? He was the full package. The biggest you’d had, the biggest you probably ever would have, and he knew exactly how to use it.

He smirked at the way you swallowed hard, his hands skimming down your sides, teasing, making you wait.

“You always act like such a brat,” he murmured, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Like you don’t need me.” His hand wrapped around your thigh, pulling you flush against him. “But then I get you like this, and you melt for me.”

“In-ho,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders.

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dragging it out, making you feel every inch of his cock as he slowly pressed against your folds. “Let me take care of you.”

And when he finally gave in, when he finally stopped teasing and claimed you, it was deep, slow, possessive. He worshiped you, murmuring praises against your lips, against your skin. He filled you inch by inch, your pussy quivering around him.

“You're perfect,” he groaned. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your nails dug into his back, legs tightening around him as he pulled you closer, right on his dick. Every slow, deep stroke unraveled you, and he felt everything, the way you clung to him, the way you gasped his name like a prayer.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Give it to me. Cum.”

And when you finally did, when you cried out and your body tensed beneath him, he held you through it, his own breath ragged, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let you go.

He didn’t pull away right away—just kissed you through it, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. Soon, you felt the rush of his cum filling you up and his soft moans in your ear.

“Mine,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re mine.”

In-ho never just left you after. That wasn’t who he was.

No matter how intense things got, no matter how desperate or needy, he always made sure to take care of you after.

Tonight was no different.

He pressed a kiss to your temple before slipping away, only to return moments later with a warm cloth. He handled you carefully, murmuring soft praises as he cleaned you up, whispering apologies when you flinched from sensitivity. His touch was steady, so unlike the man who ran the most brutal game in existence. With you, he was different.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, running a hand down your thigh as he finished.

You nodded sleepily, reaching for him. “Mhm.”

That was all he needed to hear. He tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, shifting until you were resting on his chest, his fingers tracing circles into your skin.

“I’ll prove myself to you every day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be here for you.��

You hummed in response, half asleep against him, but he knew you heard him.

That was something about In-ho, you knew this arrangement was transactional, but there was something deeply intimate in the way he held you after, in the way he needed to keep you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away in the night.

Even now, his grip on you was firm.

“You’re so good to me,” you mumbled, fingertips skimming his jaw.

“You deserve it,” he murmured, eyes half lidded as he looked down at you. “And more.”

He held you like that for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings, pressing lazy kisses to your hair. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but you both knew, no matter how complicated things were, he wasn’t letting you go.

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majestyeverlasting · 3 days ago

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Hello! If you are willing I would like to request a Frankie morales x reader oneshot? 🙃🙃 im obsessed with Frankie x wife reader lately and I was thinking maybe you could write somethin where the reader is pregnant and having cramps / contractions while Frankie is out with his friends and calls him all freaked out but even though it’s just false labour he still rushes home anyway?🥰🥰

(I love your writing btw I hope you accept this request thank you <3)

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

Pairing Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary A night of laughter, love, and quiet devotion reminds you and Frankie how much your world has grown—especially with your baby on the way.

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! This is my first time writing for Frankie, so let me know what you guys think.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Across the living room, the evening news drones so low, the TV might as well not be on at all. Ten minutes ago, Frankie left you alone on the couch to go get ready for a night out. You’d looked up from your book long enough to catch the wink he shot you before disappearing up the staircase.

As easy as it would be for him to stay in, you insisted he go out and enjoy himself. The two of you had finally settled into your new home. Soon enough, the guys were starting to rib him about falling off the face of the earth.

He's getting better at striking a balance these days.

“Alright, hermosa,” he announces as he descends the stairs. “Here’s what I’m working with...”

Frankie walks back into the living room in dark-wash jeans and a sage button down. As you set your book aside, he offers a goofy spin in a lighthearted mockery of what you oftentimes do. You try to restrain your smile, but it shines through anyways. Frankie grins like he’s won a prize, teeth glinting along with the sparkle in his dark eyes.

Everyone said he was trouble when you first met. It didn’t take long to realize they meant the intoxicating kind that disarms a room, draws people in, makes them feel seen. The kind you’d never recover from losing if you let slip away.

A year ago, he got down on one knee and asked you for forever. That was the moment you realized that, in turn, you were the trouble he couldn’t bear to lose.

Before you have the chance to stand, he stalks over to you and leans down to capture your lips in a brief, tender kiss.

You smile when he pulls away to stand back up to his full height, all six feet and broad shoulders. Looking up at him from your seated position feels a little funny, but you can't bring yourself to mind. If for no other reason than the gentle way he pinches your upturned chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Have fun,” you murmur as you blink up at him.

“I will.”

“And be safe.”

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie’s touch falls away, and you stand to wrap your arms around his neck.

You tuck your nose into his shirt as his strong arms encircle your waist. He smooths a large hand up your back before stilling at the nape of your neck to deliver a firm but gentle squeeze. As he starts to pull away, you slip your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp with your nails. It’s been a while since his last haircut, and now the dark strands curl beneath his ears.

Frankie hums a low note of satisfaction. “Not fair.”

“Completely fair,” you lilt.

He chuckles and pulls back enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are soft as he says, “Should be back in a couple hours.”

“I’ll wait up.”

"You don't have to," he says.

"Don't I always?"

He thinks back over the times he's gone out without you, and yeah. You always do.

•••

It's quiet when he arrives back home.

He kicks his boots off at the door and notices a pink sticky note on the wall above the key holder. There's a smiley face and heart drawn on it along with "welcome back!!!" Frankie feels himself smiling as he plucks it off the wall and saunters further into the house.

In the living room, one lamp remains on so he can navigate his way through the otherwise dark space. You've folded the throw blanket. Fluffed and arranged the pillows like you do every night before bed. It’s the little things like that, little signs of life, that he’ll never tire of coming back home to.

When Frankie finally enters the bedroom, he sees your smile in the warm, dim lamplight. You're kneeling on the bed wearing the cutesy black pajama set he likes on you. A breathy chuckle escapes him as he takes you in before his eyes find yours.

He plays off the warmth in his cheeks by holding up the sticky note you had left for him.

You tilt your head with innocent, furrowed brows. “Where’d that come from?”

“Beats me," he plays along as you slide off the bed.

He sets the note on the dresser so he can rest his hands on your waist when you approach. The scent of vanilla evades his senses in the gentlest way.

“Did you have fun?” It’s a genuine question, but his mind goes fuzzy when you smooth your hands from his stomach up to his pecs.

With a distracted nod, his thumbs slip beneath your satin tank top to brush your skin. All he can think about is the gentleness of your touch. The way you begin to toy with the button at the top of his shirt without actually unbuttoning it.

“But not too much fun, right?” you ask. “You’re not too tired, are you?”

You finally pop the first button undone, then the next one, then the next. Revealing more and more of the dusting of hair across his tanned chest.

Rather than answering, he scoops you over his shoulder as you squeak his name.

Eight Months Later

It’s been a while since Frankie laughed this hard. When he’s finally on the verge of catching his breath, Santiago picks up from where Will left off in the story, and that pleasant side ache returns. If he weren't too busy swiping the tear from his eye, he reckons he’d see every head in the bar turned to gawk at the four cackling hyenas. A live country rock band plays as their soundtrack.

Luckily, that isn’t the case. Like them, everybody is lost in their own little worlds. With their own inside jokes and old stories that endure no matter how many times they're told.

“And that’s what your ass gets for trying to show off,” Will concludes. It earns him a prompt elbow to the side from his younger brother, whose cheeks are either flushed from the whiskey or embarrassment.

It had been the story about Benny getting told off by a group of older women during a group trip to Panama. Not in English, but in Spanish. The icing on the cake was that they had been pausing every few words so Santiago could translate for them in real time.

As their amusement begins to settle, they look around at each other and shake their heads. It’s been too long since they’ve gotten together like this. Frankie takes a small swig from his beer and lets his head rest against the wall behind him.

Under the dim lights, with drinks on the table, and surrounded by strangers, it feels as though no time has passed at all.

Benny’s eyes rove over to the recreation room, where people shoot pool and throw darts.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to kick some ass in a game of 501,” he says.

William folds his hands on the table. “We puttin' money up?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Benny scoffs and pulls a face. “I’m leaving here with something.”

“Twenty-five each and the winning team splits the pot?” Santiago proposes. “I call Fish on my team.” He gives Frankie's shoulder a squeeze.

Benny drums a beat on the table. “Let’s do it.”

They’re in the middle of scooting past other patrons when Frankie’s phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He doesn’t expect to see a picture of your face light up the screen. Santiago is the only one in the group who notices.

“Gotta take this,” Frankie tells him, and answers the call as he turns away.

“Hang on one second, honey, I’m getting someplace quiet.”

To make it to the front of the establishment, he shuffles between a small sea of tables filled with people with loose smiles and glowy faces. He holds the door open for a group of young ladies filing inside, which earns him a series of chirpy thank-yous. The giddy energy of the night fades once he’s outside, as if it was all stuffed within the walls of Dave's Bar and Grill. With the patio being around back, only a few people stand smoking out front.

The air is warm. A couple of the parking lot lights flicker. Frankie heads toward one of the benches as he says, “Alright, sweetheart, I’m here.”

A heavy breath is the first thing that greets him from the other end of the line.

“Frankie,” your voice is shaky, and his brow furrows as he takes a seat.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, his voice even softer.

“I’m cramping pretty bad right now.” You take another deep breath. “I think it’s the Braxton Hicks the nurse was telling us about. They’re finally happening.”

He stands from the bench and begins pacing along the curb. “You sure they're the false ones?” he asks. “You know you’re body better than anybody else…”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.” Another sharp ache pulses low in your stomach, and makes you bite back a small whine.

Frankie releases his lower lip from between his teeth as guilt tugs at his chest. “Go lay down, okay?” he says as he fishes his truck keys out of his pocket. “Or run yourself a bath if you can manage. Nurse said that’s supposed to help.”

Shuffling arises on your end. “Okay,” you murmur.

“I’m on my way.”

Tonight, you can’t muster the willpower to tell him to stay out with his friends. Ever since you hit the thirty-four-week mark, you’ve been hyper-aware of every pang, flutter, and gurgle. Even if you were the one feeling the heat, it was easier to walk through the flames with him.

“Drive safe, okay?” you say. “Go the speed limit.”

“I’m always safe.” It’s a white lie, but he was getting much better. Especially now that he was about to have two people looking forward to him arriving home in one piece at the end of the day.

Life is a delicate, fragile, remarkable thing. It’s a fact that solidified all the more the first time you showed him a black-and-white ultrasound and pointed out your little girl.

“I’ll be there soon,” he promises.

Santiago steps outside as he's hanging up, immediately scoping out Frankie.

“Everything alright, man?” He searches Frankie’s gaze. He’s always analyzing and piecing together. People, places, things. Frankie doesn’t have to say anything. “Your wife and baby okay?”

Frankie nods, but there’s worry etched across his face. “Gonna head home to be on the safe side.”

“I’ll let the guys know.” Santiago pulls Frankie into a hug and gives him a few pats on the back. “It was good seeing you tonight.”

“Likewise.”

“Guess it’ll have to be a playdate next time,” Santiago teases.

Frankie cracks a smile.

•••

With the bathroom door cracked, you can hear the familiar shuffling of Frankie entering the house. His keys clink into the bowl shortly before the steps begin to creak under his weight. One purposeful footstep after the next, until he’s filling the doorway with a hand on his hip. But you sit in the bathtub with your eyes closed and your head tipped back. The subtle scent of lavender fills the humid air. You’re only visible from your collarbones up, and your pregnant stomach rises above the bubbly water.

Rather than speaking, he stands there and takes you in with those soft, dark eyes. You’re beautiful where you lay. His gaze is palpable, and opening your eyes to meet it solidifies for him that you’re okay. It's a silent assurance. These moments when you don't need words have only grown in number. Every trace of worry that once existed has dwindled away.

As he takes a small step inside, he tosses his baseball cap onto the sink counter and runs a hand through his hair. Tension melts from his shoulders in real time. Makes him look even taller where he stands.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you say, then note, "Your shoes."

The teasing undertone to your words makes him chuckle. At himself, at the fact that he’d rushed home, despite your warning, with a head full of clamoring thoughts. Thoughts of arriving to you in labor and having to deliver his own child. Or packing you into his truck and needing to pull over and do the very same. There was no middle ground.

He’d dedicated years of his life to working under the most intense pressure, but it was his pregnant wife who’d finally thrown that composure off course.

Yet here you were pointing out the fact that he had tracked his shoes upstairs.

Frankie crouches to untie his boots before kicking them off his feet. He stumbles in the process and has to brace himself on the sink. The smile already budding on your face blooms into a fuller one when he huffs and peeks over at you. When you straighten up, the water sloshes and reveals more of you chest.

A long sigh escapes him as he sits alongside the tub and stretches his long legs out in front of him. That’s when a laugh bubbles up your throat. Despite his best efforts to retrain his own amusement, he can’t help but join in. The two of you sit there laughing in a mix of relief and acceptance of the fact that your worlds have only just begun to change.

A comfortable silence soon settles in the space between you. Frankie gets an almost wistful look about him as he stares straight ahead.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask after a while.

He rests his arm on the side of the tub. “Us,” he answers. “Being parents.”

There’s an understated sense of anticipation in his tone that he still hasn’t been able to put into words. A small hint of apprehension lingers too, but the type that propels as opposed to paralyzes.

You hum as you run a wet hand over your glistening stomach.

“I love you,” he continues softly. “I love her.”

He reaches out to splay his large hand over your stomach. You smile as he continues talking, “Love that I get to do this with you.”

Fondness swells in your chest all the more. Like a third lung set on sustaining you too.

“I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t know how,” you admit.

Without hesitating, Frankie shifts so he’s able to steady your chin and press his lips to yours. You lift a hand to rest the tips of your fingers against his scruffy cheek. Frankie hums when you ghost your tongue along his lower lip, only to pull away like you have something to say. Before you can speak, he presses back in for one more soft peck, then touches his forehead to yours.

You feel yourself smiling. “What I was trying to say,” you start, but Frankie kisses you again because you’re right there, and because he can.

Butterflies erupt all throughout your stomach.

“Go ahead,” he finally coaxes with a small smile, lips brushing yours. “What were you gonna say, hermosa?” There’s a gruff, honeyed quality to his voice that you’re certain is intentional.

“That I love you too,” you whisper.

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all!

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

ALL MASTERLISTS

#frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x pregnant reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales smut

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mingi-s-dimples · 2 days ago

Text

Accidentally Roommates - Yunho

~"Best friend's brother with yunho × reader- where reader has intense crush on her besties brother. She's so flustered whenever around him but never dreams of making it obvious, it would be mortifying. Especially because she's insecure about her appearance and thinks he's way out of her league. You could say shes the nerdy type while hes the this popular, attractive athlete. Not cliche in any way, slow, gut wrenching build. I want just the right amount of angst especially because she sees him with other girls a lot. And then it dips into fluff and sweet smut. Plot twist he ends up living with them for a few months which complicates things and her feelings as she tries to avoid him and not make her crush obvious."

pairing: yunho x fem!reader

genre, 18+, college au

summary: your roommate ends up being no one but your absolutely handsome crush.. and this switch is caused by your bestie, which does you good in the end.

wc: 4.6k

warnings: college au, sweet smut, making love, slight bulge kink, slight size kink, a lot of kissing and making out, reader is kinda insecure about herself, athlete x need typa shit, protected (we cheer in unison), forced proximity, friends to lovers, sweet love, lots of praising, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: heyy sooo this came oit sweeter than expected wusjsujs but my reader wanted it to be sweet smut so I guess it works 🤞🏻 i've never been this gentle in my fics ngl 💀😂 but hey it's a fresh breath of air (an absolute menace and filthy fic with jongho coming next week stay tuned), i hope you like it ml! 💖💖💖

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way!

