#It is an awful feeling to have sink in your heart: how a parent's love isn't enough; how 'maturing quick' isn't a blessing but a curse

[wachi-delectrico]

Gonna get spicy for a second and say that everyone loves spewing hate about narcissistic (NPD) parents and how awful parents with personality disorders are, but if someone were to make a post with the exact same cadence about ADHD parents they'd get shot in public at first sight

[thedevilrisen]

Cradle Me

Father!Quinn x Son & Wife!Reader. Word Count: 1,1k Authorial Note: My next voted WIP! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did while writing it! Don’t know if it’s my best piece then. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of birth.

Elliot Samuel Hughes came screaming into the world at 4:12 p.m., Quinn only knew his son for a matter of awed, breathless moments before the world sharpened—and chaos erupted.

Nurses swarmed you, dabbing and cleaning with sodden warm towels. A warm, slimy bundle of swaddle-blanket and baby reached your chest as the obstetrician stepped back from your glistening body. Quinn's reddened hand slipped from your grip, instinctively cradling the baby to your chest. His other hand, shaking slightly, gripped the bed's plastic rail. Leaning forward, he rested his right arm limply across your shoulder, his forehead gently touching yours as the two of you gazed down at your son.

"How’re you doing, Dad?" the obstetrician asked from the sink as he scrubbed his hands clean.

Quinn blinked, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "I feel sick... but in a good way." He laughed softly, joy plastered permanently on his face. "We created a human... that's fucking scary but awesome at the same time."

Even in your post-birth haze, a smile graced your lips. It was an awesome thing indeed. This was your person now, a culmination of Quinn and your love. Despite this baby being considered a gift, he clearly was sent to test you and Quinn’s love for each other. No parenting class could have prepared you for the unfolding chaos that was leaving the hospital and heading home. The first day at the hospital was incredible, the nurses gently guided you and Quinn in the ways of parenting. But once you left and arrived home, the learning curve turned into an aggressive crash course.

Emotions ran high for every family member. Every nap missed, messy feed, spit-up, or nappy mess that needed cleaning up frayed the string further. Quinn and you had been remarkably naïve to think that this journey would be easy, even though you’d been dreaming collectively of this moment for years.

Quinn, along with self-proclaimed uncles Elias, Brock, and JT, spent hours working on the perfect nursery for baby boy Hughes. From wall decorations to the crib and changing table—which you insisted had to be powder blue with clouds and a grassy field with cows in it—the boys poured their hearts into it. Once they had finished assembling the room and you'd let it air out due to your hatred of the smell of fresh paint, you added the final details: books, blankets, nappies, and wipes, along with baby clothes hanging neatly on tiny coat hangers.

The first night home from the hospital was powered purely by adrenaline. You and Quinn took shifts with baby boy—changing, feeding, and sometimes just comforting him to sleep. By the second and third nights, the exhaustion set in. Leaving the warmth of the bed became a Herculean effort, especially for you. The physical toll of birth weighed heavily on your body, and sustaining new life felt overwhelming.

Quinn tried his hardest to take the load off, seeing how hard you were working to make the transition smooth, though it felt futile. His patience held up remarkably well for the first four days, but by the fourth night, tension crept in. Snappish words replaced your usual playful banter, and the distance between you felt like a growing chasm. Quinn’s touch, once so comforting, now felt foreign. Exhaustion tangled both your nerves, and intimacy between the two of you became a distant memory.

That night, an abrupt “goodnight” was shared, accompanied by a peck on the cheek. You both lay there in the dark, separated by a wall of fatigue, each praying for sleep that never came, as baby boy woke again at distasteful hours of the night.

Night five was the killer. Some ungodly hour like 1:03 a.m. glared back at you from the microwave as you ambled around the kitchen for the second time that night. You’d fed him twice now, but much of the milk had come back up in spit-up. Quinn had changed baby once and had checked on him again 45 minutes earlier.

There was one distinct problem: the baby only slept when he was held. You could do as many laps around the kitchen as you wanted, Quinn could rock him for hours, but as soon as baby landed on the bassinet’s mattress, it was like laying him on lava.

"Still no luck, darlin’?" Quinn’s voice came quietly from the doorway, his tired form silhouetted by the dim light of the stairs. He met you halfway, his brow furrowed with concern.

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh. "Every time I put him down, he cries," you whispered, blinking back tears. "I’m so tired, Quinn."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "C’mon, let’s go back to bed," he murmured, leading you gently up the stairs. Exhaustion had blurred the edges of your world, and you forced a tired smile as he kissed your hand again.

"He’s just going to cry when I put him down, Quinn," you stated tiredly as he threw back the covers for you. The softness of the bed felt like heaven against your aching body, and you settled in without a second thought.

Quinn, now shirtless, pulled baby from your arms and nestled him gently on his chest, holding him snugly as he propped himself up with pillows. He tucked you in under his arm, pulling the blankets over both of you.

"Sleep now, darlin’," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. Baby wriggled slightly in his swaddle but quickly relaxed against Quinn's warmth. "If this is how we have to do it from now on, fine."

Quinn sighed, his grip tightening around both of you. "At least we have good chiros at the rink."

[struniolos]

guitar lessons.

chapter two: meddle about.

(you can read chapter one here!)

synopsis: you decided to take guitar lessons from your boyfriend nate’s best friend, chris, while he’s away at college. but one night, things go too far. loosely based off the song sex by the 1975.

warnings: smut! minors do not interact.

“what did you yesterday baby?” nate’s voice hums through the phone, as you cuddle up into your bedsheets.

you rambled to him about everything, how you’d gone to buy a gingerbread house to make with your friends, how you bought a new coat, everything other than what was gnawing at you. chris. you tried your best to act as you usually did, but made an effort to bounce the questions back to him so you didn’t have to talk about yourself.

“so, when are you coming to visit me?” you said, biting your lips.

“i’ve got to study for finals next week, so i’m probably not for another two weeks.” nate told you, making your heart sink.

the less you saw him, the more you felt yourself drifting away from him. it was a gut wrenchingly awful feeling, guilt bubbling beneath the surface of your body. in everything you did, you felt it.

you sighed into the speaker. “i miss you.”

“i miss you too, baby.” nate told you. “well, i’ve got training in the morning so i should go, but we’ll talk soon. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you said quietly, holding your face in your hands.

as the phone call came to an end, you found yourself curled in a ball under the covers. it was almost 8pm, when you agreed to meet with chris. but your heart was telling you not to go, that this was an awful idea. because it was, you had just told your boyfriend how you loved him moments before meeting up with his best friend. you decided to message chris.

you: i’m not coming, i’m sorry.

he typed back instantly.

chris: why? we can just chill :(

you: it’s too cold. i just want to stay in bed.

you try and weasel your way out of the gate you’ve opened, to step back as if you weren’t the one also engaging in this.

chris: what if i came to pick you up?

you bit your lips, sighing.

you: fine.

about an hour later, you look out your bedroom window to see the familiar black van out the front of your house, it’s headlights illuminating the icy road thats caked in snow at the curb. you grab your hoodie and put on your slippers, sneaking down the staircase to not disturb your parents as they would know damn well it wasn’t nate.

you tiptoed your way out the front door, walking the snowy path towards the van. chris had already reached over to open the door for you, and you felt yourself getting flustered. you jumped into the van, closing the door firmly behind you and looking over at chris, his hair dark and loose, his silver necklace stark against his black crewneck.

“hey.” he smiled, putting the car into drive.

“hey.” you said shyly, biting your cheek. “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see.” chris shrugged, with one the hand on the wheel and the other propped up against the window.

you felt an unbearable weight on your chest, something urging you to stop. to tell him to turn around and take you home. but there was something about him, something that you couldn’t fight. nate was the safe option, you knew that, but chris- chris was dangerous.

the radio was on quietly, the hum of the engine and icy roads filling your ears. you both didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, in complete silence within each other’s company. you wondered if chris was thinking about nate, or if he was selfishly wanting you all to himself.

eventually, you were parked at a lookout spot at the hilled part of the neighbourhood, looking out to the thousands of houses below only specks of yellow light against the darkness. you were shielded by woods, away from prying eyes.

chris parked the car, pulling the handbreak and leaning back in his chair. he looked over at you, his eyes dark.

“i don’t know what i’m doing, chris.” you said softly, breaking the silence. “i shouldn’t be here.”

“but you came.” he opposed, rubbing his face- his chain bracelet falling down his veined arm. you found yourself eyeing his fingers too, long and slender, the dimmed light carving out his features.

chris was the one to make the first move, shifting his hand to your thigh as he held eye contact with you. “why did you leave yesterday?”

“because it’s wrong and we shouldn’t be…i shouldn’t be doing this.” you said with pleading eyes.

chris continued rubbing your thigh. you don’t stop him. he leaned over to grab your face with his other hand, his finger tracing your warm cheek and lips, his thumb prying your mouth open.

“after you left, did you go home and touch yourself thinking about me?” he murmured, looking at you though hooded eyelids.

you hated how much you loved this, how much you revelled in his forbidden touch. you knew he wanted you to suck on his fingers but you didn’t, simply kissing the pad of his thumb. “no.”

“hmm.” he hummed, grabbing your cheeks with one hand, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he squeezed them together to pout your mouth. “i did.”

you clenched your thighs together, as he kissed you deep. you moaned into his mouth, as his tongue came to lick into yours. it was messy, all teeth and tongue. you never did this with nate, it was always so straightforward. you guessed this was why chris was so enticing- he was everything nate wasn’t.

“come over here.” he whispered, grabbing your hips to help you. he pushed the seat backwards to give you both more space, as you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him.

you rubbed your palms down his shirt, breathing heavily. “what happened to teaching me guitar?

“i’m teaching you something else.” he smirked, kissing you again, this time slower.

you pulled away briefly. “and what would that be?”

“how to feel good.” he flirted, kissing the corner of your mouth, his hands greedy as he squeezed your hips and groped your behind.

“my boyfriend makes me feel just fine.” you told him, trying to elicit a reaction.

but chris didn’t react, instead looking you directly in the eyes as he tilted his head as he dipped a hand below your sweatpants. “if he did, why did you come to me?”

your lips fall apart as he began to rub circles through your panties, your sensitive bundle of nerves pulsating at his touch. your lips found each other, tongues dancing and hot air spilling from your nose as your breathing picked up. he moved your underwear to the side, his fingers collecting your slick.

“i dreamed about this.” chris told you, as he began to push his ring finger inside your velvet walls.

“you did?” you breathed, bracing your hands on his shoulders.

he kissed your cheek sloppily. “mhm, about how good you’d feel.”

you moaned at the feeling of his finger fully seated inside you. fuck, it had been so long. chris pumped his finger in and out of you a few times before adding another, your vision blurring and body heating up.

“c’mon pretty girl.” he urged you, as his fingers curled and beckoned you towards your orgasm.

you moaned raggedly into his mouth, your hips starting to grind up and down. the feeling of his lips on yours, his hand on the small of your back guiding you as he fingered you deep sent you over the edge embarrassingly quickly. you moaned and squirmed in his lap, a complete mess. he coerced your release through small praises and kisses, holding you close to his chest. chris brought his fingers to his mouth to suck clean, locking eyes with you- it was lewd, but ridiculously hot.

“i want to be inside you.” chris confessed, his lips attaching to your neck to suck bruises into your skin.

“chris.” you protested, but he continued to assault your neck, his other hand coming to cup your ass, moulding it against his hand.

“i can take care of you better than him.” he uttered, now squeezing your breasts with both hands, kneading and palming them.

you felt your pussy flutter, your core coming in contact with his hardness. you ground down onto him, the friction euphoric. “show me.”

between kisses and whispers, chris assisted you in ridding yourself of your hoodie, and pulling your sweatpants off. he tossed them into the backseat, as well as tossing his crewneck and tshirt off and shimmying down his own sweatpants, so they sat at his thighs. you continued to grind yourself down on his hardness, both of you moaning and breathing heavily at the feeling.

you couldn’t do this to nate, this would completely change things. this would break you. you knew if you continued, that there was no going back. but it just felt so good.

chris kissed the valleys of your breasts, pulling your bra down so it hung at your hips, as he continued to suckle on each one, toying with the other with his free hand. you moaned heavily, the feeling of his warm mouth and breath on you too much. chris pulled away with a wet pop, leaving your nipples peaked and wet.

“i want you to spit on my cock before i fuck you.” he instructed, and you did as you were told.

you pulled down his boxers to let his weeping cock spring free, letting it slap against his stomach. you licked your lips, as you held it in your hands, the warm weight of it enough to send you over the edge. he was definitely bigger than nate, girthier too- you knew it was going to hurt. you spit on your hand, before coating it all over his cock like lube. chris threw his head back, groaning and bucking his hips up into your hand.

chris stopped you, placing his palm on your chest. he sat himself upright, as you hovered your hips above him. he pushed your soaked panties to the side once more, rubbing the red tip of his cock against your opening. you both indulged in the feeling, pushing your lips together and your breath mingling as one.

“want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” he growled.

“please.” you pleaded, feverishly kissing him.

“you think i can fuck you better than your boyfriend?” he dares, licking behind your ear and continuing to rub the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

you shudder, biting your lips to you conceal your answer as your pussy throbs. yes, you think to yourself.

chris grabs your hips, leaving crescent moons in your flesh from his nails as he guides you. you let out an embarrassing desperate moan as you sink yourself down onto him, seated perfectly in his lap. he’s only halfway in, and the stretch is much more than you’re used to. or maybe because it had been so long? was it because he was bigger than nate? your mind buzzed with thoughts. thoughts of your boyfriend. here you where, with his best friends dick inside of you- and it turned you on much more than you’d admit to yourself.

chris kissed you sloppily as he helped you seat yourself completely on him, your pussy swallowing him whole. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. you felt so full, so content. you hadn’t felt this...ever.

without much time to adjust to his size, chris began thrusting his hips up into you, filling you to the hilt. you gasped and grappled onto him, anywhere you could, his hair, his shoulders, the car seat behind him. he was relentless.

“i’ve wanted to do this for months.” he whispered, grabbing a fist full of your hair and using it to pull your head back, giving him full access to your neck and chest.

all you could do was moan in response, as his hips snapped up into you at a reckless pace. he licked up your throat, and dipped his fingers into your mouth. you gagged on them, saliva dripping down your chin. it was filthy and messy and so fucking hot. you had never experienced anything like it.

“do i fuck you better than your boyfriend? huh?” he growled, as you began to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your release.

“mhm” you muffled, his fingers dropping from your mouth.

“what was that?” he taunted, a devilish smile daunting over him.

you almost felt like you were going to split in half with the pace and force he was fucking into you. tears were almost pricking your eyes, everything just felt so good.

“yes, yes chris.” you cried, a blubbering mess as he grabbed your hips tighter to pound into you.

you grabbed his face with both hands, kissing him full of tongue and saliva. everything was becoming blurred, your thoughts of nate a distant memory as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. your toes began to curl, your face contorting and a high pitched squeal -you didn’t know you were capable of- coming from within you.

“fuck oh my god!” you shuddered, your body beginning to convulse and shake around him, clutching onto his sweaty body tighter.

you felt your release come quicker than you’d have liked, with chris’ thrusts becoming more languid as he helped you ride out your high. his hair was stuck to his forehead, his cheeks and chest flushed red. his eyebrows knit together and lips parted as he followed close behind you, shooting his hot juices into you. you let your forehead fall to his shoulder, breathing heavily and your body shuddering.

you both sat for a while, catching your breath, with chris still deep inside you. you raised your head, looking at him with saddened eyes, pushing his hair from his face.

chris pouted at you, scrunching his nose. “what?”

