#I know if I continue on this path my body and mind will both continue to be damaged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

senascoop · 7 months ago

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TIL DEATH DO US PART , S.JY !

PAIRING: husband ! jake × afab reader

SYNOPSIS: In an arranged marriage where sparks never flew, you finally chose divorce as the only path to freedom. But when your husband died in a sudden accident, life took an unexpected turn, binding you to a reality marked by guilt, grief, and the shadows of unfulfilled words. Now, you must navigate a world that holds him forever gone.

GENRE: fluff + angst

WARNING(S): not proofread, kissing, dirty jokes, a little bit suggestive, mentions of suicide and death, insecurities, mentions of pregnancy. lmk if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 16.2K

FEAT: JAY from ENHYPEN + some ocs

MASTERLISTS ARCHIVE !!

NOTE FROM SENA ┊ had this idea going from quite a lot of time (two months lol) though i wasn't sure of posting it... but here you go i guess. was supposed to post this a day ago for Jake’s bday (🎂) but I hope this still works. definitely won't claim this as one of my best works but hope it's not too bad. would love to know your opinions <3

DEAR JAKE,

I’m sorry, but I can’t continue living like this. I’m leaving. Our marriage has become a constant battle, and I believe we’re both suffering more by holding on than we would by letting go. I know neither of us wanted it to come to this, and I wish things were different. But deep down, I think we’re better apart. I hope one day you’ll understand.

With regret, Y/N.

TEARS BLURRED YOUR VISION AS YOU STARED AT THE CRUMBLED NOTE IN YOUR HAND—the one you had written to Jake months ago. The one that now felt like a curse. Your hands shook as you traced the familiar words, guilt twisting your insides. I’m leaving. I’m sorry. He had never known the true weight of those words. And now he never would.

The police had found it in his pocket. They said he’d carried it with him, even after everything. Even when he... when he was gone.

You collapsed onto the couch, clutching the note like a lifeline, but it only felt like a reminder of how far you had pushed him. How much you had wanted out, and now, how deeply you regretted it. A year together, two lives constantly at odds, and it had ended in this way. A divorce that never came, an accident that did. You didn’t want this, didn’t want him gone, but now, all you had was this—regret, and a body that was too still in your bed to hold. The anger, the frustration of him being gone—it consumed you, ate at your soul.

Why couldn’t you have waited?

You had hoped time apart would fix things, give you both breathing room. But he hadn’t lived long enough for you to see the good you could have made of it. The guilt ate you alive, deeper than the frustration ever had. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have known, but deep down, the truth stung. Your note had been his last reminder of your marriage. His last memory. He had carried your rejection right until the end.

Would things have been different if you hadn’t written that letter?

The thought raked at your mind like shards of glass, shredding everything in its path. What if you had kept fighting for him, for the marriage? Would he have been here? Would you have learned to love him? Or would he still have left, still have been gone, no matter what?

Your thoughts flickered back to moments with him—so small, so easy to overlook. The way Jake had rolled his eyes every time you’d scolded his niece Semi for spilling juice, or how he had tried to hide his smirk as he pretended to act innocent. The little things that used to irritate you, that you had never really appreciated until now.

You remembered the way he defended you against his relatives, his words sharp and protective as they made cruel comments about your body. They didn’t understand, but Jake did. He had always been there, not perfect but trying.

“She suits me well enough.”

The memory felt like a slap now, a cruel joke. You had spent so much time pushing him away, not seeing that he cared. You hadn’t seen that he had tried.

“Why couldn’t I have seen it?” you whispered to the empty room, curling up on the bed, pressing your face into the pillow. The tears soaked into the fabric, and the sobs wracked through you like a storm. Why was it only now, when he was gone, that you realized how much he had mattered?

You had never kissed him, never held him the way a wife should. You thought you had the luxury of time, but now you had nothing left but his memory. The memory of a man you barely knew but had somehow been the one constant in your life. How selfish of you to push him away. How stupid to think it was all about the fights, the annoyances, and not about the love you could have had.

“Please... Jake. I’m sorry...”

The words escaped you as your sobs grew louder, choking your breath. Your body trembled with grief, the weight of regret pressing down on you until you couldn’t breathe. If only you could undo it, go back and rewrite the note. If only you hadn’t given up on him, on the marriage, on the chance for something more.

The room felt suffocating now, as though the walls were closing in around you. What now? you thought. There was no future with him anymore. No next step. No reconciliation.

Why had you waited so long to realize how much he meant to you?

You sank deeper into your pillow, tears soaking your face and your hair, wishing for the impossible: for him to walk through the door, to come back, to make everything okay again. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

And all that was left was you. And the note.

YOUR MOTHER IN LAW’S HANDS TREMBLE AS SHE EXTENDS THE ANCESTRAL RING TOWARDS YOU, her eyes glistening with raw grief. The ring's delicate gold band catches the light, an unwanted reminder of everything Jake represented—strength, love, an unfinished story.

“He wanted you to have this… but I never thought I’d give it to you now. Not like this,” she whispers, her voice breaking before dissolving into quiet sobs. The sound is so raw it scrapes at your heart. For a moment, the room feels unbearably small, closing in with the suffocating weight of shared loss.

You stare at the ring, fingers hovering uncertainly. The thought of accepting it feels like admitting he’s really gone. Yet, you know you can’t refuse it; Jake’s wish, even unspoken now, feels sacred. You slip the ring onto your finger, a silent acknowledgment of the man you had once promised yourself to, a man you’ll never get the chance to truly know.

With a hesitant step forward, you place your hand on her shoulder, the touch meant to soothe but feeling fragile, as though it could shatter under the weight of her grief. The older woman leans into you, body racked with tremors as she buries her face in her hands. Her sobs rise and fall in uneven waves, echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“Please… don’t cry,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and cracking at the edges. The night had drained you, leaving your eyes dry yet still burning, poised for more tears that you no longer had the strength to shed.

Her grief pierces deeper. “He wouldn’t want to see you in pain,” you add, voice low, carrying the weight of a plea that even you don’t believe.

“I-I know,” she manages between sobs, her shoulders trembling. “But… he was so young, so full of life. It should’ve been me, not him. He barely started his life, and now…”

The room seems to warp under the heaviness of her words. You know she’s right. The unfairness of it all gnaws at you. But what would Jake want? The question echoes in your mind, clawing for answers you wish you didn’t have to seek.

You close your eyes for a brief second, conjuring his face in your memory—the way his smile would sneak out when he thought you weren’t looking, the stubborn tilt of his chin when he was determined. You imagine him here, telling you what to do, how to be strong for her when he couldn’t be.

Drawing in a shaking breath, you shift, wrapping your arms around your mother-in-law. She stiffens for a heartbeat before collapsing into the embrace, her body convulsing with grief. Her head rests on your shoulder, and you stroke her back, the gesture rhythmic, almost desperate, as if the act itself could soothe the unsoothable.

“My poor boy… he must’ve been so scared, so alone in those final moments,” she chokes out, and it’s as if a knife twists in your chest. The image of him in pain, of his last moments, blurs the edges of your control. A tear slips down your cheek, a singular escape among the multitude waiting behind your lashes.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you whisper, barely audible. The guilt is relentless, intertwining with the ache of loneliness that had settled deep within you long before he passed. You were alone when he was alive, and now that emptiness has transformed, sharpened by grief, into something more unbearable.

Her sobs quiet, just enough for her to lift her head and take in your expression, your tears mingling with unsaid words. She studies you, eyes clouded by grief but touched with understanding.

“You must feel so alone too… You and Jake… barely had time,” she murmurs, her voice a weak echo of empathy.

The silence stretches, heavy and uncertain. You meet her gaze and see the exhaustion, the pain mirrored back at you. It anchors you for a moment, before she speaks again.

“You’re still young. You should think of moving forward one day. Remarry, maybe… You’ll always be like a daughter to me, but you have to live, too.”

Your heart clenches, rejecting the thought. You don’t want to. The ache of wanting Jake, even in a marriage that had felt distant, is a raw wound you can’t imagine healing. The loneliness was familiar; life without him is uncharted, unbearable.

“I won’t… I can’t,” you admit, voice shaking as the tears finally spill, unchecked. “I just want him back. Even if it means being lonely again.”

The words break you open, and this time, neither of you tries to stop the crying. You hold each other in the ruins of shared loss, hoping, against hope, that the pieces of your shattered hearts will one day feel less sharp.

YOUR HANDS CHILLED FROM THE BRISK AIR, DIG DEEPER INTO YOUR COAT POCKETS AS YOU GAZE OUT INTO THE SWIRLING SNOW, a faint numbness settling in your bones. Each snowflake that brushes against your cheek feels colder than the last, a physical reminder of the frost that’s taken root in your heart, a void Jake's absence left behind. Life has lost its rhythm, its purpose, and the bustling world seems foreign, moving on a beat you no longer recognize.

Nursing, once a passion that filled your heart, now feels suffocating. The once-simple act of caring for patients, seeing them through their darkest times, now stirs something darker inside you—an envy for their hope, their chances. These creeping, bitter thoughts had scared you enough to step back from the only profession you knew. The faces of crying relatives haunted your dreams, their grief striking chords too familiar, too close. You’d sworn to heal, never harm, yet here you are, carrying shadows of guilt too heavy to bear.

The café’s warmth hits you as you push through the door, a momentary comfort against the gnawing cold. You shuffle forward, fingers fumbling in your pocket for money as your eyes wander the room. Jake had always spoken fondly of this place, a little corner shop with its cozy mismatched chairs and the sweet aroma of cocoa and baked pastries. A small pang clenches your chest, regret whispering its usual 'what ifs.' If only you’d agreed to visit here with him, if only time hadn’t been a cruel master.

The barista, a young woman with weary eyes, glances up as she speaks. “Ma’am, are you ordering?” Her voice, though polite, carries a slight impatience with the growing line behind you.

“Ah, yes… a cold coffee,” you manage, the words falling flat as if they don’t quite belong to you. Her brows lift, a flicker of confusion.

“In this weather?” she asks, a hint of genuine concern lacing her tone.

Realizing the absurdity, you swallow, forcing a small, resigned nod. “Hot chocolate then,” you say, the warmth of Jake’s recommendation tugging at the edges of your memory.

The exchange is brief, the hot drink pressed into your hands a minute later. As you turn to leave, the weight of the ancestral ring around your finger pulls at you, its cool surface grounding and yet suffocating. The bittersweet metal reflects a dull glow, a silent reminder of promises made and broken, of the love lost and the void left behind.

The wind picks up outside, tugging at your coat as you sip the hot chocolate. Its warmth spreads through you, but it’s fleeting, never enough to touch the ache within. You shake your head, Jake’s face vivid in your mind, his teasing smile as he’d planned your future dates. You’d push the thought aside, but every step feels like dragging a part of him behind you.

“Why can’t I let go?” you murmur, voice snatched away by the icy air. Your brother-in-law’s words echo in your mind, urging you to stop living in Jake’s shadow. But how do you tear yourself away from the ghost of a love that never got to finish its story?

Snow clings to your coat as you continue to trudge through the city, each step heavy with an ache that refuses to fade. The glow of the streetlights bathes the snow in a warm, golden hue, contrasting the bitter chill that settles in your chest. Sipping the hot chocolate, you try to focus on the warmth sliding down your throat, but the sweetness only sharpens the emptiness inside. The steam curls from the cup, a fleeting comfort as your breath mingles with it in the frigid air.

You pause near a park bench, eyes darting to couples bundled up, their laughter piercing through the quiet snowfall. One couple stands close, the man adjusting the scarf around his partner’s neck with a smile that makes your heart clench. You bite the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper sharp on your tongue as you fight back the sting in your eyes. The jealousy gnaws at you, sour and uninvited.

The memory of Jake’s voice flits through your mind, warm and teasing: “Good things happen to good people.” You scoff, the bitterness in that statement now a cruel joke. Were you not good enough? The universe seemed to think so, because it had ripped him away, leaving a hollow shell in his place.

Lost in thought, you find yourself on the bridge, fingers trailing over the iron railing that has frosted over, leaving cool streaks on your gloves. This place, once so filled with light and memories, feels haunted now. You trace a path where your and Jake’s hands once met, where laughter and shared secrets once echoed.

A voice, small and familiar, intrudes on your thoughts. Semi’s question echoes, fragile and innocent: “Aunty, when will Uncle come home?” You close your eyes, the lump in your throat thickening as the memory sharpens. You remember her wide, unknowing eyes searching yours for an answer you couldn't give, the guilt of that half-truth searing into you as you whispered, “I’m not sure, sweetie.”

You grip the railing tighter, feeling the cold seep through your gloves as the ache of regret claws at your heart. The river below moves steadily, unaffected by the chaos in your chest. You look down, watching the water catch the light in rippling patterns, your reflection distorted and wavering. The noise of the city fades as you breathe in the freezing air, each exhale a shuddering attempt to steady yourself.

A gust of wind stings your face, and you force yourself to look up, straightening with a resolve that feels fragile. Jake’s brother and his wife were inside your apartment, their watchful eyes filled with concern disguised as casual chatter. You know why they stay—it’s not out of pity, but out of fear, a silent agreement to keep you tethered when your world felt like it was splitting at the seams.

The laughter from the park drifts over again, mingling with the hum of distant traffic. For a moment, you let yourself remember the warmth of Jake’s embrace, the way he’d nudge your shoulder and murmur, “Life doesn’t stop, even when we want it to.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” you whisper into the night, the words barely a breath as they dissolve in the chill.

The warmth of the hot chocolate fades as the biting wind grazes your skin, a cruel reminder of the numbing void left behind. You stare at the bridge, eyes tracing the railings where Jake’s laughter once echoed. A memory surfaces, unbidden yet vivid.

“I know this isn't what either of us planned, but... I wish we could work it out,” Jake had said, a touch of hesitation softening his confident voice. His hands, hesitant but steady, hovered near you, respecting the space you held between.

“I wish that too,” you had murmured, the lie sliding off your tongue too easily. You’d convinced yourself you didn't care enough for Jake then, but the pang of that memory now gnawed at your insides. Regret had a way of reshaping the past, twisting even the most indifferent moments into sharp blades.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Jake had prodded gently, eyes bright even as he leaned down to meet your gaze.

Caught off guard, you’d raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” The question felt foreign, untouched by anyone's curiosity until now.

“Your ideal type,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting as though challenging you. His height had always made you tilt your head back to catch his expression—a detail that now felt like a cruel nostalgia.

“Why would you ask that?” You'd played along, teasing but curious.

Jake chuckled, the sound resonant and warm. “Because we're getting married, and maybe knowing each other better will make it feel less... strange. Maybe, just maybe, we'll fall in love.” His hand, finally settling on your shoulder, had felt reassuring, a silent promise in its touch.

The memory cleaves through you like a knife, leaving behind a raw wound that no time or distance can heal. A single tear slips down your cheek as you blink, the reality of the moment washing over you like a wave. The park across the street bustles with couples walking hand-in-hand, laughter and warmth breaking through the cold that wraps around you. A fresh ache takes root, sharp and relentless.

You drop the empty cup into the trash can, the metallic clang breaking your reverie. The grief, heavy and suffocating, presses you to the edge as you turn and begin the long walk home. Your footsteps are heavy, every step an effort against the pull of the past.

“Aunty, you're so late. Did you bring Uncle with you?” Semi’s small voice meets you at the door, eyes bright with innocent hope. The guilt hits you like a punch, stealing the air from your lungs. Your throat tightens as you shake your head, eyes avoiding her searching gaze.

Jieun, seeing your reaction, sighs softly as she pulls Semi closer. “Semi, we talked about this, remember?” Her voice holds the practiced patience of a mother trying to shield her child from the pain.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Semi mumbles, eyes dropping to her tiny hands that fidget nervously. The sight twists your heart, guilt layering over the grief that refuses to ease.

You force a hollow smile. “It’s okay, Jieun. She's just a kid,” you say, your voice low and void of emotion as you shrug off your winter coat and hang it up. The familiar routine feels like a play you no longer wish to act in.

“Still, I just—” Jieun’s words falter as you cut her off, your voice breaking the tension.

“Please,” you murmur, the word sharp and desperate, silencing the room. The stillness that follows is suffocating, your breaths shallow as you fight to keep your composure.

Jieun's eyes search yours, understanding but hesitant. “We just don’t want you to be alone,” she whispers, her voice thick with worry.

“I know,” you reply, sitting on the couch with your head hung low, hands clenched tightly in your lap. After a long pause, you add, “But you need to leave. This is your home too, but you have your own life to get back to. I need time... time to figure out how to grieve.” Your eyes don’t lift to meet theirs; you can’t bear to see the disappointment or concern there.

Semi’s voice pipes up again, the innocence piercing through your defenses. “Are you sending us away, Aunty?”

The weight of guilt deepens, pressing into your chest. You close your eyes, feeling the sting behind your lids before you answer. “No, sweetie, I’m not sending you away. You can come whenever you want. Aunty will always be here.” The words come out flat, and you feel them land like lies in the air between you.

Jieun picks Semi up, nodding at you as if she understands, though her eyes glisten with worry. “We’ll give you some space. But we’ll check in. Don’t forget that, please.”

When the door clicks shut, silence wraps around you, heavy and thick. Your gaze shifts to the note you’d prepared earlier, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. The words, written in your own hand, feel foreign now: apologies to the people who stayed, memories they never knew you held, and the final confession of a heart too weary to go on.

You were battling with the urge to just end it all.

The rational part of your brain told you that you were young and had your whole life ahead and that you'd meet a lot of guys in your life but the stubborn heart won't give up and held onto the memory of the guy you once called your husband.