You knew moving into the dorms for your second year of university would be an adjustment. What you didn’t expect was walking into your new room, suitcase in hand, only to find Yunho standing there, shirtless, with a towel slung over his shoulder.

Your best friend’s brother.

Your secret crush since forever.

And, apparently, your new roommate.

“Oh, hey,” Yunho grinned, running a hand through his damp hair as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Took you long enough.”

You just stood there, staring, struggling to breathe, your brain short-circuiting at the sight of him in your shared space. “W-What are you doing here?” you finally managed to stammer.

Yunho cocked his head, amused. “You mean in my room?”

His room?

Your stomach dropped. There had to be a mistake.

But before you could process, your phone buzzed.

**[Bestie]: Okay, don’t freak out.

[Bestie]: Sooo... I *might* have switched rooms with you.

[Bestie]: I really wanted to live with Alex [her bf] aaaand Yunho didn’t care so—surprise… I guess?**

Surprise.

You wanted to scream.

Your best friend had traded you like a deck of playing cards, leaving you to share a room with her ridiculously hot, athletic, popular older brother—the same one who made your heart race every time he looked at you.

You could barely function around Yunho in casual group settings. How the hell were you supposed to live with him?

“Oh,” you mumbled, still gripping your phone, voice embarrassingly small. “I—uh. I didn’t know.”

Yunho just smiled, so effortlessly relaxed. “Yeah, I figured. She was too scared to tell you in person.”

Of course she was.

He nodded toward your suitcase. “Well, since you’re here, might as well unpack. I don’t bite.”

That was debatable.

Because being near Yunho always felt like standing too close to a flame.

And now, there was no escape.

—

Days turned into weeks, and you slowly fell into a routine. Yunho was surprisingly easy to live with—clean, respectful, easygoing.

But the problem wasn’t Yunho.

The problem was you.

Because you were hopelessly in love with him.

And every single day in this room was pure torture.

You’d sit at your desk, desperately pretending to study, while Yunho lounged on his bed, scrolling through his phone or tossing a baseball between his hands, his stupidly muscular forearms on full display.

Some nights, he’d come back from practice, sweaty and breathless, shaking his damp hair out before stripping off his hoodie like it was nothing.

Like he wasn’t ruining your life.

And then there were the girls.

Because, of course, girls flocked to Yunho.

And why wouldn’t they? He was tall, insanely attractive, the star athlete everyone adored.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t yours to be jealous over.

But it still stung.

Every time you overheard a flirtatious giggle over the phone. Every time you saw him talking to some gorgeous girl in the cafeteria. Every time he left the dorm late at night and came back with his hair messy, lips bitten.

You hated it.

You hated how much you cared.

And worst of all? Yunho noticed.

Yunho wasn’t stupid.

He noticed everything.

How your fingers tensed when he stood too close. How you bit your lip whenever he walked around shirtless after practice. How you refused to meet his gaze whenever another girl’s name popped up on his phone screen.

And Yunho, being Yunho, decided to have fun with it.

"You’re bad at hiding things, you know," he mused one evening, leaning lazily against your desk while you pretended to focus on your laptop.

Your fingers froze on the keyboard. “Hiding what?”

He tilted his head, grinning like he knew a secret.

“You tell me.”

You swallowed, refusing to take the bait. “Go away, Yunho.”

“Why?” he asked, all mock innocence. “Am I distracting you?”

Yes. Painfully.

But you weren’t about to admit that.

So, instead, you rolled your eyes, keeping your attention firmly on your screen. “I have an exam.”

“Right, right,” Yunho nodded, before casually hooking a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his.

Your breath hitched.

His eyes burned into yours,

amusement flickering beneath something darker.

“Then why do you always get so nervous when I’m near?” he murmured.

You opened your mouth—nothing came out.

Because what the hell were you supposed to say to that?*

Yunho let out a low chuckle, thumb barely grazing your skin before he pulled away, pleased with himself.

“See?” he smirked, walking off like it was nothing.

Like he hadn’t just set your entire body on fire.

And that’s when you knew.

He wasn’t just teasing you.

He was waiting.

Waiting for you to finally break.

—

It started as a normal evening.

You sat at your desk, typing away, lost in your usual routine. Glasses perched on your nose, a silk blouse draped over your frame, tiny silk shorts barely covering your thighs. Hair tied in a messy bun.

You didn’t think much of it.

But Yunho did.

Because when you glanced up, you caught him staring.

Not his usual teasing glance.

A real, lingering, dark stare.

Something in his expression shifted.

“Yunho?” you asked cautiously.

He blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Huh?”

“You’re staring.”

His lips curled into something wicked.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, voice lower, rougher.

Your breath hitched.

“What?”

Yunho leaned forward, resting his hands on your desk, invading your space.

“You look good,” he said, tone slow, deliberate.

Your stomach flipped.

His eyes dragged over your frame, slowly, like he was committing every inch to memory.

“I—uh—” You swallowed hard, completely losing your train of thought.

Yunho exhaled sharply, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

And then—he kissed you.

Not a hesitant, testing-the-waters kiss.

A deep, slow, searing kiss.

Like he’d been holding back for too damn long.

Your mind short-circuited. Your body froze before melting into him, his lips coaxing yours apart, the warmth of his hands branding your skin.

Every suppressed feeling, every stolen glance, every bottled-up longing between you—

It all unraveled at once.

And you were helpless to stop it.

The moment Yunho kissed you, the world seemed to tilt.

His lips crashed into yours, warm and desperate, like he had been holding himself back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. His hands found your waist first, fingers pressing into the silk of your blouse like he wanted to memorize the shape of you. Then, his palms roamed—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip, pulling you flush against him until there was no space left between your bodies.

You gasped.

He took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, groaning softly into your mouth as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, gripping your bare thigh.

You shivered.

It was too much.

Too good.

Your heart pounded so violently it hurt. His scent—clean, warm, intoxicating—filled your senses, making your mind foggy as his lips moved against yours, slow but needy, like he was savoring every second.

Like he was starving for you.

But then—the doubt crept in.

Why you?

He could have any girl he wanted. He did have any girl he wanted.

And yet, here he was. With you.

It didn’t make sense.

What if this was just another conquest for him?

What if you were just another girl he’d grow bored of the next morning?

Panic surged through you, and suddenly, you were pulling away.

"Yunho, wait," you gasped, pushing against his chest.

He stilled instantly, panting, eyes dark and glazed over with something deep—but he let you go.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, voice hoarse.

You swallowed hard, hating yourself for what you were about to say.

“This—” You gestured between you two, still breathless. “I just… I don’t know if this is—if I’m—”

Yunho’s brows furrowed. "If you’re what?"

You took a deep breath, looking anywhere but his face.

"I don’t want to be just some girl to you."

Silence.

Yunho’s jaw tensed.

“You think that’s all you are?”

You let out a bitter chuckle, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Come on, Yunho. Look at me." You motioned to yourself—small, shy, nothing like the girls that usually clung to him. "And then look at you."

His lips parted slightly, as if in disbelief.

"You’re…" You hesitated, then sighed. "You’re too handsome. Too popular. Too out of my league."

A muscle in Yunho’s jaw ticked.

He hated that.

Hated that you thought so little of yourself.

Hated that you saw him as something unreachable, when all he had ever wanted was you.

"That’s bullshit." His voice was lower now, tinged with something raw, something that made your stomach twist.

Your breath caught when he stepped closer, his fingers brushing along your jaw, gentle but firm.

“You think I want just anyone?” he murmured. “You think I’d do this with just anyone?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

His thumb traced your cheek, eyes locked onto yours with something so deep, so intense that your knees almost gave out.

“You don’t even realize how fucking beautiful you are, do you?” His voice was soft, yet aching.

Your stomach flipped.

“Yunho—”

He cut you off, tilting your chin up, kissing you again.

And this time, you didn’t resist.

Because you believed him.

Because maybe, just maybe, he had wanted you all along.

When he pulled back from the kiss, Yunho’s fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him. His eyes burned with something deep, something that made your chest feel too tight.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice was softer now, but still rough with restraint.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

"You think you’re out of my league?" He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "God, if only you knew."

His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his touch delicate, reverent.

"I’ve spent so long trying to keep my distance," he admitted. "Telling myself you were off-limits. That I had no right to want you the way I do." His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "But it didn’t matter. I still wanted you."

You blinked up at him, heart racing.

His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper.

"I still want you."

A shiver ran down your spine.

"You don’t even see yourself, do you?" Yunho’s fingers slid into your hair, cupping the back of your head. "You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Every damn time you look at me, I feel like I’m coming apart."

Your stomach twisted, heat creeping up your neck.

"Every guy on campus watches you, you know that?" His grip on you tightened, his breath hot against your skin. "But they don’t get to have you. They never will. Because I’m the one who’s going to have you."

Your breath hitched.

"I don’t want anyone else, sweetheart." His lips brushed against yours, not quite a kiss, but almost. "I only want you."

And this time, when he kissed you, you didn’t pull away.

Because how could you?

The kiss deepened, and this time, you met him with just as much eagerness, fingers threading through his hair as you pressed yourself closer, needing more. His lips molded to yours with a gentle hunger, the kind that made your heart race and your body tremble.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was uneven, and there was a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes were dark, filled with longing, and for the first time, you could feel it—how deeply he desired you.

"God," Yunho murmured, his voice hushed and thick with emotion. "You’re so beautiful… I can’t even begin to describe how much you’ve been driving me crazy." His hands moved to your waist, holding you close, eyes roving over your face, drinking you in.

He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing softly over your skin, before he spoke again, voice low and sincere. "I…I want to make love to you," he said, his gaze searching for yours, his words carrying an intensity that made your breath catch. "But not just because of how you look… it’s because I want to show you how much I love everything about you. Your heart, your mind, your body…"

You felt your cheeks flush, heart beating wildly in your chest. Was he serious? Did he really want that with you?

Yunho smiled softly when he saw the nervousness in your eyes, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently, almost reverently. "I’ve loved your personality from the very first moment I met you," he continued, voice tinged with admiration and something deeper, more possessive. "But when I saw you tonight, with your glasses on, hair in that bun, and wearing that silk set… I swear I’ve never wanted anything more." He ran his thumb along your lip, his touch like fire. "You were so sexy, so… effortlessly beautiful. It’s been driving me wild, wondering if you even realized how incredible you are."

You swallowed hard, the mix of his words and touch leaving you dizzy, your shyness making you hesitant but the desire inside you growing stronger with every second. You knew how vulnerable you were right now, but with him looking at you like that, you couldn’t help but feel desirable in ways you never had before.

"Yes," you whispered shyly, voice barely audible but full of desire, a blush creeping across your cheeks. "I want you, Yunho."

His eyes softened, and a low, appreciative hum left him as he leaned in again, kissing you with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. When he pulled back, he slowly reached up and took the glasses off your face, his gaze lingering on you as though he were savoring every detail.

With a quiet, almost reverent smile, Yunho gently lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

He paused for a moment, forehead resting against yours as he breathed deeply. "You’re mine now," he whispered softly, his hands trailing down your back. "And I’m going to show you just how much I need you."

The soft smile on his lips was gentle but possessive, the way he held you close spoke volumes, and you melted against him, unable to resist. Yunho was everything you had imagined and more—strong, protective, tender—and now, he was yours.

Yunho’s patience had been tested enough. The second he closed the door behind him, he knew he was done. No more restraint. No more slow, teasing build-up. His control was shattered—he wanted you. Now.

He pulled you onto the bed with a swift motion, his hands grasping your waist and lifting you gently, his lips pressing against your neck, murmuring low praises. But as soon as he stood up, his gaze was unwavering as he looked at you, consuming you with his eyes.

You felt small, almost overwhelmed under his intense stare, the hunger in his eyes so palpable that it made your chest tighten. Yunho was towering over you, all power and confidence. His shirt was the first thing to go, discarded carelessly onto the floor as his muscular chest was revealed in the dim golden light of the bedroom.

You were breathless. His presence was intoxicating—his eyes never leaving yours as he took in your every detail. You felt so vulnerable, yet so incredibly desired. Your heart raced as he stood in front of you, almost like he was taking his time, savoring the moment before he finally spoke.

"Can I continue?" Yunho’s voice was a low, husky growl, the kind that made your legs weak and your pulse quicken.

"Y-Yes," you whispered, the simple word barely escaping your lips as you stared up at him, feeling smaller under his gaze.

His smile was feral. "I can’t hold back anymore."

With that, his hands moved with unrestrained urgency, undoing the buttons of your blouse. He pulled the fabric off you, exposing your smooth, glowing skin to him under the dim light. His eyes darkened as they traced every curve of your body, mesmerized by the sight of you.

You shivered at the intensity of his stare, feeling completely exposed in front of him. Yunho leaned down slightly, brushing his lips over your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re so fucking beautiful," he murmured, cursing under his breath as he took in the sight of you.

The silk blouse was discarded, leaving you in nothing but your delicate silk shorts. Yunho’s eyes locked on your lower half, and with a low growl, he removed the shorts, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled them off your legs, revealing your bare skin.

His gaze flicked back to your face, his breath hitching as he took in how vulnerable and perfect you looked, completely at his mercy. His chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took, fighting to maintain control, but it was clear he was already losing the battle.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "You’re killing me."

Yunho quickly discarded his pants, and as he stood there, you saw the bulge in his briefs, straining and growing more impatient by the second. You swallowed hard, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You knew what was coming, and the anticipation made your heart race.

He took a step closer, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in the bed, his dark eyes never leaving yours. "Hey," he said softly, his voice oddly tender despite the urgency in the air, "it’s okay. I’ll take care of you."

And you knew, deep down, that he meant it. Yunho was here to make you feel everything. And more. He wasn’t going to let you go until he had shown you just how much he wanted you.

He climbed over you in the bed and his lips trailed down your neck again, each kiss deliberate, deep, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hands moved with purpose, exploring your skin with a tenderness that contrasted the desperate hunger in his touch. As he kissed you, his hands slid from your waist to your thighs, drawing slow circles that made you gasp softly.

The praise he had showered on you earlier filled your mind, emboldening you, making you feel seen, making you feel wanted. It was a new sensation, the weight of his words settling into your chest, making you feel lighter yet more grounded at the same time. Slowly, your hand moved from his hair to the smooth expanse of his back. The muscles beneath your fingers rippled with each shift he made, making your heart race.

His body felt so close, so perfect against yours, and with newfound boldness, your other hand drifted down, feeling the tautness of his abs as they contracted beneath your touch. Your fingers hovered near his waistband, just over the bulge that was still pressed tightly against the fabric of his briefs. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and before you even realized it, your fingers brushed over his hard cock.