“i cant believe we did that. that…that shouldn’t have happened.” you tell him softly, as the weight of the situation finally sunk in.

you had cheated on nate.

“he won’t know.” chris assured you, rubbing slow circles on your bare back.

you shook your head. “but what if he finds out.“

“he won’t.” chris said firmly, looking at you with a seriousness you weren’t used to. “same time tomorrow?”

you rubbed your forehead, looking at the man before you. he was gorgeous, all fucked out and blissful, lips kissed and hair mussed. how could you say no?

“okay.”

taglist;

@creamoncreamoncream @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @sofiasnookiee @goandcomebsck @chrisluvbot @arizonaicedtealoverrr @lustfulslxt @s1urnioloslvr @meme2003 @starsturniolo

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: it's hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd drags you away as you hear the disgusted muttering of his parents. You try to tug free but he’s too strong. Even if he did let go, where would you go? Your ankles nearly bend in the heels as he urges you to the stairs and you stumble into his back. 

“Aw, baby,” he faces you, “don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll get there.” 

Before you can react, he scoops you up. You cry out, the dregs of your bile burn your throat. You make a face at the smell. He’s hardly bothered as he turns to continue up the staircase. 

“Damn, jelly bean,” he snarls as you feel his heart racing, “I knew you were a freak underneath it all. The way you just dug right in. Like an animal. Feral,” he snickers and kisses the top of your head as he gets to even ground, “we’re more alike than you know, aren’t we?” 

You gulp and say nothing. You’re disgusted as much by yourself as him. All that and for what? You’re still stuck with this madman. How on earth did he even notice you? By his parents’ suggestion, you’re far from his type. 

“Urgh, I don’t feel good,” you rub your stomach and wriggle in his grasp. It would be a good excuse to get away, or at least some space.  

“That’s alright, jelly bean, you let me take care of you,” he carries you breezily down the hall, his footsteps jaunty. You put your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself and his blue eyes flick down to the diamond ring, “fuck, that looks amazing on you. I’ll look just as good on you.” 

He laughs at his slimy joke but it only unsettles you. Even with barf on your breath and steak in your teeth, you can’t deter him. You’ve tried everything; ignoring him, waiting him out to the point of starvation, and making a fool of yourself. Your hope dwindles to a single strand, ready to snap. 

He takes you into the bedroom and through to the adjoining bathroom. The shining marble and gleaming golden accoutrements reflect the overhead light in a pristine sheen. He places you down on the counter so your legs dangle over the edge and he puts his hands on your shoulders. 

“Don’t take it to heart, bean, mom and dad are just like that. You’ll always be good enough for me,” he winks and shifts over to the sink.  

You watch him, helpless. You know better than to hop off in those heels and twist your ankle. He fills a clear cup with porcelain and wets a toothbrush before adding minty paste. He holds them out to you and you accept them wordlessly. The sparkle of the ring makes you wince. 

“I’m their son and they don’t really like me. Sometimes I wonder why they even had me...” he sighs and flicks the cup lightly with his finger. 

You put the brush in your mouth and scrub your teeth. It’s a good excuse not to reply. You don’t really get this man. He’ll kidnap a woman then spill his heart out like you care. Still, knowing how his parents are, you can piece together how he got to this point. 

“You get me, jelly bean. I know you got no parents and sometimes, I feel the same--” 

You choke and pull the brush from your mouth. You swig with the cup and lean over to spit into the sink. You sneer at him, a genuine wave of anger rising in you, “how do you know that?” 

Surprise washes over him at your reaction. He shrugs and hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “well, of course, I had to learn everything about you, honey. To take care of you. Tie up any loose ends hanging off of you--” 

“What the... you...” you scrunch your brow up and shake your head. You feel even sicker. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” 

“Stop?” He smirks, “stop what?” 

You sigh and put the brush back in your mouth. You scrape away the taste of vomit and rinse your mouth again. He takes the cup and brush and puts them aside for you. He comes back to stand in front of you. 

“Your special, bean. I gotta keep you safe. I mean, look how easy I just waltzed in, imagine what a really bad guy could do,” he frames your face with his hand, “just look at you...” he squeezes your jaw tightly so you can’t pull away, “so small and cute and... delicious. I bet you taste as sweet as a jelly bean, huh?” 

His other hand tickles your side and he steps closer, wiggling his way between your knees your legs splay wide. The skirt strains around your thighs as he grips your hip more firmly. He purrs and leans in, his nose tickling yours. 

You press on his chest, "your parents." 

"They can see themselves out, they always do," he slithers, "baby, I only need you." 

"Wait, I'm not-- I--" you babble as his hand slips down and his fingers curl under your ass to grope you, "Lloyd, please, we-- we aren't even married yet." 

He pauses, hovering before your lips and draws back. His mouth slants. 

"Are you an old-fashioned girl, huh? I shoulda known," he purrs, "well, I can get with that," he drops his hand from your chin, "we don't gotta go all the way." 

He brings both his hands to your hips and pulls you towards him. You fall back with the suddenness and barely catch yourself on your elbows. You squeal as he keeps your legs wide and yanks at your skirt. 

"Please, I'm not-- I'm not ready," you plead. 

"Don't worry, babe, I'll get you warmed up," he rasps as he shoves his hands up your dress, bending over you as he exposes your panties. 

"Ah, gosh," you sputter dumbly, writhing as he bows down to bury his nose against your underwear. He takes a big whiff and you exclaim, embarrassed. "Ayeee, Lloyd." 

"You smell like heaven," he lowers himself to his knees, "and I'm not a religious man, mind you." 

You clutch the edge of the counter as you slip down, propping one elbow as you fight the slipperiness of the satin. He nuzzles you, dragging his nose along the trim of your panties as his breath dampens your skin. He nips at you playfully and snarls. 

You squeal in surprise once more. The rippling sensation that radiates from his touch has you as off-kilter as your position. He feels along your thigh and hooks his hand around your other leg. He flutters his fingertips against your panties and tugs them to the side, a waft of cool air dancing over your bare lips. You wriggle again. 

"It's okay, baby, I'll be nice, just a little appetizer," he coaxes and swipes his tongue along your cunt. As you gasp, he rears back and does the same, "jelly bean, you lied to me. You are ready," he licks his lips and you look down at him, his lips already glistening. 

As he dives back in, you gulp and shut your eyes. You turn your head away as he spreads his tongue wide and laps you up. He rocks his head, tickling you deliberately with his mustache, humming into you. You whimper and slap a palm onto the marble counter top. 

He flicks up and down, swirling as you squirm and pant helplessly. As in all things, you can’t resist. Your head falls back against the mirror and you whine. How is he doing this to you? Why is he making you like this? You don’t like him, you don’t want him! 

He tilts his head all around, garbling into you hungrily as he smears your wetness all around his face. His shamelessness spikes your arousal, a new flame razing up your spine. You heave and reach down to latch onto his hair, tugging on it as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. 

You cry out, legs quivering against his face as you try to close them. He growls and snarls eagerly, devouring you as the pressure wells up to the brim. You huff and puff, curling your spine as you try to fight the pulsing in your core. No, no, no. It’s so intense you feel the tingle in your toes. 

Your voice grows louder as your spasm and the spring overflows. You feel yourself spill into your mouth. He hums again, laughing into you as he drinks up your orgasm. You throw your arm over your face, thoroughly ashamed of your desecration. 

You slide limply down, head tilted up against the mirror, as your legs open and hang loosely. Lloyd kisses your cunt before he pulls away, making a slurping sound as your eyes slit open. You can see the wetness in his mustache. He grins proudly and sighs. 

“Fuck, jelly bean, you’re just like candy,” his eyes drift back to your exposed cunt. 

You try to close your legs and he catches your knees. Holding them open. He tuts and pokes his tongue out, once more licking up the slickness around his lips. You cringe and push yourself up on your elbows. 

“You want me to wait for all that?” He growls, “damn, baby, you must be a sadist, making me hurt so much.” 

He traces his fingers up your thighs and pinches until you squeak. He clucks and reaches past you to the counter. He pulls himself to his feet and you see the bulge in his pants. He rubs his hand across the obvious outline and he shudders. 

“You don’t gotta do anything, just let me look at you while I play with it, how about it?” 

He doesn’t wait for your permission. In that moment, you can’t speak. Even if you could, you don’t even know what you would say. He unbuckles his belt and pushes down his zipper. He’s trembling as he frees himself, his swollen top poking out of his fly. He crumples the top of his pants as he shoves them down impatiently. 

“Show me your ass, I just wanna see it,” he grabs himself and groans, “ah, shit, please, jelly bean, I’m begging you. You want me back on my knees?” He kneels again, stroking himself slowly, “please, turn over, baby, promise I won’t touch.” He moans, “can’t you hear how much pain I’m in? For you?” 

You slide down, feet touching the cold tile. You flutter your lashes, legs shaking. You’re weak and senseless. You can’t look at him. You turn and he groans again. He sounds agonized. 

He chuffs out air as you hear him pumping himself. You hang your head, leaning on your arms as he pulls up your skirt. He whines as he reveals your bare ass around the slender string of the thong. You’re roiling in humiliation and something else. 

“Shit, shit, shit, baby, you are... immaculate,” he grits, “where-- where do you want me to come?” 

“Huh?” You utter. 

“Fuck, too late,” he lets out a roar, punctured by deep huffs, petering out to a pathetic panting that leaves him droning. 

You stay as you are, hiding as your heartbeat slows and the coil inside you loosens little by little. You pull your skirt down, skin scoured in shame, and face him. He sits on his knees still, head down as his dick twitch and slowly softens. You try not to look at it. 

He lifts his head to you, his cheeks flush and his hair askew. He looks around with his foggy eyes and chuckles, “well, it’s good we’re in here, huh? We can get cleaned up.” 

You just stare at him. You’re mortified. You can’t believe what he just did. To you. Then after. And you just laid there. You think... you think you had an orgasm. 

“Let me...” he begins and wobbles before he can plant a foot on the floor. He stands stiffly, not bothering to hide his dick. You ignore the way it flops.  

He turns and goes to the tub. The top of his ass peaks out of his crooked pants. He’s absolutely ridiculous. He the last kind of person you would ever associate with. Not that you talk to anyone, but he is not anyone you would dare to speak to. Yet he has made himself your personal pest. 

He bends over the large tub and cranks it on. You peek over at the door. How loud were you? Were his parents still there to hear you? You frown and raise a foot then lower it again. Your instinct to run fights with your logic. You know you won’t get far, not on jelly legs and not from him. 

The water spills out and he stands, backing away as he rubs his lower back. He strips off his jacket and rolls his shoulders. He turns back and lays it across the other end of the counter. He unbuttons his shirt and looks over at you. 

“Come on, jelly bean, unless you like a bit of zest, I don’t mind it,” he pokes his tongue out at you, “extra flavour and all. 

You let your disgust singe through and curl your lip. He laughs. He drops his shirt and nears. He turns you to face him as your skirt drapes back over your legs. He guides the straps down your shoulders. He shimmies the sheath down your body, his fingers grazing your skin cloyingly. You shiver as bumps raise on your skin. 

“You been hiding, jelly bean, well I’m about to bring you right out of that shell,” he smirks, “if there’s one thing to know about Lloyd Hansen, there’s no walls that can keep him out. I’m gonna tear yours right down.” 

[luvyunjinxo]

I'll make you feel better || jang wonyoung g!p x fem!reader

CW: mentions of cheating (do not cheat ever it's just for this fic 😡), g!p wonyoung, body worship, toxic relationship mentions, squirting & not proofread lmk if I missed one! (kinda longer than my usual fics btw)

you felt awful. walls felt like they were caving in and your emotions were taking over, not to mention it felt like your life was over. you had just walked into your newly ex-boyfriend cheating.

for context, you just got off of work texting wonyoung saying how happy you were to finally see him after a long day. BUT. you and wonyoung had this thing. It was a type of tension between each other, something that you and him never had. You felt it, and she did too. yet, you denied your feelings for her always because you knew it was wrong.

continuing, you walked into your shared apartment with him and heard noises more like groaning coming from your room? You honestly thought it was just him jacking off or something which you were honestly excited for but instead you saw something else.

your heart sunk, broke, and suddenly you're on the floor. crying and screaming out curses "why would you do this to me!?"

"baby please, it's not what it looks like." he lied. what a fucking liar. he was literally just fucking a girl on the bed two seconds ago like crazy.

"I just felt lonely without you here, I love you so so much." he screamed back while trying to kiss your hands. cringey and pathetic. you told him that he was kicked out and never to come back to your place again, since you were technically the one who bought it for both of you.

he packed his stuff and left for good. blocking his number, throwing out his toothbrush and everything else he forgot. you were a mess and you could tell, so was he. but who the fuck cares he cheated?

the next day now, still not doing well. you were forced to go to college by your strict parents so you had nothing to do but comply, and just go. You didn't tell wonyoung about what happened yet but you were planning to. you showed up to the class you had to go to which apparently wonyoung was in too.

now was finally the chance to tell her. she sat next to you like always, exchanging secrets always. but this time it was different. She looked at your eyes while she sat down and saw your red eyes and eye bags.

she was so worried about you. she really did love you. she didn't tell you, yet but she has a big crush on you but you just couldn't realize it fully. she scooted closer to you and tucked your hair behind your ear. with that she also lifted up your chin with her finger just so you could look at her. "butterflies😻" was all you could think of in your head.

"whats wrong y/nnie? what happened to you?"

"I d-didn't tell you yet but, he cheated as soon as I got home yesterday andicouldntcallyoubecauseiwasacryingmessand-"

you were talking to fast and you got cut off with her finger going on your lips. tears were threatening to fall out any moment now just by talking ab this topic.

too late. you were already crying so hard that you ran to the bathroom without notice and had wonyoung running after you like a crazy person.

guys this was like a k-drama really. running through the wide halls of the college and finally finding a bathroom at least 2 minutes away, you have slowed down. wonyoung caught up to you eventually as your pace slowed.

now walking there together to clean you up, you both made it and got 10 tissues. It was a cute moment:( . wonyoung looking at you straight in the eyes while wiping your tears with the tissue.

you were against the wall right next to the sink still crying and sniffing. There was that tension again. both of you now looking each other deeply. you got lost in her beautiful eyes.

you swear she was about to go in for it. getting more bold and eager she stopped wiping your tears and went to focusing on your soft lips that stood out to her the most. this was so bad. just getting out of a relationship and already falling for someone new.

all you needed right now was wonyoung. and wonyoung needed you. she now has trapped you with both of her arms, one on the left and one on the right so you could not escape from her.

"y/n, I know you feel this between us and I'm letting you know I'm about to do something to make you feel good."

you nodded eagerly as she smashed her lips onto yours. making out deeply. and shit, she was so pretty. moans slipped out of your lips as your tongues fight for dominance and wonnie being a switch, she still won.

realizing you were making out in the bathroom made it hotter for you. the feeling of getting caught frightened you, but who cares at this point.

you pulled away with a string of saliva leaving both of your lips. "you know were gonna get in trouble by the professor right?"

"yeah I know. but its worth it." she smirked, took your hand and lead you to her car.

you didn't know where she was driving to but I guess it was your apartment. one hand on the wheel while the other is gripping your thigh. THAT WAS SO HOT TO YOU.

it was supposed to be an innocent make-out session but now your starting to feel things. your getting more drenched and wet you just couldn't help but think about all the stuff she could do to you right now. and if she did you would gladly let her. god, you were such a loser for her.

on the way to your apartment unlocking your door with your keys, you bent down to take your shoes off and place them on your rack. she couldn't help but seem to notice and slap your ass<3. sorry just had to say it because she actually did. your dumbass let out a moan because of how needy you were. any touch from wonyoung would sink into your horniness.