So, you gave up.

A smile, then another.

The city glows beneath you, lights sprawled like constellations cast on earth. The wind at this height is sharp, tearing through your clothes and chilling your skin, as if trying to pull you back from the edge. Your shoes scrape against the concrete ledge, the slight tremble in your legs betraying the battle waging within. The night air smells faintly of rain, metallic and crisp, mingling with the faint hum of traffic below.

You steady your phone in your trembling hand, its cold surface grounding you momentarily. A notification pings, an ironic reminder that life continues to tick on, indifferent to the turmoil within you. The camera lens reflects the shimmer of unshed tears as you hit record, the small red dot staring back like a silent witness.

A smile forms—hesitant, broken. Then another, and another, each one a mask that crumbles too soon. “To everyone who still cares,” you begin, your voice low and cracking, “Semi, sweet, innocent Semi. Jieun, always so patient. Jongseong... my husband’s shadow in every way. My sister, my friends, all of you who tried.”

The wind picks up, whipping strands of hair across your face as you pause, the weight of the unsaid pressing on your chest. You blink rapidly, tears slipping free, their warmth stinging against your cold cheeks. “Jake wouldn't want this. I know he'd call me stubborn, weak even.” You let out a hollow laugh, the sound swallowed by the wind. “But he wouldn’t understand how loud it is in the silence he left behind.”

Your heart hammers as you shift your weight, the city seeming to inhale with you, holding its breath in anticipation. The edge of the building digs into the soles of your feet, the space between you and the world below both terrifying and liberating.

“I miss the little moments, Jake,” you whisper, voice breaking as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I miss you making me feel lonely, and now... now I’m lonelier without you.” The ache in your chest is unbearable, a cavernous void that steals your breath.

One last deep breath, air burning through your lungs, and you step forward. The world blurs into a rush of sound and sensation—wind roaring in your ears, your body weightless, suspended in a moment between despair and peace.

And then the fall hits.

Pain surges through you, sharp and overwhelming, before darkness takes over. Around you, the chaos erupts into a cacophony—screams, the frantic pounding of feet, and the sharp cry of ambulance sirens slicing through the night. But these sounds are drifting away, becoming faint murmurs from a world slipping out of reach.

Silence wraps around you, one that made you feel like everything would be okay after this. Maybe, just maybe, peace waits on the other side. In death.

YOU WALK THROUGH THE DENSE, MILKY FOG, EACH REVERBERATING IN AN ECHO THAT NEVER QUITE SETTLES. The air is cool, feather-light, whispering like distant memories. Is this heaven? The question circles in your mind, unspoken. If it is, where is Jake? A quiet laugh escapes your lips, hollow. He couldn’t have done enough wrong to land in hell, you think, the hint of humor biting through your longing. Yet, the anticipation twists your heart—an ache that makes you want to see him so desperately.

You try to call out, “Jake?” but the sound stays trapped in your chest, choked by the thick fog. Another step forward and there’s nothing but endless white, stretching out, swallowing you whole. Your breath catches; suddenly, the air thins, compressing your lungs, squeezing out every ounce of oxygen. You gasp, your hands clawing at the invisible force stealing your breath. It feels like drowning in emptiness.

Then—without warning—everything shifts. White light erupts around you, blinding and all-consuming. You brace for oblivion, muscles tensing for an end you’re sure is near. But instead, there’s a softness beneath you—a mattress that cradles you like an embrace you forgot.

Your eyes snap open, pupils adjusting to the familiar pale ceiling. It’s your ceiling. Your shared room. The bed, the faint scent of Jake’s cologne still lingering in the sheets, as if he just left. You sit up, heart thundering, hands brushing over your body frantically. No pain, no bruises, no broken bones—nothing. You’re whole, intact.

Then the realization hits you like cold water, and your fingers tremble as you pull them away.

“What the…?” you murmur, eyes darting around, seeking answers that the silent room won’t give. Your gaze falls to the phone on the bedside table, its screen blank and mocking in its stillness. You grab it, breath hitching as the time blinks to life.

January 29th, 2024. 6:30 a.m.

A shiver races down your spine. The date stares back at you, sharp and impossible. You set the phone down, legs feeling weak as you stand and approach the mirror. Your reflection isn’t that of a woman who has been weeping endlessly. Your eyes, dry and wide, reflect confusion rather than the storm of emotions that you carry.

“Is this one of those flashes they say you see before death?” Your voice trembles as the words escape, and you reach up to touch the cold glass. The girl looking back at you does the same, fingers meeting yours in a silent plea.

Then, your eyes catch it. The blue gel pen resting on the dresser—a pen that has no place outside your drawer. It’s a small thing, but the sight of it makes your breath hitch. Memories slice through you, sharp and unforgiving. That pen was the one you’d used for the note to Jake, the one that demanded space, an end.

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head, bile rising in your throat. The pen feels like a cruel token, mocking you for what came after. In a swift motion, you snatch it up, the cold plastic biting into your skin as you grip it tight. The weight of your guilt, your regret, turns your stomach, and with a sudden burst of anger, you hurl the pen into the trash, its clatter punctuating the silence like a final plea.

Chest heaving, you close your eyes. If this is some kind of twisted second chance, you don’t know if you should feel terror or relief. But the room, the sheets, the absence on the other side of the bed—everything points to one impossible truth.

You’re back.

But this isn't a romance novel, is it?

Your eyes trail back to the empty bed, where Jake should be. “Jake?” The name falls from your lips, hopeful, trembling, but the silence stretches on, suffocating.

Your heart thuds like a wild drumbeat, erratic and desperate, the rhythm matched only by the single hope that propels you forward: seeing Jake. Alive. Healthy. Breathing.

You practically jog out of the shared bedroom, your bare feet sliding slightly on the hardwood floor as you turn the corner. The guest room door is ajar, a sliver of dim light illuminating the narrow hallway. The pulse in your chest quickens, breaths shallower with each step until you reach the threshold. You pause, drawing in a trembling breath before stepping inside.

There he is. Jake. Lying on his side, dark hair fanned messily over the pillow, the soft rise and fall of his chest hypnotic in its simplicity. Relief washes over you so powerfully that your knees almost buckle. You inch closer, careful not to make a sound. The blanket is snug around his torso, exposing his bare, muscular chest—the way he prefers when he’s alone. Your throat tightens at the sight, familiar yet so foreign now.

Your hand, almost on its own accord, hovers over his face, fingers trembling as you place them under his nose. The soft, warm breath that meets your touch is enough to sting your eyes with unshed tears. Your hand drifts down, resting against his chest, where you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat—a rhythm you thought you’d never sense again.

Jake stirs, the sudden shift pulling you out of your trance. His eyelids flutter open, dark eyes glazed with sleep but sharpening as they land on you. He blinks once, then again, brows drawing together.

“What are you doing?” His voice, rough with sleep, carries a note of confusion that makes your hand fall away as though burned.

“I-I…” The words snag in your throat, scrambling to make sense of the madness. How could you possibly explain? Your eyes dart nervously to the floor, heat searing your cheeks as you mutter, “I missed your kisses.”

The room freezes. You can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with disbelief. He shifts, sitting up, and the blanket slips down to his waist, revealing the sharp lines of his torso. Your eyes betray you, flickering over the familiar planes before darting away in embarrassment.

“But… we never kiss,” he says, voice low and edged with confusion. The statement slices through you, painfully reminding you of the distance you both had grown used to.

“I know... I...” you whisper, fingers clenching into fists at your sides. The silence stretches, heavy, until the sharp trill of his phone alarm shatters it. Jake’s attention shifts, eyes narrowing as he leans to silence it. When he looks up again, the space where you stood is empty.

You rush back to your room, shutting the door behind you with a soft thud, heart hammering in your chest. Sliding down until you sit with your back pressed against the cool wood, you cover your flushed face with shaking hands. Your pulse thunders in your ears, mixing with the replay of his sleepy voice, the fleeting touch of his warmth.

Is this really the past? The question festers, tugging at the edges of logic, but the ache in your chest and the rawness of your emotions tell you it is. And if so, this year holds one horrifying certainty: Jake’s death.

The mere thought twists something deep inside you, bringing back the soul-crushing grief, the endless nights of regret. You glance down at your wrist, breath catching as your eyes lock on the ink-black date that marks it: November 4th. The day Jake dies.

Frantically, you rub at the skin, as if the stubborn mark will simply smudge away under your touch. But it doesn’t. The date remains, stark and immovable, taunting you.

A shiver crawls up your spine, but then a thought—a glimmer of defiance—roots itself.

What if you change it? What if this was given to you, not as a cruel joke, but a chance to rewrite what went so terribly wrong? To love him in a way you never did and save him from the fate that once tore your entire world apart.

“I can do this,” you whisper, determination threading into your voice. The regret may have once paralyzed you, but now it fuels you. If you only have until that date, then every second will be spent fighting fate, no matter how impossible it seems.

THE SOFT MURMUR OF THE COUPLE’S CONVERSATION DRIFTS DOWN THE STERILE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR, brushing against your ears like a whispered secret. The woman lies propped against crisp white pillows, her leg encased in a cast, eyes fixed on her partner with a blend of exhaustion and comfort. He leans forward, fingers interlaced with hers, voice low and tender.

“Can you please see what's wrong?” he asks, eyes glistening with concern. He gently squeezes her hand, words spilling out as quiet reassurances. “You're doing so well, love. It's going to be okay.”

A tight warmth coils in your chest as you approach, a familiar pang of bittersweetness shadowing the sight. The love, the unwavering devotion-it's moments like these that remind you why you cherish your job. The fragility of life, held together by threads of connection, has always moved you, even when those threads unraveled in your own life.

When you started nursing, blood was your greatest fear, the sight once enough to turn your stomach. Time had softened those edges, transforming anxiety into steady resolve. It was also during those early years when you married Jake, the man whose smile was warm enough to banish shadows but whose presence now only haunted your memories. The marriage had lasted five years before everything shattered with the crash.

No. Stop. The thought rushes at you like a wave, cold and suffocating. You grit your teeth, eyes burning as you push it down, push him down, refusing to let the grief claw at you. He's alive here, in this fragile present you've been thrust into. Don't let the past bleed into now.

“Sure,” you say softly, the practiced smile you wear settling on your face. You reach out, fingers moving gently over the girl's cast, checking the edges, ensuring everything is as it should be. She nods in silent gratitude, eyes fluttering shut with relief as her partner exhales.

The end of your shift arrives with the deep hues of twilight stretching across the sky. The drive home is long, punctuated by the soft rumble of the engine and the anxious thrum of your thoughts. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel, tapping out a nervous rhythm. Avoid home, your mind suggests, listing off a million errands you suddenly think of, any excuse to delay the inevitable.

But the excuses run dry when you're standing in front of your door, keys cold against your palm. The air outside is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you draw a deep breath and hold it. The weight of the morning—Jake's sleepy, questioning eyes and the ghost of your impulsive words-hangs between you and the door.

“Is it too late to back down?” The whisper escapes your lips, trembling in the chilly silence. You picture his expression, the puzzled furrow of his brow as he replayed your words. The way his fingers brushed over his phone, gaze lifted just in time to see you flee. He isn't stupid. Jake never was.

With a sigh, you slip the key into the lock, the click loud and final. The door opens, and warmth spills out to meet you, along with the faint scent of his cologne. Your pulse quickens as you step inside, the hum of your heartbeat louder than the quiet creak of the floor under your weight.

Don't run, you tell yourself, even as the urge coils tight in your muscles. You close the door behind you.

As you push open the front door, the faint glow of the television casts flickering shadows across the living room. There he is-your husband, Jake, reclined on the couch, eyes fixed intently on the news. His brows knit slightly as a montage of suited politicians gestures on screen, their voices droning promises as hollow as a whisper in the wind.

He is basically watching those politicians give some weird and untrue promises for the sake of votes.

How romantic. How normal. The bitter thought twists in your chest. But it isn't. Nothing about this is normal. Why would he be watching the news, of all things? Then, a pang of irony hits you like a wave. How hypocritical, you think. You promised Jake your forever in a ceremony that now feels like an echo. The vows shared between you had been spoken out loud but never truly lived.

You shake the memory away, an old wound you refuse to pick at as you step inside, the floor cool under your feet. Jake doesn't notice you at first, his attention locked on the screen, oblivious to the fact that the person who left him a note asking for space now stands in the doorway, wrestling with the tension roiling inside her.

“Hey,” you finally say, the word falling between you like an anchor. It comes out awkward, unsure, a fragile hope that he won't read too much into it. But Jake's eyes flick to yours, a spark of recognition cooling to something unreadable.

“You're back home?” His voice is measured, neither warm nor cold, but there's a tightness to it that you can't ignore. He shifts, the blue glow of the screen catching the sharp line of his jaw as he waits for your response.

The note. You had slipped it into his hand, asking for a break from a marriage four years deep but hollow. Your heart thuds in your chest, fingers clenched at your side as you speak before fear can pull the words back.

“The note-I take it back. I don't want a break from you or this relationship, Jake.”

The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the low hum of the news anchor's voice. His eyes search yours, a hint of disbelief darkening the warm brown you once memorized. “Why?” The question slices through the quiet, clipped and cautious. You almost flinch at the hardness there, a wall built brick by brick in your absence.

“Because I don't want to stay away from you.” Your voice trembles, raw honesty exposed between you like an open wound. Jake's eyes widen slightly, the stoic mask cracking as a flush creeps across his cheeks.

“Y-You're blushing?” The soft, astonished laugh tumbles out of you, a momentary break in the storm that makes you feel like you're standing on the edge of something new. The corners of his mouth twitch, the faintest sign of a smile, but he shakes his head.

“No, I'm not. I'm just... cold,” he mutters, the lie transparent.

“Sure, sir. You're just cold.” You chuckle, sinking onto the floor beside the couch, knees drawn up as you hug them close. The laughter is sharp, almost giddy, the sound foreign in the room that has held so many silences.

Jake watches you, confusion settling into his features, the red on his cheeks fading as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You're acting weird,” he murmurs, the words half swallowed, uncertain.

“How am I acting weird if I'm seeing my husband show some attraction to me, which isn't platonic, for the first time?” The jest slips out, tinged with sincerity, but it brings a hush over both of you. The truth stands stark between you, glaring and painful. For a moment, neither of you speak, each of you weighed down by memories, by the heavy knowledge of what's been lost and what still aches to be found.

But determination flares in your chest, a stubborn warmth. So what if love had been absent before? So what if promises were half-kept and hearts guarded? You could start again. You could relearn how to be two flawed people willing to try. Your gaze meets Jake's, the hope in your eyes unyielding.

Don't let go, you silently plead. Let this be the start of something real.

Jake clears his throat, a subtle attempt to dissolve the tension settling over the living room like a blanket too heavy to lift. His fingers fidget, running nervously over the seam of the couch as he shifts his gaze downward. There you are, still seated on the floor, legs tucked to one side, eyes catching the soft glow from the TV. Cute, he thinks, the word rolling silently through his mind, too heavy with unsaid truths to speak aloud.

“So...” The word escapes him, thin and unfinished, hovering in the air. His eyes flit over your face, searching for a reaction. The awkwardness clings to the silence, but you don't falter.

“So?” you echo, your tone a notch steadier, holding the slight tremor that betrays your effort. You lean forward just slightly, a gesture that feels braver than it is. If courage could rewrite fate, you'd wield it now, not just for yourself, but for him. For Jake, who might not know the sharp edge of reality that's cut you.

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing to the side where the blue light paints his profile in soft, wavering lines. “You know... Semi's birthday is next week.” His words stumble, trailing off as if second-guessing their own existence. But you aren't in the dark. You know exactly what this moment leads to.

“Yes, I'd love to go shopping for gifts for her,” you respond, your voice quick and practiced. His eyes widen, caught off guard, the surprise stark against his usual composed expression. The tension in his jaw slackens, and he blinks, unsure if he heard you right.

“Excuse me?” He stares at you, the faint crease between his brows deepening.

“Isn't that what you were about to ask?” You tilt your head slightly, a small smile playing at your lips, testing him. He hesitates, realizing that denial means trouble, but his face softens into a relieved kind of acceptance.

“No, no... of course. You could... accompany me to shop for Semi's birthday presents.” His voice picks up, the uncertainty lifting as he finds the path back to normalcy. He notices your smile widening, the tension slipping just enough to let him breathe.

“Okay then, see you tomorrow, husband.” The word slips from you, unbidden, laced with a warmth that surprises even you as you turn on your heel. You make your way toward the guest room, feet padding softly against the floor. Jake's brows knit again, eyes following your form until you pause, hand on the frame of the doorway.

“Why are you heading to the guest room?” His question is quick, a thread of confusion laced with something else-something vulnerable.

“Because we sleep apart, and I wouldn't want my husband's back to break on that stiff, rough bed. The sheets aren't even comfortable,” you say, voice light but with an edge that dares him to react. You step into the room, but glance over your shoulder with eyes that glimmer, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “Besides, I'd rather you break your back or get tired doing me than struggling on a bed.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide with stunned silence as the door closes between you. Jake sits back, eyes fixed on the now-empty hallway, replaying the moment in disbelief. The wife who barely spoke above a whisper at their wedding, who tiptoed through years of silence, had just turned the tables with a single teasing line. His pulse hammers beneath the stillness.

What on earth just happened?

“ARE YOU TELLING ME Y/N JUST TURNED INTO A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON?” Jay's voice, casual yet curious, echoes through the phone. He's speaking to Jake, who shifts from foot to foot, eyes glancing around the boutique as he waits for you to finish picking out a dress for his niece. The sound of soft music drifts around him, mixing with murmurs of other shoppers.