Yunho’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes darkening as he met your gaze. “Mh?” he murmured, curiosity and desire mixed in his voice.

You hesitated for only a moment, but the way he looked at you, with all that intensity, made you forget your doubts. You felt a momentary surge of confidence. Slowly, you moved your hand away and met his gaze, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest as you realized the effect you had on him.

Yunho chuckled softly, a knowing smile curving his lips as he looked down at the way your hand lingered. His fingers moved to your waistband, gently peeling your panties away, his touch reverent. His hands were steady, each movement laced with affection and desire.

Then, with equal care, you slid his briefs off, your breath catching as you glimpsed him fully for the first time. The sight made your pulse race, but his touch was always gentle, always considerate. He reached out, his hand brushing your hair away from your face, a soft smile on his lips as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

Every word felt like a balm to your soul, washing away any doubts, any insecurities. The connection between you both was undeniable, and the tenderness in his voice only made it feel deeper. Yunho leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against yours, eyes closing as he exhaled softly.

“I want to take care of you, to show you just how much you mean to me,” he murmured, his voice low, thick with emotion.

You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest as you nodded, feeling his love surrounding you in ways words could never fully express. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, savoring the moment as if he never wanted it to end.

Yunho’s hands traced the curve of your hips, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire body. His lips brushed against yours, soft and lingering, as if he were memorizing the feel of you. When he pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender, “if you want this as much as I do.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

The word seemed to unravel something in him. His hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist, and he pressed his forehead to yours again, his breath mingling with yours. He murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ll always cherish you.”

With deliberate care, Yunho shifted and took a condom out of his private nightstand. Your eyes widened at the sight of the unopened box of condoms, making you think he'd gotten them just for you. His body aligned with yours right afger he slid it on. His hands guided you gently, his touch reverent as he positioned his cock right between your wet folds. The first brush of contact drew a soft, involuntary moan from your lips, the sound escaping like a secret you hadn’t meant to share. His eyes darkened at the sound, his gaze locking onto yours as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect.”

The air between you was electric, charged with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity. Yunho’s movements were deliberate, each touch designed to make you feel cherished, adored. He thrusted in slowly, his hands steady and reassuring, as if he were handling something infinitely precious.

Yunho’s movements began with a slow rhythm, each thrust measured and tender, as if he were savoring every second of this connection. His hands roamed your body, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, before settling on your hips to guide you gently against him. Your own hands explored the expanse of his back, fingers skimming over the taut muscles that flexed with every movement. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer until his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His breath grew ragged, his voice roughening with each passing moment. “You feel… incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his words breaking into a low groan as he deepened the kiss. The sound of his voice, coarse and filled with need, sent a shiver through you, your body responding with a surge of warmth that made your breath catch.

Your whines escaped in soft, breathy gasps, rising from your chest as the pleasure built within you. Each thrust of his hips sent sparks coursing through your veins, the intensity of the moment overwhelming yet perfect. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered with a kiss, his hands tightening ever so slightly on your hips.

The rhythm between you grew more urgent, yet Yunho never lost that tenderness, his movements still filled with reverence. You could feel the tension coiling within you, your body trembling as you neared the edge. “Yunho,” you whispered shyly, your voice trembling, “I’m… I’m close.”

He groaned softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he nodded. “Me too,” he admitted, his voice strained but gentle. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

His words were all the encouragement you needed. The pleasure crested, crashing over you in waves as your body shuddered beneath his. Your walls clenched around him, drawing a low, guttural curse from his lips. He stilled for a moment, his breath hitching as he fought to hold on, but the sensation was too much. With a final, shuddering thrust, he followed you over the edge, his body trembling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and his cock deep down your cunt.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound the shared rhythm of your breathing. Yunho’s hands gently caressed your back, his touch soothing as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice still rough but filled with warmth. “So amazing.”

Yunho stayed close, his body still draped over yours as his breathing slowly steadied. His hands moved gently, brushing strands of hair from your face before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice warm and tender, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his shoulder. “That was… perfect.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and content, before rolling onto his side and pulling you into his arms. His touch was soothing, his fingers trailing lightly up and down your back as he held you close. “You’re perfect,” he corrected, his voice filled with affection. “I’m just lucky to be here with you.”

You nestled into his chest, savoring the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The world felt quiet, peaceful, as if nothing else mattered but the two of you in this moment. But then, the sharp buzz of your phone on the nightstand shattered the silence.

You groaned, reluctantly reaching for it. “Who could that be?” you muttered, squinting at the screen. It was a text from your best friend, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, what does she want now?”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Your bestie?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Or whatever she is, she did the best thing by moving in with her boyfriend.”

You blinked, turning to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his smirk widening. “Because now I finally get to show you how much I love you without any interruptions.” His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “And trust me, I plan on doing that a lot.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you set your phone back down. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, though the warmth in your chest betrayed how much his words meant to you.

“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling you back into his arms. “But I’m yours.”

You sighed contentedly, resting your head against his chest once more. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was the man holding you, the love in his touch, and the promise of countless moments like this to come.

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the-ghost-of-jason-todd · 2 days ago

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Interesting that you bring that up, because I think it ties into a different Jason post I made once. You don't have to read all of that, the important part is this:

i think thats my favorite thing about the red hood. he pulls people out of the abyss. he never steps entirely out of the shadows himself, but he will extend a hand to someone else, until they can get their own grip and climb past him. he did it with roy and kori, and with the random pyg minion in batman reborn, and with duela dent, and suzie su, and bunker, and ma gunn, and in a way even his own father. he does it all the time, and i love him for that.

That post is in regards to the (eventual) conclusion to the Duela Dent arc, where Jason helps her unjokerfy and go back home. Because it really is a theme we see! I don't think DC did it intentionally, especially since half of these happened during Scott Lobdell's runs and I don't think the man did anything except throw spaghetti at a wall in the hopes that it would stick, but it's become a theme. (....Scott Lobdell also had the Generation Outlaw storyline that he didn't fucking land or conclude in any satisfying way, but that's a rant for a different day).

Anyway, the point is that yeah, in some ways Jason DOES still have to choose. A lot of the storylines he has are with people who do, eventually, decide to be less morally gray. And that's just something he doesn't do. Or, if he somehow did, if he TRULY came back into the light, he would ABSOLUTELY lose the ideological purity that drove him in the UTRH era. I'm not saying it's not possible for someone to stay with him in his moral gray zone or even in his True Villain Zone, but there is actually an interesting tragedy in the fact that no one does, because it kind of highlights the point of his character--which is that he KNOWS BOTH SIDES and he CHOOSES to stay somewhere between them. He wavers sometimes in canon, moves more toward one side or the other, but so far he always returns to that gray zone, consistently, every single time.

Comics are, in a lot of ways, black and white. Questions of morality are almost always framed in what is right and what is wrong. Characters are good or bad. Things are mutually exclusive. I don't think it's impossible to find the balance, but IMO it would be much trickier to make it work, especially in canon. To find that balance and make it truly compelling would need some significant skill. We would need someone who was truly okay to live in that gray zone, but whose values wouldn't turn out to be incompatible (which is often, I think, why he and Rose don't usually work out when they're put together. Rose WOULD be that character, but I just don't think they're sustainable, generally speaking).

With that in mind, I can see why it's usually the Batfam that he returns to in search of family. He doesn't want things that are fleeting. He doesn't want "well, we can put Joker in Arkham until his next breakout", he wants the Joker DEAD. And he really doesn't want the people in his life to give up on him!! He WANTS both. NEEDS it, maybe. Even as far back as UTRH we saw this tension. Jason is holding VERY tightly to his ideals in that comic, and still he all but begs Bruce to join him so that he can have both. His origins will always be most deeply rooted in the Batfam. But maybe that brings a different sort of tension to the question--one having to do with whether a fan wants Jason to keep hold of his history, his roots, and find the permanence that Bruce promised when he took Jason in... or if they want him to give that up and forge a new future with a new family.

Jason really is, IMO, about tension. Not just in the conflict sense, though he does tend to bring tension and conflict to interactions. But thematically, his character and his arcs are filled with themes that constantly pull him in opposing directions. Even the dichotomy of the poverty he faced as a child versus the abundance of living with a millionaire is like that. In a lot of ways, canon tells us that he really just can't have everything he wants. So the question is... what does he have to give up?

i’m starting to realize there are at least two camps of jason todd fans.

there are the ideological campers, who took under the red hood and ran with it. the ones who believe whole-heartedly that jason todd is a character with a moral stance–counter, perhaps, to the man who raised him and the monsters that shaped him, but extant, all the same. these people see jason shucking his ideals in canon and scoff, saying that it is a loss of integrity and a tragedy of what was good characterization.

and then there are the emotional campers. the ones who saw jason todd’s pain, his desire for a family who loved him enough to act as executioner. it wasn’t an ideological purity that drove him–it was the emotional one, the familial one, and these people see jason struggling to mend bridges once burned and cheer him onward. the ones who desperately want to see him shed his lone wolf persona and really, truly, become a part of the family.

in some sense, it ends up being a question of how faithful to the original characterization you want to be. when jason is the villain and often when he’s the outlaw, he is antithetical to batman by nature. he grips his pain and grief in his hands and uses it to act, same as batman, but in a diametrically opposed way. in order to hang onto this, to keep this opposition in place, he cannot have his family. but in order to have his family, to change from what he once became, he cannot have his ideals.

and i think it’s neat, because both of these camps want jay to succeed, you know? but the question lies in whether they want that success to be in ‘cleansing gotham’/‘ridding the world of that which hurt him so no one else can be hurt’, so that he might save the world…

…or if they want it to be just him, reaching out a hand to someone and asking to be lifted up, so that he might save himself.

#liveblogging batfam #meta #jason todd meta #i'm thriving #sorry this doesn't have to be a discussion lol you just made me start thinking #let jason todd be happy!!#but also....... 'happy' looks different to every fan #which i think is the main takeaway #yknow?

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sinnabarmoth · 22 hours ago

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A Pair of Plushies

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: I got this cute interaction playing the claw machine and it just screamed Sylus wanting to make two of MC. AKA, Sylus wants to be a girl dad.

Content warnings: Adult language. Breeding kink. P in v. Porn with feelings. Pregnancy fic. Tooth rotting fluff!

Length: 9500

It is strange how such profound changes in your life can come from the most mundane of instances. You were having a pretty normal day, you had just gotten off of work and were relaxing with your boyfriend at the arcade. Sylus was braving the afternoon to come out and see you. Your schedules were pretty different since he was awake almost exclusively during the night and you worked during the day.

But you were together today and were at one of the claw machines trying to get even more plushies. You had accumulated an impressive collection but there were always more that you wanted. Today you were at the machine giving Sylus directions to help him get the hearty hearts plushie.

The plushie fell into the bin and you clapped happily as he retrieved it and handed it to you.

“Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable!” you said, holding the little heart plushie to your chest.

Sylus shook his head. “Aren’t you tired of seeing something that looks exactly the same?”

“Never! That’s what makes it cute. Just imagine waking up to two little plushies right beside you--” You paused, noticing the way Sylus’s gaze focused. “Why are you suddenly staring at me?”

He smirked. “I’m looking at the mirror behind you. Having two of you wouldn’t be too bad, actually.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking that he had meant that in some salacious way and turned back to the machine. The rest of your afternoon passed, after you left the arcade you stopped by a cafe for drinks and you noticed Sylus was still staring at you much in the same way he was back at the arcade.

You were used to Sylus staring at you but there was something off about it. Usually when he stared it was because he had something dirty on his mind. It usually meant the second you were alone he would be crowding you against the nearest flat surface. But you didn’t get that from him today. He looked almost wistful, a small serene smile on his face.

You gave his leg a tap under the table. “What are you so smiley about?” you asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No. Just thinking about something.” he leaned back in his chair, giving you one more complete glance over and nodded. “Yes. I think that will do very well.”

“What are you talking about? Do I get to know?”

He only smiled. “Remember when you told me to imagine waking up to two of the same plushies every morning?”

“Yeah…I think I see where this is going.” Either this was going to be a sex in front of a mirror request or possibly a desire for more plushies. You had a feeling you knew which one he was referring to though. “And I will say I am open to it.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Really? I only just decided to ask and you’re already on board?”

“It’s not like it’s that big a request. I feel like I’ve done far stranger things, especially with you.” you shrugged.

“Not a big request? And what exactly have you done that is stranger?”

“Well I’m not going to talk about that in a cafe.” you said. “Isn’t this something that should wait to be discussed at home?”

“We can, of course. If that would make you most comfortable.” he was grinning even wider, “There is a lot more to discuss about it that we are going to need to get into.”

“How much more could there possibly be?” He was being very intense about a mirror kink.

“A lot more. Like when you want to start trying, what kind of doctor do you want to go to, how is living arrangements going to work? Are you moving in or were you going to be adamant about keeping your own apartment? Do you want us to get married first--”

“Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!” you held up your hands. “What in the world are you talking about? What does any of that have to do with this?”

Sylus paused, his brow furrowing. “Sweetie, what do you think I’m talking about?”

“I mean, I thought you were talking about--you know--” you leaned in closer, your voice a whisper so not to be overheard by anyone else “having sex in front of a mirror? Two of me. That kind of thing.”

Sylus snorted, his shoulders shaking slightly as he held in a laugh. “What? What’s so funny? What were you actually talking about?”

“Oh my beloved,” he sighed, taking your hand over the table. “When I said two of you I meant a mini-you.”

“A mini-me? Like a doll? Why would you--” it finally dawned on you what he meant. Your face heated as embarrassment flooded in. “Oh. I see. A mini-me.”

“Finally get there, did you?” he cocked his head at you. “So, what do you think?”

“I mean…” you didn’t know how to respond. “Just to make sure I’m not misinterpreting again. You are talking about…”

“Getting you pregnant and starting a family. Yes.” Sylus nodded.

“Got it.”

“Now that you know what I was asking you don’t seemed at all enthused about it.”

“I mean, I don’t know how to respond to that out of the blue. It came on so suddenly and while I would like to be a mother one day I guess I didn’t expect it to get brought up quite like this. Usually when people decide to have kids it’s something they do after they get married. We’ve only been dating for a little over a year now. Are you sure you want to have a kid with me? God forbid we break up one day we’re still going to have an entire person connecting us.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever let us break up.” Sylus said. “I’m afraid you are stuck with me, sweetie.”

“And bold of you to say we’re stuck together when you haven’t put a ring on it.”

“Do you want me to? I will. We can go down to the jewelry store and buy a ring right now. Depending on how big of a ceremony you want we can be married by the end of the day. Then again, if we do get married I’d like to make a spectacle out of it complete with you in a pretty white dress I get to tear off after the reception.”

“Sylus!” you hissed, hiding your face behind your hands. He always talked so brazenly with you about his desires. It flustered you to no end when they were just carnal desires but this sudden need of his to marry and impregnate you was a thousand times worse. You could barely look at him. Everything he said was too open. Too honest. It made you self conscious thinking about how sincere and direct he was being.

“What? Is it embarrassing to love you? Is it embarrassing to let you know exactly what I picture for us? Since meeting you, this has been what I’ve dreamt of one day having. And today, when you mentioned two of something I realized I didn’t want to wait any longer. I want that life with you. Say you want that life with me too.”