"was that a moan l/n y/n?" she smacks your ass again, you covering your mouth trying not to make any noise this time.

"no let it out?.. I wanna hear you." one last slap and being the loser you are for her, the loudest moan possible slipped out.

no questions asked, you were now being pushed onto the bed while she crawled over your body, topping you.

wonyoung stripping you completely but also pinning your hands above your head.

"you look so pretty like this y/n, you were always mine in the first place not his." she says while brushing your torso with her slender hand admiring your body.

she was touching you so well. the places where you were sensitive at most. She started to kiss your neck sloppily, leaving marks all around you so everyone knows your hers now. all you could do is lay back and love what she is doing to you.

"wait y/n .. can y-you uhm ride my face? .." awh how cute. she was being shy for once. no questions asked again, you complied and sat on her face slowly, not wanting to suffocate her.

"fuck! wonyoung thats s-so fast!" you screamed out as her tongue kept flicking up and down in a consistent pace which left you a mess. you were moaning so much the neighbors could hear you at that point.

"yeah, can he fuck you like this? hm?"she groaned in a husky voice, also a little mumbly because of your thighs making her suffocated.

"I-I .. no .." funny how you can't breathe because of her fucking your brains out so good.

still eating you out, she has pulled down her baggy jeans to pull out her cock. shitttt, you had to admit you wanted some of that. she got off to the thought of you coming all over her face and the thought of you moaning her names and dirty stuff you could never imagine.

You looked behind only to see her getting off to your moaning and so much precum was dripping out from her.

"ive b-been waiting so long f-for this, please I'll be good for y-you and only you." you sobbed.

"I'm really gonna c-come!" screaming out loud so everyone could hear you at this point.

"sh-shit your body is stunning. i-im coming too!" you were confused and didnt know where that compliment came from but all you know is that you were squirting all over Jang Wonyoung's face ..

you immediately collapsed onto her titties which led to you sucking them while she started to ride out of her orgasm.

"looks like you need help cleaning up a little?" wonyoung chuckled and nod making you give her head.

your tiny mouth was swirling over the tip eating all her cum. so sweet yet so bitter, just how you liked it. she didn't like the way you were teasing her so she pushed your head down a little farther making you gag. all good though because you made her cum again<3.

while you guys were all cleaned up again and under the sheets together naked, you cuddled and confessed to each other in the endd. it all worked out.

- I'll make you feel better.

I'm sorry if this was rushed because it def was 💔

[yanderecrazysie]

Hello can give Is it crime part two please 🙏

This was also requested a ton on Quotev and Wattpad. Don’t know why lol.

Title: Is It a Crime Part 2

Pairings: Todoroki Shoto x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, light swearing

Summary: Shoto isn’t fond of the quirk marriage his dad has arranged. At least, he didn’t think so at first.

Part 1: here

“Is it a crime

That I still want you?

And I want you to want me too

My love is wider, wider than Victoria Lake

My love is taller, taller than the Empire State

It dives, it jumps, and it ripples like the deepest ocean

I can't give you more than that, surely, you want me back”

-from “Is It a Crime” by Sade

You’d never seen Shoto so desperate.

The red-and-white haired man was near tears when he arrived at your door and, in wordless shock, you let him in. The typically emotionless male had never shown this much emotion to you and it made you feel a little unnerved.

“I made a mistake,” Shoto said, “Please, sign the wedding contract again. We can get married and… be happy together.”

You only miss people when they’re gone. That saying rang true here more than ever. You had left his sorry self behind and he must have regretted driving you away. 

But that didn’t take back what you’d heard from him and how you’d been treated. It didn’t take back the feelings of disappointment and humiliation, the constant wishing that things would be different and the depression that followed when you realized things would never change.

Every day in that mansion had been awful, pointless, and heart-breaking. As soon as you had gotten home, you were sure you were in the right place.

You never thought you’d see Todoroki Shoto ever again.

Who’s to say that, once you went back, everything would be fine? What if everything went back to the way it was? What if he was only asking because you were a live-in maid and chef to him, and he just missed that? 

Either way, the answer was clear.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” you said softly, “I don’t want to marry you.”

Shoto flinched like he’d been shot. His eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing in anger.

“You’re going to sign the contract,” He reiterated. 

“No, I’m not. I’m not going back to that life, Shoto. I was miserable in that mansion and I’m not going to willingly walk back into it.”

Shoto stopped for a second, then spat, “Who said anything about ‘willingly’?”

Your expression turned stormy and you spun around, ready to walk away from him. He was a lost cause- a child throwing a tantrum. No way were you going to stick around and humor him.

Suddenly, a wall of ice appeared in your path. Shocked, you turned around to find Shoto with his right arm out as though he was pushing something invisible. 

Fury shot through you like a white-hot knife. Reaching your own hand out, you pressed it against the smooth ice and focused your energy into it.

The giant ice wall shattered into millions of tiny pieces in an instant. You felt a rush of grim victoriousness when you saw Shoto’s wide-eyed expression. He had never bothered to ask what your quirk was, and you had never bothered to tell him.

“If you don’t mind,” you said hotly, “I’ll be leaving now.” 

Shoto responded with a low growl and an air push from his left hand. Now, a wall of fire blocked your path.

“What the hell, Shoto?” you screamed, “You’re going to burn my house down!”

“I don’t care,” came the cold response. Shoto’s heterochromatic glare bored into you and you felt tears well up in your eyes. This was your childhood home! Your parents lived here! You lived here!

You ran to the kitchen and searched for a bowl big enough to fill with water. You had to put out the fire and fast, before it got out of control and burned this place to the ground. But as soon as you had surfaced, holding a mixing bowl victoriously, Shoto made a wall of fire that cut you off from the sink. 

You fled the house, tears running down your face as you abandoned the place you grew up. There was nothing you could do now except run away from Shoto.

But there was no escape. Every way you turned, you were met with fire, until the only way to run was to the red-and-white haired man. Tearfully, you trudged back to him, disappointment weighing heavily on your shoulders.

“You still can’t force me to sign that document,” you said sharply.

“We’ll see about that, (Y/n). We’ll see.”

[mrsstarkeyy]

the front door open, and drew’s heart skips a beat. he watches as his family—his parents, his siblings—file into the house, their eyes bright with excitement. the day has finally arrived, the moment he’s been waiting for since he found out he was going to be a dad. his family is about to meet their new granddaughter, niece, and baby girl, and drew can’t wait for them to finally see her.

his wife, sitting on the couch with their newborn daughter , ariana, in her arms, glances up and gives him a soft smile. the baby, wrapped snugly in a soft, white blanket, is peacefully asleep, her little face just barely visible. drew can’t help but stare at her for a moment, his heart swelling with love for this tiny, perfect human they’ve created together.

“are you ready?” his wife asks, her voice gentle and calm, though drew can hear the excitement behind it.

he nods, still overwhelmed by the moment. “i think so.”

as soon as his mom steps into the living room, her eyes immediately land on the baby. drew’s mom is the first to break the silence, her voice a mix of awe and emotion. “oh, drew,” she says softly, her voice trembling as she steps forward. “she’s beautiful.”

drew smiles, but his chest tightens with emotion. he knows this moment will be one he never forgets—seeing his mom hold his daughter for the first time. He steps aside, letting his mom take the baby into her arms. She cradles the tiny girl like she’s made of glass, her face soft with wonder.

“look at you,” his mom murmurs, her eyes brimming with tears as she gently kisses the baby’s forehead. “you’re perfect, just like your daddy.”

drew’s dad, standing a few steps behind his mom, watches the scene quietly. drew looks at him, and his dad gives him a small but knowing nod. “she’s a lucky little girl,” he says, his voice gruff but full of pride. “and you’re gonna be a hell of a dad.”

drew swallows hard, trying to keep it together. “thanks, dad.”

as his mom continues to hold the baby, drew’s siblings step forward, each eager to meet their niece. his sister, brooke , is the first to take a turn, carefully cradling the baby in her arms. she looks down at her niece with a soft smile, her eyes twinkling with love. “she’s got your eyes, drew,” she says, her voice soft. “i can see it already.”

drew laughs, a little surprised at how much his sister’s words make him swell with pride. He’s never really thought about the little details—his daughter having his eyes or his smile—but hearing it from his sister makes it feel all the more real.

drew’s brother, logan, always the jokester, leans in next, raising an eyebrow. “you sure she’s yours? i think she might’ve gotten her beauty from her mom,” he teases, causing the room to erupt in laughter. drew rolls his eyes but can’t help but laugh along with them. it’s the perfect kind of light-hearted moment after such an intense, emotional day.

“shut up,” Drew says, smiling. “she’s ours, okay?”

his dad steps forward, his arms crossed over his chest, watching with a proud, almost solemn expression as the baby is passed from person to person. “you know, drew,” his dad says, his voice softer now, “you’re not just bringing a new life into the world. you’re carrying on the family. she’s got the starkey name, and that means something. she’s got a lot of love ahead of her.”

drew nods slowly, feeling the weight of his dad’s words sink in. he’s always known what it meant to be a starkey, to be part of this tight-knit, no-nonsense family. but now, looking down at his daughter in his arms for the first time, he realizes the legacy he’s carrying is bigger than just his name. It’s about love, about protecting this little person with everything he has.

his wife leans over to him, whispering in his ear. “she’s perfect, drew. she’s everything.”

drew looks over at her, his eyes soft with admiration and love. he can’t believe this is his life now, this beautiful little family they’ve built together. he pulls her close, his arm around her shoulders, and they both turn to watch as the family takes turns holding their daughter, cooing over her and making plans for the future.

the evening passes in a blur of laughter, stories, and happy tears. drew’s sister , mackayla, holds the baby , her voice full of warmth and pride as she whispers, “she’s is so cute, her and lillian are going to be best friends forever”.

drew stands back for a moment, his eyes on his daughter, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. he’s no longer just the guy on the screen, the actor who gets to live out a thousand different lives. he’s a father. and this little girl, who’s so new to the world, will be his greatest adventure.

when the last family member finally says their goodbyes, the house grows quiet again. Drew and his wife sit on the couch, the baby peacefully asleep in her crib. drew can’t tear his eyes away from her, his hand resting lightly on her tiny chest.

“she’s everything,” drew says quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

his wife nods, her hand resting in his. “we’re everything, drew. this is just the beginning.”

and in that moment, drew knows she’s right. the journey of parenthood has just begun, and with his family by his side, he’s ready for every single moment of it.

[bimbo-baggins17]

Thoughts on BABY DADDY SAM MONROE ‼️🫵🏼🫦

Oof okay, well first I’m gonna plug my beautiful Aga’s work link @anakinstwinklebunny

Immediately I thought of the sound on tiktok of ‘You want a beer?’ ‘He’s four!’ ‘Well I don’t know what to do with him!’

TW: mentions of weight, afab anatomy, Sam being Sam

- If we’re talking pre relationship-mending Sam, he’s not the best dad, sorry. “What do you mean you’re pregnant? I pulled out. Can’t you just abort the thing or whatever?”

- The only reason he’d go along to doctor’s appointments is because his mom would nag him and tell him it’s the right thing to do.

- Did he love you? In his own way yeah, he supposed but that didn’t mean he wanted a baby. He saw how his parents ended up and he didn’t want to be that way with you

- “Babe, where’s my last kit-kat?” You’d ask, searching your normal stash area. Your cravings were in full swing. He wouldn’t bother to look up from the video game he’s playing or magazine he’s reading, “I ate it earlier.” “Seriously Sam?” He’d just shrug like it was no big deal, “Yeah. You can always get another. Relax.”

- He’d begrudgingly rub your swollen feet when you’d ask him to, muttering under his breath occasionally and half ass doing it

- Smoking around you was still common, no matter how much you got onto his ass about it. “Sam, you can’t be doing that. Put it out!” Immediately he’d shake his head, “This is the last bit of my shit and I’m not owing Josh another favor.” “Go outside then if you have to.” “Ugh fine. Whatever ‘mom’.” You swore you were going to have two kids.

- “You’re gaining weight.” He’d point out one day and your heart would sink. “I’m pregnant. I’m supposed to.” “Still. Should try to lose some.”

- “Chicks, man.” He’d groan under his breath when you’d snapped on him for the third time today because he was being inconsiderate again. This time it was some comment about how Alyssa was hot and he’d definitely tap that.

- Something starts to change the second he feels the baby kick for the first time. He’d notice the way your eyes widen and you sit up straighter, “What is it?” “The baby just kicked.” The excitement in your voice was clear enough for him to pick up. He swallows and looks at you for a second before timidly asking, “Can I feel it?”

-It was the first time he really took interest, how could you say no? “Yeah, come here.” He walks over and you take his hands, placing them on the spot where you had felt it last. It’s still for a few seconds and he’s about to pull away when it happens again. His eyes widen and he stares in awe at your belly bump for a moment. Your smile widens as you look up at him. Slowly his own lips curl into a smile, “Wow.” He’d actually created life with you.

- Tries to convince you of some god awful name combinations for your son. Chester Daron, Atticus Taylor, Wes Manson. They’re all name combinations taken from members of his favorite bands.

- He’d get your son band onesies. Slipknot, System of a Down, Marilyn Manson, Linkin Park, Korn, Nine Inch Nails, etc. He’d be the punkest baby.

- He’d be there for the birth. He wanted to barf seeing the different fluids and how your body changes as it pushes the baby out. There’s no way that’s the same pussy he’d spend hours devouring.

- But then hearing your baby cry for the first time, it caused the rest of the shift to happen in him. He was a dad. A dad. Him. He couldn’t believe it. He created life with you. He quickly wipes away the tears that were forming with the back of his hand. “Jesus. You did it. It’s actually here.” “He’s here,” You correct him, “and we did it, Sam.”

- He’d ask to hold your baby, taking it into his arms with a kind of gentleness you’ve never seen from him before. Your son would hold onto one of his ringed fingers, “Wow. Such a tight grip already, little man.” It was a sweet moment, a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at your son. “Gonna show you all the best music. None of that poser shit. I’ll teach you how to roll the best joint too when you’re old enough.” You win some, you lose some.

[atinyslittleworld]

Yeosang meeting his newborn baby

newdad!yeosang x newmom!reader

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: none

Yeosang had always imagined this day, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it. He and his girlfriend had spent months preparing for the arrival of their baby, decorating the nursery, attending prenatal classes, and reading every book they could find on parenting. Yet, as he sat in the living room, idly flipping through a magazine, he realized how surreal it all felt.

His girlfriend, Y/N, was in the kitchen, humming a tune while preparing a snack. She was radiant, her pregnancy glow making her even more beautiful in Yeosang’s eyes. He loved watching her, seeing the way she tenderly cradled her growing belly, already so full of love for their unborn child.

"Yeosang, do you want some fruit?" Y/N called out, breaking Yeosang from his thoughts.

"Sure, that sounds great," he replied, getting up to join her in the kitchen.

Just as he reached the doorway, he saw Y/N’s expression change. She looked down, a mixture of surprise and panic on her face. "Yeosang, I think... I think my water just broke."

For a moment, Yeosang was frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Okay, okay, we need to go to the hospital," he said, trying to stay calm. "Do you have your bag ready?"

Y/N nodded, already moving towards the hallway where their hospital bag was packed and waiting. Yeosang grabbed the keys and helped Y/N to the door, his mind racing with a mix of excitement and fear.

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Yeosang kept glancing over at Y/N, who was breathing through her contractions, her face a mix of determination and discomfort. "You’re doing great, Y/N," he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "We’re almost there."