“Exactly that!” Jake's voice comes out louder than intended, drawing looks from the store's staff. A woman in a sleek uniform, brows raised in disapproval, approaches with a pointed glare.

“Sir, please keep your voice down or refrain from talking altogether,” she says, sternly but professional.

Jake's ears burn as embarrassment blooms across his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Through the phone, Jay's laughter rings clear and unapologetic. “You seriously got told off by staff? Man, you're killing me!” Jay's chuckles fade into a smirk that Jake can practically hear. Jay's the same as he's always been-playful, relentless, the older brother who teases but listens when it counts.

“Fine, fine, I'll stop. Tell me what you mean by Y/N changing, just... keep it PG, will you?” Jay's tone is teasing, but curiosity laces through.

Jake's jaw tightens, eyes scanning the store for you as if your sudden return would put him on the spot. “There's nothing intimate going on between us,” he blurts, the words a knee-jerk reaction. His chest tightens with the memory of you resting your hand on him in your sleep last week, the way warmth had crept through him then. He clears his throat. “I mean, she's talking to me more, being... sweet. She listens. It's almost... submissive.”

“I told you, no bedroom details!” Jay chimes in, sarcasm sharp enough to make Jake's teeth clench.

“THIS IS NOT A BEDROOM DETAIL!!!” Jake retorts, frustration coloring his tone. It earns him another hard look from the store associate across the room, who pointedly glances over her glasses. Jake sighs and mouths an apology again, shoulders drooping as he lowers his voice.

“What I mean is, she's more... attentive. She's not arguing as much. It's like she's listening to me for the first time.”

Jay's voice softens, just a hint of seriousness slipping through. “Isn't that how she always is with others?”

“Yeah, with everyone else. Just not with me,” Jake admits, the admission heavy with a history neither of them mention.

“Interesting.” Jay's reply is contemplative, but before he can say more, Jake's voice interrupts, distorted through the line. “Oh shoot, she's coming back. I'll call you later.”

As the call ends, Jake pockets his phone, glancing up just in time to see you walking back with a smile. Jay, on the other side of the city, sets his phone down, a smirk playing at his lips as he thinks of sharing this tidbit with his wife later. Whatever was happening between his brother and sister-in-law, it was about to get even more intriguing.

On the other side, Jake stands, a mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face as you hold up a tiny pink dress. It's perfectly frilly, fit for a little girl. But all he can think is how charming it would look in a size for you—a thought that makes him shake his head, realizing how ridiculous it sounds.

“So, what do you think? Should I get this for Semi?” you ask, eyes sparkling with anticipation. There's already a growing collection of clothes for his niece in your arms, a reminder of how you've embraced being part of his family.

“Are you getting all of them?” he asks, more out of shock than judgment. He never imagined children's clothes could come with such hefty price tags.

“Yes, why? Is this too much? I can cover it if—”

Before you can finish, he interrupts, affronted. “I'll pay. It's for my lady, after all.”

The statement hangs in the air, not romantic as he'd intended but awkward, making your brows twitch slightly. You resist the urge to grimace, forcing a polite smile instead.

A staff member, the same one who had shushed Jake earlier, walks over with an unimpressed expression, exchanging a silent, almost comic glare with him. She gave Jake a look that said 'you're weird and I don't want to talk to you'

'what have I ever done to you' was the look that Jake presented back to the staff before she looked away. You glance between them, slightly confused. Then Jake clears his throat, moving the conversation forward.

“Do you have a similar dress in a bigger size?” His voice drops to almost a whisper. He feels self-conscious asking, but the idea has stuck.

The staff member blinks, taken aback. “Excuse me?” She tilts her head, uncertain if she heard right.

“Yeah, do you have something like this,” Jake gestures at the dress in your hands, “but, you know, for an adult?” A flush of red creeps across his cheeks as he points to you. The staff member nods after a moment, walking off to search, while you stand there stunned, watching her go.

“Why are you buying something for me? Semi’s dress is already pricey. A woman's size will be—”

“It's just a dress,” he interrupts with a small sigh, eyes softening. “Think of it as a gift.”

“But today isn't anything special.”

“Maybe not. But I'd like to make it special,” he replies, voice lowering. “I haven't given you anything since our wedding. That was four years ago.” His words carry a quiet vulnerability as he looks at you, taller and more serious than you expect. You hold his gaze before shifting and mumbling a reluctant, “Fine,” looking away to hide the way your cheeks warm.

The staff returns holding a similar dress, but in an adult size. It's pink, short, and undeniably cute-something that looks a little too daring for your style.

“Will this do?” she asks.

“Absolutely not,” “hell yeah,” you and Jake say in unison. The staff's eyebrows raise as she turns to you, sensing you as the more level-headed one.

“We're not buying it,” you insist, giving Jake a look.

He doubles down. “We are.”

“Jake, no.”

“Why not?”

“It's too short!” you argue, exasperated. He shrugs, eyes softening as he counters, “It's knee-length. That's normal.”

With a dramatic sigh, you roll your eyes and give in. But you don't try it on in the store; the idea of wearing it in front of him makes your heart thud with a mix of nerves and embarrassment. After all, you've barely even shared a bed in weeks—how could you possibly show him a dress like that now?

JAKE’S HEART STOPS FOR A MOMENT AS HE TAKES IN THE SIGHT BEFORE HIM. You, standing in the baby pink dress that hugs your figure just right, with its soft fabric brushing just above your knees. The playful, shy smile you wear as you twirl slightly sends a wave of warmth through him. He never expected to see you like this; the reality strikes him so suddenly that it leaves him breathless.

The laughter of Semi fills the room as she runs around in her matching pink dress, giggling and pulling you along by the hand. The soft glow of the post-birthday celebration lights casts a golden hue, warming up the atmosphere in the living room. Jake sits on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on his knee as he watches you and Semi, his gaze softening with an emotion he hasn't felt in what seems like ages.

A gentle nudge breaks his trance, and he turns to see his mother looking at him with raised brows and a hopeful gleam. “When are you two going to have kids?” she asks, her voice light but laced with longing.

The air in the room shifts. You pause mid-spin, eyes darting to Jake with a look of surprise. This isn't part of the script of your past life; this question throws you off balance, the sudden attention making your heart race.

Jake's father, seated across with a glass of wine in his hand, lets out a dramatic sigh. “I think I'll be long gone before I see any grandchildren from this one,” he jokes, though the weight behind it is unmistakable. The statement slices through the room's cheerful mood, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Jake's jaw tightens, a subtle tension creeping up his spine. He wants kids too, he really does—but not in a house that feels as unstable as theirs has become.

Before he can respond, you surprise everyone, including yourself. “We're trying,” you say, the words slipping out with practiced ease, even as your pulse pounds. The room freezes, all eyes turning toward you in shock.

Jake's eyebrows lift in silent question, but he plays along, shifting to put on an unreadable expression. He nods, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he covers the uncertainty boiling beneath. The room shifts back into a mixture of excitement and surprise.

“Is that true? You're both trying?” Jake's mother's eyes glisten, her hope rekindled as she looks between you and her son.

“Really?” Jake's father echoes, leaning forward, his earlier sarcasm replaced by genuine interest.

Jay, standing near the fireplace, furrows his brow, lips parting in disbelief. Only last week, Jake had confided in him about how distant and weird things had become between you two.

Jake forces a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah... we've been trying for a while.” The lie feels heavy in his mouth, and he shoots you a look that says, Why'd you lie about that?

Your sister-in-law, Jieun, raises her hand, pointing at you with wide eyes. “Since when?” she blurts out, unable to contain her shock.

Jake stutters, “It's been a-a month,” the answer sounding rehearsed yet shaky. He glances at you again, his eyes pleading for an explanation that won't come.

The conversation quickly shifts into an excited buzz, with well-meaning wishes from your in-laws filling the air. You catch Jake's gaze, and despite the tight-lipped smile you give the family, there's a flicker of humor in your eyes. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh.

You both know the truth: the notion of trying for a child is impossibly far from reality.

Heck, it was funny for you to watch.

You were still a virgin. You two didn't even kiss more than once in those four years and they expect a baby to suddenly pop out of you?

And once the party winds down, you find yourself sitting on the couch with Semi by your side. Her wide, curious eyes shine with excitement as she swings her legs back and forth. At just four years old, she's a bundle of endless questions and innocent wonder.

You smile, reaching over to gently ruffle her soft, dark hair. “Does the birthday girl like her dress?” you ask, voice playful.

Semi beams, glancing down at the pink ruffled dress with pride. “It's so pretty,” she chirps, then looks up at you with a thoughtful expression. “But yours is prettier. You always look pretty, Aunty.”

Your heart melts, and you chuckle softly. “Aww, you learned how to give compliments, huh?” you tease, watching as her cheeks turn rosy and she averts her gaze to fiddle with her fingers.

“Aunty!” she whines, wanting you to stop teasing. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in closer and motions for you to do the same. With a curious tilt of your head, you move closer, letting her whisper into your ear. “Will you eat a baby to have a baby?” she asks, voice so serious it makes you freeze for a moment.

You stifle a laugh, your eyes crinkling at the edges. Gently cupping her cheek, you whisper back, “No, sweetie. That's not how it works. But that's grown-up stuff, and we don't talk about it now, do we?”

Semi giggles, her little fingers playing with a toy she received from her grandmother. The sight makes your chest tighten in a bittersweet way. You can almost picture your mother-in-law doting on a future child, fussing over toys and tiny clothes. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, making you shake your head lightly as if to dispel the image.

But a small part of you can't help but smile at the idea, a blush rising to your cheeks. The dream is distant, almost unreachable, and not yet yours to claim.

When you and Jake step out into the cold night, the air nips at your exposed legs below your knees. The dress he had picked out for you, delicate and pastel pink, offers little warmth, and the heels are beginning to pinch with every step. You trail behind him, taking careful, aching strides to avoid twisting your ankle.

Jake notices, stopping suddenly to turn toward you, eyes scanning your shivering frame. “What’s wrong?” His gaze softens as he realizes how exposed you are, legs trembling from the chill. Without hesitating, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. The sudden warmth is welcome, but your teeth still chatter as you mutter, “Wish I had something covering my legs instead.”

He exhales, half exasperated, half amused, before a wry smile forms. “Should I carry you like a princess? You’d be warm then.”

Surprised, you bite back a retort, matching his teasing tone with confidence. “Maybe you should.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up, stunned. “Wait, what?”

“Chill, I was just joking,” you mumble, looking down at the ground. But before you know it, he’s stopped again, this time dropping to one knee. Your eyes widen in shock. “WHAT THE HELL?” you blurt out, stepping back in reflex, heat rising to your cheeks at the unexpected gesture. (more so because you believed he was trying to look up your dress)

Jake looks up, mildly annoyed but patient. “I’m helping you,” he says simply. Before you can argue, he pulls out a pair of slippers from a little carry bag he had brought from home. The realization hits, softening your expression as he glances up. “Lift your leg.”

You comply, feeling foolish for your earlier outburst. He slips the heels off your feet and replaces them with the soft slippers, careful and precise as if proving he has no ulterior motive. The chill in the air suddenly seems less biting.

“You had these the whole time?” you ask, voice softer now, eyes wide with realization. He places the heels into the carry bag, stands up, and meets your gaze with a smirk.

“Yeah. Thought you might need them,” he says, a hint of smugness in his tone. You’re about to thank him when he reminds you with a mock-accusing look, “And you were ready to accuse me of being a pervert.”

The memory makes you feel small, but you muster a sheepish, “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, a touch of amusement in his eyes as the two of you start walking again, your steps now confident and comfortable. His jacket around your shoulders holds a warmth that seems to seep straight to your heart.

“So...” Jake’s voice cuts through the silence, the question you've been dreading finally arriving. “Why did you lie about... us trying for a baby?” His tone is cautious, probing.

You sigh, the answer already clear in your mind. “It was the only way to get them to stop bothering us,” you admit. A pause follows, your gaze flitting up to meet his. You don’t dare to say more, not with your secret burden looming—coming from a future where he is no longer alive and your mission is to keep him safe.

Jake hums in agreement, the tension easing a bit. “I can’t argue with that.” A comfortable silence settles between you, only broken by the sound of your footsteps. He glances at you again and asks, “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, your stomach grumbles. Relief flashes across his face before he reaches out, taking your hand and leading you forward. The two of you approach a small, tucked-away restaurant, its sign faded but familiar. Jake’s eyes light up. “You have to try the cold coffee from that café across the street,” he points out, the fondness in his voice unmistakable.

You nod, memories flickering back. His odd, endearing preferences were things you never forgot. “Fish curry with plain rice and some shrimp on the side?” you guess, eyes twinkling with recognition.

Jake’s head snaps to you, surprise clear as day. He stares, a laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “Since when did you start memorizing my favorites?”

You had heard about his fav things to eat from your brother in law, Jay. But Jake never said it to you himself so the boy was pretty much stunned when you literally memorised them, as if you were waiting to flex this whole time.

You offer a small, knowing smile. “I have my ways.”

The waiter arrives promptly with your orders, and the rich aroma fills the space between you and Jake. He takes a bite, but pauses, eyes drifting to you with a soft, contemplative expression. “We’ve never done this before…” he murmurs, his tone a mix of realization and gentle amusement.

You tilt your head, savoring a piece of shrimp. “You mean this date?” you ask, half-smiling.

“Yeah. I guess that’s what I mean,” he replies, taking a moment before continuing, as if gathering the courage. “I like it. I like how we are now.” He takes a sip of water, and the way he watches you is tender, raw. His hand slides across the table to rest over yours, fingers warm against your skin.

“I don’t know what changed, but I…” He hesitates, eyes locking with yours, a profound intensity that silences you. “I like how we’re not avoiding each other anymore, how we talk instead of fighting over every little thing.”

The sincerity in his words pierces through you, tugging at memories of a future where his absence left a hollow ache in your chest. The pain you’d carried, the distance, the loss—all of it feels heavy in this moment, but now, something else unfurls within you. An unexpected warmth that swells as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, maybe too many, and that’s why we kept drifting apart in those four years we were married. But I want us to stay like this. Is that too much to ask for?” His voice cracks, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The depth of emotion he shows takes your breath away, and your vision blurs as your own tears spill over. The raw honesty in his confession reaches a part of you that had long been buried under grief and guilt. But this isn’t grief—it’s something different, a warmth that wraps around you and fills the spaces that loss once consumed.

“Jake…” you whisper, voice trembling. He blinks rapidly, tears tracing paths down his cheeks as he tries to manage a laugh, a hand lifting to wipe at his face. “Did I go too overboard?” he chuckles, awkwardly, brushing his fingers over yours, an attempt to ease the intensity.

But you can’t answer with words, your heart too full. Instead, you wipe your own tears away, watching him as he takes a deep breath and resumes eating, eyes still red-rimmed, his emotions raw and vivid between you. The silence that follows is... a little satisfying this time around. Your chest tightens, and you realize this feeling—this unexpected, overwhelming tenderness—is the spark you hadn’t felt in what feels like forever.

The confession... It did something to you. It made you feel things or you believed so.

You reach for his hand, this time without hesitation, and hold on as if anchoring both of you to this moment. A shared glance tells him everything you can’t yet put into words: you’re here, with him, and for now, that’s enough.

AS THE DAYS PASSED FOLLOWING THAT UNEXPECTED DINNER, a subtle shift had occurred between you and Jake. It had been a month since then, and despite your hectic lives—you, a dedicated nurse, and him, an ambitious lawyer—something had changed. You continued to sleep separately, a necessity due to your conflicting schedules. Late nights saw you returning home to find Jake already asleep, and early mornings had him leaving before you awoke. This unspoken arrangement was born out of mutual respect for each other’s rest.

However, the reminder of the future haunted you. The date on your wrist, November 4th, hadn’t faded or smudged. It remained stark and vivid, a grim reminder of the fate you knew awaited Jake, filling you with silent dread.

Despite your busy lives, the dinner at that small restaurant had stirred something unspoken between you. A shared tenderness had taken root, and in the brief pauses between work, you found yourself drawn to those moments that whispered of possibilities—moments that spoke of a bond that hadn’t existed before.

The room feels charged with an unspoken tension as you stand there, watching Jake. The question slips from your lips, “Are we sleeping separately again?” masking the tremble in your voice with an attempt at confidence. Jake’s eyes meet yours, an amused smile playing on his lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want to sleep with me?” he asks, casual yet knowing.

You stammer, trying to find an answer that won’t reveal how vulnerable you feel. “No—yes—but—” The uncertainty in your voice makes him chuckle softly, the sound sending warmth through your chest. The realization of your feelings for him washes over you again, clear and inescapable.

“It’s normal to want to sleep with your husband. Don’t worry,” he says reassuringly. His tone is light, yet there’s an edge of tenderness as he turns and walks to the bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, looking back with an expectant eyebrow raise, and you follow.

Inside, the dim light casts soft shadows. The atmosphere feels different tonight, heightened by the realization that, while you’ve shared this space before, this moment feels profoundly intimate. He hesitates for a moment, the usual playful confidence in his manner replaced by a quiet consideration.

Should he lie down first?

Wait for you?

Or speak?

“You don’t need to worry. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. We could even put a pillow between us if you prefer,” he says in a rush, trying to ease the tension. But his words leave you both flushed. You respond, flustered yet honest, “No—you can touch me—I mean...”

Jake’s eyes widen, and a surprised silence falls over you both, broken only by your slightly quickened breaths.

Finally, you break it, murmuring, “So... do we sleep?” You wish the dim light hides your expression, but Jake’s shifting on the bed signals that he’s as unsettled as you are. He lies down first, and you follow, settling into the bed with a space that feels simultaneously too close and too distant.