“I…I…” everything screamed in you that this was moving too fast. You did love him but marriage? A child? You didn’t even live together and he was proposing things with a much bigger commitment right now!

Sylus could see you fumbling for an answer and sighed, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. “It’s a lot to ask all at once. I see that. Take all the time you need to respond.”

Wow. Okay.

You finished at the cafe and you started making your way back to your apartment with Sylus. The ride back was quiet. You were thinking about a lot. You knew that you definitely loved Sylus and the idea of marrying him and having a family with him one day was something you wanted. His offer didn’t scare you for that reason. You were in this relationship for the long haul. It was the fact that it all just got put out there so quickly.

Usually when girls get proposed to they can sometimes see it coming. Their partner tells them to go get their nails done, they plan a really romantic date out of nowhere, you get to dress up in something super pretty and nice. All of it to make sure the moment is a picturesque as possible. Sylus dropping that he wants to get you pregnant and then basically proposing in the middle of a cafe after you confused his wants for mirror sex was not how you would have ever imagined this happening!

It was a lot to take in. And maybe you should have been more scared by the idea. But the longer you sat with the question you realized you already knew the answer. You wanted to spend your life with Sylus. You wanted to create a life with him, both metaphorically and literally. It was daunting to think about but it didn’t scare you.

You pulled up to your apartment and you invited Sylus up. Once you got inside you kicked off your shoes and pulled Sylus closer, pushing yourself to your toes to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him. He didn’t miss a beat and kissed you back softly.

“Yes.” you said when you pulled back.

“Yes?” he repeated. Eyes searching your face, “Tell me what you are saying yes to, sweetie.” his grip on you got a little tighter.

“I want to marry you.” you smiled brightly, “And I want to start a family with you.”

A small breath of relief left him and he rested his forehead against yours. “You had better mean that.”

“I do.”

“Perfect.” he closed the distance to kiss you. You melted into his embrace as he kissed you over and over. The moment you ran out of breath and pulled back to breathe he was pulling you in again. Your knees were losing their ability to keep you standing and Sylus placed his hands on your ass and hauled you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Care to start trying now?” he asked. You were still standing in the living room but he was waiting to point you towards the bedroom.

“You want to start right now?” you asked, breathless.

“Why not?”

Maybe it was the emotion of the afternoon or maybe you were hormonal but you ended up nodding. “Okay.”

He started turning towards the bedroom. “Say it, sweetie. What do you want?”

Your face heated again. “I want to start a family with you. I want you to put a baby in me, Sylus. And I want to do it now.”

He carried you back to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed. Considering everything you knew about Sylus and past experience in the bedroom you expected something hard and feral. You had just told him to put a baby in you. You thought that he was going to tear your clothes off and bend you into a mating press for the rest of the night. You were surprised when he stepped back and slowly started peeling out of his clothes.

You started to take off your own clothes but Sylus stopped you. “Let me do that, sweetie.” he pulled the shirt off over your head. You watched as he carefully helped strip you out of your clothes, pressing small kisses to each new inch of skin that was revealed.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispered, staring at your naked form. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant. Can’t wait to see you swell up with our kid.” he ran a hand along your stomach. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me today, sweetie. Happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Sylus…” you reached out to cup his face. “I love you. I love you so much.”

He bent closer to kiss you again. “I love you too.”

While maintaining the kiss his hand slid between your legs and started playing with your pussy. He teased your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. He swallowed your moans the moment they left your lips. Instinctually your hips moved up into his touch. He used the heel of his hand to hold your hips down.

“Stay slow, kitten. I want to savor this.” he murmured against your lips.

He pushed a finger into your heat, drawing more sweet moans out of you as he began to help stretch and prepare your body.

Knowing that you were currently having sex with the intention of getting pregnant was surreal. It felt like any other encounter you had but pleasure was not the only goal. You were going to create a life together. A whole new person, one made up of a little of you and a little of him was going to be in the world. And then you just had that new person for the rest of your lives. You’d be parents. You were going to be in charge of raising a kid.

How was raising a kid even going to work with your lives? Sylus was the leader of Onychinus and lived in the N109 zone. He wasn’t going to leave but you also didn’t want your kid to be deprived of Linkon blue skies and a normal life. There was so much more for you to think about that you hadn’t considered.

“I would love to know where your mind has gone when I have a hand between your legs, kitten.” Sylus said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about how we are going to raise this kid once they’re born.” you said.

“We haven’t even attempted to get you pregnant and you’re worrying about that already?” Sylus scoffed. “At least I know you’re not thinking of backing out if you’re thinking about all of that.”

“I can’t help it. I want our kid to have the best life but also a normal one. Do you think they can have that in the N109 zone?” you asked.

“For our child, I’ll make anything possible.” he cupped your cheek. “Now, do you want to start?”

You nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Sylus smiled and kissed you again. He withdrew his hand and lined himself up with your pussy before slowly pushing in. Twin breaths of satisfaction left you as he sunk in. He stayed close to you, his body pressed on top of yours as his hips rolled against yours. It was such an even and steady unhurried pace. You couldn’t believe it took you till now to realize that he wasn’t just having sex with the intention of getting you pregnant, he was making love to you.

He wanted this first act of you two coming together to make a baby to be done with love, not just lust. No matter what interaction past this got you pregnant, this was your first honest attempt and it was done with nothing short of unending love and adoration.

“Can’t wait to get you pregnant,” Sylus panted as he steadily drove into you. “I’m going to lock us away and fuck you every day until I know you’re knocked up. Fuck, I want to put a baby in you. I want to knock you up so damn bad, kitten.” his pace got a little faster as the need for release drew closer.

“Sylus! Please!” your nails scratched into his back. “I want you to. I want you to knock me up. Please!”

“Fuck kitten!” he groaned, biting into your shoulder. “You’re gonna be so damn pretty all big with my kid. Gonna fuck a baby into you and then I’m gonna put another one in you and another. I want to have as many babies with you as I can get!”

Good god above. How many kids did this man expect you to pop out?

“You’re gonna be such a good mom to our kids.” he lathered hot wet kisses along your throat. “And I’m gonna make you my wife. Our whole lives are ahead of us, and we’re gonna spend them together just like this. Happy, in love, and fucking each other senseless.”

“Yes! Please Sylus! I want it! I want it all!” your legs were locked tight around his hips, wanting to keep him as close to you as humanly possible.

“Come for me, sweetie. I want you to come when I get you pregnant.” he pressed a finger to your clit, rubbing it furiously to help get you there.

“Sylus!” you moaned, nails digging into his back as you came. Blinding little white dots danced before your vision as you came. A buzzing warmth vibrated from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. Sylus gave one final thrust into you and stilled as he came inside you, breathing heavily and moaning your name.

You loosened your grip on him and rubbed your hands along his back. “Sylus…” your head was foggy in the aftermath.

“Right here, sweetie.” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “How do you feel?”

You smiled, pulling him down for a proper kiss. “Amazing. I think we actually made a baby today.”

“I hope so.” he touched your stomach. “But, it can never hurt to be thorough.”

“You are insatiable.” you rolled your eyes.