When they finally arrived at the hospital, the staff quickly took over, whisking Y/N into a wheelchair and guiding them to the maternity ward. Yeosang stayed by her side, holding her hand and offering words of encouragement. He was amazed by her strength and resilience, and it only made him love her more.

As they settled into the delivery room, the reality of what was happening started to sink in for Yeosang. This was it. They were about to become parents. He felt a wave of emotions wash over him—excitement, fear, joy, and love all mixed together.

The hours that followed were intense. Y/N’s contractions grew stronger and closer together, and Yeosang did his best to support her, holding her hand, wiping her forehead, and whispering words of encouragement. He felt helpless at times, wishing he could take away her pain, but knowing that all he could do was be there for her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor announced that it was time to push. Yeosang’s heart raced as he watched Y/N summon all her strength and determination. He held her hand tightly, his own hands shaking with anticipation.

"One more push," the doctor said, and with a final, powerful effort, their baby entered the world. The room filled with the sound of their newborn’s first cries, and Yeosang felt tears streaming down his face. He looked at Y/N, her face a mixture of exhaustion and pure joy, and he knew that this was the most incredible moment of his life.

"She’s here, Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Our baby girl is here."

The nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle into Y/N’s arms, and Yeosang leaned in close, his heart overflowing with love. "She’s perfect," he said, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "We did it, Yeosang," she said softly. "We’re parents."

Yeosang nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of his feelings. He reached out to gently touch his daughter’s tiny hand, marveling at how small and perfect she was. "Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The next few hours were a whirlwind of emotions and activity. The nurses checked their baby, ensuring she was healthy and strong, while Yeosang and Y/N simply watched in awe. They couldn’t take their eyes off her, their hearts so full of love it felt like they might burst.

[youaintnothinbuta]

“Thank you for being brave enough to ask.” — elvis presley x reader

Summary: Elvis and you have been best friends for the longest time, since the beginning of high school. Neither of you have ever dared to confess to the other about the feelings you both have, until one night, you’re complaining about another terrible date, he’s sick of hearing about men that take you for granted and decides finally to ask you out on a date.

Pairing: Elvis Presley / Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 631

Warnings: none!! Fluff <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You let out a frustrated sigh, sinking into the cushions that decorated your bed. “I can’t even tell anyone how bad it was, E, it’s too embarrassing to admit it.” You complained to your best friend, Elvis, about the awful first date you went on a couple days prior.

He lent over the back of your vanity chair, “It can’t have been that bad. He paid, at least, right?”

You shot him an irritated glance, your lack of a response was enough of an answer.

Elvis shook his head in disbelief, his lips forming a thin line of disapproval. “That just ain’t right,” he muttered, his gaze softening as he reached out to squeeze your hand in reassurance. You offered him a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

Suddenly, Elvis straightened up, a determined gleam in his eyes. “Why don't you let me take you out?” he blurted out, his words catching you off guard. You blinked, taken aback by his sudden proposal.

“What? We go out all the time,” You replied, confusion marring your features.

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No, no. I mean a date, a real one, a romantic one,” he clarified, his gaze never wavering from yours. Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You searched his face for any sign of jest, but all you found was sincerity shining in his eyes.

“I...I don't know, Elvis,” You stammered, your mind racing with uncertainty. “We've always been just friends. I don't want to ruin that.”

Elvis reached across to you, his hand finding yours, pulling you to sit up on your bed. “Honey, let me, please, just trust me,” he pleaded, his voice laced with sincerity. You hesitated, he waited through your momentary silence for your response.

Finally, through a little tear welling in your eyes, you whispered, “I'd really love that.”

In an instant, Elvis was by your side, wrapping you up in his comforting embrace. “Why are you upset?” he murmured, concern etched in his features.

You sniffled, “I’m not, I've wanted you to ask me for so long, but I just thought you'd never see me like that.”

His arms tightened around you, offering solace and reassurance. “I've always seen you, sweetheart,” he confessed, his voice soft but sure. “I just didn't know if you felt the same way.” His eyes met yours, everything felt like it was clicking into place. Ever since you met, on the first day of high school, it’s always been you and him. Neither of you knew any of the only kids when starting high school, so you found comfort in each other and had been inseparable ever since. Your families got to know each other, too, and his parents became good friends with yours over time.

The following days were a whirlwind of anticipation and excitement, he’d made sure to keep real tight lipped about what he was planning for you.

Friday night finally rolled around, he was at your place at 7 on the dot, and of course, not without flowers in his hand. Elvis spared no effort in making sure you had the perfect time. He took you to one of your favourite restaurants, and got ice cream afterwards.

As the evening drew to a close, you found yourselves strolling along the riverbank, hand in hand, the gentle lull of the water and the active city serenading you. Elvis turned to you, his eyes shimmering with affection. “Thank you for giving me a chance, for trusting me,” he said.

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "Thank you for being brave enough to ask."

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, with an overwhelming feeling that something that had been quietly waiting in the wings, was finally ready to blossom.

[gyutopia]

world of sinners vii | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft brother sungchan & heesung

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 10.8k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy, slight talk about childhood trauma, lots and lots of kissing.

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The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you begin to wake. The first thing you notice is Jake's arms securely wrapped around you, his body warm and comforting against yours. You shift slightly, your movement causing him to stir as well. His hold tightens, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

“Good morning,” he mumbles, his voice deep and raspy with sleep.

You smile, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there’s a soft, loving look in them as he gazes at you. “Good morning,” you reply, reaching up to brush a few stray strands of hair from his forehead.

Jake’s hand starts to trace slow, lazy circles on your back, his touch gentle and soothing. “It feels like a dream,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with awe. “Waking up like this… with you in my arms.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There’s so much love in his gaze, so much depth and emotion that it nearly takes your breath away. “We’ve come so far, haven’t we?” you whisper, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his face.

Jake nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “We really have,” he agrees. “I can’t believe it. Everything we’ve been through… and now, here we are. Together.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, letting the weight of those words sink in. You think back to everything you’ve faced together—the threats, the fears, the moments of doubt. But also the laughter, the joy, the way you’ve grown closer with every obstacle. It’s been a journey, and you know it’s far from over, but right now, in this quiet morning light, you feel like you’ve reached a milestone. A place of security and love that you never imagined could be possible.

Jake’s fingers brush along your jaw, tilting your face up toward his. “I wouldn’t trade any of it,” he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Every moment, every struggle, it’s all been worth it to get to where we are now.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they’re tears of happiness, of overwhelming love. “I wouldn’t either,” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m so grateful for you, Jake. For everything you do, for how much you love me. I never imagined I could feel this way.”

He tightens his hold on you, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield. “You’re everything to me,” Jake whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “And I promise I’ll keep doing everything I can to make you happy.”

You lift your head to look at him, your heart swelling with love. “You already make me happy, Jake. Every single day. I don’t need anything else.”

He gazes at you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. “You deserve the world,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving it to you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You lean down, pressing your forehead against his. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

Jake’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes. “I love you too,” he replies, his voice equally soft. He pulls you down for a kiss, and you can feel the love and tenderness in every movement of his lips.

The kiss is slow and unhurried, filled with all the emotions you’ve both been feeling. His hand trails down your back, and you shiver at the sensation. As the kiss deepens, you feel a warmth spreading through your body, a familiar heat building between you.

Jake’s lips move to your jawline, trailing soft kisses down to your neck. He nips at your skin gently, and you let out a quiet gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Jake,” you murmur, your voice a mix of longing and affection.

He hums against your skin, his hands wandering lower. “Hmm?” he responds, his voice deep and filled with desire. “Just let me take care of you…”

You’re about to reply when the sound of your phone vibrating on the nightstand breaks through the haze of warmth and affection. Jake groans in frustration, his lips still pressed against your neck. “Ignore it,” he mumbles, his voice slightly muffled as he continues his kisses.

You let out a soft laugh, gently pushing against his chest. “Jake, we can’t just ignore it,” you say, though there’s a playful note in your voice. You reach over to grab your phone, but he catches your wrist, his eyes dark with desire as he tries to pull you back to him.

“Come on,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again. “It’s probably nothing important.”

You manage to twist in his grasp and grab the phone, glancing at the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the caller ID. “It’s Yerin,” you say, holding up the phone.

Jake pauses, a small frown forming on his lips. “Yerin?” he echoes, his brow furrowing slightly. He finally releases his hold on you, letting out a sigh of resignation. “Why is she calling?”

You swallow the unease rising in your throat and answer the call, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hello?” you say, your voice edged with caution. “Yerin?”

“Good morning,” Yerin’s voice comes through, smooth and detached. There’s no warmth in her tone, just a cold, measured cadence. “I trust I’m not interrupting anything important.”

You glance at Jake, who is watching you with a mix of tension and curiosity. “No, not at all,” you reply, forcing yourself to remain steady. “I just wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Is everything alright?”

There’s a pause on the other end, the kind that makes you feel as though she’s assessing you, weighing every word. “Everything is fine,” Yerin says eventually, though her tone suggests otherwise. “I thought it appropriate to check in. How is the pregnancy progressing?”

Your heart skips a beat. You had hoped the pregnancy story you spun would be enough to keep Yerin at a distance, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. Quickly, you compose yourself, leaning into the narrative you’ve woven. “It’s… progressing,” you say, allowing a faint sigh to escape your lips. “The morning sickness has been rough—worse than I expected. I’ve barely been able to keep anything down.”

Yerin’s silence stretches, thick and oppressive, before she speaks again, her voice laced with a subtle edge. “I see. I’m sure Jake has been doing his part, taking care of you. He’s always had a way of getting too involved in matters.”

You bristle at her thinly veiled jab but keep your tone light. “He’s been wonderful, really. I’m lucky to have him.” You emphasize the last part, hoping to deflect some of her bitterness.

A cold hum is the only response you receive, the sound low and calculating. “Indeed. Well, I’ll be arriving shortly for brunch. I expect to be there within the hour.”

Your heart stops momentarily, shock rippling through you. “You’re coming over?” You try to keep your voice even, but the surprise seeps through.

“Yes,” Yerin replies, her tone indicating that it’s not up for debate. “I assume that won’t be a problem? I’d hate to disrupt your ‘rest,’ but it’s important that we have a conversation.”

You scramble to regain composure, forcing a polite tone. “Of course. I just… wasn’t expecting company. I’ll do my best to get ready.”

“You should rest,” Yerin counters, a hint of mock concern in her voice. “I won’t be long. We’ll talk, and then you can go back to taking care of yourself.”

“Right,” you say, feeling cornered. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Good,” she says, her tone clipped and final. “I’ll be there shortly.”

The line goes dead, and you slowly lower the phone, still trying to process the conversation. Jake’s eyes are fixed on you, concern deepening as he reads the confusion and unease on your face. He reaches out, his hand finding yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“What did she say?” he asks gently, his voice low as if not to startle you.

You blink, coming back to the present moment. “She’s coming over,” you say, the words feeling strange on your tongue. “She wants to have brunch and… talk.”

“Talk?” Jake echoes, his brows knitting together. “About what?”

You shake your head, frustration and confusion bubbling up inside you. “I don’t know, she didn’t say. Just that she wouldn’t stay long.” You pause, biting your lip as a thought occurs to you. “Do you think she’s caught on? About the bugs we had Jungwon plant?”

Jake’s expression hardens, the playful warmth from earlier vanishing as he considers the possibility. “I don’t think so,” he says after a moment. “If she had, I doubt she’d just show up for a chat. But I’ll check in with Jungwon, just to be sure.”

You nod, feeling a little better at his reassurance, but the anxiety still simmers beneath the surface. Jake gives your hand another squeeze before releasing it, his voice softening as he says, “Come on, let’s get ready. We’ll figure this out.”

You manage a small smile and follow him as he leads you toward the bathroom. The tension in your shoulders starts to ease as you settle into the familiar routine of getting ready together. Jake’s presence is a comfort, his calm demeanor helping to ground you.

As you both stand side by side at the sink, Jake hands you your toothbrush with a small, playful grin. “Think she’ll be impressed by our synchronized brushing?”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “She’ll probably criticize our technique.”

“Let her,” Jake replies, his tone teasing. “We’ll dazzle her with our perfect coordination.”

You can’t help but smile as you start brushing your teeth together, the mundane act surprisingly comforting in the midst of the morning’s uncertainty. Jake catches your eye in the mirror, giving you a small wink that makes you laugh again.

After brushing your teeth, Jake moves to the shower, turning on the water and testing the temperature. He looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Care to join me?”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Are you trying to distract me, Mr. Sim?”

“Absolutely Mrs. Sim,” he says without missing a beat, reaching for your hand to pull you into the shower. “And I’ll do a good job of it, too.”

You can’t argue with that, and soon the warm water is cascading over both of you, washing away the last of your lingering tension. Jake is gentle, his touch soft and comforting as he washes your body. It’s moments like this that remind you just how much he cares, how much he wants to protect you from anything that might cause you stress.

“Thank you,” you whisper as he rinses your body.

“For what?” he asks, his voice low as he leans in to press a kiss to your temple.

“For always knowing what I need,” you reply, turning to look at him. “Even when I don’t know it myself.”

Jake smiles, a soft, loving expression that makes your heart swell. “I’m just doing what I can to take care of you,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”

The shower becomes a tender exchange of affection, each touch, each kiss filled with unspoken words of love and support. By the time you step out, your earlier anxieties have been replaced by a warm sense of security. You both take your time drying off, the simple act of helping each other with towels becoming another quiet expression of your bond.

Jake, ever the thoughtful partner, starts rummaging through his side of the closet as you begin your skincare routine. You catch him glancing over at you, a contemplative look on his face.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you ask with a smile as you apply moisturizer.

Jake grins, holding up one of his oversized hoodies. “I was thinking… Can I dress you today?”

You burst out laughing, the idea of Jake playing stylist both endearing and amusing. “You want to dress me?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he says, his tone serious but playful. “You’re ‘pregnant’, right? Comfort over anything else.”

You shake your head, still laughing but touched by his suggestion. “Yerin’s going to have something to say about me wearing your clothes instead of dressing up.”

“She’ll have something to say no matter what,” Jake counters, stepping closer and holding the hoodie out to you. “Besides, I think you look beautiful in my clothes.”

You pretend to think about it, but the truth is, you’re already sold on the idea. There’s something incredibly intimate about wearing his clothes, especially when you know it’s for his comfort as much as yours. “Alright,” you say, taking the hoodie from him. “But if she makes a snide comment, I’m blaming you.”

Jake chuckles, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Deal.”

You slip on the hoodie, the soft fabric enveloping you in warmth, and you can’t help but smile at how it practically swallows you whole. It’s cozy, and despite the situation, it makes you feel safe. Jake watches you with a satisfied grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

As you finish getting dressed, the two of you hear a soft knock on the door, signaling that Yerin has arrived. Your heart skips a beat, but Jake is quick to grab your hand, squeezing it gently. “Ready?” he asks, his voice steady.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, taking a deep breath as you head downstairs with Jake by your side.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see one of the housekeepers opening the front door for Yerin. She steps inside with the air of someone who expects the world to bend to her will. Her posture is as straight and poised as ever, her eyes as sharp as knives as they sweep across the foyer, taking in every detail. The moment her gaze lands on you, her eyes narrow slightly, lingering on your oversized hoodie. But before she can comment, you notice something unusual: a decent sized chest in her hand, intricately carved and clearly old. Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to remain composed, deciding not to ask about it just yet.

Jake steps forward, his tone polite but wary. “Mother,” he greets, gently guiding you to stand beside him. “Thank you for coming.”