Minutes pass as the darkness deepens around you. You’re aware of every sound, every breath he takes, and the slight rustle of sheets as you both try to find comfort. The knowledge that he’s staying dressed out of respect doesn’t escape you, and neither does the chill that seeps through the room, despite the blanket. It’s enough to make sleep elusive, even as your heart drums with quiet, unspoken hope.

The air feels thick with tension as neither of you can fall asleep, despite the dim light and the shared silence. Jake gently sits up, his voice breaking the stillness. “I’ll get changed into my night clothes—this is uncomfortable. You should get changed too,” he suggests. His words are practical, but they stir a shyness inside you. The thought of wearing shorts around him makes you feel self-conscious, though the blanket and darkness give you some comfort.

With a deep breath, you agree. You grab your oversized top and shorts, retreating to the bathroom to change. When you return, Jake is already asleep, dressed in a soft T-shirt and shorts. His peaceful expression makes a pang of guilt settle in your chest. You feel both relief and unease at the same time, knowing he’s so close yet so far away.

You lie there, tense in the stillness of the night. Jake’s hand lands instinctively on your stomach, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through you. You hold your breath, carefully shifting his hand away. Just when you think you're safe, his leg shifts under the blanket, pressing gently between your legs. A rush of heat floods your chest as you gently push his leg away, silently exhaling in relief.

In the quiet, you watch him sleep. His messy hair, a small trail of drool escaping his lips—something inside you stirs. Without thinking, you bring your thumb to wipe away the drool, brushing it lightly against your shirt. You stare at him for a moment, your heart racing in ways you can’t fully understand.

For Jake though,

He wakes to find you so close, your noses nearly touching. A small breath escapes him as he pulls back, but then he notices your body, curled into him—one of your legs and arms wrapped around him, as if clinging to his warmth to escape the cold. You’re nestled so comfortably against his chest, and though a small part of him wants to get up, he finds himself content in the moment.

He stares at you, watching as he slips his fingers through your hair, the quiet intimacy settling around him like a comforting blanket. When you stir, half-awake, he expects you to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you bury yourself further into his chest, and he smiles, a little amused by your unconscious need for closeness.

“Morning... Baby,” he says softly, though he’s hoping you’ll move just enough for him to slip out of bed.

“Morningg,” you murmur, nuzzling his chest. He notices how you don’t seem to mind the nickname, a small sign that you’re still in that dreamy, sleepy state. He wants to pull away, but he doesn't want to disturb you, so he asks, “Can you move a bit, baby?”

You barely stir, your arms and legs still tangled with his. “Too cold,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“I know, baby. I’ll turn the heater on for you, is that good?” he whispers, his voice tender. He’s careful not to wake you fully, knowing you won’t even remember this when you wake up.

An hour later, you wake up alone in the bed, the soft comforter still wrapped around your legs. You stretch and yawn, rubbing your eyes, only to hear the door creak open. Jake stands there, a plate in hand—an omelette and a fruit salad. You blink, unsure if you’re still dreaming, and pinch your cheek, just to make sure this isn’t some figment of your imagination.

“What's that?” you ask, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Breakfast in bed,” Jake says with a playful grin, setting the plate down in front of you.

“For me?” you ask, surprised and touched.

“Who else?” he replies with a shrug, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“Why...?” You blink at him, unsure of why he's being so considerate, so affectionate.

“Why not?” he answers, teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes your heart flutter.

You stare at the food in front of you, but the nerves kick in. “Well, uhm... I haven’t brushed.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, waving off your concerns.

“No, it’s not. It’s gross. I do care about germs,” you argue, a bit embarrassed. Before he can say anything else, you rush off to brush your teeth, feeling a little self-conscious. You quickly freshen up, brushing your teeth with the toothpaste, hoping that’ll help with the lingering awkwardness.

When you return, you take a bite, and the emotion hits you harder than you expect. You don’t quite know why, but the tenderness of his gesture fills you with gratitude, and a soft lump forms in your throat.

“Why?” you ask again, your voice shaky, as you sip some water. The question has been swirling in your mind ever since you saw him standing there, holding that plate.

“Hm?” he hums, genuinely confused, not fully understanding why you're so emotional.

“Why are you being so nice... and romantic?” You wince after speaking, regretting your words, but you can't take them back now.

Jake tilts his head, his smile fading slightly. “Like I said a month ago... I meant those words. I want us to stay like this... And not go back to how it was in those four years.. Are we really that immature to let it happen again? ” The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard, and for a moment, you can see the hurt in his eyes.

It's raw, honest, and you feel a knot twist in your chest, not having a reply to his genuine question.

THE DAYS AND MONTHS THAT FOLLOW ARE UNEXPECTEDLY TENDER, filled with moments that remind you of what being husband and wife is meant to feel like. The shared smiles, lingering touches, and quiet mornings are sweeter than they have ever been, and for the first time in a long while, peace seems attainable. Yet, there is an undercurrent that stirs beneath it all—the date that looms, casting a shadow over your contentment.

November 4th.

With the month drawing nearer, your heart starts to tighten with an anxious grip. Paranoia seeps into the quiet moments, the fear of what November 4th could mean—what it has meant in the past—makes the days feel more fragile. Your mind races, replaying scenarios and doubts that you can’t shake off. Each sweet gesture, each kind word from him, is tinged with the knowledge that the date approaches, threatening to unravel everything you’ve rebuilt.

Jake’s expression is heavy with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes hinting at the long day he’s had. You offer, “I’ll heat up the dinner,” and turn toward the kitchen, but he stops you with a gentle grasp around your wrist. Before you can react, he pulls you back, pressing you against the wall. The soft strains of a romantic song drift from the living room, creating an intimate, almost fragile atmosphere.

He’s close—closer than usual—and you feel the warmth radiating from his body as well as the subtle scent of his cologne. The proximity sends your pulse racing.

“Jake?” you say softly, confusion lacing your voice as you look up at him. His face is unreadable, the dim lighting casting a shadow over the tired lines of his features. His eyes meet yours, carrying an unspoken emotion.

“Mm?” he murmurs, his voice hushed, as if not to disturb the moment. His hands find their way around you, holding you securely against him, and he leans his chin on your head. The gesture feels protective, desperate even.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your words barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re seeking clarification or reassurance. His embrace tightens for a moment, and you feel his chest rise and fall against yours as he takes a deep breath.

“Can you stop calling me Jake?” he says quietly, the request landing softly, yet weighted.

Surprise flashes through you. “What do you want me to call you?” you ask, voice muffled against his shirt. The question feels vulnerable, as if shifting something fundamental between you both.

“I don’t know... something like... baby, darling, honey... or anything,” he admits, a subtle flush spreading across his cheeks despite the solemn tone. You catch the shy dip of his eyes, and a faint smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re being quite demanding,” you tease, looking up into his face. His lips part slightly as he considers your words.

“This isn’t being demanding,” he counters, pausing just long enough for the silence to underline his meaning. His eyes search yours, raw and full of an unnamed plea. “I just want to spend my last months with you, thinking we’re just... normal. Like any other couple.”

His words sink in, bringing with them an ache that spreads through your chest. The silence that follows is heavy, laced with all the things unsaid and the truth that’s pressing in on both of you. You lift a hand, letting your fingers brush the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes soften, dark lashes casting shadows against his skin as he watches you.

There’s something fragile in this moment, a bittersweet understanding passing between you that makes your throat tighten. The future looms, uncertain and unkind, but for now, you’re here, held close, suspended in the tender present.

Jake’s voice lowers, a tremor in its depths that betrays the weight of his words. “You might not believe me, but... I come from a reality where I’m dead. So, I hope we can at least be nice to each other in my last moments. Can you do that?”

A stunned silence follows, your breath catching in your throat as his confession hangs in the air. You believe him; how could you not when you come from the same reality? Eyes widening, you step back, raising your wrist to show the dark, unerasable mark: November 4th. The ink-like number seems to pulse, a constant reminder of a fate that binds you both.

Jake’s eyes mirror your shock. He releases you, just enough to reveal his own wrist. There it is, the same haunting date. The mark seems alive, almost mocking, as if counting down with every heartbeat.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, the silence heavy with shared grief and realization. The next second, you’re in his arms again, your face buried in his chest as he pulls you close, his own face pressed into your hair. The world around you blurs, reduced to the rapid thumping of your heart and the warmth of his embrace.

“I... please don’t... leave me this time,” you plead, your voice breaking under the weight of your fear. The memory of finding him lifeless in the world you came from, the coldness of that reality, rushes back with a cruel force.

“I will try,” he whispers, his voice barely steady as he runs a hand down your back in a soothing gesture. “We changed the relationship, right? So maybe... just maybe, we can avoid death too.”

You both stand there, unmoving as the moment stretches out. It feels absurd, two souls transported from a fractured future, now clinging to each other in the present in a fragile hope. Yet the thought of letting go is unbearable, so you don’t. For now, the reality of the present is enough.

JAKE’S FINGERS TREMBLE SLIGHTLY AS HE HOLDS OUT THE SMALL BOX, A HINT OF NERVOUSNESS CREASING HIS BROW. “This is for you.” His voice is softer than usual, his eyes searching yours for a response. The box is familiar, a relic from the present you left behind, steeped in memories. Inside is the ancestral ring, one that Jake’s mother entrusted to you after his death—a token that held more value than any wedding ring could.

“I wasn’t... couldn’t give it to you before, but now... I’d like you to have it.” His voice is almost a whisper as he takes your hand, slipping the cool metal onto your finger. His touch lingers, warm and careful, as if anchoring the moment between you.

You look down at the ring, its delicate design catching the dim light and glistening softly. The weight of it brings back a rush of memories that mix grief with an unexpected warmth. Meeting his gaze, you let a small, genuine smile curve your lips. “Thank you. After you… I mean, after your death, your mother gave it to me,” you say, voice thick with the past, “but I’m glad it’s you giving it to me now.”

The way his eyes widen before softening speaks volumes—acceptance, regret, and hope, all blending seamlessly as he draws you closer.

Jake’s expression shifts, a soft smile forming as he leans in, his body pressing yours gently against the bedroom wall. His breath mingles with yours, warm and scented faintly with his cologne. His eyes trace your features, holding a glimmer of something tender and fragile. You raise a brow in playful defiance, a silent challenge, and a sheepish smile tugs at his lips. Without another word, he cups your face, his thumb grazing your cheek, and leans in until the space between you disappears.

The first touch of his lips is tentative, testing. A shiver races down your spine as his mouth moves with a gentleness that makes your heart stutter. Your eyes flutter open for a second, catching the serene expression on his face before closing again as you respond, deepening the kiss. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to reality.

When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing in short, uneven gasps. The room is silent except for the soft crackle of a song playing somewhere in the background. Jake’s eyes open, and in them, you see a question—a hesitation laced with anticipation. “Do you want to go further?” His voice, barely above a whisper, holds a vulnerability that makes your pulse quicken.

You exhale softly, a hint of a smile teasing your lips as you match his boldness. “How far can you go?” The playful edge in your voice makes him chuckle, low and breathy.

“As far as you want to go.” The words are a promise, and before you can respond, his lips capture yours again, more confident this time, as his hand moves to the strap of your dress, gently sliding it off of your shoulders.

THE NEXT FEW WEEKS PASS IN A COMFORTING CALM, the bond between you and Jake strengthening with each passing day. You're no longer weighed down by the regret of the past, but instead, you focus on cherishing the present. Yet, there's still a lingering unease.

Jake driving the car is something that continues to gnaw at you. It's not just a simple fear; it's the haunting memory of the future you came from, where that very action led to his tragic end. As November nears, the pressure builds. You look at the date on your wrist—November 4th—and the thought of losing him again, of it becoming reality, is too much to bear. Your chest tightens, and you feel a mix of helplessness and dread, hoping with every fiber of your being that this time, things will be different.

Jake offers a reassuring smile, the kind that tries to mask his own unease as he softly says, “Chill, I’ll be back in an hour, alright?” His hand moves up to gently smooth your hair, eyes soft with understanding as he takes in the worry etched across your face. You cling tighter to his arm, voice trembling as you ask, “Is it important?”

He nods, and the hopeful part of you crumbles. The instinct to keep him close, to refuse, is almost overwhelming. But before you can protest, he leans forward, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. His hands slip down to rest on your shoulders as he looks at you earnestly.

“I promise I’ll be back. Now, will my pretty wife give me a smile so I can come back even sooner?” The playful plea tugs at your lips, and despite the fear swirling inside, you manage a small, forced smile. He chuckles softly, ruffling your hair before turning to leave.

You trail behind him to the door, eyes glued to the taillights of his car as they fade down the street. The ache in your chest sharpens, and you glance down at the ancestral ring on your finger, tracing its smooth surface as if the touch alone could make your wish come true: Please, come back safely.

The minutes stretch painfully long, and every ten minutes, you can’t resist sending a text, the same anxious message: “If you’re okay, just send a heart emoji.” True to his word, Jake replies with a heart every time—until the fifty-minute mark.

The silence is deafening. Your heart thunders as you stare at your phone, willing the screen to light up. Nothing. The dread coils tighter, stealing the air from your lungs. You take a shaky breath, but it barely settles you. Panic sets in, and you hit the call button. The phone doesn’t connect; the ring tone never plays. Your chest tightens.

In desperation, you call Jay, your brother-in-law. His voice is laced with confusion as he picks up. “Jay, is Jake with you?” The silence that follows your frantic question only amplifies your fear. “No, why? What’s going on?” he asks, suddenly serious. Before you can answer, he cuts the call, sensing the urgency and attempting to help in any way he can.

The next hour drags like an eternity, your anxiety swallowing every rational thought. You pace the room, eyes darting to the clock, phone clenched in your shaking hand. Then, after what feels like a lifetime, you hear the distant purr of an engine. Your pulse stutters as Jake’s car comes into view, whole and unharmed.

But you don’t relax. Not until you see him. The door swings open, and there he is, frustration etched into his features as he steps inside. Your breath catches, relief and anger colliding within you.

Jake's expression softens as he speaks, keeping his voice low despite the frustration. “Why’d you call Jay over something like this? My phone died while I was working. I charged it and got caught up in the case. It’s embarrassing.”

Your eyes well up, the weight of worry turning to a sting of hurt. “So? It’s not important?” Your voice wavers, raw with emotion. “I was terrified, Jake! I didn’t want to lose you again. Sorry for being the clingy wife you’re ashamed of.”

Turning to leave, you barely make a step before he’s there, blocking your path. His eyes search yours, but instead of a defensive remark, he pulls you close, enveloping you in an embrace that tells you more than words could. His arms tighten, anchoring you to him as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s strange, but I promise I won’t say that again, okay?”

His breath is warm against your hair as he leans his cheek on your head, his heartbeat steady against your own erratic one. Despite the tension, you sense his understanding, a silent acknowledgment of your fear. He’s learning to hold your worry without judgment.

“I was so scared, Jake. I thought I’d lose you all over again.” Your voice cracks, and he feels the tremor in your body. He wants to say the right thing, anything to soothe the tremble in your words, but all he can do is hold you tighter.

Both of you are haunted by that date imprinted on your wrists, “November 4th.” A reminder that looms like an uninvited shadow, a constant whisper of what could happen.

THE DAY ARRIVES, a heavy silence filling the air between you and Jake. His promise lingers like a protective shield around you both: he won’t drive, he won’t leave. His presence is a balm for the fear that pulses in your chest. As the two of you snuggle on the couch, the soft glow of the TV playing a rom-com, you turn to him with a worried look, your voice low and unsure.

“What if something bad happens while we’re in the house?” you whisper, nuzzling into his warmth. The thought of losing him, of the world continuing without him, feels unbearable.

Jake shifts, his arm wrapping tighter around you as he looks down at you, his breath warm against your neck. “Nothing will happen. And if it does, I’ll protect you,” he assures, his tone strong and sure, though his own heart is heavy. He knows how much your fear weighs on you, and he wants to shoulder it for you.

But the thought of you living without him—he can’t imagine it. He brushes your hair from your face gently, his voice a soft promise. “I love you too much for that.” His words come out naturally, like it’s something he’s been holding back but feels right now to say. It’s the first time you hear him say it, and the weight of those words floods your heart with warmth, knowing this is real.

“I get it. I won’t put my life at risk,” he murmurs, though there’s a quiet uncertainty in his words, an unspoken truth that he would never let anything harm you—even at the cost of his own safety.

You glance up at him, your lips pressing together in a worried frown. “You better not,” you mumble, not able to let go of the fear completely. You’ve spent the whole day together, in the safety of your home, trying to ignore the impending dread that the date will pass and nothing will change. Watching TV, cooking together, each small moment a reminder of how much he means to you—and how fragile life can be.

You curl up closer to him, as if physically wrapping yourself around him can keep him safe. Your eyes glance at the clock, the seconds ticking by too slowly. Every moment spent together now feels like a treasure, and you want to hold on to it forever.

The two of you lie in bed, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a gentle warmth over your forms. His hand rests tenderly over yours, fingers interlocking. He watches you as you sleep, your face relaxed, peaceful. A quiet whisper escapes his lips: “I love you.” His eyes linger on your peaceful expression, your other arm still clinging to him as if you’re unwilling to let go even in sleep.

He leans over to turn off the lamp, and then his gaze falls to his wrist—where the date once was. It’s gone. A wave of disbelief washes over him. The tension that has gripped him for so long begins to melt away. Perhaps it wasn’t an omen after all, but a reminder that after November 4th, a new chapter awaited them both.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your wrist to find the same thing: no date. Relief floods him, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling you even closer into his arms, savoring the moment.