“Only because it is you, beloved.” He pulled out and laid down next to you, one of his hands still resting on your stomach. “I already can’t wait to meet our little one.”

~~~

The next month was filled with nothing but you and Sylus having sex so you could get pregnant. It didn’t really matter that you were sure you had gotten pregnant that first day you started trying, Sylus wanted to make sure your pregnancy was a certainty. He also loved the excuse of locking you up all for himself.

You hadn’t told anyone about your plans yet. No one outside of you and Sylus even knew that you were trying to have a kid. Except maybe Luke and Keiran but that was because Sylus had already set them on the task of baby proofing the mansion. He never said baby proof but suddenly telling the twins to do stuff like sand down table edges to not be sharp and put covers on unused electric outlets was a bit of a tip off.

After a month of constant sex though you decided to go out and buy a pregnancy test. You weren’t feeling any symptoms yet but you were too impatient to find out if it had happened yet or not. You had bought an assortment and took them home. After a long time in the bathroom and what felt like an even longer wait you had the results.

Positive. All of the tests in their own way said the same thing. You were pregnant.

You were pregnant!

Oh god you were pregnant. It was actually happening. It wasn’t just a fun little roleplay in the bedroom. It was real. There was an actual life growing inside of you.

You immediately grabbed your phone to tell Sylus then put it away. This was an in-person announcement. You sped over to the N109 zone as fast as you could and pulled up to the mansion. You knew at this early an hour Sylus would still be asleep but you couldn’t wait.

Luke and Kieran were in the living room moving a bunch of breakable objects to higher shelves. “Hey there, what are you doing here so early? Boss man is still asleep.” they said.

“I know but I have something important to tell him.”

“Oh thank god,” Luke sighed, “Does this mean we can hang out here when you both are here again? We don’t have to keep ourselves busy outside while you’re going at it?”

“I knew you two knew what was going on.”

“It was fairly obvious. Do you think boss man would be having us redecorate like this just for the fun of it?” Kieran said. “Congratulations though.”

“Thanks. But remember, if Sylus asks you two don’t know a damn thing. I told him first, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” they gave little salutes and you skipped down the hall to Sylus’s room.

You opened his door and found him asleep as the twins had said. There was too much excitement in your body. You closed the door behind you and sprinted for the bed, throwing yourself across Sylus’s lap. He woke with a start, automatically grabbing you before realizing that it was you and not any kind of threat. He let out a sigh and rested his head back against the headboard.

“Sweetie, I was sleeping.”

“I know. But I figured you would want to know that I was pregnant as soon as possible.”

His eyes snapped open again, staring at you. “Repeat that for me.”

“I’m pregnant. I took a bunch of tests and they all came up positive.” you took his hand and placed it over your stomach. “We’re having a baby.”

He rolled you under him and kissed you then pulled up your shirt and kissed your stomach. “Sylus!” you laughed, his kiss tickling you slightly.

“It’s actually happening,” he murmured, resting his head on your stomach. “We’re actually going to have a child in a few months.”

“Yep.” you ran your hands through his hair. “I’m a little scared but mostly excited.”

“I cannot wait to meet you, little one.” he spoke to your stomach. “Don’t worry, you have a wonderful mama who’s going to make sure you grow into a healthy baby and daddy is going to be here to make sure she has anything she wants.”

“Anything I want? Really?”

“You’re doing something incredible. Of course I would do anything for you.” he looked up at you. “I just have one favor to ask in return.”

“A bigger favor than grow an entire human?”

“Move in.” he said. “I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Move in with me, please.”

“But what about all my stuff and my apartment? I can’t just break my lease.”

“I’ll take care of your apartment and we have more than enough room for all of your stuff.” Sylus assured you. “What do you say?”

“I mean, it had to happen sometime.” you shrugged with a smile.

And so you moved in with Sylus. He sent the twins to your house to pack up and move your things out. It was strange to just pick up and move but it was also strange to just in an instant decide you were going to become a wife and mother with the leader of Onychinus as your husband and father of your child.

Moving in when you did turned out to be a good move because soon after everything had been moved over the pregnancy symptoms started up in earnest. You were tired, your boobs hurt, you learned morning sickness was something that hit at every hour of the damn day and not just mornings as the name suggested. In a word, it was miserable.

Thankfully Sylus was very attentive to your needs, rubbing your back and making sure you had water to drink after you threw up, making sure you wouldn’t be disturbed whenever you needed a nap, and massaging the aches out of your body. He had told you to go on maternity leave but considering you were only in the first trimester of your pregnancy you didn’t see the need to take off of work just yet. However, you did need to let them know that you were now expecting.

That brought on a lot of questions from your co-workers as to how far along you were and who the father was. At this point everyone kind of knew that you had something going on with Sylus, or they knew him as “Skye” the fruit seller. Some were shocked but others were excited and looked forward to being able to throw you a baby shower.

It was a lot going on. Your body was changing, you moved, everyone at work was looking at you differently now, it felt like a lot to navigate and the stress was tarting to get to you. One day you had called off of work because you were just too damn tired to do anything. Your body ached all over, you woke up crying because you missed hearing birds in the morning, Sylus’s shampoo smell was making you gag, and you had a sudden craving for the most artery clogging cheesy corn dogs you could find.

You were lying in bed, curled in a tight ball quietly sniffling. Sylus had tried to comfort you but you snapped at him and now he was gone. You missed him even if he smelled bad. You wanted him back. You rolled to your other side and stared at the bedroom door. “Sylus?” you called out. “Are you out there?”

The door opened but you were disappointed to see the twins and not Sylus. “Hi, boss man stepped out a while ago to pick something up. He’ll be back soon.”

“He didn’t tell me he was leaving.” you muttered, fresh tears brimming in your eyes. “Why didn’t he tell me? He always tells me when he needs to go.”

“Uh…” the twins looked at each other, not knowing what to do. “Can we get you anything? Boss man told us to get you anything you needed.”

“I want Sylus.” you shimmied under the covers, hiding yourself from view so they couldn’t see you break down.

You could still hear the twins outside talking. “You have to call him.”

“Me? Why do I have to be the one to call him and tell him his baby mama is having an emotional breakdown cause he left?”

“You think I want to do that?”

“Rock paper scissors for it.”

“No. Just call him.”

“You call him!”

“Both of you get the fuck out!” you snapped from under the covers.

“Sorry!” they shut the door and disappeared. You felt a little peck at your head and groaned, rolling away from Mephisto. You had forgotten that damn bird was still here. He landed on your shoulder and pecked you again.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” you tried to swat him away.

“He’s just trying to get your attention, sweetie.” You heard Sylus’s voice. You bolted upright, scaring Mephisto off of you. You looked around but saw no sign of Sylus. That’s when you realized his voice was coming out of Mephisto.

“Mephisto can take calls now?”

“Think of him more like a baby monitor.” Sylus said. “He alerted me that you weren’t doing well and wanted me home. Don’t worry, I’m pulling back up to the house now.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went to pick up some food for my tired and hungry girlfriend.” he said. “Be with you in a second.”

You waited a minute and sure enough Sylus walked in with a large take out bag in his hands. It smelled heavenly. “Miss me?”

You nodded, holding out your arms. He set the food down and collected you in a hug. “Sorry I didn’t mention I was leaving. You didn’t seem keen to see me and I thought I’d be back before you wanted me again.”

“I was fine…” you muttered, embarrassed by how needy you were being.

“It’s fine that you weren’t. I like that you want me around.” he kissed the top of your head. “Do you still want cheesy corn dogs? I bought a lot from that one food truck you love.”

“Oh my god, yes!” you were salivating already.

Sylus handed you the bag full of hot and fresh cheesy corn dogs. You scarfed down three in record time, the cheese and carbs hitting in a way that made you moan as you ate. “Can I eat just these for the rest of my life?”

“Oh, I think you may end up craving something new in a week so we’ll see how long it lasts. But for now you can have whatever it is you want.”

You wiped some of the grease from your mouth. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

“It’s alright.” he bent his head closer. “Is this a better shampoo? I showered again to wash it out.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“You didn’t like the smell of the last one so I got unscented shampoo and used that instead. I also put in an order for some birds that we can keep nearby so you can hear them sing in the mornings like you’re used to.”

“Oh my god, Sylus.” you rolled your eyes. “You didn’t need to buy an entire aviary of birds. You could have just put bird songs as an alarm or something. Buying actual birds to keep in the house is crazy.”

“I like to think they can also keep Mephisto company.” Sylus shrugged. “The house could use some more cheer anyway.”

“My collection of plushies didn’t already do that?”

“This is your home now as well as mine. Whatever you want it to be, we will have it made. Gut the entire house and remake it as your own if you wish. I’ll only ask that I keep the vault as it is now.”

“I’m not gonna gut the entire house.” you leaned against him. “Well, maybe one room. We still need to figure out where we’re going to put the nursery.”

“Ah, I’ve actually already thought of that.” he stood up. “Care to come take a look?”

You took his hand and he led you a little bit down the hall. One of the rooms that you knew had just been a guest room had been cleared out of everything and the walls repainted to a blank white. “I was waiting for you to mention the nursery so you could pick out whatever furniture you wanted to decorate it with. I also didn’t know if you wanted to wait until we knew the gender to go shopping so I’ve been putting it off. But we have this room and it’s not too far from us so we’ll always be close by when they need tending.”

You looked around the blank room, “It’s perfect.”

Soon enough it was time for your first ultrasound. You were excited and a little nervous. This was the first time you were going to actually see your baby. And despite Sylus saying that the doctor’s in the N109 zone were just as good as any Linkon doctor you insisted on going to Linkon for your appointments.

You laid back on the exam bed and rolled up your shirt to expose your stomach. At this point in your pregnancy they said you’d be able to see the baby, hear their heartbeat, but gender would still be a few weeks away. The cold jelly was applied and the technician moved the wand around for a moment before finding the baby.

“And there they are.” the technician turned the screen to you to see. On the screen was a blurry little blob in the shape of a bean. Your baby.

You gripped Sylus’s hand tighter, tears gathering in your eyes. “That’s our baby.” you said breathlessly. “Oh wow, there really is a baby in there.”

“Yes there is.” the technician laughed. “Feels a lot more real now, huh?”

“Yeah.” you let Sylus wipe the tears from your eyes. “Oh wow. I didn’t think I’d get this emotional.”

“It’s perfectly normal, especially for first time moms.” the technician said. “How are we feeling, dad?”

“They’re perfect.” Sylus said.

“About as perfectly healthy as an eight week old bean could be--oh.” the technician paused and moved the wand around some more. “Well then, hello to you too.”

“What? What is it?” you asked.

“Your baby has a roommate in there.” the technician pointed out on the screen. “Baby one, and just over here, baby two.”

“Baby two?” your mouth dropped open. “I’m having twins?”

“Looks like it. Congratulations! Since you are carrying twins there are some more details to go over for multiple fetus pregnancies.”

“Uh huh…” you turned to Sylus. “Twins. We’re having twins.”

Sylus’s smile threatened to split his face in half. “This is amazing.”

“Of course you’re excited, you don’t have to push out two babies at once.” you continued to stare at the screen. “Oh my god.”

After the initial shock wore off the technician found the heartbeat for you and that was when the emotions of the day started to bubble over. You started sobbing hearing those steady little thumps over the monitor. Two strong healthy heartbeats for two tiny little beans. When you looked over at Sylus you saw that he was crying too. You hadn’t expected him to get so emotional over this as well but it was comforting in a way. He was just as excited for this as you, probably more excited honestly.

You got your due date from the doctor and your follow up appointment made and a copy of the ultrasound picture before leaving. In about seven more months you were going to have not one but two babies. Sylus was over the moon. The second you returned home he had put the pictures in a scrapbook he had bought to catalog your pregnancy and happily announced to the twins that they were not going to be the only twins in your life anymore. Luke and Keiran were ecstatic hearing the news that you were having twins and gave you huge hugs.

Time kept moving ever forward and you were growing larger and larger as the babies grew with you. You were officially into the second trimester and you looked it. Carrying twins made what would have already been a big pregnancy belly even bigger. It was also at this time that you learned what exactly you were carrying. You had debated keeping the gender of the babies a surprise but knew you were too impatient for that.

Girls. You were carrying twin baby girls.

“Guess you really are getting a mini-me, huh?” you said when the doctor announced the gender to you.

“Not just a mini-you. A pair of mini-yous.” Sylus said, his smile brighter than the sun as he stared at the screen. “What was it you had said a couple months ago at the arcade? ‘Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable.’ I believe it was.”

“Yeah, I think that was it.” you sighed. “I didn’t think when I said that it would lead to us actually having two little cuties though.”

“Winning that plushie was the best thing that could have happened that day. It led to all this.” he kissed you soundly. “

Sylus had already been a little over protective of you when you were just carrying one baby but now that he knew you were growing twins he was getting to be a little overbearing. He wanted you to rest as much as you could and to just focus on growing the twins but you were getting bored just sitting around all day.

Eventually you were able to convince Sylus to let you go out shopping for furniture for the nursery. He was more than happy to take you to the most expensive baby store in the city and told you to ignore price on everything and just get whatever you wanted. You rolled your eyes but didn’t try to fight him on it. You wanted the best for your babies after all. You certainly weren’t going to say no to a very nice but stupidly expensive recliner to put in the nursery either. You had a feeling you were going to be in it a lot and you wanted it to be as comfy as possible.

It was as you were looking at cradles, debating whether to get connecting ones for the twins or not that you felt something in your stomach. It was strange and you weren’t sure what you felt until it happened again. It was little and fluttery and you realized with a start that the babies were moving! You could feel them moving!

You paused, a hand over your swollen stomach as you let yourself focus on the fluttering inside.

Sylus noticed you stop and immediately concern etched into his face. “Something wrong? Are you feeling sick? Do we need to go home?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” you assured him with an easy smile. “I just felt the babies move for the first time and it caught me off guard.”

“They’re moving?” Sylus gasped, touching a hand to your stomach.

“I don’t know if you can feel them from the outside yet.” you told him. “But they are definitely kicking around a lot in there from what I can feel. It feels really fluttery, like I have actual butterflies in my tummy.”

“Our little butterflies growing in their cocoon.” he said, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Make sure you grow even stronger girls, daddy wants to be able to feel you kick too.”

“Not too strong, I don’t want them bruising my insides or each other.”

“A little sibling rivalry is good but yes, keep in mind not to hurt your mother when you move around my little butterflies.” he said.

You smiled, your eye catching a spinning mobile. The charms on the mobile were colorful butterflies that spun around while a soft lullaby played. “I think I have an idea on what kind of theme to make the nursery now.”

By the end of the week Sylus had the nursery walls painted to resemble a beautiful flowering garden. The furniture you had picked out was being assembled by the twins and arranged around the room per your instructions. You had even gotten the ceiling painted to resemble a brilliant blue sky with fluffy white clouds in various fun shapes. It didn’t matter if the N109 zone wasn’t like Linkon, your kids could have a beautiful blue sky and garden from the comfort of their room.

It was all coming together so perfectly. With each passing day the house was looking more like a home safe for babies to crawl around in and you were one day closer to being parents.

You were lying in beed one evening as you entered your third trimester. Sylus was next to you talking to the twins since they decided to stay awake all evening and not let you get any sleep. Seems they were taking after their father’s nocturnal habits.

“And remember girls, your mother is going to say that I can’t sing but you need to know that she is wrong. I am a perfectly capable singer and she’s just jealous, that’s why she doesn’t take me out to karaoke anymore.”

“Don’t listen to him girls, he is actually tone deaf.”

“Stop contradicting me in front of the children.”

“Stop lying to them then.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are tone deaf though. It’s actually kind of amazing.”

Sylus frowned, whisper conspiratorially with your stomach. “I’m going to let her think she’s won but in truth you two know the truth. Daddy can sing.”

You gave Sylus a nudge with your foot. “Be glad it takes too much energy to sit up so I can’t properly chastise you.”

“If it keeps you here in bed where I know I can keep an eye on you and the kids then I will plenty glad of it.” Sylus scooted back up the bed next to you. “Getting close now, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like I’m about ready to pop. I think if I plug my nose and you blow into my mouth the girls will just pop out of me. Can we test it?”

“I think it’s best to let them pass organically but I can accommodate part of your request.” he leaned forward and kissed you.

“Sylus, can I ask you something?”

“Anything?”

“If my body doesn’t snap back to what it was like from before the twins, will you still think I’m beautiful?”

His brow furrowed. “How dare you think I would think you were less beautiful for anything. I don’t care what your body looks like, kitten. Right now you are the most beautiful I have ever seen you. Your body is swollen with our children. You practically glow from the inside out. And after you have the kids you will still be the most gorgeous woman in all of creation. Never doubt that. In fact,” he whistled to Mephisto and the mechanical bird flew off to grab something out of a drawer and came back to deposit it in Sylus’s hand. “I think now is the perfect time to give you this.”

He held out a small velvet box to you. You opened it to find the most beautiful ring you had ever seen inside. “Is this…?”

“I meant what I said, beloved. You are the most beautiful and amazing woman that has ever been. You fill every day of my life with joy and light and music. From the moment I met you I knew that I wanted you to not only be my wife but the mother of my children. Now that our kids are nearly born I think it is about time I make this official as well.” he took the ring out, “Will you marry me and be my wife?”

“Yes. Of course I will!” you nodded, tears in your eyes.

He slipped the ring on your finger and kissed you again. “You make me the happiest I have ever been every single day.” he murmured against your lips. “After the girls are born we can start wedding planning?”

“You don’t want to get married before they come?” you asked.

“We can, but I’d like it if we could have them in the wedding pictures. Not that I wouldn’t love to see you as a pregnant bride but I think having them dressed as little flower girls would be far cuter. What do you think?”

“I think I like that idea.” you looked down at your stomach. “Hear that girls? After you’re born you get to be flower girls in mommy and daddy’s wedding.”

The girls had finally stopped kicking around for the night so you didn’t get any kind of answer back. But at least you could go to bed now. You looked at the ring on your finger and looked back at Sylus. “I love you, my fiance.”

“Fiance,” he tested the word on his tongue, “I like the sound of that. And in a couple months after the girls are born and we’ve had time to settle into parent life I’ll be able to call you wife.”

“Fiance. Wife. Mother. I’m collecting a lot of new names.”

“That reminds me,” Sylus said, “We still haven’t talked about what we are going to name the twins.”

“Oh fucking hell…”

~~~

Sylus was away. He had a business deal that he needed to go see and no matter how much he tried to get them to do it remotely the seller refused adamantly that it could only be done in person. This was a problem for Sylus in many ways, the first and biggest being that you were now three days past your due date and he was very anxious about being apart from you.

He was about to cancel the whole thing but you had assured him that if the twins hadn’t popped out already the chances they were going to come during the twenty four hours he wasn’t home wasn’t going to happen. So with much nagging from your part, and a little honesty about needing some time alone to relax without his hovering, he left.

That was the first mistake. The second mistake was deciding to take a trip over to Linkon without anyone there to assist you. You were in the supermarket looking at snacks when you felt a powerful and painful cramp that made you drop the bag of chips you were holding.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no no no!” Was that a contraction? Please no! You couldn’t go into labor while Sylus was gone!

Maybe it was just Braxton Hicks contractions. There was no way the babies were coming right after you assured Sylus that there was no way it was going to happen while he was gone. No way!

You tried to bend over and pick up the chips but your belly wouldn’t let you so you just kinda left them there on the ground and grabbed a fresh bag from the shelf. You were standing in the checkout line when another contraction hit, just as intense as the last. Shit!

“Ma’am, are you alright?” the friendly cashier asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. I think.” you breathed through the pain. “But I may be having contractions.”

“Oh dear, do you need us to call an ambulance?”

“No. No, I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you though.” you grabbed your groceries and took them out to the car.

You sat down inside the car and cursed. These were not Braxton Hicks. They were too powerful to be fake. You were actually going into labor. You were going to give birth today. And Sylus wasn’t fucking here!

“Oh he is going to kill me.” you started the car. You were only a short distance from the hospital so it didn’t make sense to call for an ambulance or anything like that.

As you were driving over you got another contraction. The time between them felt like they got a lot shorter. You cursed and hit the call button on the car. “Call Sylus.” you said.

There was a single ring before Sylus picked up. “Hello sweetie, what are--”

“The babies are coming.” you cut him off.

“Are you serious?” his light tone immediately sobered up.

“Yes. I started having contractions and I’m on my way to the hospital now.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now I’ll be there as soon as possible.” you heard someone in the background say something followed by a single gun shot. “Tell Luke and Kieran to get you there safely and--”

“Actually I’m driving myself. I left Luke and Keiran back at the mansion.” you winced.

“You--” he sighed. “Right. Fine. Be careful. I’ll be there soon. Try not to give birth until I get there.”

“I’ll do my best. Sorry for making you leave. If I hadn’t insisted--”

“You thought you had more time before the babies were coming. It’s alright, kitten. I’ll see you soon, I love you.”

“Love you too.” you hung up as you pulled into the hospital.

You were immediately taken back to a room and changed into a hospital gown. Thankfully the doctor said that you were still a ways off from being ready to deliver so Sylus had time to get over but it didn’t make the experience any less frustrating. You were in pain, you were alone, and you were also really hungry but the doctor said you couldn’t have anything other than like ice chips since you were birthing twins.

You were laid up in bed, your water had broken an hour ago and your body was getting steadily closer to being ready to deliver. The doctor had just checked how far you were dilated and you were still not at the ten centimeters you needed to be but you were getting close.

“Girls, you gotta listen to mommy.” you told your stomach, “You have to wait until your dad gets here to come out, alright? Please just hold on until your dad gets here. Please. He’ll be heartbroken if he misses this.”

Just as you were saying that the door to your room burst open and Sylus scanned the room before his eyes landed on you. “It hasn’t happened yet, has it? I didn’t miss it.” he asked.

“No. You’re just in time.” relieved tears started streaming down your face. Sylus came up and kissed you.

“Sorry for taking so long, I got here as fast as I could. Are you alright?”

“Outside of the fact that my body is preparing to push two babies out of my vagina, I’m doing pretty good now that you’re here.” you pressed your sweaty face to his arm. “Can you clean up first though? You’re kinda covered in blood.”

“Shit.” he cursed and went to the bathroom to wash the spatter of blood off of him.

The labor was long and painful but with Sylus by your side it made the pain bearable. You were glad he was so strong considering anyone lesser may have had their hand broken by how hard you were squeezing. It was the greatest joy and relief when the screams of babies filled the air in the delivery room.

“And there they are, two perfectly healthy baby girls.” the doctor and nurses wiped them off and Sylus cut the umbilical cords. Once the babies were clean they handed them off to you. Their cries quieted down in your arms.

“Hi babies,” you sniffed, trying to catch your breath. “You are the most precious things in all of creation.”

“They are absolutely perfect.” Sylus stroked one of their downy heads. Tears were falling from his eyes. You rarely ever saw Sylus cry but the birth of your daughters was a more than worthwhile excuse to let go. You yourself had been crying since you started pushing.

“The new little loves of my life,” Sylus said, bending closer to kiss the babies and you on top of your heads. “You will want for nothing.”

“Don’t go spoiling them rotten already, they literally just came out of me.”

“I can’t help it. They are my little princesses, they deserve to be treated as such.” he turned to you, “And you did such a good job, sweetie. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted, but happy.” you nuzzled your face against one of the twin’s heads. “We’re parents now.”