Yerin’s smile is a little too perfect, her demeanor uncharacteristically warm. “Jake,” she responds, her voice honeyed. “It’s good to see you. It’s been too long.” She glances around the house with an approving nod, then turns her attention back to Jake. “You’ve got a lovely home here.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by her sudden amiability. “Thank you,” he replies cautiously. He exchanges a quick glance with you, as if trying to gauge your reaction to this new, unsettling version of his stepmother.

Yerin doesn’t miss a beat. “And you, my dear,” she says, turning to you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Pregnancy seems to agree with you. You’re positively glowing.”

You offer a polite smile in return, the unease bubbling beneath the surface. Yerin has never been one to dole out compliments, especially not to you. “Thank you,” you manage, feeling the need to tread carefully.

Yerin continues, making an effort at small talk, something she rarely does. “Jake, how’s the business going? I hear we’re expected to receive a five percent bump in the next quarter.”

Jake nods, clearly suspicious but unwilling to show it. “Yes, we’ve been doing well,” he replies. “The team’s been working hard.”

She nods approvingly, as if she’s genuinely interested, but there’s something about her tone that feels calculated. “That’s good to hear,” she says. “Your father is proud.”

Jake’s grip on your hand tightens slightly, a subtle sign that he’s not entirely buying her act. “Thank you, Mother,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Yerin then turns to you with that same unsettling smile. “I’d like to spend some time with you, dear. One-on-one, if you don’t mind,” she says, her tone light, almost too casual. “It’s important for us to get to know each other better.”

You feel Jake stiffen beside you, his protective instincts flaring. “I’d prefer to stay,” he interjects. “The pregnancy has been taking a toll, and I’d feel better if I were here.”

Yerin’s smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a hint of something sharper in her eyes now. “Jake, I gave birth to Heeseung,” she says, her voice calm but firm. “I’m more than capable of looking after her. Besides, it’s only right that she and I have some time to talk, don’t you think?”

Jake hesitates, clearly torn. You can sense his reluctance, his unwillingness to leave you alone with her. But he knows better than to push back too hard, especially when Yerin is being this... diplomatic. With a sigh, he relents. “Alright,” he agrees, though his tone betrays his dismay. He turns to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be in the study if you need anything,” he says softly, his eyes conveying a silent promise to return if things go awry.

You watch him go, feeling a knot of unease tighten in your stomach. Yerin’s sudden shift in demeanor is unsettling, and you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to her visit than she’s letting on. Once Jake is out of sight, you turn to Yerin, trying to mask your discomfort.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing toward the kitchen, forcing a smile.

Yerin follows you, her eyes still roaming the house as if she’s evaluating it, judging it. Once in the kitchen, you move to put on a pot of tea, trying to steady your hands as you do so. The silence between you is thick, almost suffocating, but before it can stretch too long, Yerin surprises you again by attempting to make conversation.

“How have you been feeling?” she asks, her tone carefully measured. “Pregnancy can be such a trying time, especially in the early months.”

You glance at her, wary but trying not to show it. “I’ve been managing,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral. “There are good days and bad days, but Jake’s been very supportive.”

Yerin nods, as if this is exactly what she expected to hear. “That’s good. You’re lucky to have him by your side. He’s always been such a strong, reliable boy,” she says, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s actually sincere. But there’s an edge to her voice that makes you doubt it.

As you wait for the water to boil, Yerin’s eyes land on a canvas propped against the far wall, one of your unfinished paintings. “I see you’re still working on your art,” she comments, her voice casual, almost offhand. “I heard Jaeyun is opening up an art sector for your works.”

You blink, taken aback by the fact that she even remembers your interest in the fine arts. Yerin has never shown the slightest interest in you let alone your artwork before. “Yes, I am and he is,” you say slowly, unsure of where this is going.

Yerin tilts her head slightly, as if considering something. “It must be challenging to find the time now, with the baby on the way and all. But it’s good that you’re still pursuing your passions.”

You nod, feeling more and more unsettled by the second. “It helps to keep me sane” you admit, wondering if there’s an ulterior motive behind her sudden interest.

The kettle whistles, cutting through the tension like a knife. You busy yourself with preparing the tea, grateful for the distraction. As you pour the steaming liquid into two delicate cups, you can’t help but wonder what game Yerin is playing. Her demeanor is too pleasant, too... nice. And Yerin is never nice without a reason.

Once the tea is ready, you bring the cups to the table, setting one in front of Yerin and one for yourself. She takes a sip, her eyes never leaving you, and you feel like a specimen under a microscope.

Finally, Yerin sets her cup down and reaches for the small chest she had been holding earlier. Without a word, she slides it across the table toward you, her expression unreadable.

You slowly put down your own cup, your heart pounding in your chest. “What is this for?” you ask, your voice carefully neutral.

Yerin’s smile is still in place, but there’s something almost predatory in her eyes now. “It’s a chest filled with things Jake’s mother left behind for him,” she explains, her tone soft, almost too soft. “It was meant to be given to him once he got married.”

The revelation takes you completely by surprise. You blink, trying to process the information. “Why are you giving this to me?” you ask, suspicion creeping into your voice.

Yerin sighs, as if the answer should be obvious. “We were instructed to give it to Jake once he was married, but his father thought it would be a hindrance, make him weak, so he decided to hide it away. I thought it would be a nice surprise for the two of you, especially now that you’re expecting. It’s only appropriate.”

You hesitate, your mind racing. This is the last thing you expected from Yerin, and you’re not sure how to react. The chest likely contains items that will mean the world to Jake, perhaps the last things his mother left behind before she was killed. The weight of the decision presses down on you—should you open it now, or wait for Jake? But curiosity wins out, and with trembling hands, you unlatch the chest and lift the lid.

Inside, you find letters upon letters, baby clothes and shoes that must have belonged to Jake, and pictures of Jake and his mother when he was younger. Your heart aches as you take in the contents, your eyes skimming a letter addressed to “the one my son chooses.” Though it doesn’t explicitly bear your name, the intent is clear. You’re absolutely shocked, unable to hide your emotions as you think about how much joy this will bring Jake.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice thick with emotion.

Yerin hums in response, taking another sip of her tea as she examines you, her eyes narrowing slightly. There’s something about her gaze that makes your skin prickle, as if she’s sizing you up, waiting for something. The air is thick with tension, and you can’t shake the feeling that Yerin’s pleasant demeanor is just a facade.

Then, with a delicate clink, she sets her teacup down and leans back in her chair, her smile fading. The air around her seems to chill, the warmth draining from her expression.

“Let’s drop the coy act, shall we?” she says, her voice smooth as silk, but laced with something cold and dangerous. The shift is so sudden, so jarring, that it takes you a moment to process. All at once, the real Yerin.

You can’t help but scoff lightly at her sudden change in tone, but you don’t back down. Instead, you sit up straighter in your chair, meeting her gaze head-on. "I’m sure you know why I’m here," she continues, her voice smooth and full of confidence.

You tilt your head slightly, genuinely puzzled. "Whatever do you mean?" you ask, keeping your tone even. You have a feeling that she’s here to ask for something, or perhaps she’s aware that you and Jake are on to her, but you’re not about to give away anything just yet.

Yerin’s lips curl into a smirk, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. "I’m not stupid. I know you’re on to me," she says, her voice dripping with condescension.

Her words catch you off guard, but you force yourself not to react. Internally, your mind is racing. How much does she know? Should you admit it, or continue playing dumb? The weight of the decision presses on you, but after a moment, you decide that the truth might be the best leverage you have right now. She’s clearly here with an agenda, and perhaps you can use that to your advantage.

“…Yes. I am,” you admit, your voice firm, locking eyes with her to convey that you’re not afraid.

Yerin doesn’t miss a beat. “Good,” she says, her tone as smooth as silk. “Then I’ll get straight to the point. I want you to join me.”

You scoff again, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. “Join you?” you echo, incredulous. “Have you forgotten the hit you put on me?”

Yerin waves her hand dismissively, “That wasn’t me,” she says casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Her response throws you off balance. You stare at her, confused. “What do you mean it wasn’t you?” you ask, suspicion and disbelief mingling in your voice. Of all the people who would benefit from your elimination, Yerin seemed like the most obvious culprit.

Yerin’s expression turns cold, her eyes narrowing. “The hit wasn’t meant for you,” she explains, her tone clipped. “It was meant for Jaeyun.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you process her words. “But why would—”

“Heeseung,” Yerin interrupts, her voice laced with disdain. “He was impulsive, reckless. He disregarded my direct orders to sit tight and decided to take matters into his own hands. The fool thought he could eliminate Jaeyun and make his move, despite knowing how dangerous that would be.”

You mull over her words, the pieces slowly falling into place. It does make sense—Heeseung has always been ambitious, desperate to prove himself, but his impatience has always been his downfall. You remember Jake telling you about how Heeseung was constantly trying to one-up him during the time the throne was up for grabs. But it’s one thing to suspect Heeseung of being reckless; it’s another to hear it confirmed by Yerin herself.

“And what about the second hit?” you ask, your voice hardening. “The one meant for me and my baby?”

Yerin smirks, her eyes gleaming with something dark. “Water under the bridge?” she suggests, her tone light, almost playful, as if the attempt on your life were some trivial matter.

You’re completely unamused by her response, your expression turning stony. Yerin sighs, as if disappointed that you didn’t find her little joke funny. “I underestimated you,” she admits, her tone begrudgingly respectful. “You’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.”

You don’t comment on her backhanded compliment, your mind racing with all the implications of what she’s revealed. Instead, you decide to hit her where it hurts. “Jaehee will kill you when he finds out what you’ve done,” you say coldly, knowing full well the truth of your words.

But Yerin doesn’t flinch. In fact, she looks like she was counting on this response. “You won’t say anything,” she counters smoothly, her voice dripping with certainty. “Because that would mean admitting that Sungchan slept with me. And we both know Jaehee would definitely kill him if he found out.”

Her words hang in the air, a challenge laid bare between the two of you. For a moment, she seems to think she’s won, that she’s backed you into a corner. But you’ve already anticipated this. You know the stakes, and you know how much Yerin is underestimating you right now.

“My brother made his bed,” you say, your tone icy, your expression unwavering. “He should lie in it.”

Your response visibly rocks Yerin. You can see the brief flicker of shock in her eyes, the way her composed facade cracks for just a moment. She thought Sungchan would be the one thing she could hold over your head, the one leverage she could use to control you. But now, she realizes she’s severely misjudged you.

It takes her only a second to recover, masking her shock with a cold smile. “Ruthless,” she remarks, her tone almost admiring. “That’s what I need. Not someone weak or impulsive like the men surrounding us.”

You shake your head, not buying into her attempt to flatter you. “What about Heeseung?” you ask pointedly. “Aren’t you doing all of this so he can take over?”

Yerin sighs, taking a deliberate sip of her tea before responding. “That was the original plan,” she admits, her voice tinged with disappointment. “But Heeseung has proven himself to be reckless and a liability. I need someone who’s calculated, trustworthy, and seen as an underdog—someone like me to work in the background alongside him.”

You nod, understanding where she’s coming from, but you’re not convinced. “And Jake?” you press, needing to know where her loyalties truly lie.

Yerin’s lips curl into a knowing smile. “I don’t need Jake,” she says, her tone matter-of-fact. “And neither do you. In this game, Jake may be the king, but the king is nothing without the queen. And I know you’re the one who’s been controlling Jake, guiding his moves. Why let all that power go to waste over a man?”

Her words cut deep and send a chill down your spine, Heeseung said the exact same to you the night of your wedding. You don’t let it show how much the words have rocked you, instead, you sit there, processing everything she’s said. Before you can respond, Yerin stands, her movements graceful and deliberate. She’s ready to leave, the conversation clearly over in her mind. But as she turns to go, she tosses her phone onto the table, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

“Oh, and the next time you decide to tap my phone, do make sure it’s untraceable,” she says, her voice laced with condescension.

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you react. Yerin smirks, clearly pleased with herself, and then she turns on her heel and strides out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You watch her go. Yerin’s proposal hangs in the air, a disturbing truth to where her allegiance lies, with herself. She truly is just as ruthless as you thought her to be but more than that, you’re left with the knowledge that this battle is far from over. Yerin is playing a dangerous game, and if you’re going to survive, you’ll have to be just as ruthless as she is.

The door clicks shut behind her, and you’re left in the heavy silence of the kitchen, Yerin’s phone still lying on the table like a taunt. You glance at it, your mind already working through the possibilities. You knew Yerin was dangerous, but now you’re certain—this is a war, and you’ll have to play every card right if you want to come out on top.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your thoughts, and a moment later, Jake steps into the kitchen. His eyes immediately go to the phone on the table before they shift to you, concern etched on his face.

“What happened?”

You take a deep breath, still processing the encounter. “Yerin tried to recruit me,” you say, the words sounding surreal even as they leave your lips.

Jake’s eyes widen in shock. “Recruit you?” He can’t hide his disbelief. “Does she know we’re onto her?”

You nod slowly, your thoughts already two steps ahead. “Yes. She knows. She also knows about the tap we had Jungwon put on her phone.”

Jake’s expression shifts from shock to something more focused, more dangerous. “But why would she want to recruit you? Isn’t this all for Heeseung?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “I don’t think so. She said Heeseung is impulsive, I doubt she’d willingly hand everything to him now.”

Jake pauses, his mind clearly racing as he tries to piece together the puzzle. “You don’t think…” His voice trails off, his thoughts moving faster than he can articulate them.

“What are you thinking?” you prompt, watching as the realization begins to dawn on him.

“Yerin is always ten steps ahead,” Jake says slowly, his tone filled with a dawning horror. “She wouldn’t offer you this position unless she was planning on getting rid of Heeseung completely.”

Then it clicks, the horrifying truth settling over both of you like a shroud. “She’s going to kill him,” you say, your voice low. “And take all the power for herself. This was a distraction! She’s counting on us trying to figure out her motive so she can eliminate the last obstacles in her path!”

Jake’s face hardens with resolve. “We need to call Heeseung,” he says. “He’s probably next on her hit list.”

Without another word, Jake pulls out his phone and hurries out of the room to make the call. The urgency in his movements mirrors the urgency you feel in your chest. But as Jake’s footsteps fade, your gaze drifts back to the chest Yerin had brought earlier. The memories inside are precious, and you don’t want Jake’s attention to be divided. He deserves to have all the time in the world to reminisce about his mother’s keepsakes without the looming threat of Yerin overshadowing everything.

Carefully, you pick up the chest and carry it to your bedroom. Finding a safe spot in the closet, you tuck it away where it won’t be disturbed. For now, it’s best if Jake’s focus remains solely on the danger at hand. You’ll revisit it when the time is right—when Jake can afford to let his guard down.

Returning downstairs, you find Jake in the sitting room, pacing anxiously. The phone is still in his hand, and he’s tapping it nervously against his thigh. The silence between you is heavy, laden with the knowledge of what’s about to happen.

The doorbell rings, cutting through the tension like a knife. Jake moves to answer it, and a moment later, Heeseung strides into the room. He’s as confident as ever, a smug grin playing on his lips as he looks between you and Jake.

“What’s going on?” Heeseung asks, his voice dripping with amusement as he looks between you and Jake. His demeanor is as smug as ever, and you can tell he isn’t aware of the situation.

Heeseung smirks as he saunters into the room, making a show of looking around. “I see you’re still playing house,” he says, his tone condescending. He then turns his gaze to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “So, how did you enjoy your stay in jail? I hear the accommodations aren’t exactly five-star.”

You bite back a retort, forcing yourself to remain calm. Jake, however, seems less inclined to humor his brother’s arrogance.