But he knows, as much as this moment feels like a new beginning, there will still be challenges ahead. The fear you carry about him driving is not something that will fade overnight. Your worry, rooted in a past he knows you can’t shake, will take time to heal. But for now, he holds you close, understanding, and promises silently that he’ll be patient, allowing you to find peace in your own time.

TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE FATEFUL DATE, and though life has taken you and Jake through different stages, there’s an undeniable warmth between the two of you. Sitting at the family dinner table, surrounded by loved ones, the air is filled with laughter, conversation, and the quiet hum of joy.

Semi, now a cheerful five-year-old, eats her meal quietly, occasionally looking up with shy glances.

You glance over at Jake, noticing him take a deep breath as he prepares to speak, his hand resting on the table near yours. It’s clear he’s nervous, even though it’s just family. He clears his throat, the words finally tumbling out: “So… We’re having a baby.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Jake’s father scoffs, not giving him an ounce of reaction, while his mother rolls her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, you can fool us one time, not twice,” she says, clearly referencing the last family dinner, where you had tried to casually mention trying for a baby, only for him to play along. He felt the blame was entirely on him, but you knew the truth—it was a team effort.

You chuckle softly to yourself, leaning into Jake’s side, your heart fluttering at the thought of a new life, a new chapter. He meets your gaze, his lips curving into a small smile, even amidst the teasing.

This moment, while filled with playful mockery, marks something deeper. You’re finally here together, stronger and more united than ever before. And this new adventure? It’s the start of a new journey that no one can take from you.

"Really, Y/n’s pregnant. We're having a baby," Jake says, his voice laced with excitement. His mother, skeptical, eyes you closely. "Is that true?"

Without waiting for Jake’s confirmation, you nod, feeling his fingers intertwine with yours beneath the table, his touch calming your nerves.

"I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if this is fake," his dad grumbles, irritation mixing with a hint of hope.

Jay, barely containing his amusement at the scene, watches the family react, while Jake proudly pulls out the ultrasound pictures, revealing the truth. His parents take turns looking at the images, jaws dropping in surprise. Jay, knowing already, can’t help but chuckle.

"Father was starting to question your masculinity. Glad you proved him wrong," Jay teases, earning a gentle nudge from Jieun, urging him to keep it light.

"Wait... So there’s a grandkid on the way?" Jake’s mother recovers first, grinning with hopeful excitement. Jake nods, and your heart swells at the thought of everything that's to come. This moment, this family, it feels like the beginning of something truly special.

Jake’s mother leans forward, still processing, but the excitement is slowly bubbling up. “A grandchild? Really? My little boy having a little one? I’m going to spoil that baby so much.”

Jake chuckles, glancing at you. “Well, you already spoil Semi enough, so I guess it’s fair.”

“Hey, I’m a great grandma-in-training,” she quips, giving Semi an affectionate pat. “But if you two need any advice, I’m here.”

Your heart swells seeing the warmth in her eyes. But then, Jake’s dad, clearly trying to keep his cool, mutters, “I’ll believe it when I see a baby in my arms.”

“You’ll see him,” Jake says, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Or her, right, Y/n?”

You smile, feeling the weight of the moment. “Definitely,” you whisper, feeling a rush of emotion.

Jay, still grinning, can’t help but poke at his younger brother. “So, what’s the plan, huh? You two gonna have one of those perfect Pinterest-worthy baby showers or just skip the whole thing?”

Jieun smacks his arm lightly. “Don’t make them nervous, Jay. Let them enjoy the moment.”

Jake laughs, looking over at you with that same loving gaze. “Honestly, I think we just need to take it one step at a time. But yeah, we’ll get there.”

“You know, when you have a baby, you’ll see just how much you need each other,” his dad says more seriously now, a rare moment of wisdom breaking through his tough exterior. “It’s not just about being a parent, it’s about being there for each other even more.”

Jake nods, his hand tightening around yours as if to say, “I’ve got you, always.”

The whole family seems to settle into a comfortable silence after that, everyone soaking in the news in their own way, but all of them sharing the same unspoken bond.

“Guess we’ll need one more chair for next time,” Jay jokes, breaking the silence, and everyone bursts out laughing.

You glance at Jake, his eyes full of joy, and your heart feels fuller than it ever has. There’s something about being surrounded by family—being with him—that feels right. “Yeah, we’ll need one more chair,” Jake agrees softly, his gaze drifting to the future, to the family that’s just beginning.

In the end, you and Jake had proven the vows true—til death do us part. Through all the challenges, fears, and moments of doubt, you had always found your way back to each other. The promises made, the trust built, and the love that had endured everything now stood as a testament to what you had together. With every touch, every shared laugh, and every quiet moment, you knew that no matter what, your hearts were bound—for life—and beyond.

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rin-may-1103 · 10 months ago

Text

The Disappointment.

This may or may not have multiple parts, depending on whether I feel like writing more. (dcxdp, demon twin au.) also based on some post I read a while ago... can't remember for the life of me who wrote it but if any of you guys do, let me know.

"This way," Mother hissed, snatching Danny's wrist tightly. Damian lagged behind, twisting his head this way and that, keeping an eye out for anyone following them.

"Quick now, we must hurry." She hissed again, her eyes darting back and forth, eyeing the small nicks and scratches she had left previously to lead them away.

Danny glanced back at his brother, watching as he scowled and defiantly lifted his head. His baby brother would die before he allowed anyone to see him defeated.

Glancing back to the path, Danny watched as Mother took down anyone who was in their way, killing without hesitation. As he watched another body hit the floor, Grandfather's muttered words from when he left dinner, ran through the back of his head, "Bring the disappointment to me after sundown. I've seen enough."

There was nowhere in the world they could hide that Grandfather wouldn't follow. They would be hunted for the rest of their short lives, hiding in fear like cowards. Grandfather would not rest until he drew blood.

"In here, Habibi, quiet now. Quickly, both of you." Mother finally let Danny's wrist go, darting across the hall to open the secret door. Danny moved to the side, signaling to Damian that he would keep watch. His brother nodded his head and quickly made his way over, ducking into the small, dark, and eerie corridor.

Mother crouched next to Damian, running her hands over his face like this would be the last time she would see it. knowing her, she probably expected it to be. No one went against their grandfather without severe consequences.

Glancing over his shoulder, Danny studied the shadows; there was a lookout patrol moving closer, which meant they only had a minute before they were discovered. Gritting his teeth, Danny darted across the hall, but instead of joining his mother and brother in the dark corridor, he pushed the wall back, leaving only the missing brick his mother had initially taken out.

"Danyal!" his mother hissed, her voice full of stern panic.

"Apologies Mother, but I can not let you do this," Danny replied, glancing to the side to see how much time he had left. Forty seconds. Crouching down, he picked up the brick and looked back at his mother. Damian stood next to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. Obviously, he hadn't figured out Danny's plan, otherwise he would have started shouting at him.

Mother stared at him for a second, her stern eyes wavering for the first time in Danny's life that he could remember. "Take care of him for me, keep him safe when I can not," Danny asked, grabbing the hood hanging around the back of his neck.

Mother's eyes teared up, but she straightened her back, her black hair framing her pretty face. "You've made up your mind then," she said, her voice low and steady. She rested her hand on Damian's shoulder, giving Danny a nod of understanding. "You are like your father, his love makes him weak."

"But," she continued, kneeling down in a bow, "You are of the demon's blood, it runs in your veins just like mine. Your actions will not be forgotten, nor will they be for nothing. You have my word, tifl alqamar. I love you, Habibi."

Danny nodded his head, unable to voice the thoughts clogging his throat. Instead, he took a silent breath, pulled his hood and mask into place, and shoved the final brick into place. Sealing off his precious family just in time to hear the guards around the corner.

Turning around, Danny silently stalked forward, drawing his shoulders back. The group rounded the corner and stopped, watching him in anticipation. Pitching his voice just slightly to the left and rolling his tongue, Danny spoke in a neutral voice, "take me to grandfather."

The two guards in front shared a look, but the ones in the back straightened up and moved aside. Marching forward, Danny passed the two hesitating guards and with a quick slice, brought them to their knees. He needed this to work, there was no room for mercy, no matter how much he hated it.

"I am the grandson of the demon head, you will respect me as you respect him. there will be no next time." Danny continued walking, pretending to not care if the two managed to follow or not. the remaining guards trailed behind him, silently observing him.

Danny was glad Mother had insisted on them matching today. otherwise, his plan would have failed long before he made it to his grandfather's door.

Stopping in front of the painted carved wood that was grandfather's door, Danny idly studied the carvings and statues around the grand hall. He remembered all the stories of how grandfather had collected them over his lifetime; grand stories of bloodshed and cunning manipulation.

His eyes settled on the one farthest away, with the least interesting story. It was considered ordinary, placed next to art worth billions. But it was Danny's favorite. It was a simple green crystal, carved like a crescent moon.

so simple, yet the most beautiful piece in Danny's opinion. He had always hoped he would die beneath the stars and his ever-faithful friend the moon. Maybe, instead of beneath them, he could die amongst them.

He would take it with him, he decided.

Turning sharply, Danny marched over to the small pedistal and plucked the crystal into his hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he shoved it into a side pocket and returned back to his position.

They only had to wait for another minute before the door opened, grandfather's servants clearing a path for Danny to walk through.

"I see your mother did not drag you away," Grandfather mused, sitting in his large chair. His dark eyes studied Danny's form, taking in the katana on his back, and the hood and mask concealing his face. He was dressed like he would for a mission; no discernable features, no sign of who he was or wasn't. The perfect image of an assassin.

"at least you aren't a coward," Grandfather hummed, standing from his seat. He slowly pulled out his own katana, aiming it at Danny in a challenge. "no, just disappointing. but you are my blood and that earns you the right to die an honorable death. Draw your sword child, and fight like the warrior you are."

Danny bowed like he had been taught, then without another moment of hesitation, drew his sword and lunged.

He wished he could say it was a drawn-out battle of strength and minds, but it was not. for Danny was only ten years old, and his grandfather had hundreds of years of training and discipline behind him.

he gazed up at his grandfather as his knees hit the ground, his katana dropping to the ground as his hand reached up to the sword impaling his chest. Grandfather's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, contempt for the useless boy he had just sentenced to death.

but his contempt did not bother Danny, no instead it drew a smile to his face. As much as Grandfather lorded his sharp mind over them, he had never been able to stop Danny from surprising him. So, with a burst of adrenaline, Danny allowed the small shuriken he hid in his sleeve to drop to his left hand and buried it deep into his grandfather's chest.

grandfather lunged back, pulling his katana with him, removing the only thing keeping Danny upright. Danny's body hit the ground, and with the last of his strength, he twisted his head so he could listen as his grandfather cried out in anger.

Grandfather's breath was heavy, the sound of him removing the dagger filling the silence. the shuriken was dropped to the ground with a sharp clatter, falling just a few feet from Danny's face.

"you," Grandfather huffed, "aren't such a disappointment after all. I'll grant you one last honor and keep you in the family tomb. Rest now, Damian, you have fought well."

Danny smiled, the cold feeling of blood loss crawling through his body, but not fast enough to block out the pressure of the moon crystal still in his pocket. He hoped Mother had gotten Damian out in time, and he hoped Damian could forgive him for what he had done.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #demon twin au #character death #mistaken identity #difficult choices #danny took damian's place #Talia wanted them to leave together while she distracted Ra's #she saw the stubbornness in danny's eyes and knew she didn't have the time to fight him #so now she's taking damian to bruce as quickly as she can #because it's only a matter of time before Ra's figures it out

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sourle · 1 month ago

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I love your Au so much! I feel so bad to the y/n so much..so I got a idea came out of my mind while I listened to silly billy(a dang popular fnf song) and it remind me of that au of if y/n get heavily tired of been ignored just because of they past..So if y/n became a killer like the other, they would sing the line of the silly billy song( IM SO SORRY IF YOU DONT UNDERSTAND ENGLISH ISBT NY FIRST LANGUAGE AND IT WAS THE IDEA I HAVE-)

Proud of me

Silly Billy

WARNINGS: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, SLIGHT GORE, READ AT YOUR OWN RISKS!

Note: "I'll make— you say— how proud you are of me."

It wasn't intended, really. You've never thought the hatred could get this bad. How? Why? Taph..

Did they lied to him? Did they influenced him?

You choked on your tears, gripping the picture frame. It hurts so much to know no one trusted you anymore, not even Taph.

The sound of your shuddering breathing and sobs filled the silence in the cabin. You were moved by Shedletsky to another cabin, furthest from the other, saying it was necessary. But seeing as how close it is to the path leading to where the killer's hideout was, worried you.

Though he insisted on you staying there, alone. Taph were previously your cabin-mates. Guess now he isn't seeing as he moved his belongings into Dusekkar's cabin before you were moved.

Did you do something? What wrong did you do? You can't remember.

Alone. Everytime. Every second. Every hour. Every day. Every. Ticking. Time.

Are they not convinced enough you've changed?

You still stay friendly with them despite everything.

You stare at the familiar panel in front of you, seeing the screen you vouch to never touch ever again.

The time is almost over. It's almost the end time.

You heard a scream, one that's familiar to Dussekkar's voice. You got up, hiding the panel away from everyone, and left the hill.

Running towards the voice you saw both Dussekkar and Guest limping, Chance's gun exploded on him in an attempt to save Dusekkar from Jason.

Taking out your gun, you shoot it at Jason. It hits, stunning him. Giving both Dussekkar and Guest to escape, without even a thanks from either one.

Are you that bad? They never acknowledge you anymore. Not even Him. Taph.

You snapped back into reality hearing Chance pained groans. Your eyes widen as he runs up to you and shoves you behind them towards the killer

Then you felt it. The machete hitting your neck. Scar so deep it bleeds a river, unfortunately not enough to end you from the pain.

You felt him pull the machete back, resuming chase on Chance who's low. You choked, grasping at the wound on your neck.

Falling to the ground with sob you can't even get out of your mouth. The pain felt like it was burning, it's agonizing.

You heard another scream. Shouting out Taph's name. No.

He's in danger, get up. GET UP!

You can't, despite you trying. You can't. You're close to death, yet seems like The Spectre didn't want you to.

You squint your eyes, remembering something. You held back the pain, clenching your teeth.

The second tick, 10 seconds.

You muster up all your energy, a panel opened up in front of you.

You can't give up.

5 seconds.

You pulled yourself towards the panel. Reaching a hand out to click that one button.

You hissed, feeling the pain sharpened.

You're good enough! You're enough! You'll prove them!

I'll make them proud of me.

Builderman stares at the timer, confused on why it restarted. He turns to the other who looks confused as well.

Is there a continuous round? Last time he check there's none. New event?

He turns to Shedletsky and Guest, both staring out at the area near the mansion. Everyone is here, except Two time. Said they'll go check the whole map to see what's going on.

SNAP—

Builderman, Shedletsky, and Guest turn their attention to the snapping noise. It sounds so familiar— Is it c00lkid?

There they stood, over Two time's mangled body.

Is that— [Name]?

"Am I strong enough? Did I prove enough to be better!? Please say you're proud of me!"

They stare at you, eyes widen. Shedletsky took out his sword, Guest ready himself. Builderman, oh.

He's having a flashback. He knows what your capabilities are.

I'm sorry.

#lemon rambles #lemon writes #ask #anon ask #forsaken #forsaken x reader #yearning for a touch au #>tags devider<#taph #shedletsky #builderman #guest 1337 #chance #dusekkar #x reader #killer!reader

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mggslover · 3 months ago

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🤓☝️ may i request for your first time series the first time spencer lets reader take control during sex? not too sure how you feel about sub spencer but im horny for it and i’d love to see what you do

edging sub spencer genre: smut 18+ cw: sub!spencer x dom!reader, mentions of spencer being insecure about his masculinity, mentions of p in v sex, tied hands, handjob, edging, breastplay, oral (f receiving), thigh fucking, bit of degradation, religious comparisons wc: 2,4k a/n: am i a sub spencer fan?! pull up in the- yes lol i very much am. i cannot even call these drabbles anymore. if anyone is wondering why your requests are taking so long, this is the reason. my first time exploring this dynamic. i hope you'll enjoy, let me know your thoughts!

“Come on, baby. You’re the one who begged me for this.”

Spencer whimpered underneath you in response. He sat up straight on your shared bed, upper body rested against the headframe, long legs spread over the sheets, as your naked body hovered over his. And most importantly, his hands were tied behind his back with a silk red fabric.

Spencer craned his neck, trying to press his lips to yours, but you simultaneously leaned away from him. You shook your head, tsking. “What did I tell you?”

Twinkling hazel eyes blinked up at you, his eyebrows caught in a slight furrow.

“You can’t tell me you forgot,” you purred, fingertips trailing the curve of his jaw. “What did I tell you, Spencer?” you repeat with more force in your tone.

He visibly swallowed as your nails dragged down his neck. “That I’m not allowed to touch you.”

“And why’s that?” You hummed.

“Because sexual denial will increase the release of dopamine, and—oh…” he closed his eyes in delight as your nails continued their path down his chest.

“—and the release of oxytocin and serotonin. It will… in general… Jesus… make you more sensitive, which will heighten your pleasure.”

He had hurriedly finished his last words, letting out a deep breath of relief once you nodded in confirmation.

“And all we want is for you to feel good. Isn’t that right, baby?”

He nodded fervently, a deep moan escaping his throat as your fingers grazed the skin of his upper thigh, carefully avoiding his throbbing length.

-`♡´-

It had all started last week, when you came home on a dreary Thursday evening. Immensely frustrated from your day at work.