“That we are. Now we can plan the wedding and get started on having even more kids.”

“For goodness sake, the babies aren’t even an hour old yet and you’re already talking about pumping me full of more? Give me some time to breathe at least.”

“Right. I know.” he sighed, taking one of the twins into his arms. “This has been the best day of my life and all I want is for it to keep going on forever.”

“But now the best part comes, taking them home.”

~~~

The first couple of weeks were the most chaotic with the new babies in the house. The day you brought them home you introduced them to Luke and Kieran who started bawling over them. It was actually really sweet. Sylus had even introduced Mephisto to the babies.

“These two are your number one priority from now on, Mephisto.” he had told the bird. “Watch them like a hawk.”

Mephisto squawked indignantly at being compared to another bird but followed diligently when you took the twins back to the nursery.

One evening you woke up in the middle of the night. Ever since the twins had been born your sleep schedule had been messed up and getting through the entire night in one go was hard. You sat up and noticed that Sylus wasn’t in bed. That wasn’t so strange since he did a lot of business at night but he had said he was refraining from deals and auctions until the babies were a bit older.

So where was he?

You got up and shuffled down the hall. Sure enough, he was in the nursery laid back in the recliner, both the babies fast asleep on his chest.

You waved at him and he gave a small nod of his head to show he saw you. You crept closer, careful not to make any noise. “Were they fussing?” you whispered as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake the girls.

“A little.” he whispered back. “But I sang them a lullaby and they went right back to sleep.”

The fact that Sylus’s tone deaf lullabies actually worked to soothe the girls back to sleep was baffling and infuriating. “You need some help getting them back in the crib?”

“No. They’re fine just like this. I’ll move them back to the crib when I’m sure they’re not going to wake up again.” he said.

“Meaning you just want to stay cuddling with them.”

“Also yes.”

“Well, I’m going to go abc to bed. Don’t stay in here all night, okay?”

“I won’t.” he said but you knew it was a lie. He’d move in here just to be that much closer to them every hour of the day.

~~~

As time passed and the twins grew life evened out. There were many late nights soothing their cries and days spent changing dirty diapers and teaching them how to sit up and crawl. Sylus spent as much time with them as he possibly could. It almost made you jealous seeing how absolutely obsessed he was with your daughters. But seeing him taking care of and playing with them only made your heart swell with affection. He was such a good dad.

Right now Sylus wasn’t around though. Right now, the girls sat with you in your bridal suite, dressed in their little flower girl dresses while you got dressed in your wedding gown.

“So, girls, how do I look?” you turned to the twins who burbled and tugged on their little tulle skirts. “Lyra, Opal, please. Can you look at mommy?” Typical of six month old babies, they continued to ignore you.

“Alright, time for first look with daddy. You girls ready?” you asked the twins. They kinda just looked around, not really understanding anything you were saying but they weren’t fussing or crying so you took it as a win. “Great! Let’s go show him how pretty we all look.”

You placed the twins in the little wagon that had been decorated to match the wedding decor and pulled them behind you out of the suite.

The photographer was going to do your first look first and then bring in the girls. You saw Sylus at the end of the hallway, haloed by afternoon light and wearing a crisp handsome suit. His hands were behind his back, fidgeting slightly as he waited. You could see him tense up when he heard you approaching.

You deliberately slowed your steps just to tease him a little more before tapping his shoulder. He turned around, tears already misting his eyes as he took you in. “You look…breathtaking. I actually get to marry this angelic woman?”

“You look very handsome as well. The suit is crisp.” you smoothed out his tie.

“Can I kiss you or would that ruin your makeup?”

“If it smudges I’ll fix it.” you wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you passionately. You pulled back with wide matching smiles. “You want to see the girls?”

“Yes. Where are our little princesses?” his eyes lighted even more.

You turned around and motioned for the staff to wheel your babies over. “Oh there are the rest of my girls.” Sylus said, stooping down and hoisting either child on his hips. “You look so pretty in your little dresses. My precious little flowers.”

“Look at the little booties they have on. Isn’t that the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” you wiggled one of their feet to their tiny sparkly shoes.

“They look every bit as beautiful and perfect as their mother.” he kissed both their heads. “To think, that after today I not only get to wake up to these two every morning but next to my wife as well.”

You stood there, watching your soon to be husband coo and fawn over your daughters as they giggled and tugged on their father’s expensive new suit. This was everything you had ever dreamt of having. It wasn’t a dream though. It was real. This beautiful life you were living was all yours. You glanced down in the wagon and saw a pair of hearts plushie that you had won at a claw machine over a year ago nestled inside. It had been wore down by the twins in recent months but seeing it, even with its stains and slightly misshapen stuffing filled you with joy.

You looked back at Sylus and the girls. Even all this time later you could remember what brought on this beautiful life. Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable. And you knew it was true.

“Ready to go get married?” you asked Sylus, taking one of the girls from him.

He smiled, taking your free hand. “As ready as I have ever been.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #this is my most self indulgent fic ever!#I literally had to force myself to write an ending and not just let it continue on forever

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claramelooo · 3 days ago

Text

WOVEN FATES (1/???)

Here I aaam! Remembering that the posts will be every Saturday.

So, enjoy it!

*I'm a little drunk rigth now, so, I'm sorry if you find mistakes*

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: A serie of events makes you fall into the good graces of two older women.

Hey! I've a masterlist

Fascination

You wake up to the first rays of sunlight slipping through the gaps in the curtains. Your bedroom is small, just 23 square meters, but it’s the only space in the world you can truly call your own. A study desk pushed against the wall, shelves crammed with books and notebooks filled to the last page, and plants scattered in every corner—ferns, succulents, and a small cactus that stubbornly clings to life even when you forget to water it.

After stretching, you get up and head straight to the window, where your plants greet the day. You talk to them in a soft tone as you mist them, almost as if expecting a reply. “You look beautiful today. I promise I won’t forget you again.”

Lucky, your overly talkative black cat, meows at your feet. He wants nothing but your attention, and you oblige, stroking his head with a tired smile. “Good morning, Lucky. Seems like you’ve got a lot to say, huh?” He meows back, and you laugh.

In the comfortable silence of the morning, your mind drifts, as it often does, to the past. You grew up in the suburbs, in a small house that was always full. Your father did his best to raise you and your five older siblings, but there was a gap that was never filled: your mother. She left when you were just a child, and though no one in the family spoke openly about it, her absence was a constant shadow in your life.

You remember the nights when your older siblings would laugh and argue in the living room, while you, the youngest, hid in a corner with a book or a notebook. Writing was your escape, your way of creating a world where you had control, where mothers didn’t leave and bad things always had a solution.

She left when you were little, leaving behind you, your five older siblings, and a father who never knew how to handle her absence. You remember the nights when the silence of the house was broken by questions no one dared to ask. Why did she leave? Was it us? Was it me?

No matter how hard he tried, your father couldn’t fill the void she left behind. He worked all day, came home exhausted, and did his best to keep the house running, but affection and kind words were never his strong suit.

“You’re strong. You don’t need to cry over this,” he’d say every time tears threatened to spill. Gradually, you learned to swallow your tears and convince yourself that you needed to be strong, even when everything inside you wanted to collapse.

Her absence shaped much of who you are today, though not in a way you like to admit. It’s hard to look in the mirror and not feel... inadequate. You wonder if she left because you weren’t good enough, because you weren’t good enough.

These thoughts are like shadows that appear at the most unexpected times, especially when you try to open up to someone. Intimacy is terrifying. You fear that if people truly know you, they’ll abandon you, just like she did.

In school, this made you shy and reserved. You always felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, unable to fit in. Your siblings tried to shield you from the worst, but they had their own battles to fight.

You were the youngest, the “baby” of the house, and yet you never had the chance to be treated as such. While they laughed and argued, you hid in your room, writing stories that transported you to worlds where mothers didn’t abandon their daughters.

This absence also gave you a fierce determination. You promised yourself that if no one was there to take care of you, then you would take care of yourself. You studied late into the night, devouring books on screenwriting and filmmaking from the public library.

When the college acceptance letter arrived, it felt like the world had paused for a moment. You’d made it. The first in your family to set foot on a university campus. Despite the pride, the insecurity is always there, lurking. The fear of not being good enough, of failing, of being discarded. You work hard because you feel you have something to prove, even if no one asked you to.

The sound of the bell above the door announces another day of work at the small café. You walk in, adjusting your apron with a resigned sigh. The air smells comforting, like fresh coffee, but the weight of the shift ahead is always present. You do everything there: serve tables, clean counters, even organize the stock. Your boss is an unpleasant man, known for his sexist jokes and invasive behavior. But you need the money, so you swallow your anger and keep going.

América, your coworker, is the opposite of you. Rebellious and fearless, she confronts the boss without hesitation, even knowing it could cost her the job. You make an unlikely team, but somehow it works.

As you wipe down the counter, you hear the sharp click of heels echoing through the café. The sound has a weight to it, cutting through the usual hum of the room. A barely perceptible pause spreads through the space, as if the air itself had been suspended for a second. It’s not just curiosity—it’s reverence.

Your gaze lifts almost instinctively, and it’s impossible not to notice the woman who just walked in. Tall, with perfectly styled dark hair and a black blazer that looks tailor-made, she exudes power. But it’s more than that. There’s something in the way her eyes sweep the room—a sharp coldness, as if she could dissect everyone there with just a glance. And people notice her. Some whisper her name, others try not to stare too long.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem intimidated. But when her eyes finally land on you, it’s as if the world around you has disappeared. She doesn’t look away, and the intensity of that moment makes your stomach churn. For a split second, it feels like she knows exactly who you are—all your fears, insecurities, and dreams laid bare before her.

Summoning what little courage you have left, you adjust your apron and force a smile you’ve practiced hundreds of times. “Good morning, what can I get for you today?” Your voice sounds calm, but your heart is racing.

The woman continues to stare at you, silent. Her dark eyes analyze every detail: the slightly worn apron, your hands gripping the notepad too tightly, even the stray strand of hair that escaped your bun. It’s unsettling, as if she’s assessing every tiny aspect of your existence.

“A caramel latte... and a black coffee. No sugar. To go.” Her voice finally breaks the silence. It’s low, gravelly, like distant thunder, and carries a strange familiarity—as if she’s used to being obeyed without question.

You nod, trying to stay professional. But as you prepare the orders, you feel her eyes on you, watching every move. The weight of her gaze is almost unbearable, like a test you didn’t know you were being forced to take. Your hands start to tremble, and an anxious heat spreads through your body. The feeling of being judged grows.

When you turn to hand over the drinks, the tension in your muscles is so tight that your hands falter. Before you realize it, the hot coffee cup slips, spilling the brown liquid all over the woman’s immaculate white blouse. The sound of the cup hitting the counter is muffled by the low, controlled sound of frustration that escapes her lips—not a scream, but a deep, restrained noise.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, your voice trembling. Grabbing napkins in a panic, you lean in to clean up the mess but freeze when you see the stain spreading across the expensive fabric.

The murmur in the café grows louder. Someone lets out an audible sigh, while another mutters something about “the mighty Rio” being treated so carelessly. The name hangs in the air, and only then does it fully hit you.

You knew she seemed powerful, but you hadn’t realized you were standing in front of Rio Vidal—one of the world’s most renowned visual artists. Like her wife, Agatha Harkness, she’s an icon. Together, they’re one of the few openly gay couples to dominate and be celebrated by the industry. Her fame precedes her, and now you’ve just spilled coffee on her.

The woman doesn’t say anything immediately, but her eyes—once analytical—now seem to pierce through you. There’s something terrifyingly calm about the way she looks at you, as if she’s deciding how much of a reaction you’re worth.

Before you can stammer out more apologies, your boss’s voice cuts through the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouts, his anger exploding. “How can you be so clumsy? A client of this caliber, and you do this?! I should fire you right now!”

The embarrassment spreads through you like the coffee on her blouse. Your eyes well up as you try to explain, but the words won’t come. All you can do is look at the woman, hoping she’ll say something—anything.

She, however, doesn’t even glance at your boss. Her eyes remain fixed on you, as if he doesn’t exist. Finally, she breaks the silence with a low, sharp voice: “That really isn’t necessary.”

Your boss stammers, surprised. “But, ma’am, she—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Her gaze silences him, and for the first time, you see a man who thrives on authority shrink back.

You try to catch your breath, your face burning with shame. With a thread of courage, you murmur, “Please, come with me. I—I can fix this.” Your voice falters, but there’s something in your insistence that makes her tilt her head slightly, as if weighing your determination before nodding.

In the restroom, the silence between you is heavy but not empty. You grab the spare blouse you always carry and try to gather your thoughts, but when you turn around, the air seems to leave your lungs.

The woman unbuttons her blazer with precise movements, and when she removes the stained shirt, she reveals a black silk blouse so delicate that the light highlights the curves of her collarbone and the edges of her lace bra.

Your gaze involuntarily drifts to her shoulder, where the skin reddened by the coffee looks almost fragile. The sight is intimate in a way you weren’t prepared for, and your face burns.

“I... I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have...” you begin, but your voice falters. Your mind is torn between the embarrassment of the accident and the hypnotic presence of her, which seems to fill the small space of the restroom.

“Do you always get this nervous?” Her question is unexpected, her voice low and laden with something you can’t decipher. It’s almost a challenge, a test, and her gaze remains fixed on you, as if expecting more than a simple answer.

“I... I don’t know. Maybe?” You look away, shrinking slightly as you hand her the clean blouse. It’s cheap fabric but carries the faint scent of your homemade perfume. When her fingers brush against yours as she takes it, a shiver runs down your skin, quick and unexpected.

She puts on the blouse slowly, unhurried, and her words follow like an echo: “You shouldn’t apologize so much. Especially when you don’t know what for.” The statement is intriguing, almost disconcerting. Your heart races, as if you’ve just stumbled upon something you don’t fully understand.

Before she leaves, you blurt out, the words tumbling out in one breath: “Please... let me wash your blouse. I want... I need to make it up to you.”

She pauses at the door and turns, her eyes locking onto yours once more. There’s something different now, a genuine interest, almost calculated.

Without a word, she pulls a black card from her pocket, elegant and scented with a faint woody aroma. “When it’s ready, come to this address.” Her voice is low but layered with meaning you can’t interpret.

She leaves before you can respond, her posture impeccable and her steps controlled, as if every movement were rehearsed. You’re left alone in the restroom, holding the card that feels heavier than it should.

Rio Vidal.

The name echoes in your mind. A short, strong name, as enigmatic as she is. And for some reason you can’t explain, you feel like you’ve just opened a door to something that will change your life in ways even the worst coffee spills couldn’t predict.

A few minutes later, you gather enough courage to leave the restroom. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, as if trying to remind you of the disaster that just happened.

You find your boss standing near the counter, wearing the same disdainful look that always makes your skin crawl. But something is different today. He doesn’t explode into shouts as you expected.

“Rio Vidal. The Rio Vidal—” He crosses his arms and sighs, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say, “—said it was fine. And she was very clear that you shouldn’t be punished.”

You blink, confused. The black card in your hand feels heavier now. Why would she do that? Was it pity? Some kind of veiled charity because of your desperation? Or... something more?