“Heeseung, this isn’t a joke,” Jake says firmly, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. “We know what you and Yerin are up to. We know about Sungchan, the shipments, the hits. All of it.”

For a moment, Heeseung’s smug expression falters, but he quickly recovers, letting out a scoff. “And what exactly do you plan to do with that information? Turn me in? Or maybe you’d rather end things now and hand over the family business?”

Before Jake can respond, you step forward, your patience wearing thin. “Yerin is going to kill you,” you state bluntly, cutting through the tension with cold precision.

Heeseung stares at you for a moment, and then bursts into laughter, a genuine, deep laugh that echoes through the room. “Kill me? You’re delusional. Why would my own mother kill me?”

Jake remains silent, his eyes narrowing as he watches his brother. When the laughter finally dies down, Jake speaks, his tone steady. “Yerin is doing this for herself, and for power. It was never going to be fully yours.”

Heeseung’s smile falters, just a little. “What are you saying?”

Jake takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Yerin offered, ____ your position,” he nods toward you, “just a few minutes ago.”

The smile drops from Heeseung’s face entirely, replaced by something more calculating, more dangerous. “Fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. The reality of the situation is sinking in, and for the first time, Heeseung looks truly shaken.

“What now?” he asks, the bravado gone from his voice, replaced by a genuine uncertainty.

Jake looks back, his hand finding its way to yours and entwines them, grounding both of you. “You can have it,” Jake says quietly. “If you want it, I’ll give it to you. You just have to promise me that nothing will happen to my family. Nothing can happen to her.”

Before you can say anything, Heeseung cuts in, disbelief coloring his words. “You’re serious? You’re willing to give up all this power and respect…for your wife?”

Jake fully turns to you, his expression softening as he smiles. Leaning in, he kisses you softly, a gentle brush of lips that conveys more love and certainty than words ever could. “I have everything I could ever need,” he says, his voice filled with quiet conviction.

The sincerity in his tone, the warmth in his eyes—everything about this moment touches you deeply. Heeseung sees it too, and for a moment, the cold, calculating demeanor fades, replaced by the brother Jake grew up with—the one who was kind, who had dreams beyond the family business.

Heeseung sighs, the fight leaving him. “Alright,” he says, his voice resigned but tinged with something softer. “I’ll turn on her. I’ll make sure nothing happens to your family.”

Jake nods, his relief evident as he pulls out his phone again. “I’ll make the calls,” he says, walking into the sitting room. He dials his father’s number first, asking him to come over immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument. Once he’s done, he calls Jay, instructing him to keep an eye on Yerin, to make sure she doesn’t try to pull anything before they can set the plan in motion.

As Jake moves to make the next set of arrangements, you glance at Heeseung. He’s leaning back against a pillar, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling over him. Despite everything, there’s a sense of finality to the moment.

You take a deep breath, deciding to approach him. As much as the past few months have been tense between the brothers, you know there’s still a bond there, something that’s worth saving. “He misses you, you know?” you say softly, drawing Heeseung’s attention. He lowers his gaze from the ceiling, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, though there’s a hint of guarded curiosity in his tone.

You take a step closer, choosing your words carefully. “Jake. He misses you,” you clarify, meeting his gaze. “Despite everything that’s happened, you still mean a lot to him. He’s missed his older brother. He just doesn’t know how to reach out anymore. Maybe… maybe it’s not too late for you two to fix things.”

Heeseung remains silent for a moment, the tension in his expression softening just slightly. He’s listening, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. “You really think that?” he finally asks, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than you’ve heard in a long time.

You nod. “I do. But it’s going to take effort, Heeseung. Jake might not show it, but he’s hurting. He needs his brother… the one who used to be his hero. You can still be that person to him, if you try.”

Heeseung’s gaze falters for a moment before he looks away, a deep frown settling on his face. It’s clear that your words have struck a chord, but he’s not ready to admit it out loud. "It’s not that simple," he mutters, but there’s a hint of doubt in his voice now, like maybe, just maybe, he’s considering it.

“You’re right," you agree, not pushing him further. "But nothing worth having is ever simple."

Satisfied that you’ve planted the seed, you offer him a small, encouraging smile before excusing yourself. “I’m going to get some snacks. I’ll be back in a few,” you say, giving him a chance to sit with his thoughts.

In the kitchen, you start putting together a finger food board, carefully arranging slices of fruit, cheeses, and crackers. As you work, the sound of muffled voices drifts in from the living room. You pause for a moment, recognizing the familiar tones—Heeseung and Jake.

At first, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but soon enough, the quiet murmur of conversation turns into something you didn’t expect: laughter. The sound is warm, genuine, and for a moment, you find yourself smiling. Maybe your words got through to Heeseung after all.

Before you can finish the snack board, Rose walks into the kitchen, her expression one of gentle insistence. “I’ll take over from here,” she says, giving you a pointed look that says she knows exactly what’s happening in the other room. You hesitate for a moment, but then nod, allowing her to take over as you wipe your hands on a nearby towel and head back to the living room.

As you step out of the kitchen, you hear a knock at the front door. You know immediately who it is— Jaehee. Taking a deep breath, you walk over to the door and open it, greeting him with a polite smile. His eyes soften as he sees you, his usual stern demeanor tempered by the thought that you’re carrying his future grandchild.

"How’s my grandchild doing?" he asks, his voice full of genuine warmth and excitement.

Your stomach twists at the mention of the baby—a lie you know you’ll have to address soon—but for now, you play along. "Doing well," you reply with a tight-lipped smile, quickly changing the subject. "We’ve got some important news to discuss. Jake’s in the living room."

"Important news, huh? Jake sounded pretty cryptic on the phone," Jaehee comments as he follows you inside, his curiosity piqued.

Rose passes by with the snack board just as you’re ushering Jaehee into the living room. When you reach the living room, you find Jake and Heeseung sitting side by side on the couch, the television playing a football match in the background. They’re laughing, relaxed, sharing a moment that feels both foreign and familiar. It’s a sight you haven’t ever seen, and judging by the look on Jaehee’s face, it’s one he hasn’t seen in a while.

Jaehee is the first to break the silence, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Well, this is a welcomed surprise,” he comments, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jake and Heeseung look up from the snacks they’ve been munching on, both grinning like kids caught in the middle of some harmless mischief. "Yeah, it’s been a long time coming," Jake says, his eyes meeting Heeseung’s with a mix of relief and fondness.

Heeseung clears his throat, the moment of vulnerability passing as he stands up, Jake following suit. Jaehee’s expression turns serious again as he addresses them both. "So, what’s this about? While I like seeing you two get along, I doubt this was a social call."

The mood in the room shifts slightly, the weight of the situation returning as the three of them prepare to explain. Jake takes a deep breath and begins. “We’ve uncovered some things… things about what Yerin has been doing behind the scenes,” he starts, his tone serious.

Heeseung jumps in, backing up Jake’s words with his own account of what he’s uncovered. "She’s been running operations behind our backs, consolidating power for herself." As they go on, you can see Jaehee’s expression darkening, his anger barely contained as he listens to the full extent of Yerin’s betrayal.

When they finally finish explaining, you decide to step in, knowing that the next part might be the hardest for Jaehee to accept. “There’s one more thing,” you say, drawing everyone’s attention. “Yerin… she had an advantage because she was sleeping with my brother. He was manipulated by her, doing everything for my sake. Please, Jaehee, leave him out of this. He doesn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.”

Jaehee’s eyes flash with anger, his jaw tightening as he processes your words. But then, surprisingly, you see a hint of something else in his expression—perhaps a begrudging respect for you all. “Impressive,” he finally says, his tone measured. “The lengths you were all willing to go.”

He turns to Heeseung, his gaze sharp. “But let me make this clear. The decision is final. The syndicate belongs to Jake. He’s proven that he’s the right one for the job.”

Before Heeseung can react, Jake cuts in, his voice firm but calm. “Actually, I’m giving it to Heeseung,” he says, causing everyone in the room to pause. “He’s always wanted it more than I did. I’ll remain in control of our legitimate businesses, but the mafia… that’s his.”

Jaehee stares at Jake in shock, unable to hide his disbelief. “Why are you giving it away? After everything Heeseung’s done… he tried to kill you!”

Jake’s expression softens as he glances at you, his hand reaching out to squeeze yours. “Because it’s not worth it,” he says quietly, but with conviction. “I never wanted it to begin with. I’ve found something much more important in my life. I’ve found love.”

Jaehee’s gaze shifts between the two of you, and he finally nods, though there’s still a lingering tension in his eyes. “Very well,” he says, turning to you. “But I can’t let Sungchan go scott-free. It won’t send the right message, he still slept with my wife. There will be consequences—a tax on all future imports.”

You nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. “Thank you,” you reply, relieved that the punishment is at least somewhat lenient.

Jaehee’s expression darkens again as he turns back to Heeseung. “And as for Yerin… I’ll deal with her.” You all know what that means, it’s clear—Jaehee plans to kill her.

Heeseung steps forward, a mix of defiance and desperation in his voice. “Is that really necessary? She’s still my mother.”

Jaehee scoffs, his voice cold. “Need I remind you of the hit she’s placed on your head? On Jake’s head? On your unborn nephew’s head?”

The truth of Jaehee’s words hangs in the air, heavy and undeniable. You can feel the tension rising again, and in a moment of nervousness, you let out a small laugh, cutting through the silence. "Actually... I’m not really pregnant," you admit, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and relief. "It was a ploy to get Yerin to show her hand."

Jaehee huffs, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your confession. But then, surprisingly, a hint of admiration flickers in his gaze. “Impressive,” he repeats.

Heeseung, sensing the thick tension in the room, tilts his head and gives you a half-smirk. “Well, I’m glad you’re not pregnant,” he quips, his voice light. “I was starting to worry how we’d ever explain the lack of resemblance between the baby and Jake.”

A chuckle escapes Jake, and even Jaehee’s stern expression softens, a begrudging smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The air in the room lightens a bit, the tension easing just enough to make everyone feel like they could breathe again.

Jaehee shakes his head, the hint of a smile still lingering. “You all certainly know how to keep things interesting,” he says, more to himself than to anyone else. He looks between Jake and Heeseung, his gaze lingering on his sons. There’s a sense of pride there, mingled with the frustration and disappointment that had clouded his features earlier. Finally, he nods, as if coming to a conclusion. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he says, turning to head for the door. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Jake and Heeseung stand side by side, watching their father leave. As the door closes behind Jaehee, a quiet stillness falls over the room once again. The two brothers remain where they are, not speaking, not moving, just absorbing the gravity of what’s happened.

After a moment, Jake turns to Heeseung, his expression softening. “You know,” he starts, his voice low, “I didn’t expect this. Any of this. But... I’m glad you’re here.”

Heeseung glances at Jake, his usual cocky demeanor tempered by something more genuine. “Yeah, well, you’ve always had a knack for dragging me into things,” he says, though there’s no bite to his words. In fact, there’s something almost tender in the way he says it, a hint of the older brother Jake used to know—the one who protected him, the one who cared.

Jake’s lips curl into a small smile, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting Heeseung’s again. “I’m serious, Heeseung. I missed this... missed you.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that’s rare, something raw and real that he’s only ever let show in the most private of moments.

Heeseung seems to struggle with his emotions, the tough exterior he’s maintained for so long wavering. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, the words seemingly caught in his throat. Finally, he lets out a breath, one that sounds like it’s been held for years.

“I missed you too, Jake,” he admits quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “More than I ever let on.”

Jake’s heart swells at the admission, and before he can think twice, he steps forward and pulls Heeseung into a hug. It’s awkward at first—two brothers who have spent years at odds with one another—but then Heeseung relaxes into it, his arms wrapping around Jake in return. For a moment, they’re not two men caught up in the dangerous games of power and betrayal—they’re just brothers, trying to find their way back to each other.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice muffled against Jake’s head. “For everything.”

Jake tightens his hold on Heeseung, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t be,” he replies. “We’ve both done things we’re not proud of. But we can’t change the past... we can only try to do better moving forward.”

Jake pulls back slightly to look at Heeseung, his eyes searching his brother’s face for any sign of hesitation. But what he finds there instead is a quiet resolve.

“Let’s do better, then,” Heeseung says, his voice firm with determination. “For both of us. For our family.”

Heeseung nods, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “For our family,” he agrees.

The two brothers stand there for a moment longer, the weight of their shared history settling into something a bit lighter, something they can carry together. It’s not a perfect reconciliation—there’s still so much left unsaid, so much that needs to be worked through—but it’s a start. And for now, that’s enough.

Heeseung breaks the hug with a gentle pat on Jake’s back, a soft smile still lingering on his lips. "Well," he starts, trying to lighten the mood, "if you ever do need advice on, you know, anything baby-related, just remember—I’m always available."

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. "I’ll keep that in mind, but something tells me you’re not exactly the expert."

Heeseung smirks, raising an eyebrow. "You’d be surprised. I’m great with kids—just ask anyone. Besides, who could resist this charm?" He winks at you playfully, adding, "If Jake ever messes up, you know where to find me."

You laugh, shaking your head at his teasing. "Sorry, Heeseung, but I’m just as madly in love with him as he is with me. So, I’m afraid you’ll have to look elsewhere."

Heeseung smirks, “are you sure, sweetheart? I’m known for being the bigger brother.”

Jake rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin on his face. "Nice try, Heeseung. But you’re going to have to find someone else to charm. This one’s off-limits."

Heeseung shrugs with a good-natured smile. "Can’t blame a guy for trying." He turns serious for a moment, glancing between the two of you. "But really, I’m glad you both have each other. It’s good to see you happy, Jake."

You and Jake exchange a look, warmth filling the space between you. "Thanks, Heeseung," Jake says, his voice soft. "That means a lot."

Heeseung nods, and the three of you stand there for a moment, a comfortable silence settling in. But then, Heeseung’s mischievous grin returns. "But just so you know, if Jake ever messes up... I’ll be right here."

You laugh, leaning into Jake as he wraps an arm around you. "I’ll keep that in mind, Heeseung. But I think Jake’s doing pretty well so far."

Heeseung chuckles, giving Jake a playful punch on the arm. "Take care of her, Jake. Don’t make me come back here and steal her away."

Jake grins, pulling you closer. "Don’t worry, Heeseung. I’ve got this."

With one last smile, Heeseung nods and heads for the door. "Alright, I’m out. Get some rest, both of you. And Jake—remember, I’m just a call away."

"Will do," Jake replies, his voice genuine.

As the door closes behind Heeseung, the room feels quieter, the intensity of the earlier conversation fading away. Jake turns to you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “It feels like this is finally the end of all the bad,” he murmurs into your hair. “The start of something good—something real.”

You nod, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I believe it’s only going to get better from here.”

Jake pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and hope. “Yeah, it will. We’ll make sure of it.”

You smile, brushing a hand through his hair. “Speaking of making things better… I have something to share with you. Something Yerin gave me.”

Jake’s brows furrow in curiosity. “What is it?”

You take his hand, leading him upstairs to your bedroom. “It’s something your mother left behind for you,” you explain, your voice gentle as you open the closet and pull out the chest Yerin had brought earlier. “She wanted you to have it when you got married.”

Jake’s eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the sight of the chest. “My mother… did this?”

You nod, setting the chest down in front of him. “Yes, before she passed away. It’s full of things she wanted you to have, to remember her by.”

Jake slowly lowers himself onto the bed, staring at the chest with a mixture of awe and disbelief. His hand hovers over the lid, almost as if he’s afraid to touch it. “I can’t believe she did this… for me.”

You sit beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She loved you, Jake. She wanted to make sure you knew that, even if she couldn’t be here.”