Spencer oftentimes suggested sex when you were feeling stressed out. Sexual intercourse is known for lowering blood pressure and boosting happy hormones.

Usually this would result in him leading you to the bedroom where he’d gently press you down onto the mattress. He’d crawl on top of you, lips immediately finding yours, giving gentle pecks as his hands roamed up and down the sides of your body.

You’d have sensual sex. Sweet. Vanilla. It was the norm, and when it came to sex, Spencer wanted to keep to the norm. Sexuality and masculinity were deeply intertwined for him, and in both of these aspects, he felt like he didn’t fit into the traditional roles of a man, causing him to feel the need to approach sex textbook-wise.

The sex was good for the both of you. You never minded seeing your boyfriend on top of you. His lips slightly agape as he fought back his moans, hair falling into his face with every push of his hips, shoulders shuddering as he came inside of you. And for Spencer, he was always happy to be there.

So, it was entirely new when you came home that day and tugged him by the collar of his shirt the second you entered the house. Spencer’s mouth was still in a gasp when you hungrily pressed your lips to his, tongue finding his without building the moment up like you’d usually do.

Your body pulled flush against him. The softness of your breasts pressed against his hard chest. He was able to feel the peaks of your nipples even through the fabric of clothes.

“Are you okay?” Spencer choked out as you cupped him roughly through his pants.

“I just need you, Spence. I need to use you.”

Those words were almost enough to make him spill in his underwear. And indeed, the second you had moved to the couch and straddled him (an entirely new position), taking his cock in your soft hand as you sunk down onto him, it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to fill you up with his release.

You needed the control and security after having been bossed around at work. Spencer, on the contrary, felt too much in control at his job. Setting a profile and finding evidence and whereabouts on an unsub was very precise work, not even mentioning the huge amount of pressure on saving people’s lives.

He never realized how good it felt to let go. To trust someone else in taking charge, in taking care of him. At that moment he didn’t think about portraying a certain type of masculinity. Instead of holding back his moans and settling on deep groans, he whimpered against your mouth as you fucked him. Squirming and whining underneath your touch as he begged you for more.

His reactions didn’t go unnoticed by you. When you both had recovered and were cleaned up, you brought up the subject of this sub-dom dynamic, and it was very easy for Spencer to give in to exploring it more.

-`♡´-

“P-please.”

“What’s that?”

“Please touch me,” Spencer softly cried, fisting the pillow behind his back with the little grip he had.

You leaned in closer. Your breath tickled against his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before you licked a bold stripe up the skin.

A strangled moan left his throat. You smiled at him, pleased with yourself. It deeply turned you on that you could do whatever you wanted to him, that he’d beg you for anything that you could give him.

His body responded to every ghost of your touch. Your lips trailed his throat, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Occasionally leaving lingering marks and bites until you made your way up his jaw.

“Is this what you wanted, Spence?” You teased as you put your hand around his thick shaft.

“Yes,” he moaned, his head falling back against the headboard. “Exactly that.”

You pumped his length in a steady rhythm, flicking your palm to enhance the sensation.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. Such a pretty boy. Your cock is so hard and ready for me.”

He shivered at your words. He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have you hovering above him, breasts swaying with every movement of your hand. You were so good to him. When his gaze blinked from your breasts to your face, seeing you seductively smile but your eyes radiating a gentle sweetness, he started wondering if there might really be a God. You were too heavenly to be here on Earth, pleasing him like there was no better enjoyment in life.

Your eyes were fixed on his cock, watching his precum gather at the tip. You circled the sensitive skin with a soft stroke of your thumb. Spencer used the momentary distraction to dive in, his lips catching around your nipple. “Oh god,” you gasped in pleasure, the sensation going straight to your core. His tongue made quick work of stimulating the nub. His cheeks were hollowed as he sucked, giving his everything for the mere moments he might get of tasting you.

Spencer was internally grateful when you didn’t stop him. As a matter of fact, your fingers knotted through his hair as you tugged him closer to you. It helped him keep his balance as his still tied hands clenched around the air.

He continued his kisses to the rest of your breast once he was confident enough that you wouldn’t tell him to stop. He sucked on the soft, full flesh, leaving marks that would remind you of this moment days from now.

“Look at you sucking on my tits. You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Such a little slut for me.”

He moaned around your nipple, a wave of need fluttering through your stomach. You pulled on his hair, sharp enough to leave a pleasurable sting of pain. “Look at me.”

Wide doe eyes met yours. “‘m sorry.”

“Too distracted by having my tits in your face to look me in the eyes, huh?”

“Sorry, you’re just too pretty,” he truthfully muttered, eyes fleetly falling onto your breasts before blinking back up.

He looked so pretty like this. A red flush painting his neck and cheeks. His lips were just as swollen and red as he pouted at you. A smug smile lingered on your face, and you pulled him back in, leaning forward to not have him stretch his neck too far. The kiss was sloppy, hungry. You were not able to tell whether his whimpers were because of the kiss, or because of your touch as your hand had found its way back to his cock.

You fastened the motions of your wrist. His mouth was parted, a pretty song of whines escaping. You sucked down on his bottom lip, mirroring the action he always did when kissing you.

“Oh, baby.” The moan came out in a gasp. His hips started stuttering, stomach clenching as he neared his release.

“Are you almost there, Spencer?”

“Yes! I’m almost there, I’m almost there baby. Please don’t stop.”

You released your grip on him. His length remained hard, standing upright as if you were still holding him.

The desperate cry that left his lips should have made you feel bad. Instead, you found yourself getting even more turned on. Sure that your thighs were slick with your wetness by now.

“Why—why did you do that?” He whimpered accusingly, as if betrayed. “I was so close.”

“Ah, I know, baby,” you faux pouted. You had to bite your lip to hold back a sadistic smile as you noticed his glossy eyes, looking more green than they usually were.

“I’m just keeping you to your promise,” you reminded him. He tilted his head like a confused puppy. “When you told me you’d always make sure to make me come first.”

“But we weren’t—”

“Uh, uh, uh,” you shushed him, index finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t you want to please me?”

He softly kissed your finger, “Of course I do.”

“Then start using your mouth for better things than complaining,” you cooed at him before carefully standing up on the bed, making your way forward until his face was right below your cunt. Spencer wiggled on the sheets until he lay flat on his back, arms in a bit of an uncomfortable position, but not enough to bother him as he had a perfect view of your dripping pussy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in a prayer. You softly chuckled, bending your legs so that they were spread on either side of his face. Slowly, you lowered yourself until his tongue, which was already sticking out, made contact with your folds. You hissed at the sensation, your clit throbbing in the same way it always did before he ate you out.

He started lapping at your pussy, gathering your sweet slickness and spreading it over the lips. He flicked his tongue over your inner lips before sucking on them. As much as Spencer adored giving you the reins, nothing compared to the shaky, uncontrollable whimpers that left your mouth. Sounds that were made because of him. Sounds that were made for him.

“Keep making those sounds, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations echoing through your body.

After more worshipping kisses to your cunt, his lips finally settled down on your clit. Your back arched when he started sucking on the sensitive button while simultaneously pressing on it with the tip of his tongue. He truly was your toy, no silicone object giving you the ecstasy that he could give you.

“Oh God, Spencer. You’re so good at this,” you stated in a heavy breath. The feeling of your orgasm coming up was close to overwhelming, and you were whimpering as your vision hazed.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Oh, fuck, I’m—”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence, instead crying out a moan as your release hit you. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably, your pussy pressed even harder against his mouth as you rode out the aftershocks, muffling his deep moans. The feel of his nose against your overstimulated cunt was dizzying.

“I need to lie down,” you said, out of breath. Shaky Bambi legs as you climbed off of him. Your body didn’t allow you to move much further. Settling on lying down on top of his body, spreading your legs to give his achingly hard cock room to breathe.

Your cheek rested against his sweaty chest. Spencer reached out to trace your face, huffing in annoyance when he remembered his hands were still tied behind his back.

He hummed when you pressed a wet kiss to his chest. “Finish for me, baby.”

Then you squeezed your thighs together. Spencer swallowed when he realized what you meant. His cock was enveloped between your plush thighs, and when he experimentally lifted his hips, he discovered how good the act felt.

“Jesus, that’s nice,” he groaned.

Wasting no time, he started pumping his hips up, using your thighs as a cocksleeve. The wetness that was gathered on your inner thighs (and was still dripping out of your pussy) working as lube.

Your fingertips lazily trailed over his chest. “Doing so good for me, baby. Show me how good you can make yourself feel.”

He nodded, a whine leaving his lips as he fastened his speed. His eyes were transfixed on the curve of your ass, craning his neck to get a better look.

He’s never experienced a feeling as sentimental as this. The rough pleasure of the sex mixed with the gentleness of your head resting against him. He couldn’t get closer to Heaven than this.

“You feel so good,” he whined. “You’re not stopping me this time. Right?” He asked for confirmation, his voice shaking in doubt.

You laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. “That really took a toll on you, huh? I won’t, I promise.”

The slight tension in his body resolved. Making him feel enough at ease to let go. He placed his feet firmly on the bed, using his knees to lift himself up, making you let out a yelp as he fucked your thighs.

The silk wasn’t enough to hold him back, the fabric tearing as he moved his wrists. His hands immediately found your head, holding you against him as his hips stuttered. Your moans were entangled in each other as he spilled his cum all over your ass.

His stomach clenched underneath you, and you soothingly shushed him. Reassuringly caressing his chest and shoulders as he came down from his height.

-`♡´-

“You okay?” You softly mumbled once his heartbeat had calmed down.

He nodded, a lazy smile displayed on his lips. “I’m okay.”

“I wasn’t too rough with you. Was I?”

“No,” he answered, holding you closely against him. “You were perfect.”

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monstersholygrail · 4 months ago

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dray the crisis is hitting again can I get yandere mad scientist and their also mad scientist reader who loves experimenting with them? Thank u!!

Omgeee my first yandere ask, thank you sm!! Hope you like it, it kinda went all over the place (much like the couple lol)

Ever since Yandere!Mad Scientist was a boy the twisted darkness of scientific exploration spoke to the depths of his soul. He carried it with him throughout his childhood and the so-called deranged experiments he would conduct on the neighborhood animals.

When you, the new neighbor’s child, cried over the loss of your cat, Yandere!Mad Scientist felt something shift inside of him for the first time in his few years on this earth. He wondered briefly if this is what his parents meant when referring to emotion. He wanted… more of this strange sensation. He also wanted to use his gifts for someone else for a change. Another first your presence has given him.

He knew you would appreciate the gift that resulted from his experiment, and appreciate him, even when no one else ever has. Something in him told him you would understand. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, no, he believed in cold hard facts and science. But perhaps in this one exception… it was your soul calling out for him. It had to be. Who was he not to answer?

The moment you throw open the gift box in your family’s living room to reveal your cat’s moving head on a mechanical body and your joyous squeals mingle with your parents horrified screams, he knew. The way you marveled at his accomplishment as you hugged your cat close before your parents tore it away from you in terror.

He knew you were meant to be his. And someday when he wasn’t so little and you weren’t under the control of your parents, you would be. By the possessive look you flash him as your parents usher him out and threaten to call the cops, he knows you have the same idea.

As you both continued to age, Yandere!Mad Scientist’s experiments only got more complex and dangerous. Though now you were right there by his side, driving his theories down even darker avenues. Your creative mind just as twisted as his, if not more so. Your genius unparalleled.

Of course, a series of strategic maneuvers had to be set in place every time you both snuck away to meet up given your parents had permanently banned you from seeing ‘the freak kid next door.’ They still hadn’t gotten over the little cat incident. The fact that you kept the cat alive to this day probably not helping them move on either.

But nothing could keep you away from each other. He was yours and you were most definitely his. With your work together you two would take control of the world and destroy anyone who tried to get in the others path. They were all of inferior minds to you two, they had no right to deny you what rightfully belonged to you and him.

No one would be able to touch you or keep you from him again. It was only a matter of time.

When you and Yandere!Mad Scientist got to college it was the real first taste of freedom either of you had ever had. He thought that this was it. You two would never be separated from now on. He’d be in an off campus apartment with you after school and during school you two would have all the same classes.

But then you have to go and betray him, doing the worst thing imaginable. Choosing a different major than him. While he had gone the expected path— the correct one— of a Science Major. You had chosen… Psychology. It was possibly the first time in his entire life that Yandere!Mad Scientist had been furious at you. You wouldn’t believe how tempted he was to handcuff you to him so you’d be forced to always remain by his side

He was actually searching online for a good sturdy pair the night you came to him asking for help with a project, the first you two had spoken in days following the fight you had about it. And that’s when he learns of your true motivations, the reason behind your desire to be a… Psych major of all things.

You see, you had started working on a memory control device that would surely help your plans for world domination. Of course, he immediately agreed to working on this with you. You two had never worked separately since you met and he wasn’t about to start now. Only he was allowed to know the inner workings of your mind, to understand the way your genius wove its clever webs. He was the only one who ever understood you and that would remain true for as long as he had a say about it.

Together, the work on your project progressed rapidly. The two of you working on it day and night. It was a little tricky, given you two only shared a few classes together where you’d pass flirtatious notes filled with complex algorithms. But he made do.

Though as you learned more from your classes and began applying them to the device, something started feeling… off about it all. More algorithms were attempted that he doesn’t remember running, beakers he doesn’t recall turning on were left running till they overflowed, and days seemed to pass him by where it felt like he had done absolutely nothing despite your excited rambling on the progression of the project.

One night, as you two are cleaning up from that night’s experiments, he comes across one of his many notebooks. Buried deep under a dozen others just like it. But this one has a book mark with an arrow pointing down saying ‘Read me.’ On the marked page lays a whole series of numbers and formulas he’s never even seen before in his one handwriting. With a sticky note at the top reading ‘Forget Something?’

He reads through what appears to be his work over and over again. No, this can’t be real. He never did any of this, it’s impossible. But as he watches the formulas grow more successful with each equation, realization dawns on him. It is possible. He just lost his memory of it. He looks up, eyes instantly catching onto your form across the room just as you look back up at him.

That playful smirk and mischievous glimmer in your eye that he loves so much. It’s as clear as day. As is what you’ve been doing to him. His lips curl into a mirroring expression and you just laugh, returning your gaze to your work.

Ah, so that’s how you want to play it, huh? That’s more than fine by him. He can play it right back to ya. To show you that his brain is all yours for fucking around with, so long as you’re his to do the same.

The next time you come to, the pair of you are sitting in an unfamiliar lecture hall. The teacher droning on about a topic you can’t really hear. Still half-asleep with your head resting on your arms.

“Wakey wakey, darling,” he murmurs in your ear, hand petting your head affectionately. You look too cute all groggy and disoriented as you slowly wake up from the device’s effects. He understands why you used it so much on him. Seeing you like this was absolutely irresistible.

You groan, eyes scrunching up tight. Your head feeling like it weighs about a metric ton and your eyes begging to remain closed forever. You open them anyway, lashes fluttering as you try and focus in on your surroundings. The lecture hall is completely unfamiliar to you. And given the stone walls, you’re in a completely different department.

“W-where am I?” You ask, voice slightly slurred from misuse.

He is having too much fun watching you. It’s wild seeing the device be used and the impacts it has on its users. He briefly wonders if you’ll forget all about this feeling just as he had. He cups your chin with a surprising tenderness, slowly bringing your attention back on him.

“Don’t you remember, dear? You decided to transfer into the Science department. Now, we’ll be together in all our classes. Just like you wanted,” he rumbles, his voice like a hypnotic lullaby as his thumb soothingly caresses your jaw.

It takes a moment for you to break through the comforting haze of his touch so his words can register. Your brows furrow deeply, having no memory of leaving your previous major. The words begin to repeat in your head, echoing and pounding against your skull.

Remember.

He can the moment clarity begins to dawn on you. Your eyes losing that dazed effect to them. He practically watches as you put the pieces together, realizing what must’ve happened just like he did. Though he has to give you props for how fast you realized. Your genius only made him fall harder for you, want even more of you.

But when you burst out into a fit of quiet giggles, your eyes lighting up with pride, he can feel the strings you have wrapped around his heart grow impossibly tighter. It was that pride in your work, pride in the success of the device, and even pride in him for managing to get one on you.

Your laughter is infectious and soon he’s laughing right along with you in the lecture hall, leaning in close and marveling at what you two can do when you put your minds to it.

He looks into your eyes, his hand sliding to cup your cheek and holding you like you’re the most the precious thing in the world to him. And just like back when you were kids, with one look he knows what you’re thinking.

That there is nothing better than experimenting with each other. In every way possible.

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fy-wonwoo · 7 months ago

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[IG] 241028 wonwoo left a comment on seungkwan’s post:

I no longer want to see my loved ones getting hurt. After observing everything that has happened, I’ve tried to suppress my feelings, thinking it would eventually pass. But now, I realize I can’t just watch these situations unfold silently for my fans, my members, and my fellow artists who are working hard.

Being an entertainer is a choice I made, and while I understand that I must endure some pain due to the love I receive, I don’t believe this profession should involve self-destruction. I want to do my best in my work and give back to the fans who support me, sharing the positive energy I can. The pressures and burdens I feel are immense, affecting both my body and mind.

Despite this, we must keep pushing forward. Some look at things rationally, others try to smile through the pain, and some are just enduring as best as they can. I accepted this responsibility when I chose this path, yet today feels particularly harsh and unfair.

Just as some days are bright and others are cloudy, today feels overcast for me. I wonder if I have ever truly tried to stay positive or smile through tough times. Today is not easy, and it saddens me to think of those who are hurting right now. It frustrates me that I can’t comfort everyone, and I question whether my clumsy words can resonate or provide comfort to anyone.