The woody scent of the card wafts up to you, a tangible reminder of the woman who, even with coffee spilled on her expensive blouse, had remained impassive and enigmatic.

“Get back to work before I change my mind,” your boss grumbles, but his tone has lost its usual edge. You don’t argue, just tuck the card into your pocket, still feeling every embossed letter like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

[...]

You practically run to the university. Your legs ache, but it doesn’t matter because today is important. When you finally reach the worn-down building that houses the film department, you can barely catch your breath. The room is packed with anxious students, and excited whispers fill the air.

“You’re almost late!” Darcy whispers, pushing a notebook aside to make room for you. Her eyes are wide, nervous. “Agatha Harkness is already here.”

Her name makes your heart race, in a completely different way from the panic you felt before.

Agatha Harkness.

The legend. The queen. The woman who made actors cry on set and screenwriters question if they were good enough to write even a single line of dialogue. She was a monster… but undeniably a genius. Everything that came from her hands was masterful, and you secretly harbored an absurd admiration for her.

Peter, sitting in front of you, whispers to Darcy, “Do you think she’s going to rip someone’s heart out today? She did that the last time she visited a university…”

Darcy, next to him, makes a face. “On the first day?”

“Without a doubt,” Peter replies, shrugging.

Before you can respond, the door swings open. The sound of her heels is the first thing that fills the sudden silence. And then she enters.

Agatha is everything you imagined and more. Tall, dressed in an impeccable purple suit that seems to radiate authority, with a smile that borders on cruel and eyes that scan the room as if evaluating every soul present. Her presence is a punch to the stomach, yet at the same time, something in you feels magnetized by her. It’s impossible to look away.

She wastes no time with warm introductions. Instead, she tosses a stack of papers onto the desk and begins speaking. Her voice is deep, firm, and filled with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.

“Writing is an act of courage. And from what I’ve heard, many of you have been content with mediocrity.”

The students exchange nervous glances. Darcy practically sinks into her chair beside you. You, on the other hand, feel your heart race even more. There’s something hypnotic about the way she speaks, as if every word is carefully sharpened to cut.

“Now, here’s what you’re going to do.” Agatha steps up to the blackboard and writes something with an elegant pen. “Write a scene. Any scene. But make it something worth reading. Because if I think you’re wasting my time…” She lifts her gaze, and the silence that follows is more threatening than any word. “—your nonexistent careers won’t even start.”

Agatha picks up the first stack of papers and starts reading in silence, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side. The room is absolutely silent, so quiet that the sound of students breathing feels deafening.

After a few seconds, she lets out an almost exasperated sigh and lifts a paper, holding it up as if it were evidence of a terrible crime.

“Who wrote this?”

A girl in the back of the room timidly raises her hand, almost regretting existing.

Agatha narrows her eyes at the paper, then at the girl. “Is this a love story?”

The girl shakes her head, mumbling something about the plot being deeper than it seemed.

“No. It’s not.” Agatha cuts in, her voice as cold as steel. “This is a cheap fanfic disguised as a script. Characters with no substance, dialogues recycled from a teen drama. Where is the humanity? Where is the real conflict? This isn’t writing. This is a murder of art.”

The girl seems to shrink into her seat.

Agatha tosses the paper onto the desk and picks up the next one. This time, she doesn’t read for long before looking up. “Who thinks it’s acceptable to start a scene with ‘Once upon a time’ in an academic assignment? Are you trying to sell an idea or put a child to sleep?”

A boy in the front row tries to justify his choice, but Agatha raises a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not here to hear excuses. I’m here to see talent. And so far, I’ve seen nothing worth my time.”

The silence in the room is palpable. You see Darcy whisper something to Peter, probably something like “Yeah, definitely heartless,” but you can’t focus. Your own script is in your hands, and the weight of the paper feels like lead.

Finally, your turn comes. With trembling hands, you hand the sheet to Agatha Harkness, feeling as if you’re handing over a piece of yourself. She takes the paper with an almost deliberate calm, and for a moment, you’re sure she’s going to toss it onto the “failures” pile without even looking.

But then, something in the title seems to catch her attention. Her eyes, previously indifferent, narrow slightly, and she begins to read.

Seconds turn into eternities as you watch her. The room around you fades away; all you can hear is the sound of your own heart pounding against your ribs. Your mind drifts back, inevitably, to the moment you wrote those words—the weight of the story, the piece of your soul you decided to share.

Agatha turns the page. Once, then again. Her silence is like a knife. You don’t know if this is good or bad.

When she finally finishes, she places the paper on the desk. Unlike the others, she doesn’t discard it immediately, but she also doesn’t show approval. Her eyes lock onto you, assessing, and there’s something new in her expression: a trace of curiosity.

“Interesting.” Her tone is neutral, but there’s something hidden in it—a hint of intrigue, perhaps? She leans forward slightly, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to tell a personal story?”

Your face burns instantly, and you feel the weight of all the eyes around you. Still, you find the strength to nod in confirmation, even as shame nearly swallows you whole.

“Hmm.” Agatha raises an eyebrow, pressing her lips into a thoughtful line. “You have no technique. No structure. The writing is messy, almost amateurish.”

Her words cut deep, and you bite your lip hard to keep the bile from rising in your throat.

“But…” She pauses, looking at the paper with unsettling intensity. “You have—” then, she focuses on you, and seeing those ocean-blue eyes so close makes your body tremble. “—something.”

Her choice of words is as vague as it is provocative, and you feel the weight of that “something” hanging in the air between you. She narrows her eyes, as if trying to figure out exactly what it was in the text that caught her—or in you.

“Stay after the bell rings.”

Her voice is final, like a sentence, but there’s no hostility. She dismisses you with a slight wave of her hand, and you feel a mixture of relief and anxiety as you return to your seat.

While the others hand in their scripts, you remain restless, trying to decipher Agatha’s expression and the reason behind her words. What in your text could have caught her attention? The room around you is filled with muffled murmurs, but in your mind, it’s as if you’re trapped in a storm.

As soon as the bell rings, only three people remain in the room besides you. The silence is dense, heavy with expectation, as Agatha moves with the same deliberate calm as before.

Of course, she already knows exactly what she’s doing. This special, hand-picked mentorship was clearly a strategy to appear more "kind" to the public, even though, so far, there had been nothing friendly about her approach.

You watch as she begins the individual feedbacks, calling Darcy first. The girl in front of you seems to be caught between hope and terror but agrees to step forward. As Agatha starts speaking to her, you try to distract yourself, but you can’t stop your eyes from wandering back to the director.

She is... magnetic. Even as she crushes Darcy’s creative dreams with precise, cutting words, there’s something about her that simply demands attention. And then it happens.

For a moment—or perhaps for all eternity—her blue eyes meet yours.

Your throat goes dry instantly. It’s impossible to interpret what’s in that gaze, but it hits you hard. Curiosity? Judgment? Or something else? You try to look away, but it’s as if you’re trapped. She stares at you for only a few seconds before returning to her conversation with Darcy, as if nothing had happened. But you know it did.

Your heart pounds so loudly it feels like it echoes in the empty room. Nervousness is consuming you, but there’s something else, a sensation you weren’t expecting. A tightness in your stomach.

Desire? Nervousness? Anxiety?

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take a deep breath and organize your thoughts, but it only makes things worse. It feels like she has pulled a piece of the air around you away with just that look.

Time moves slowly. Agatha finishes Darcy’s feedback, moving on to the next student. And then, when your turn finally comes, you don’t know if you’re ready—or if you ever would be.

She calls your name firmly, and you stand up. Your legs feel weak as you walk toward her, carrying the weight of her expectation and your own desire to impress her.

“So,” she begins, crossing her arms, her sharp gaze settling on you. “Let’s talk about what you wrote.”

As soon as you sit before her, Agatha picks up your sheet of paper, holding it carefully, as if she were carrying something precious—or something dangerous. She doesn’t say anything right away, just fixes her eyes on the text for a few seconds before beginning to read again, this time out loud:

"One day, I had a dream about my mother. She was married to the man she truly loved, and without children. There, I had never seen her so happy."

Her voice is deep, but it carries a softness you didn’t expect. It’s as if she’s savoring each word, analyzing every nuance.

When she finishes, Agatha places the paper on the table with a controlled gesture and looks directly at you. The silence that follows seems to last an eternity.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of that gaze, as if she could see every secret you tried to hide.

“Is your mother the main character here?” The question is direct, blunt—like everything about her.

You feel your face heat up, looking away. “I... maybe?” you murmur, the words hesitant.

“No need to lie,” she interrupts, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The text screams it. Every line, every word choice… it’s as if you were exorcizing a ghost. Tell me, is that what you tried to do? Exorcize the guilt of loving and hating at the same time?”

The brutality of the question leaves you speechless. You shift in your chair, uncomfortable, but she doesn’t seem inclined to ease the tension.

“Did she leave you?” Agatha presses, her eyes locked onto yours, as if she could pull the truth out of you by force.

You hesitate but finally let out a shaky sigh. “Yes.”

For a moment, her face seems to change. Something in her gaze softens, but only for a fraction of a second before she composes herself again.

“And yet, you chose not to hate her.” She tilts her head, as if studying a particularly intriguing piece of art. “That is… rare.”

“I think that… she did what she thought was best for her,” you reply, your voice almost a whisper. “I don’t blame her for seeking happiness, even if it hurt me.”

Agatha remains silent for a few moments, as if processing something. There was something in the text—or maybe in the way you spoke—that seemed to touch an old wound in her. A shadow passes over her face, but she quickly pushes it away, replacing it with a neutral expression.

“You have talent,” she declares, breaking the silence. “Still raw, but it’s genuine. And, more importantly, you have courage. The kind of courage I’m looking for.”

You blink, confused. “Looking for?”

Agatha leans forward, her eyes gleaming with dangerous intensity. “I’m assembling a team for my next project. I need minds that think like yours—that see beyond the surface and aren’t afraid to explore the shadows. Would you be interested?”

Your heart races. Working with Agatha Harkness? The woman you admired, even feared? It was more than you could have imagined, but the answer was obvious.

“Yes,” you respond quickly, barely able to contain the excitement in your voice.

Agatha smiles, and the gesture is as enigmatic as the rest of her. “Good. Get ready, little gem. I’m going to shape you piece by piece," The way she spoke was hypnotic, pulling you in. “and it will be… painful.”

As soon as you answer affirmatively, Agatha pulls something from the pocket of her purple blazer: a business card. It’s blue, with purple lettering in an elegant cursive font. The floral scent of the paper fills the air as she slides the card across the table toward you.

“Come to this address tomorrow,” she says, her voice firm but low, as if each word were chosen with care. “Seven at night. And don’t be late.”

You take the card with trembling fingers, its weight feeling heavier than it should. The moment you touch it, a wave of déjà vu washes over you. The texture, the scent, even the sophistication of the design remind you of the card Rio gave you earlier.

Two women so different, and yet… so similar. Both had a presence that seemed to capture the room, leaving you breathless. Both seemed to see through you, as if they could decipher your deepest thoughts with a single look.

You feel your heart speed up, confusion mixing with excitement. Why had these women, so powerful and enigmatic, captivated you so much? Rio had left something in you—a sense of unresolved mystery. Now, Agatha was doing the same, but in an even more intense way.

“Something wrong?” Agatha’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

“N-no,” you reply quickly, slipping the card into your backpack. “I’ll be there.”

She only tilts her head, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning and leaving the room. Her silhouette disappears through the door, but the weight of her presence still lingers—heavy, inescapable.

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, a single question echoes in your mind: What the hell were you getting yourself into?

And more importantly, why couldn’t you stop feeling excited about it?

~*~

Y/n... How lucky you are, huh?

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

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menagerofmischief · 3 days ago

Text

nsfw alphabet -> nr6

masterlist

nsfw alphabet (a-z) / 18+

nico rosberg x fem!reader

an: this one was a requested a while ago, I never pass up a chance to write for my favorite diva.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Nico is someone who values intimacy a lot and he takes aftercare absolutely seriously, he's doing the full experience every time. Bringing you water, snacks, drawing you a bath or taking a shower together and ending up wrapped in blankets with your favorite show playing.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

His favorite body part of yours are absolutely your thighs, no matter the size he adores them. Will be touching, gripping or stroking at any opportunity, even during public dinners.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Like I said, he values intimacy a lot so he absolutely goes feral for coming in you. It's the best for him, no need to pull out and it makes him feel even closer to you so it's his go to. If you ask him to cum on any part of your body, boobs, face, ass, back, you name it he'll do it but if you leave it up to him, it's going inside.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He knows you'd never let him live it down so he doesn't mention it but he has a very secret very special sex playlist of Britney Spears songs which he'd love to play while fucking you.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He has enough experience to know what he's doing and is down for learning about every little thing that feels good for you. Hasn't been around plenty but he's a good learner.

F= Favorite position

He mostly prefers positions where he can look at your face because he loves the look on your face when you're close to orgasm. Also likes doggy in front of a mirror.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He can go either way depending on the mood. Sometimes it's all very lighthearted and you're both giggling other times it's full on deep in the moment and passionate.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

For himself, he keeps it neatly trimmed because he finds that's what works best for him - for you, he's fine with whatever you're the most comfortable with.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Most of the time he's really romantic and into it, gazing into your eyes and everything. But he can absolutely go filthy and rough if he's has a bad day or something (Lewis) annoyed him much.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Does it occasionally, especially if he's really pent up but doesn't like doing it alone. If he's away and you couldn't come he's video call you so you can both get off together.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

He likes mirror sex, and is a fan of foreplay. Otherwise he isn't really specific about his kinks and is open to trying pretty much anything at least once.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He prefers the bedroom but as long as it's a closed space with walls and not too public, he's down to go.

M= Motivation (what gets them going)

He doesn't need a lot to be able to go really, and anything you do that's even remotely suggestive had him ready and needy.

N= No (something they won't do)

Anything that actually hurts you in a definite no. Some roughness is okay to a certain extent but when it feels more like pain and less like pleasure it's an absolute no go for him.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Lives for giving you head, and has worked hard to perfect his technique, finding all your sensitive spots and trying to see how fast he can make you fall apart. Really does it for his own enjoyment, seeing as he gets completely lost in it. Would be happy to drown in your pussy.

P= Pace (do they prefer it slow or fast)

Somewhere in the middle. He's not exactly going slow but neither is he going that fast. Will listen to what you tell him you want in the moment, increasing the rhythm of his thrusts as soon as you moan out a "Nico, please faster, baby please!"

Q= Quickie (do they prefer quickies or taking their time)

He prefers to take his time and make you fall apart multiple times, first on his fingers and tongue and then on his cock. But he can absolutely go for quickies as long as it's somewhere private.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He's down for experiment and trying new things with you. He's happy to try anything you bring up, and if you like it great, if you don't at least you tried.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go)

It depends on how exhausting the day was but he can usually go multiple rounds with little to no breaks in between.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

He's okay with toys, it wasn't something he thought about it at first but after you tried it once he discovered his love for them and all the ways he can use them on you.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Mostly he does it unintentionally at first, but once he notices there's a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, will tease you for as long as possible.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He moans and grunts, sometimes if you're teasing him he'll whine. Overall he makes really pretty sounds. Also very good at dirty talk but his voice will sometimes crack as a moan slips past.