Taking a deep breath, Jake finally opens the chest. Inside, he finds the baby pictures, a pair of tiny booties he wore as a baby among other baby clothes, and the stack of carefully folded letters. The sight of these treasures brings tears to his eyes, the emotions he’s held back for so long finally breaking free.

He picks up one of the baby pictures, his hands trembling slightly. “This is… me,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. Then he reaches for the little booties, holding them as if they were the most precious thing in the world. “She kept these...”

Tears spill from his eyes, and you rub his shoulder, your heart aching for him. “She wanted you to have these memories, Jake. To remember her and the love she had for you.”

Jake wipes at his eyes, but the tears keep coming. He sets the booties aside and picks up one of the letters, the one addressed to him at the very top. With a deep breath, he opens it and begins to read aloud.

The letter starts with a heartfelt message: “If you’re reading this, Jaeyun, then my biggest fear has come true. I’ve been taken from you, and I’ve left my only joy behind. But I want you to know that I love you more than anything in this world. You’ve been the light of my life, and I’ve cherished every moment we had together.”

Jake’s voice breaks as he continues reading, tears falling freely now. “I hope you grow into the man I always knew you would be—a good man, a kind man. And I hope you can forgive me for not being able to stay. I wanted to be there for every milestone in your life, but since I can’t, I’ve written these letters for you. Each one is meant for a different moment, a different milestone. Keep them close, and know that I’m with you in spirit, every step of the way.”

He pauses, overwhelmed by the emotions surging through him. You squeeze his shoulder gently, offering silent support as he finishes reading the letter.

Jake sets the letter down, his eyes red and swollen from crying. But there’s a sense of peace in his expression now, a weight lifted off his shoulders. “She... she really thought of everything,” he whispers, almost to himself.

As he digs through the chest, he suddenly pulls out another letter, this one addressed “To the one my son chooses.” He sniffs, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and hope. “This one’s for you,” he says, handing it to you.

Your hands tremble slightly as you take the letter, your heart pounding in your chest. With a deep breath, you open it and begin to read.

The letter is filled with warmth and love, the words carefully chosen. “To the one my son chooses,” it begins. “To the one my son chooses… I hope you know how extraordinary he is. His heart is kind, but strong. He’s slow to anger yet always ready to defend his friends and help anyone in need. If I can be so bold, I dare say he has everything good from myself that I wished he would have when I first found out I was pregnant with him. Courage, compassion, selflessness, and an undying love for math.”

You pause to clear your throat, the words getting to you as well. “Jaeyun was raised by his father following my death. I'm sure he wasn’t awarded the luxury of love or empathy and so I hope that the one he chooses— you, I hope you are good to him.”

“I suppose every mother wishes the best for her child. I hope you are everything he needs and deserves. I hope you support him when he doubts himself, I hope you encourage him to be the best person he can be and I hope you challenge him when he needs to be challenged. Know that he will want to give you everything. He will love you with all of his heart. That is just the way he is. Please be good to him, because he believes so deeply in the goodness of the world, and I never want to see that vanish. If he has found you, then I am glad you'll be there for him as I can not.”

“Thank you for loving Jaeyun. Thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t be. I know he’s in good hands with you, and that brings me so much peace. Please, take care of him, cherish him, and help him find the happiness he deserves. And know that I’m grateful for you, for the love you’ve brought into his life. All of my love, sieomeoni.”

You look up at Jake, tears brimming in your eyes. “Your mother... She was an incredible woman, Jake. I’ll do everything I can to honor her wishes.”

Jake smiles through his tears, pulling you into a tight embrace. “She would have loved you,” he whispers. “Just like I do.”

As Jake pulls you into the embrace, his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against your cheek soothe the storm of emotions swirling inside you. His arms around you feel like a sanctuary, and you lean into him, drawing comfort from his presence.

He gently pulls back, his eyes searching yours, a tender smile still lingering on his lips. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with gratitude.

You nod, your eyes misty as you try to hold back the tears. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you reply softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. The tenderness of the moment seems to stretch between you, an unspoken understanding passing silently in the space.

Jake’s gaze drops to your lips, and he takes a slow, deliberate breath. His hand brushes along your jaw, fingertips barely grazing your skin, igniting a spark of warmth that spreads through you. He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle, exploratory kiss.

The touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine as you respond, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, growing more passionate as Jake’s hands slide to your waist, drawing you in.

As the kiss deepens, the world around you seems to dissolve into the softness of the moment. Jake’s hands move gently across your back, pulling you even closer. You can feel his heartbeat quicken, a rhythm that matches the quickening pace of your own.

The intimacy of the kiss is overwhelming, a blend of tenderness and passion that makes it hard to distinguish where his emotions end and yours begin. Jake’s lips are warm and inviting, and the way he holds you feels both protective and loving.

Gradually, the intensity of the kiss starts to subside. Jake pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of emotion and vulnerability. You can see the depth of his feelings reflected in his gaze, a silent conversation passing between you.Jake’s thumb lightly brushes against your cheek, and his expression is one of pure tenderness. “I love you,” he says softly, his voice a gentle murmur.

You smile through the haze of emotion, your heart swelling with affection. “I love you too,” you whisper back, your voice barely more than a breath.

Jake takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” he says with a soft smile, guiding you up the bed. The room feels warm and inviting, and you follow him willingly, your heart full of love and contentment.

He lays down on the bed and gently pulls you down beside him, wrapping his arms around you in a cozy embrace. You settle against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the comfort of his presence. The warmth of the bed and the closeness of Jake create a safe and serene haven where you both can simply be.

Jake kisses the top of your head, his voice soft and content. “I’m really happy with how things have turned out,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know what to expect, but being here with you now… it feels right.”

You snuggle closer, resting your head against his chest, and listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “Me too,” you reply softly. “I’m grateful for every moment we’ve shared and for the chance to be here with you.”

Jake’s arms tighten around you, and you both settle into the peaceful quiet of the room, wrapped in each other’s warmth. The sense of connection and love between you feels more profound than ever, and you know that, no matter what the future holds, you’ll face it together, with each other’s support and affection.

As you drift into a comfortable embrace and silence, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of love and contentment.

taglist: @dreamiestay @inkpot-winters @minniejenseo @faithnsstuff @sumzysworld @sunpov @laurradoesloveu @onlyhyunjin @iheartjayke

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up. 

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course. 

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile. 

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor  opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do. 

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs. 

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair. 

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor. 

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away. 

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and- 

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him. 

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it. 

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop. 

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it. 

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force. 

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.” 

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back. 

~

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means. 

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath. 

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter. 

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person. 

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?” 

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-” 

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten. 

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?” 

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that. 

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks. 

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?” 

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still. 

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet. 

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen. 

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you. 

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much. 

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings. 

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do. 

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?” 

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked. 

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost. 

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue. 

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows. 

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.” 

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you. 

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.   

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like. 

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips. 

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum. 

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do. 

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.” 

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all. 

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ‘til his cum is dripping down his abdomen.  You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere. 

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching? 

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.” 

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

All Your Fault

Next

Author's note: I got the Bully Cato Sicarius Fleas. I've read the fics and they are good. I hope I got his character right.

Warnings: Bullying behavior, verbal bullying, Power Imbalance, Cato's Sparkling Personality. uh let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: You are just a Serf, and one day gain the attention of the Captain of the Second Company of Ultramarines. It's not a good thing. Just what did you do to upset him so?

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @egrets-not-regrets, @gra93fruit-blog

You were born and raised near your family's farm on Calth. You had grown up hearing about the Glory and Wonder of the Imperium and how very Lucky you and the other citizens of Ultramar are to have the protection of the Mighty and Noble Ultramarines. 

You had heard stories of how some of the stronger boys in your farming community were blessed with the chance to become Ultramarines. But that had been a few generations ago when the farming community had a poor harvest and they had to give people as part of the tithe more than finished and raw farming goods. 

You bite your lower lip a little as you continue to pull weeds and tend to the section of the fields You had assigned to you to work on. There has been a bad drought that has made the usually high yield farm rather lacking. You have heard your parents and the local town leaders talking about it. 

With the Tithe Coming within a few short weeks, and a lack of agricultural goods. They had been arguing over who to send as tribute and part of the tithe. As a farming community it was heavily encouraged to have multiple children for a variety of reasons. 

The families with more children got tax breaks and help from the centralized government for Healthcare, child rearing and daycare. As well as cheap, decent quality education and help with feeding and funding Children born and continued growing. You were one of seven children and are among the middle of the pack. 

You are full grown, but due to circumstances still stuck at the family farm, working on it rather than having your own place to live. While volunteers are preferred a lottery was going to be set in place for the whole community to gather and those of a certain age range were going to be the most targeted for the Tithe-ing. 

You are in that age range, you aren't sure if you want to be one of those chosen to go. Whether it is into the Astra Militarum, Chapter Serf, or into a different part of governmental service. If it happens, you will do your duty and say your goodbyes to your loved ones. 

The sinking sensation that you felt proved true five weeks later when your name was called as part of the Tithe to the Imperium. You were just barely able to say goodbye to your siblings. Before you were whisked off to be assessed and put into quarantine with your fellow Calth-ites. After quarantine and skills tested, you were given the uniform of Serf. 

And to your greatest joy and honor. The colors of the Ultramarines, denoting which holy chapter you had been chosen for. You whisper in gratitude to the God Emperor for his mercy and wisdom. You swiftly change into the uniform And follow after those who were chosen and head to the proper disembarkation point. 

One of the higher ranking serfs explaining the rules and consequences for breaking them. As you walk by, you and the rest of the Serfs have to flatten yourselves against the walls when Astartes in Blue and Gold Armor go walking by, you keep your head lowered out of respect, even as you peek at them from the corner of your eye as awe and dread grips your heart. You had only ever heard of the Angels of the Imperium before. And now… you get to serve them, what an honor.

Even if it makes you anxious, one of the Ultramarines brushes past you, he has a stern expression on his stunningly handsome face. You swear you feel his eyes flicker over and stare at you ever so briefly before snapping back in front of him towards where some of his fellow Angels are. 

Once they leave the hallway you and your fellow new Serfs are hurried along to their destination as the Serfs who’ve been there longer and are in charge continue to go over the rules, regulations and consequences of disobedience.

Over the next several months you learn of the complex social and political hierarchy of the Serfs. Or at least, you do your best to do so as it seems a tricky, complicated and almost arcane nature. Far more complex that a simple farm hand turned chapter serf could comprehend at times. Although you did your best to do your duties swiftly, promptly, quietly, and with as little impact on your higher ups as possible.

You are carrying some clothing from one part of the ship to another when you sense movement out of the corner of your eye. You stop and shift out of the way when you spot blue and gold ceramite armor and an Ultramarine Space Marine comes walking over. You dutifully flatten yourself against the nearest wall to give the massive man more room.

The Ultramarine pauses and stares down at you. It was the same one that had briefly looked at you all those months ago when you’d first come aboard the ship as part of a tithe.

“Serf,” He barks at you.

“Yes, Lord?” You say trying not to jump. 

He scowls at you and your heart sinks and you feel like you want to cry. “What the fuck is that accent?”

“I-I am sorry my lord?” You try as you carefully try to enunciate Low Gothic properly. 

One of his eyes twitch and he scowls down at you, “Speak properly or stay silent. Serf.”

You nod, even though you feel hurt, welling up, and confusion. He was the one to start to speak to you. “Yes, Lord.”

“Hrm. Barely better,” Cato sneers down at the country bumpkin now blessed to become a Serf of the Ultramarines.

They have the same fucking accent that, Prissy bastard Captain Ventris gets when he’s talking with his uppity giant bastard of a Sargent Passinius. He’d had yet another disagreement with the Captain of the Fourth Company over tactics and Calgar had barked out orders that the pair of them needed to break it up and cool off before coming back to the meeting.

He had meant to go to the training salles to cool off as he seethed in his wrath when he spotted that one far too pretty looking Serf that had come aboard McCragge’s Honor a few months ago. Not that he had noticed them at all. Or that he’d been, for some reason, tracking them from time to time. Not that he’d sought them out while he was in a temper because of Throne-cursed Ventris.

Their large eyes staring up at him, with tears starting to gather at the corners of their eyes. Tch. Pathetic. Even as something else shifts in his hearts at seeing their emotional reaction to him. He’d hardly said much and they were already acting like he was being a Bastard. So he scowls down at them some more and snarls that they need to be tougher to survive as a Serf serving Astartes.

"Leave," He barks and you bow and scurry off and away from him as you continue to do your duties, trying to figure out what it was that you did to upset the Second Captain of the Ultramarines.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 16

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

TW: Mentions of blood and suicide

After Pelle had killed himself and Necrobutcher quit the band, Oystein knew he had to make his next moves very carefully if he wanted to keep it together. Finding Pelle like he did broke his heart. He knew he had pain. He knew that he was down and out but a part of him never truly expected he would go through with it.

He knew the needed to get out of this house. After sensationalizing Pelle's death, the rumor mill about him being a brain eating occultist was running rampant which only served to give Mayhem more publicity. No matter how much he wanted to capitalize on it, being in the house now just felt wrong.

Most of their stuff had been cleared out, he was still packing up his own room but Hellhammer had already gotten his shit out. He said the house felt haunted and even though Oystein gave him shit about it, he often found himself standing at the doorway of Pelle's room, staring at the blood stain on the floor. The path of blood that led to the stained wooden boards that his brains were still embedded in deeply.

He knew that what he was doing was wrong but if he stopped and let himself feel this, he wasn't sure he would ever recover. The sound of tires screeching outside snapped him out of his thoughts and he could see Y/n's car carrying dust from how fast she just came to a halt.

"I don't need this right now-" Euronymous was carrying a box in his arms when Y/n's hand slammed into the side of his cheek sending him stumbling backwards into the car, dropping the box from his hand.

"YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE SHIT! HOW COULD YOU!?" She was screaming and crying as he brought his hand to his cheek that was throbbing. He couldn't believe she had just punched him.

"Jørn told me what you did! Skull necklaces? Have you no fucking soul at all?! He was a fucking person Oystein! He had people who loved him and cared about him!" She continued to cry through her anger and disgust.

"Please tell me this isn't real. I need you to tell me that this is all just to keep your image because I can't-" She started to hyperventilate and Oystein panicked.

"Y/n breathe, you're going to pass out!" He reached out and tried to steady her by the arms.

"Tell me they aren't really Pelle. Please tell me that I didn't have feelings for someone who would do something so callous and disgusting." She pleaded with him and Oystein nodded his head.

"They aren't! It's not him, I promise! Please just breathe." Oystein tried to comfort but she pushed him off of her, falling to her knees. He knelt down in front of her and extended his hand only to be slapped away.

"Don't touch me!" Oystein set back on his ass away from her so she could settle down but she just resumed crying silently.

"He was your friend...how could you let this happen." She gritted her teeth. The truth was, Oystein did feel responsible. He knew how bad Pelle was. He knew that he was experiencing an extra low-low and he had left him by himself to go see his parents for a free meal.

"There was nothing I could do Y/n. You know Pelle didn't want to be alive. He was fucked up-"

"Yeah! He needed help! Not encouragement. Not half-assed friends." Y/n wiped her face tearing a picture from her back pocket and tossing it at Oystein. It was the photo that Pelle let her keep all those years ago when they had done the corpse make up for the first time. Oystein felt pain in his chest. Thing's felt so simple then. He missed when he could terrified people with Pelle and actually make Y/n smile at him.

"You have become such an awful excuse of a human being." She looked up at him and he took his eyes off of the photo to meet her disappointed gaze.