I want to emphasize that my fellow members and those in the K-pop industry I know genuinely love this work. They hurt because they care, and even when they feel empty, they continue to give love to themselves, their members, their families, and their fans.

I want to make it clear: we are not people who can be easily judged for our journey. We have endured pain and challenges to show our best selves on stage, and we work tirelessly for that. Please don’t underestimate what it means to be an idol.

We don’t deserve to have our story treated lightly. This goes for all artists; we are not your items to be used at will. Just one week of music shows can leave us utterly exhausted. Yet, even amidst advertisements, events, and performances, I see colleagues smiling warmly and greeting me. When they do, I smile back, as that is the least I can do. Their simple greetings and heartfelt messages in albums give me strength on tough days.

I appreciate the culture of challenges, where friends, even those who don’t know each other, can share dance videos together. Building small memories together is beautiful, and if it brings joy to the fans, even better. I hope we can all make an effort to be a little warmer. If we support and treat each other kindly, perhaps things can improve. Watching someone fall apart and give up is something I detest. My sincere wish is to stop giving wounds that we cannot take responsibility for. I don’t want to see my members, fellow artists, or our devoted fans hurt any longer. I want to express my love and apologies to those fans who support us so warmly.

ww: As Seungkwan said, I hope this can be a world only full of warmth.

trans

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seungkwan #seventeen #svt #instagram #241028

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nerdygirlramblings · 1 month ago

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lots happening folks. we're almost at the end, now. this one's a little longer than normal.

Despite the plan you had when your gods were here, now, watching your people respond to Fra's blessings, you know you cannot continue on the path you intended. Many of your people seem to trust the gods on blind faith, their miracles evidence enough of your people's blessing. The Elders, however, remain steadfast in their collective unease.

At night, you try to discuss it, but your gods already know. "We trust you will restore them, my queen," Jon murmurs into your hair, twining his naked legs with yours as you rest against Tav's chest. More and more often, when you see them at night - for you accept these are not truly dreams - they are all together. You also find yourself desiring to give them your body in these moments, not out of an obligatory sacrifice but because it is what you want for yourself. What you want from them.

Their trust in you to bring the others back gives you the courage to approach the Elders after the next full moon and ask for an altar for Lex. You explain his role as a messenger and how the people's prayers are better served with Lex's aid. Elder Stigr is outright suspicious of you, but the others are less so, though your place as a woman, seer or not, does not help you. They do, however, concede to your wish.

The night Lex's altar is completed, you dream of a tall man with hair like wheat and an open, inviting smile. He tells you to tell Vigi, one of the older farmers, to pay attention to how the flowers along the main path out of the village grow. You do not understand his message at first, but tell Vigi of your dream anyway. Vigi is like Elder Stigr and does not fully believe because he does not see.

A week after your dream of Lex, Vigi finds you tending the shrines and tells you he's figured out a way to get the crops to grow faster and stronger, something he could do only because of the dream you shared.

At night, your gods tell you how some villagers have set up small altars in their home. Si mentions how the village healer, Thone, has a shrine of his to which she prays twice a day: in the morning she asks Si to spare those whom she can save, and at night she thanks him for ending the suffering of those she could not help. Tav and Gaz boast of several farmers who have altars to them both, with frequent offerings and prayers for a good harvest. Even Jon comments on an Elder, he doesn't say which, who secretly prays to Jon to maintain the current peace.

One full moon goes by. Then another. A third. You request no new shrines. At night, conversation is on anything but the task your gods have set for you. Si shows you the land of the dead where souls are cared for, and those who suffered most are most tenderly watched. Jon shows you how, slowly, they are reclaiming their palace on Fjall Gothar. He delights especially in the throne room where one throne, larger and more ornate than the others, his, sits in a place of pride.

By the fourth full moon, you approach the Elders about the altars for Las and Wel, more than confident you will get what you ask. You've learned from your gods how to manipulate the hearts and minds of men grasping for power, and with this request you will put that knowledge to the test. Elder Stigr's wife, Unnr, whom he married after his first tragically passed in childbirth, along with the babe, is pregnant again, and this time it seems the child will survive until their birth. You know Stigr desires little as much as he is desperate for an heir. When you explain who Las and Wel protect, you watch the anger war with hope on Stigr's face. "Why have these twinned goddesses not been part of our prayers earlier?" Stigr snaps, voice laced with accusation.

"The tome I found, the one I used to beg help from the others only listed Jon, Tav, Gaz, and the god of death. Fra and Lex have come to me as we seem to need them. Perhaps this is the same with Las and Wel. Perhaps the gods feel Las and Wel can help us continue to thrive." Most of the Elders had nodded along as you spoke, having seen how interventions from the earlier gods seemed to come at the moment they were needed.

Elder Stigr must have felt the pull to do all he could to protect his wife and unborn child for his was the first voice to approve the new altar and, more surprisingly, even volunteered to help source the materials to build and shroud the altar. The night it is completed, you dream of several women. You recognize Thone and Unnr as well as the goddess Fra. With them are two women you know must be Las and Wel. Like Lex, Las has hair the color of grains and a strong, sturdy frame. Wel is her dark counterpoint: hair dark as night drapes down around a willowy build. The goddesses talk with Thone about how to care for Unnr, how to ensure she bears a healthy baby boy.

Members of your village have never been in your dreams before, so when morning comes, you stop in to see Thone. As you approach her house, she is bustling out, arms loaded with tinctures and remedies. "Oh!" she says, nearly bumping into. "I'm sorry. Did you need me? I must be off to see Unnr." Your confusion must show as Thone lowers her voice conspiratorially and leans to you, "I had a dream. Several women - they said they were goddesses though I had only heard of one, there is a shrine to her with the others I think - told me Unnr's baby would be stronger than the last few. That he would make it, but only with my help." She stands and finishes with, "I'm not like you and don't put much stock in my own dreams, but when I woke, I couldn't shake the feeling like I should do as the dream said."

You watch, dumbfounded, as Thone leaves her home for that of Elder Stigr. Your job is almost done. You are dually excited and terrified of what will happen when at last Ale and Rudi are restored. But that is a concern for another day. Instead, on your morning rounds, you make sure to leave extra offerings for your goddesses in thanks.

series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hidden-treasures21 @lostintransist @sirbonesly

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #johnny mactavish #simon riley #john price #kyle garrick #ancient gods au #my works ye mighty #nerdygirl says

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 7 months ago

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Kinktober (4)- What's Your Favourite Scary Movie

Dark Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: Whilst on the phone to your girlfriend, the conversation starts off innocently with favourite horror films before escalating down a more sinful path. You tell her how you wish she could be here with you, unaware of the small camera she had hidden in your room, watching as she guides you to slide your hand under your panties.

Warnings/Tags: Dark Natasha/Innocent Reader, Stalking, Non Consensual filming, Hidden cameras, Unhealthy Relationship, Possessive and Obsessed Natasha, Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation, Fingering, Dirty Talk

All sexual acts are consensual, the reader is just unaware she is being watched. Please consider the warnings before reading!

Word Count: 4.5k

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N- I hate this chapter with a passion, I want to remove its entire existence from my brain. It annoyed me that much whilst writing. Apologies about the quality of writing in this, I just wanted to finish it before I actually threw my laptop out of a window.

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The sound of the phone ringing caught your attention as you pottered about the kitchen, grabbing the popcorn from the cupboard whilst your other hand reached into your pocket to answer the call on your mobile, a frown gracing your features at the unknown caller id appearing at the top of the screen.

“Hello?” You asked in a hesitant voice, unsure of what scam call would be ringing you this late as you placed the phone on speaker and onto the countertop, using both hands to prepare the popcorn, ready to curl up in bed and watch a horror film to get into the Halloween spirit.

“Hello,” spoke the other person, a familiar husky voice at the other end of the phone making you relax, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you realised who it was, a similar expression appearing on your girlfriends face as she watched you bite your lip shyly, the camera hidden in the corner of the room giving her a perfect and clear video for her to watch you on.

“What number are you trying to reach?” you playfully murmur whilst leaning against the countertop, quoting the opening scene of the film you knew Natasha was obsessed with, the words at the start of Scream practically engraved in your mind as you had watched the film with her so many times, your adorable expression amusing the redhead as she admired the sight of you so innocent and unaware.

“I don’t know,” she continues to go along with your joke, your fingers playing with the end of your jumper as you smile at the other woman’s voice, having missed her all day whilst she was away at work.

“I think you have the wrong number,” you hum out in a tone that suggests you're trying not to laugh at how silly the two of you were, shaking the popcorn loudly so you could skip the small chatter at the start of the film, making it noticeable for her to hear.

“Do I?” she starts off before chuckling in a raspy tone, your cheeks tinting pink at the sound, a little embarrassed at the heat it sent through you as she indulges your tease, “What’s that noise?”

“Popcorn,” your tone is frivolous as you pop the ‘p’, teeth biting down on your lower lip to stop the wide grin that wanted to spread across your face, memories of the two of you wrapped up in tender embraces as the film played filtering through your mind, the two of you practically making it a tradition every Halloween to watch the entire film series.

“You’re making popcorn?” She questions almost knowingly, an amused hum escaping you, the Russian unable to take her eyes off the screen as the way you sway your body slightly, practically giddy as you speak to her, her green softening at your cute form. “I only eat popcorn at the movies,” Natasha says, your eyes rolling as you knew for a fact that was a lie, your girlfriend having a weird taste for popcorn and always randomly buying it for the two of you to share.

“I’m getting ready to watch a film,” you murmur back, taking the popcorn off the stove and placing it into a bowl, pinching a few pieces and throwing them into your mouth to entertain yourself, pleased at the delicious taste of sweet and salty popcorn.

“Really? What?” The redhead asks, adding a bit of theatrics to her tone as she already knows exactly what you’re going to say as you pick up your phone, wandering through your apartment to your bedroom, placing the bowl on your side table before finding the remote to turn the tv on, smiling as you start to search for the film on Netflix.

You chuckle to yourself as you gently toss your phone onto the bed, deciding to get changed into some more comfortable clothes to settle in, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater and lifting it over your head as you reply.

“Just some scary movie,” your tone signals your amusement as you delicately fold the cream coloured jumper, placing it onto your desk before wandering over to your wardrobe, your eyes searching for a suitable sleep shirt to wear as you started the film, not minding if you missed a little bit of the start whilst you got changed. Your gaze flickered over various items, your lips pulling into a confused expression as you struggled to decide on something, your eyes eventually landing on the shirt you had stolen from Natasha, the slightly baggy shirt making you smile to yourself as her raspy voice met your ears.

“Do you like scary movies?” She asks, purposely letting her voice drop an octave, arousal and thrill coursing through the redhead as she watches you slide your shirt over your head, leaving you just in your bra and joggers as you grin at her words, laughing softly before humming in response.

Natasha couldn’t get over the sight of you as you stretched slightly, arching your back to try and crack it before letting your arms reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, swiftly removing it before sliding on the other woman’s shirt, the sight something she was mesmerised by. The sight of you, so casual, so unknowing sent excitement flooding through her, the fact that you were all hers to admire and obsess over… it was everything she could ever want. She wanted to know everything about you, she deserved to know everything about you, where you had been, what you had done, what you did when she wasn’t there, she just had to know. It pleased her to know you were just as innocent and adorable alone, that you were someone easy to manipulate and corrupt into her own little play thing, someone to worship and control. It was all she ever wanted to do with you.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” She asks, enthralled with the screen as you slide your joggers down your legs, finding a pair of loose shorts to wear instead under the soft duvet, the warmth of your apartment adding to the comfortable and cosy atmosphere as you shake your head softly at both of your antics.

The redhead tries to find it endearing at the way she can see the way the corner of your lips lift at her words, the way your eyes seems to overflow with joy but she can’t, her mind taking a more sinful route at the sight of your legs, the earlier sight of your exposed torso sending warmth through her body. Images of the various times she had watched you at night flooded through Natasha’s head, the countless occasions she intently observed as you moaned her name, your own fingers buried deep inside you as you chased the high you wished your girlfriend was giving you, or the other occasions where she rewatched the footage of the two of you to entertain herself and her twisted fantasies.

“Hmm,” you teasingly say, pretending to think hard about your decision as you settle in bed, watching as Casey talks on the phone to the stranger as the film plays on, your hand reaching over to grab a few pieces of popcorn as you answer her. “Probably Scream because it’s my girlfriend’s favourite,” you softly say, unable to hide your excitement as you smile lovingly, biting on your thumbnail to try and contain yourself, eyes trained on the screen as the patio lights come on, the character’s boyfriend butchered for her to see.

“Girlfriend?” Natasha questions jokingly, your eyes rolling at her words as you make a noise of acknowledgement.

“Yeah, girlfriend. Hi baby,” you murmur, the redhead’s heart melting at your affectionate voice, something inside her craving more of you, needing more to obsess over as she continues to stare at her own screen, the perfect view she has of you all tucked up in bed.

“Hi Detka, I’ve missed you,” she whispers, causing love and care to wrap around you in a snug manner, “How’s your day been?” At her words, you ramble on about your day, the way you explored a little café in the city that you had been wanting to try for a while, the redhead humming along, acting surprised at everything you told her as she already knew exactly what you had done, her ‘busy day at work’ having been spent following you around New York, intrigued as to what you would do. She knew every small detail about your day, the way a small child had accidentally mistaken your for his mother or the way the barista had given you the wrong order by mistake, offering you a free ginger bread in the shape of a spooky ghost in apology, the eyes on the treat slightly wonky. She knew everything, yet she still revelled in the way you told her about your day, the sheer excitement in your voice something she adored.

“How was your day?” You eventually asked after having waffled about a few random tangents, her smile growing at the genuine care lacing your words as you continued to eat some more popcorn.

“Boring as usual,” she huffs out, her lie executed perfectly as you make a sound of disappointment, hoping she had a pleasant day on her work trip, “Coulson is a sweet man but his meetings are so dull.” You smile softly at her, offering a few reassuring words before asking her a little bit more about her day, lie after lie being fed to you as you learnt about your girlfriends day, the other woman’s interest growing when you slide out of the duvet, deciding to lay on top of it instead as you were getting too warm, the sight of your exposed skin capturing every ounce of her attention.

“I wish you were here with me right now,” you murmur into the phone after hearing her say she couldn’t wait to come back to New York, her enchanting green holding a bit of mischief in them, the corner of her lips lifting into a seductive smirk.

“Oh yeah? What would we be doing if I was there?” She rasps out, purposely letting her accent seep into her words, knowing the effect it had on you, the way you shuffled on the bed slightly and squeezed your legs together telling Natasha exactly where your thoughts were heading. You paused before replying, deciding on whether you wanted to elaborate on your thoughts, not wanting to end up frustrated without her touch as she was so many miles away, another part of you tempted to give in and have another sinful night with her over the phone.

“We’d be trying to watch the film,” you start off with, biting down on your lip sheepishly as you decide on your next words, your shy form amusing to her as she watches you blush slightly, lewd images flashing through your mind. “But I think we’d inevitably get distracted…” you trail off, hoping she catches the insinuation to your words, the other woman chuckling at the other end of the phone, knowing exactly how she wants to tease and torment you.

“Distracted with what, Detka?” she asks innocently, wanting you to say everything you were fantasising about, enjoying the way you always became so flustered when she asked you to be direct.

“Nat,” you whine into the phone, a little embarrassed as you wanted her to take control, to lead the conversation and indulge in the desires you were both having. You weren’t sure that you had it in you to tell her how you desperately wished she was on top of you, knee slotted between your legs as she pressed you further into the soft mattress, her fervent lips constantly chasing yours and stealing your breath away, hands caressing your body in a manner that had you moaning in anticipation, wanting to know how her fingers felt elsewhere. You weren’t sure you could vocalise how you also wanted her to press your face further into the sheets as she pounded into you from behind, the strap on reaching deep inside you with powerful thrusts, her hands occasionally spanking you and turning your ass red, leaving her mark on you as she told you that you were her little slut, only hers.

“Come on Detka, I can’t know what unless you tell me,” she mutters playfully, watching intensely at the way you squeeze your legs closer together, your eyes flickering around the room as you get lost in your fantasies, cheeks vibrant and flushed with shyness.

“I don’t know…” you shyly murmur back, not having the confidence to share your thoughts, the innocent tone lacing your words making the redhead smile, your cuteness making this all the more exciting for her.

“Are you sure?” she hums out in a condescending tone, further darkening the colour of your cheeks, a small, shaky breath escaping you at the dominance she radiated. “I guess I’ll just have to tell you what I wish we were doing then,” she teases, planning on how to drive you mad with the idea of her touch, her mind searching for how to torment you and drag you to the brink of madness.

“Please,” you whisper without hesitation, desperate to know what she would do, the other woman always knowing how to make you melt, how to cause a prominent throb between your thighs. The sound of you already pleading with her further entertained Natasha, a warmth settling at the pit of her stomach as she let her mind run wild with sinful images, her hand moving the mouse to make sure her screen perfectly showed you, the resolution as clear as she could manage, wanting to watch everything she was about to tell you to do.

“I’d want to drive you insane Detka,” she husks out, arousal shamelessly pooling between your thighs as you imagine the ghost of her lips brushing the shell of your ear, the way her accent seeps into her words as she would whisper them against you. You can feel your heart already pounding against your chest, a sense of thrill going through you as she continues, your hand subconsciously moving to settle on your thigh, clutching loosely at the fabric of your shorts.