W= Wild card (random headcannon of any sort)

During the big Brocedes fall out era he has fucked you rough, purposefully trying to make you be loud, all against the wall separating his driver's room from Lewis's.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in those pants)

He's a bit above average for length and around average girth, also has a pretty pink tip, always sensitive and leaking.

Y= Yearning (sex drive)

He's not fully sex crazed but is quiet needy. Ideally 3-4 times a week.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Nico will wait for you to fall asleep first, holding you close, his hands stroking your skin, the movement slowing down and coming to a stop once he can no longer fight off sleep, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

#dia's abc's #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #formula 1 #dia writes #nico rosberg smut #nico rosberg x reader #nico rosberg imagine #nico rosberg #nr6 x reader #nico rosberg x you #f1 smut

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maspers · 12 hours ago

Text

Oh! You're asking about Outer Darkness. Let's see if I can help out. Disclaimer tho I'm just a random guy on the internet so be aware that my personal understanding of my faith could be coloring my explanation somewhat, despite my efforts not to.

First: yes, as the existence of such a place implies, we do believe in a possibility for eternal punishment. If we're talking about permanent hell, this is the place. The reason tons of LDS folks like to act like it doesn't is because 1) it sounds nicer and unfortunately people care too much about their reputations and 2) the chances of going to Outer Darkness is like. ASTRONOMICALLY small.

There's an old joke that if you ask a Mormon what happens after you die, they'll draw you a map (as opposed to a Catholic who will tell you to ask your priest and a Protestant who will tell you to ask your Bible, iirc how the joke goes). And honestly, it's true. LDS theology has its afterlife occur in multiple stages. The Spirit World is when you go where you die. But EVENTUALLY Jesus is gonna show up again (probably at the end of the apocalypse because dramatic timing) and EVERYONE is gonna get resurrected. And while the resurrecting is going on there's like a thousand years of awesomeness and getting some last-minute ordinance work done. Shenanigans ensue, everyone teams up to beat up Satan one last time (long story) and THEN and only then do we get to the Final Judgement, when it's FINALLY decided where people are going to be for eternity.

At every point BEFORE the final judgement, everything is ultimately temporary and can be forgiven or whatever because Jesus is awesome. Immortality is a guarantee for literally everyone, and even the people who DONT repent and become good people will still get a spot in a Kingdom of Glory, which even the lowest is referred to as better than anything humanity can comprehend (LDS folk don't do what they do because they want to get into Heaven, they do what they do because they want ALL THE PERKS). Getting into a Kingdom of Glory is essentially the DEFAULT.

But, at the final judgement, it IS possible for someone to do something that can never be forgiven. If you stand at the final judgement, with a perfect knowledge of EVERYTHING (because like, it's the final judgement, your entire past and the past of the UNIVERSE is laid out in front of you, you have complete understanding of what the universe is, how it works, and God's role in all of it) and then essentially give God the middle finger and say "screw you God, I hate you and deny you and everything you stand for"... He still won't send you to Outer Darkness. You have to do that to Him, AND Jesus, AND the Holy Ghost (LDS folk believe they're separate people, not a long story but not worth going into here) and basically also give literally every thing that's good the middle finger as well in the process, because ultimately everything good in the world comes back to those three. Then, and ONLY then, will you be declared a Son of Perdition (though really it should be "Child of Perdition" now, the term originates from scriptural text, obviously people who aren't male could still in theory become a Son of Perdition) and you'll go to Outer Darkness to chill with Satan and be depressed for eternity. I cannot emphasize enough that the people who go to Outer Darkness will go there of their own free will and choice, with a perfect understanding of the decision they are making. Despite what some people might tell you (and what some very stupid LDS folk might believe) Mormonism is heavily built on the concept of free will, and getting sent to Outer Darkness is no exception. You only go there if you WANT to.

And honestly, that's a REALLY stupid thing to do? The amount of people who will end up as Sons of Perdition is INSANELY small, especially compared to the amount of humans that have lived and will live. In all of scripture we only know of to meet the criteria is Cain, and he was only able to meet the criteria because of the unique circumstances at the start of Genesis, it's pretty much impossible for ANYONE to qualify during mortality, or at any other point before Judgement. Cain just is Like That I guess. (Incidentally Cain will explicitly RULE the place, because Satan is a loser and doesn't have a body so he can't be in charge). Some people claim Judas Iscariot also qualifies but that's not backed up by any scriptural or prophetic text, and frankly that idea doesn't make much sense to me.

The kicker is in theory, Outer Darkness technically isn't permanent either. If a Son of Perdition were to recant their ultimate middle finger to God and everything else, they would in theory be allowed to leave. The only reason it IS permanent is because at that point the idea of spitefully rejecting the glory of God is so engrained in their being that they will never repent. It's become their entire nature. (I'll admit this part isn't stated explicitly in scripture anywhere, for obvious reasons Outer Darkness isn't talked about much in the text, but it can be reasonably extrapolated from what we know about the nature of God and mankind based ON the text).

So TLDR: Outer Darkness is a thing in LDS theology, and so is Eternal Punishment, but the only people who go there LITERALLY ask for it. You're almost certainly not going there. Don't worry about it.

As for how this affects the LDS perception of Hell... like every religion, YMMV. Different members view things differently. Some people mistakenly believe that if you're a member of the Church and then leave or otherwise start being a bad person, you'll go to Outer Darkness. This explicitly isn't the case. But Outer Darkness as we understand it is the part of our theology that most closely resembles the traditional Christian idea of hell (though with less fire and brimstone and more just eternal self-loathing and anger), so if a Latter-Day Saint is referring to Hell as a specific place, then they're probably referring to here.

However, when an LDS person mentions Hell, they could ALSO be referring to:

Spirit Prison, where the people who didn't do All The Right Things in life go when they die. Not as bad as it sounds. Like yeah there's suffering but as we understand it it's probably like the "You feel your sins crawling up your back" thing from Undertale where you're just hating yourself because of your guilt. Regardless of if you stay here or end up transferring to Spirit Paradise, you still probably won't go to Outer Darkness. This takes place before the Judgement (long before) but since it's IMMEDIATELY after mortality it sometimes gets conflated with Hell as "bad place you go when you die"

Spiritual Death, aka what Hell as a concept MOST likely is being referred to by LDS. Literally just referring to a spiritual separation from god. Physical Death is when your body dies (oof) and Spiritual Death is when you metaphorically die by not being Christlike, and can really happen at any time. Jesus, being the awesome person He is, provides salvation from BOTH kinds of death (He breaks the "chains of death and hell") so like. Don't even worry about it. Incidentally, since literally everyone is experiencing some level of Spiritual death right now because we're designed to be flawed during mortality, we're technically all in hell right now! Yayyyyyyyyy. Again, don't worry, this is part of the process, part of the point of mortality is to fail and get back up.

So Second TLDR: Outer Darkness is generally known and understood by LDS communities, but like. We don't worry about it too much. Usually when an LDS folk talks about hell in a religious sense they're talking about the concept of (ideally temporary) Spiritual Death.

"Maspers are you going to cite your sources" No, this is tumblr and I'm lazy. the other LDS folks can back me up and correct me if I'm wrong. Peer review ftw.

seeing people discussing the concept of hell and how cruel the idea of eternal punishment is like, wow! i know this belief system you would love if not for your knee-jerk reaction against its name

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nabipumpum · 3 days ago

Text

｡𖦹°‧ Coming back to you ᴴᵃⁿⁿⁱ ˣ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Pairing - Pham Hanni X fem!Reader

Genre - slight angst, fluff

Synopsis - Months after you have followed separate paths, the silence between you is as deafening as the words that have never been said. Both try to move on, but there is something that continues to connect them: absence. As time goes by, memories become more alive, and the lives you try to build without the other begin to unfold in unexpected ways.

Warnings! non idol au!, mention of alcoholism, a certain dependence?, not reviewed W.C.: 1.776

Part 1 | Part 2

Newjeans masterlist

Weeks turned into months, but the void left by Hanni didn’t seem to diminish.

You spent your days trying to fill the time, immersing yourself in routines that once seemed insignificant, but were now your only way to maintain your sanity. The support group, the new hobbies, the lonely nights you filled with old movies… Everything was an effort to move on.

But in the silence of the early morning, it was she who filled your mind. Hanni’s smile, the eyes that always seemed to see right through you, and even the way she caught your attention when she knew you were closing yourself off.

You knew you no longer had the right to text, but that didn’t stop your hand from hovering over your phone, your fingers itching to type a simple: “I miss you.”

And on the other side, Hanni wasn’t so different.

Although she had gone back to her routine and kept up appearances, the sound of her name still echoed in the corridors of your mind.

Sometimes, when conversations with her friends lost their meaning or when the silence became too heavy, Hanni found herself looking at her cell phone, going through old messages she never had the courage to delete.

She told herself it was better this way. But on especially lonely nights, Hanni felt the weight of what she had lost, and the longing was like a slow blade.

It was on a rainy afternoon that you found yourself walking aimlessly through the city. The fine drops soaked your jacket while your footsteps echoed on the wet sidewalk.

Everything seemed heavy, but at the same time, there was something comforting in the melancholy of the moment.

Without realizing it, you arrived at the park. The same park where everything began and ended. The memories came like a blow: Hanni on the swing, the way she looked at you when you said something that seemed to break her heart.

You sat on a bench, letting the rain mix with the tears that you didn't even realize were falling.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Hanni was at a café with some friends, but the conversation seemed distant. Something was off, and she knew exactly what it was: you.

“Are you okay?” Danielle asked, interrupting Hanni’s thoughts.

“Yeah, just… I’m distracted.” She replied, forcing a smile.

But when she looked out the window and saw the rain falling, Hanni felt her chest tighten again. The same tightness she felt whenever she thought about you.

A few weeks later, you finally crossed paths again. It wasn’t planned, but it seemed inevitable.

You were leaving a supermarket, holding a bag with fruit and bread, when you saw her. Hanni was on the other side of the street, walking quickly, a backpack slung over her shoulder.

Your heart stopped for a moment. You didn’t know if you called out to her or if you simply pretended not to see her.

But Hanni saw you. And, for a moment, your eyes met.

She hesitated, and you noticed the small, sad smile she gave before turning to continue walking.

Before you could think, you called out to her.

“Hanni!”

She stopped, turning around slowly. Her face was serene, but her eyes gave everything away: longing, hurt, and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

“Hi…” she said softly, as if the word was hard to say.

You hurried across the street, the words tumbling over each other in your mind. “I… I didn’t know I’d see you here.”

“I didn’t expect it either.” She replied, looking down at the ground for a moment.

The silence between you was heavy. It was the kind of silence that only existed between two people who had been everything to each other and were now just… strangers with a shared past.

“Are you okay?” you asked, finally.

Hanni nodded, but there was something in her manner that told you it was an automatic response. “And you?”

“I’m trying,” you answered honestly. “Some days are better than others.”

She looked at you, and for a moment, you thought she was going to say something important. But instead, she just smiled slightly. “I’m happy for you.” she said, before tightening her grip on her backpack and taking a step back. “I… I have to go.”

“Sure.” you answered quickly, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest. When she turned to leave, you stood there, watching as Hanni disappeared into the crowd.

And on the other side, Hanni couldn’t help but look back one last time, her face carrying a mix of longing and regret.

The days that followed were filled with the shadow of that encounter.

To you, the sight of Hanni seemed clearer than anything around you.

The way she looked at you, as if she was holding herself back from saying something else, haunted you.

Hanni, on the other hand, began to question her own choices. She knew she had done the right thing by walking away, but the sight of you trying to change, trying to move on, affected her in a way she couldn't explain.

They both went about their daily lives, pretending that time was healing them the wounds. But at night, when the world went silent, the emptiness left by the other seemed louder than ever.

Hanni thought of you. And you thought of Hanni.

But neither of you found the courage to fill the silence.

It was a cloudy afternoon when you saw her again. This time, it wasn’t by chance. After days of dwelling on the brief encounter at the supermarket, you decided you had to act.

You knew where to find her. A small café near Hanni’s college was the place where she usually studied. And there she was, sitting alone with her headphones on, a notebook open and a pen twirling between her fingers.

Your heart was beating fast as you approached her, hesitant. For a moment, you thought about going back, but then she looked up and your eyes met.

“You.” she said, surprised.

“Hi…” you replied, feeling your voice crack.

She took off her headphones, putting them aside. “What are you doing here?”

“I… wanted to talk to you.” you said, nervous. “If you have time.”

Hanni hesitated, but then closed her notebook and gestured to the seat across from her. “Okay. Tell me.”

You sat down, your hands sweating as you tried to find the right words. “I know we saw each other at the grocery store, and I didn’t say everything I wanted to. But… I needed to see you again.”

“Why?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“Because I wanted to show you that I’ve changed.” you said, taking a deep breath. “That everything you said to me that day in the park, and later at the café… I heard it, Hanni. And I took it to heart.”

She frowned, as if trying to understand where you were going with this.

“I’ve been sober for six months.” you continued, your voice shaking. “It wasn’t easy. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I did it. For me. Because I realized I couldn’t keep living the way I was.”

Hanni was silent, her eyes fixed on yours.

“And part of it was because I realized how much I hurt you,” you added, feeling the tears well up. “I don’t want to use you as an outlet ever again. I want to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

She looked away for a moment, biting her lip. You didn’t know what to expect, but then she spoke:

“I’m happy for you.” she said softly. “I really am. You’re trying, and that’s… amazing. But I don’t know what that means for us.”

“It means that if you still have feelings for me, I want to try again.” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “But only if you want me to. Because I don’t expect you to trust me right away. I just want a chance to prove that I can be different.”

The silence that followed felt like an eternity, but then Hanni sighed and looked you in the eyes. “I’m not going to lie. I missed you. More than I’d like to admit.” But… I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” you asked.

“Of getting hurt again.” she admitted. “Of letting myself believe that things will be different and ending up in the same place.”

“I understand.” you answered sincerely. “And I’m not going to ask you to trust me now. I just want to show you, over time, that you don’t need to be scared.”

Hanni looked at you for a moment longer, as if trying to see the truth behind your words. Finally, she gave a small smile.

“Okay…” she said softly. “Let’s see where this goes.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you held it in. You knew this chance was just the beginning.

In the months that followed, you began to rebuild what you had lost. Hanni was cautious, but little by little, she began to relax around you. You shared laughs and long conversations again, but this time, there was something different: transparency.

You made a point of being present in every moment, not just the bad ones. You would invite Hanni to go for walks, to watch movies, to study. And she, in turn, began to trust you again.

One afternoon, while you were at the park — the same one where so many good and bad memories were made — Hanni held your hand.

“I think for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel afraid.” She said, smiling slightly.

You squeezed her hand, feeling your heart warm. “I promise you’ll never have to feel that way with me again.”

One night, while you were lying on the couch, watching a random movie, Hanni looked at you with a smile that was pure relief.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” she said, her voice soft.

You smiled, feeling your eyes sting with the tears that were coming. “Thank you for giving me a chance. For believing in me, even after everything.”

Hanni leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I believe in you. I always have. I just needed you to believe in yourself too.”

In that moment, you knew that despite all the hardships, you had found your way back to each other.

And this time, it would be different.

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