"You shouldn't be here. There's nothing here for you." Oystein said keeping his tone calm knowing that there was nothing he could possibly say to provide her any comfort. They were too far gone now.

"You're right. There isn't." She pushed herself off the ground and Oystein rises to his feet in front of her, leaving the picture on the ground.

"I just had to see for myself. I had to know that there was no going back." Y/n had wiped her face again, this time leaving a smear of dirt from the ground on her chin. Oystein wished she hadn't come by. He wished he could have left this house and all the pain with it.

"I hope the world you've created burns to the ground and when it's all over, you realize all the people you burned with it. I hope it's all worth it in the end." She sniffled and turned her back on him, walking back to her car.

"You just don't understand Y/n. Please let me-" He tried but she cut him off.

"Go to hell Oystein." She gritted through her teeth before starting her car and peeling back down the road away from him, not bothering to look back.

Oystein knelt down to pick up the photo and all the things that had spilled out of the box when he was hit. He didn't think he could hurt anymore than he already did but this felt permanent. This felt as permanent as losing Pelle. He could feel pieces of him dying and how alone he was. He didn't need to go to hell because he was already there.

[beacarrot]

made in 2007.

I wrote a piece, almost a critique,

In tribute to myself,

Since no one ever did it before,

The homage I was never ready to tell,

And this time, I don't regret anymore,

Neither sleepless nights,

Nor mornings I was high,

Promises made in heated thrill,

But never fulfilled,

So, I chose to act my age today,

I drove with my hand near my heart, on display,

Less fragile, weak, reckless for say about love like before,

And face all the truth I ignored.

Since my debut days, I’ve been out of my own sight,

The world was shocked,

When I began to bleed as I fight,

God has His way to show me it worked out right,

Still, there was a look in my eye as I prayed,

For life to be kind, for dreams to stay.

I was just a child chasing prophecy's thread,

Not sure if it ever truly led,

I never knew I could feel that much...

But I was made in 2007 as such.

I don’t know how long I’ll last,

Which morning I’ll wake and regret the past,

Every demon I fed, that brought me down fast,

With greed,

With precision, with fury, a seed

Of reasons without remorse,

No sense of the "moment," just driving off course,

Fueled by feelings, tribal and wild,

A sinking boat I swore was my Titanic, oh, shit, I was beguiled,

Powers I gave my ghosts so freely,

Only to lose my mind, pointing blame for everyone who was around me vaguely,

My hopes never the same,

Will death wait for my last cigarette's flame?

Will it show how my vices claim their price,

Expensive, not nice?

Will she have mercy?

Heal wounds untended,

Unloved love, time poorly expended,

Fixing a life that was unlived?

I don’t know how long I’ll live,

When I won’t wake, and they’ll forgive,

Every slip I made,

What prayers will be on my grave displayed?

A nameless soul, forgotten and slight,

Someone they wonder if was ever in sight,

A legend lost in a blink,

Born in 2007, but now on the brink.

Sometimes it feels like you're always misplaced,

And only they fit, like a perfect embrace,

But not you,

As if those you love make you unworthy and less whole,

But rainbow sparks still ignite your soul,

I hope you never forget your worth,

Even if your body feels wrong from birth,

And you cut yourself within so no one sees,

But you deserve a perfect life, with ever rigth,

You're bold,

And that’s something I behold,

Unique,

Deserving of the world’s glow,

Though the world might not deserves you back that well,

I hope you still hold onto the dream,

For a better world, a brighter gleam,

Taking risks could be the perfect door, the key,

The right words live inside you and me,

One day they'll watch in awe,

Mouths open, struck by what they'll see,

I'll know my bets were right,

Because me and maybe someone were made to fight,

Made in 2007, since there we stood bright.

I wished to freeze a decade in time,

Cherish my mother's hug, warm and prime,

Honor the personality that defines me,

Wish cancer never claimed so many,

That my theories on favorite songs were true,

That high school never bid adieu.

I wish I still believed in pretty lies,

That on some corner my favorite singer would rise,

And plant me a kiss under the skies,

I wish I remembered silly talks,

I wish my parents could knew "forever",

That friends never left town, or crossed seas,

That youth was an eternal diamond breeze,

I wish my paintings were seen,

My stories told and kept pristine,

I wish MY story was shared wide,

That oceans would carry me to where my heart longs,

I wish for so many things that I can’t even know,

And every thought’s a wish that continues to grow,

But one thing is true,

I began with a spark in 2007, anew.

I spent too long thinking he was all gray,

But it was just smoke and mirrors in my the way,

I was the gray,

Like the cigarette, my silent friend,

Lethal and sharp, a means to no end,

I thought the world was cold,

Drained of its color, some old story untold,

But I had a golden side that would show,

Though rarely, it never failed to glow,

I feel something pulling me near,

And I can’t fight it, though unclear,

Time that I left behind in disdain,

Freedom carries me like rain,

This life is dear,

A virtue beyond compare,

Not an illusion,

The world around has already been corrupted,

Decayed,

It’s cold in summer, and lessons fade,

But no one learns from your mistakes,

Except you, with every risk you take,

The past is a time machine,

The present, a luxury unseen,

And I know…

When you're ready, bury your sorrow,

Everyone loves your life, but you,

This is the time to see your achievements too,

I want you to see them, as I now do,

This is your place, and our time to rise,

And I end this note with clear skies...

Remembering I was made in 2007.

(I was born in 2007, and in this track I think I make this clear, it's the fifth poem I post, and five really a special number for me. I think I wanted to express the most positive points of my experiences from my first years of life, and even the not so pleasant experiences at some point in life when we look back it seems less impactful than it was at the time. It's about me, you, victories, values, reflections, comings and goings, pride and complexities. Anyway, I feel this track as an importanet part in me.)

Signed: Beatriz Ranzonni.🩵

[nabibeans]

Forever my star

Summary: Hongjoong was never into dating older women; not until he met his current girlfriend Park Seonghwa. He’s 25, she’s 36 now, their relationship was perfect, however; Hongjoong’s parents aren’t too fond of their son’s older girlfriend. And they make it more than obvious when they help Hongjoong move into Seonghwa’s apartment only to discover the woman is pregnant.

Tw//: hateful language towards Seonghwa, Hongjoong’s father is an asshole, his mother tries but she’s no better.

•⭐️•

Seonghwa groaned as she woke up; her back was already hurting right from the start, the pregnancy pillow only doing so much to support her heavy stomach and back. Sitting up in the bed she glanced over at the clock, 8:45am, shit! The woman slipped out of bed as fast as her baby bump would allow her to; she was supposed to unlock the door at 9am so Hongjoong’s parents could help carry some furniture into the mostly unfurnished apartment, the only rooms they really had completely done were the bedroom and bathroom. “Ah…just bare with mommy little one. Daddy will be here soon.” She rubbed her bump gently, feeling the baby shift a bit in her belly. Seonghwa was currently about 6 months pregnant; she and Hongjoong had agreed once he finished college he’d move in with her rather than buying a whole new apartment, however when Seonghwa’s old apartment complex got shut down they ended up moving to a nice apartment in downtown Seoul together instead. Seonghwa pulled on some hello kitty pajama pants and a black maternity tank top before waddling to the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix the messy short hair on her head. A knock on the door however interrupted that task. “Aigoo, daddy is early little one. Mommy looks a mess.” There was a little kick in response making her smile softly, waddling to the door as fast as she could she opened the door to be greeted by her boyfriend. “Hey baby! And hello my little one.” Hongjoong cooed sweetly, rubbing her baby bump and pressing a soft kiss to it over the fabric. “He’s been kicking a bit this morning, he missed his daddy last night.”

Hongjoong pouted softly, “awe, daddy’s sorry my little man, but I’ll be here every day now with you and mommy.” When Seonghwa had first told Hongjoong she was pregnant the couple truly hadn’t expected a pregnancy this early in their relationship. The couple had only been dating for two years and now they were having a baby; after a long discussion they decided they’d keep their baby and move in together as soon as Hongjoong finished college. Now the time had arrived to focus on their baby and their life together. “Hongjoong-ah are you ready to-“ his mother had rounded the corner, lips pressed in a thin line. “You didn’t tell me your girlfriend was pregnant.” , “you definitely knew she was pregnant, you’ve seen her photos.” Hongjoong pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. “You go back to bed and relax okay? Let me do all the hard work and I’ll cook you lunch after I’m done.” Seonghwa nodded, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend sweetly. “Okay, I love you.” , “I love you too. Now go rest, I can tell you need it.” Hongjoong was always so observant, it warmed her heart that he always knew when she needed rest. Waddling back to the bedroom Seonghwa decided to brush her teeth before going back to bed. “Let’s at least freshen up little man.” She whispered to her belly. As she was brushing her teeth she could hear a loud voice.

“You’re having a child with her already? How old is this woman anyway Hongjoong!?” Hongjoong’s father had never liked her, since the moment they were first introduced he’d had a weird dislike towards the woman. “Dad, she’s 36. We’ve been over this stop being so rude towards her.” She could hear Hongjoong’s voice. “36!? You couldn’t knock up a younger woman!? She’s gonna be 40 by the time your child is able to attend school.” Seonghwa dropped her toothbrush in the sink, tears falling down her face as she held her stomach. She’d known that, she’d known her child would be one of the few with an older mother. And she didn’t mind one bit, especially with Hongjoong reassuring her but now…

Tears fell down Seonghwa’s face as she cried softly, gripping the edge of the sink. The words looping in her head over and over, was having a baby the right choice? Could she provide an ideal life for their child? “I’m gonna check on Seonghwa, we just gotta finish the living room then it’s all boxes.” As Seonghwa tried to wipe her tears away Hongjoong paused in the hallway with just outside the bathroom door. “Baby, what’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Are you okay? Why are you crying!?” Hongjoong’s hands immediately caressed her cheeks.

“I heard what your father said, maybe he’s right…do you think I’m too old to have a baby?” Hongjoong shook his head. “There’s women older than you that have babies. Don’t ever think you’re too old to have a baby, especially my baby.” Seonghwa leaned into his touch, the tears falling down her face slower now. “I just want to be the best mother I can be to our son. And to know your father thinks so low of me..” Hongjoong wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her to the bedroom. “Fuck him. He didn’t like my brothers girlfriend either and she’s older than you. He just doesn’t get it. How amazing older women are~” Hongjoong kissed his girlfriend sweetly, which Seonghwa returned in full.

“Thank you, I needed that.” Seonghwa let Hongjoong help her relax back against the pillows in the bed they’d be sharing from now on. “Any time babe, you rest. I’ll make your favorite for lunch and once they leave I’ll run you a bubble bath so you can soak while I cook. You deserve it, after all you’re working so hard carrying my son.” Seonghwa smiled. “Thank you, I love you..my treasure.” Hongjoong leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I love you my star.” Getting off the bed Hongjoong made sure she was comfortable before leaving the room. He’d have to talk with his parents before his son was born, and he was dreading that conversation.

Once he joined them in the now fully furnished living room he took a deep breath, “mom. Dad. Let’s talk outside, Seonghwa is sleeping.” The three moved outside where the remaining boxes sat beside the door. “Listen; I know Seonghwa is an older woman, but you can’t just be rude to her and say things like that about her when she’s having your grandchild.” His mother only sighed, “son, we just want what’s best for you.” , “so being rude to my girlfriend, who’s having MY baby is the right thing to do!?” His voice raised slightly. “No not at all it’s just…” , “have you thought about what this baby’s childhood will be like with an older mother?” His father intervened. “I don’t think my child’s future is your business. His mother is a very wealthy woman might I add. So trust me her age isn’t an issue.” It was true. Seonghwa was a college professor at Yonsei. That was how they’d met; Hongjoong having studied at Seoul National had seen her passing in the hallway during a sports event and decided to talk to her. “Her money isn’t the point, you make twice as much as she does.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “I think you should leave, and don’t bother showing up when my baby is born. Her parents will be there.” His mother’s jaw dropped but before she could speak Hongjoong grabbed the remained boxes and kicked the door closed.

He should feel bad for saying that to his parents, but with the way they treated Seonghwa he couldn’t bring himself to. Deciding to wait to unpack the rest of the items he went to check on his pregnant girlfriend, finding the older woman curled up against the pillows sleeping soundly. “Aigoo, my star you must have been sleepy.” He kisses her head softly, pulling the blanket over her shoulders before getting back to work on finally making the apartment their own.

•⭐️•

It was a few hours layered when Seonghwa woke up; stretching her arms over her head and checking the time, 3:45pm. “Man I slept all afternoon.” Slipping out of the bed she rubbed her belly gently as she entered the living room, her eyes widened as she looked at the beautifully decorated room. “Hey baby, did you sleep well?” Hongjoong entered from the kitchen, an apron tied to his waist. “Yes I did, why didn’t you wake me up?” , “baby you’re pregnant. You need the rest, after all in three months neither of us are getting much sleep. Especially you, you still want to breastfeed right?” Seonghwa nodded. They’d discussed it early on and decided she’d breastfeed their baby when he was born. “Yes I do, I’m going to miss sleeping for the first few months. But I can’t wait to hold our son.” Hongjoong leaned in to kiss her lips softly. “I can’t either, we need to start thinking of names for him so we can finally decorate his nursery.” Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “I know, I’ve been looking but none have stuck. If he’s anything like you he needs a name that suits him.” Hongjoong laughed, helping Seonghwa to get comfortable on the couch. “We have a few months, there’s no immediate rush.”

Seonghwa settled against the pillows rubbing her bump. “I’m not either, but I’d love to decorate his nursery before my feet swell up too much. It’s already hard to get in and out of bed with how big my bump is.” Her hand gently caressed her stomach. “I know love, we can talk about baby names over dinner okay? I decided to cook early so we can relax and enjoy ourselves this evening. Seonghwa smiled up at her boyfriend, “thank you babe, I appreciate you.”’, “I’m just doing my duty and spoiling the mother of my child no big deal!” The couple shared another kiss before Hongjoong went back to the kitchen.

Dinner had been amazing; they’d decided on the name Yeosang for their baby boy, even choosing red for the primary color in his nursery. “Yeosangie, your daddy is a great cook you know?” Seonghwa smiled as she rubbed her belly gently, there was a small kick in response, followed by a few more. “You like that? You like that name don’t you? Mommy’s Yeosang.” The baby kicked once more, small kicks against her stomach. “Am I hearing that right? Our Yeosang likes his name?” Hongjoong rested his hands on his girlfriend’s bump, feeling the kicks himself.

“He’s going to be a very happy baby. I can feel it.” Seonghwa smiled as she placed her hands over Hongjoong’s. “Of course he is, our Yeosang is going to be the most spoiled baby in Seoul too.” The couple continued chatting through the evening just enjoying each others company; ending the evening with a bath before getting into bed, Seonghwa laid on Hongjoong’s chest. His hand caressing her baby bump as they watched a movie together. “I can’t wait to do this while holding Yeosang between us.” Seonghwa spoke sleepily. Hongjoong nodded in agreement. “You know he can’t sleep in the bed. But some cuddles before putting him in his crib will definitely be needed. “I know, I still hate that I can’t cuddle him while I sleep.” , “you can hold his hand, we got a crib that allows easy Access so you won’t have to get out of bed much after giving birth.” Seonghwa yawns as she nodded. “I know, mm just…so ready to be a mommy.” Her eyes were fluttering closed, Hongjoong’s sign to shut off the tv and focus on getting to sleep. As the couple drifted to dreamland Hongjoong whispered one last thing.

“I love you forever, my star.”

AN//: Kinda short and sweet while I’m working on the next part to Unexpected. Would you guys want another part that takes place after Yeosang is born?