“I’d start of by kissing you softly, slowly, watching as you become the needy girl I love so much,” she purrs out, memories of her gentle but passionate kisses invading your thoughts, the way her teeth would softly bite down on your lower lip, dragging it down playfully before releasing it, crashing her wet and wanting mouth back to yours and clouding your mind with desire and lust. “I’d want you to beg me to do more, to let my hands lower down your body,” she practically whispers into the phone, adding to the intimacy of the moment as you feel the throb between your thighs become more noticeable, your body urging you to move your hand and help you relieve the ache there. “You’d love that Detka, wouldn’t you?” Natasha asks as she can see your hand subconsciously sliding closer to your core, your body craving some sort of relief as you drown in the thoughts of green eyes, red hair and sinful fingers.

“Yes, fuck,” you sigh out in response, vividly picturing everything she was saying to you, thinking back to instances that were engraved in your mind. “Please,” you add at the end, not even sure as to what you were pleading for as she was so many miles away, her eyes lighting up at the plea as she chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound enough to have arousal pooling pathetically between your legs.

“Go on baby, I know you want to touch yourself,” her tone is dominant and amused as she encourages you to give into your desires, her smirk growing as she watches you move the popcorn bowl out of the way, not wanting to knock it over as you settle on the bed, hands moving against your body. “Listen to me carefully Detka, I want you to follow my instructions,” she says, pausing your movements as your hands still at the waistband of your shorts, a small sound of desperation already leaving you as you can feel how soaked your panties were, a hint of embarrassment washing through you at how turned on you already were. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes Nat,” you obediently murmur back, letting your eyes flutter shut as you wait a little impatiently for her guidance, wanting to be able to picture everything and let yourself embrace the moment fully.

“Good girl,” she husks out, making you groan quietly at the praise, the redhead watching with curiosity as you trace random patterns against the fabric of your clothes, attempting to distract yourself. “I want you to slide your hands under your shirt slowly, tease yourself for me Detka,” Natasha murmurs out, emerald eyes trained on the way you immediately obey her words, your cold fingertips meeting your burning skin, making you gasp at the contrast in temperature. You focus on the feeling of your hands, caressing your own skin in the same way she would if she was on top of you, sliding up and down the curve of your hips before going higher, your hands softly cupping your breasts.

“Does that feel good?” Her tone contains a seductive rasps, the other woman enthralled with you as she watches you play with yourself, fingers massaging your chest, fingertips brushing over your hardening nipples as you moan softly for her, slowly building in confidence to let her hear you, unaware of her witnessing everything.

“Yes, fuck I wish you were here with me,” you mutter out, arching your back beautifully and slightly, pushing your chest further into your own hands as you brush over your weak spots, pleasure building gradually inside you. You can hear her mutter something in agreement, not comprehending what she was saying properly as you're too busy imagining her touch, her slightly larger and skilful hands worshipping you, setting your body alight.

“That’s my girl,” she murmurs in praise, watching as you lose yourself in the sinful touches. “Now slide your shorts and panties off for me,” the redhead husks out and it doesn’t fully click in your mind what she’s said, the fact she knew what you were wearing irrelevant to you as you wanted, needed to feel pleasure crashing through you.

A little rushed, you did as she said, shuffling the items of clothing off you, sighing a little at the feeling of your exposed skin meeting the pleasant temperature of the room and the soft fabric of the bed sheets under you. You settled more comfortably on the bed, almost posing perfectly for the other woman, your arousal glistening in the light and clear for Natasha to see, a small curse leaving her lips at the sinful sight.

“Nat please, I wanna come so bad,” you mutter in a desperate voice, your shyness and shame gone as you were too far gone in your delirium of the thought of her. You kept your more dominant hand resting against your thigh, obediently waiting for her permission whilst your other hand moved back up your body, still grazing over the sensitive skin of your breasts, squeezing a little harder, making you gasp in pleasure at the sparks of ecstasy that shot through you.

“Patience Detka,” she hums out a little condescendingly, revelling in the amount of control she had over you, the idea of having such dominance over you thrilling her, her heart beating a little erratically in her chest as she savours the moment, one of her favourite fantasies being lived out again. “I’ll give you what you want soon,” her tone is smug as she watches you move in a protesting way, seeming to be impatient as your fingers press into the soft flesh of your thigh, your hips shifting in an eager and desperate manner. “Tell me how wet you are Detka, use your fingers to feel for me, ” she commands, staring at the screen intensely as you listen to her, moving your fingers to slide through your dripping folds, arousal coating your fingers.

“Shit,” you sigh out, teasing yourself as you move your finger to circle your clit, your hips softly bucking up into your hand as you lose control of your body, giving in to the pleasure flooding through you at finally being able to touch yourself. “So wet, I…Fuck, I’m so wet and it’s all for you,” you groan out wantonly, grinding against your own hand as you pretend it was hers, your pace increase as you continue to please yourself, Natasha moaning audibly on the phone at your words.

‘All for you’ rang around in her head, almost causing something inside her to break, to drive over to your apartment right now and fuck you like she wanted to, but she refrained as she knew she would have been caught, a heavy sigh escaping her instead as she watched through lust-filled eyes as you masturbated to her voice.

“Slide your finger in Detka, I want you to pretend it’s me filling you up with the strap,” she lewdly sighs out, images of the many times you had spent passionate nights with the toys filling both of your minds, a broken moan escaping you as you loved it when she fucked you roughly with the strap on, reminding you of your place, how you were all hers to play with and torment.

“Nat,” you desperately moan out as you slide your finger in, curling it beautifully inside you as your palm brushes your clit with every frantic roll of your hips, euphoria coursing through your veins as you pump your finger in at a steady pace. Growing desperate, you slide another in, curling them both at your sweet spot and sighing out curses and chants of the redhead’s name as your mind fogs over with arousal and pleasure, the sight of you so needy engraving itself in Natasha’s mind as she struggles to take her eyes off of her screen.

“That’s it Detka, fuck yourself like the little slut you are,” she seductively murmurs out, a soft moan escaping you as the coil in your lower abdomen starts to tighten, your movements turning even more desperate and frantic as you chase your release, feeling your body steadily drive you closer and closer towards that familiar edge. “My little slut,” she adds, pushing you significantly closer to your orgasm, the way her accent seeps into her words, voice husky and dominant, sending you reeling in lewd and sinful thoughts and ideas, a whimper leaving you pathetically at the idea of her hand wrapping around your throat as she pounded into you with the strap on, increasing the power behind her thrusts as she watches you fall apart beneath her.

“I’m so close, Nat, please,” you plead, a sense of urgency evident in your voice as you grind against your hand, your free hand clutching at the sheets, knuckles bleeding white at the intense desire crashing through you.

“Come for me Detka,” as soon as the words meet your ears, a guttural moan is ripped from the back of your throat, your body tensing, legs trembling. You throw your head back, neck straining and jawline on show as your body is thrown into your powerful release, hips desperately rocking against your palm. Your ragged breaths and the wet sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of your soaking cunt take over the room as you slow your pace, riding the last waves of your release, pleasure coursing through you until you eventually collapse onto the bed.

Soft words spill from Natasha’s lips, your hazy mind barely processing them as you roll over onto your side, getting comfortable with the sheets around you as you listen to her gentle and delicate voice, the other woman saving the footage of everything that had just occurred to her laptop.

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs in a loving voice, making you smile shyly as you relax in the duvet, content on just listening to her voice, missing her presence and wishing she was next to you, her warm and comfortable body embracing yours.

“When do you get back?” You ask after a brief, tender silence, your tone of voice suggesting how much you longed for her to be there with you, the yearning for your girlfriend making Natasha smile. You just wanted to be wrapped up in her arms, her lips kissing your temple affectionately as you both drifted off to sleep or relaxed against one another, continuing to watch the film you put on before losing focus on it.

“I’ll be back in a few days Detka, I promise,” she whispers, finding it endearing how much you missed her, how much you depended on her. It was everything she ever wanted. “I’ll be back soon and we can watch the rest of the Scream films then,” she teases, a small smile gracing your lips at her words, a small warmth wrapping around your heart.

“Good,” you mumble, a little tired after your long day and the recent high you experienced, “We’ll have to try to not get distracted during them.” Your drowsy joke earns a small huff of laughter, her head shaking softly at your antics.

“We can try,” she murmurs in an amused tone, watching you with a tender smile as you start to drift off at the sound of her voice, curled up snug under your duvet. “Goodnight Detka,” she whispers, turning off the live camera and leaving you to sleep, the thought of you continuing to play on her mind, leaving her to obsess over what had happened.

#natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x reader #black widow #scream #stalker #stalker gf #stalking fantasy #dark fanfiction #kinktober 2024 #kinktober masterlist

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

Note

Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly

Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.

And with that, good morning aali my love <3

-glasses anon

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.

about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.

what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale?

gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light.

“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.

you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”

you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you.

“f-fuck.”

“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by.

clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.”

“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?”

“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all.

“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.”

shit. “yes… it does.”

“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”

when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit.

this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?”

“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“

father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much.

he feels like hell on earth.

there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.

“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”

satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.

“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself.

he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.

lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.”

satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes.

“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.”

your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.

“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed.

“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes.

gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move.

“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.”

“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.”

if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.”

“see you next week.” gojo repeats.

and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ

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freshl6ve · 7 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

❝ 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 ❞

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬, my eyes pleading. “We can’t do this,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Nathan is your best friend, and my brother. He’ll hate you.”

Chris’ hands were on my hips, our bodies so close together. He could feel the heat radiating off of them. “He doesn’t have to know,” he said, his hands gripping tighter.

Chris pushed me backwards, gently guiding me down onto the bed. He leaned over me, his body hovering above mine, his breath hot against my skin. “It’ll be our secret,” he murmured, his voice soft and husky. “Our dirty little secret.”

His hands trailed down my sides, his touch sending shivers through my body. “No one has to know,” he said, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. “Just us.” His body pressed against mine, his weight pinning me down to the bed.

I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, beating in time with mine. “This is wrong,” I gasped, my head spinning with the feel of him so close. “But it feels so good.”

Chris chuckled, his lips trailing down my collarbone. “Then why stop?”

I groaned, my head falling back against the mattress as his mouth moved along my neck. “But…you’re my brother’s best friend,” I protested weakly, trying to fight the sparks of pleasure his touch was igniting in me. “He’d kill you if he ever found out.”

Chris’ hands paused for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin. “Do you really care about that right now though?” he asked, his voice low and seductive.

A moan escaped my lips as his tongue traced a path along my collarbone, sending another wave of desire crashing over me. “No,” I gasped, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. “I don’t care right now, because I’ve wanted this for so long. Ever since my eyes first laid on you.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smile against my skin. “Is that so?” he murmured, his hands slipping under my top, his thumbs skimming along the bare skin of my stomach. “And here I thought you didn’t pay any attention to me.”

“I notice everything about you,” I admitted, arching into his touch as his hands continued to explore my body. “You don’t know how hard it’s been, pretending I don’t want you.”

Chris lifted his head from my neck, his eyes dark with desire. “Then stop pretending.” He grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head, leaving me bare before him. His eyes raked over my body, his gaze hungry and possessive.

My hands tangled into his hair, pulling him closer as I kissed him hungrily. My body arched against his as our mouths moved together, all the years of pent-up desire finally unleashed. His hands roamed my skin, his touch both tender and possessive, claiming me as his own.

His tongue tangled with mine, the kiss both a claim and a promise. His hands slid down my body, his fingers tracing patterns along my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My mind was a maelstrom of sensation - the feel of his body against mine, his hands on my skin, his mouth on mine. This was everything I'd ever wanted.

I hooked a leg around his waist, urging him closer, needing to feel all of him. He groaned into my mouth, pressing me further into the bed, his body molding to mine like it was made for it. This was more than I could have ever hoped for.

Our bodies moved together, the heat between us intensifying with every touch, every kiss. I couldn't get enough of him - the taste of him, the feel of him, the way he made me feel. This was ecstasy, this was bliss, this was everything I'd been missing.

Chris broke the kiss, his lips moving along my jawline to my neck. He trailed a path of hot kisses down my throat, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin of my collarbone. His hands slid down my body, mapping out each contour, every curve, as if committing them to memory.

His fingers hooked into the hem of my shirt, slowly pulling it up. I lifted my arms, helping him remove the barrier between us. His hands returned to my waist, his touch sending shivers through me. He looked into my eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and reverence

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. He leaned down, his lips finding mine again. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more urgent. His hands roamed over my bare skin, tracing patterns that set my nerves on fire.

I moaned against his mouth, my own hands clutching at his shoulders. He broke the kiss, his breath hot against my skin as he trailed his lips down my body. His fingers found the button of my jeans, slowly popping it open. He looked up at me, a question in his eyes.

I nodded, my breath coming in short, shallow pants. He slid my zipper down, his knuckles brushing against my skin. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of both my jeans and underwear, pulling them down in one fluid motion.

I lifted my hips, helping him remove the last of my clothing. He stood up, his eyes roaming over my bare form. He reached for his own shirt, pulling it over his head and revealing his toned chest. His hands went to his belt, unbuckling it slowly as he looked at me.

I sat up, my hair falling around my shoulders. I reached out, my fingers brushing against his abs as I helped him remove his belt. Together, we unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down his legs along with his boxers. He stepped out of them, now as bare as I was.

I stood up, my legs slightly shaky with desire. I placed my hands on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the bed. He fell back against the mattress, his hair splayed out on the pillow. I crawled over him, straddling his hips.

I leaned down, my lips finding his jaw, then his neck, leaving a trail of kisses. I nipped at his collarbone, marking him possessively. He gasped, his hips bucking up against mine. I continued down to his chest, my teeth and lips leaving red marks on his skin.

He watched me through heavy-lidded eyes, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing moment. His hands gripped the bedsheets, his knuckles turning white. “Y/N,” he groaned, my name a plea on his lips.

I sat up, grinding against him slowly. His eyes rolled back, a low moan escaping his throat. I leaned down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. My tongue delved into his mouth, tasting him deeply. His hands came up to my hips, gripping them tightly.

I pulled back, my teeth sinking into his lower lip. He groaned, his hands tightening on my hips, trying to pull me back down for a kiss. But I evaded him, my mouth moving to his jaw, then his neck. “You like that?” I whispered, my voice sultry.

“God, yes,” he hissed, his body tensing beneath mine. I continued, my lips, teeth, and tongue leaving marks all over his chest. I whispered filthy words in his ear, telling him what I wanted to do to him.

His breathing grew harsher, his control unraveling.“Y/N, please,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse with need. I smiled against his skin, loving the effect I had on him. I moved back up to his face, my eyes locked onto his. “What do you want?”

His eyes locked onto mine, desperation and longing etched on his face. “I want you to stop teasing me and just fuck me already,” he growled, his hands squeezing my hips painfully. I grinned, a wicked idea forming in my mind. “Not yet.”

I began to grind against him, my wet heat sliding along his length. He groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. I set a torturous pace, denying him the friction he craved. His hips jerked up, seeking more contact.

“Y/N, please!” he groaned, his voice strained. He was so close to the edge, and I was reveling in the power I had over him. I leaned down, my breath hot against his ear. “Not until you beg for it nicely.”

I stopped moving, eliciting a strangled sound from him. I looked down at him, my hand sliding down between our bodies. I wrapped my hand around him, slowly stroking him. He let out a low moan, his body tensing. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his.

I captured his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. My tongue delved into his mouth, tasting him fully. I stroked him faster, my thumb swirling around the tip. He thrust into my hand, his control slipping. I pulled back from the kiss, my eyes dark with desire.

I trailed kisses down his neck to his Adam's apple, feeling his pulse jump beneath my lips. I continued downward, placing soft kisses on his chest and abs. I settled between his legs, my breath ghosting over his length. He shuddered, his hands fisting in the sheets.

I licked a slow stripe up his shaft, savoring the taste of his skin. I swirled my tongue around the tip, dipping into the slit. He groaned, his hips twitching. I took him into my mouth, just the tip at first, sucking gently.

His breathing grew heavier, his hands finding my hair and tangling in the strands. I took more of him into my mouth, my head bobbing up and down in a slow rhythm. I could feel him getting close, his body tensing. I pulled back, my hands replacing my mouth.

I wrapped my lips back around his length, taking him deep into my throat. I sucked hard, my hands stroking his shaft in time with my mouth. He cried out, his back arching off the bed. I focused on his tip, sucking it hard as I continued to stroke him.

I felt the pulse of his veins against my tongue as I took him deep. I ran my tongue along those veins as I pulled back, committing every contour of him to memory. His body shook beneath me, his control fraying. “Y/N” he choked out, his voice a warning.

I licked my lips as I looked up at him, savoring the taste of him. I crawled up his body, straddling his hips. I captured his lips in a deep, filthy kiss, sharing his essence with him. He groaned into my mouth, his hands gripping my hips.

I broke the kiss, my breath coming in short pants. I reached between us, guiding his still-hard length to my entrance. I sank down onto him, my walls stretching to accommodate his girth. He threw his head back, a loud groan filling the room as I settled onto him fully.

“Nathan isn't home, right?” I panted, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I rose and fell on his lap. Chris shook his head, his eyes locked onto mine. “No, he won't be back for another two hours.”

A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a surge of desire. I rode him harder, the sound of our skin slapping together echoing through the room. Chris's hands gripped my hips, holding me down as he thrust up to meet me. I leaned forward, my breasts bouncing with each movement.

“Chris!” I moaned loudly, his thrusts hitting me just right. He grunted, his pace quickening. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, along with our labored breaths and moans. I leaned back, my hands braced on his thighs.

“Sit up,” I panted, my body tensing as he nailed that sweet spot. He sat up, his hands sliding up my body to cup my breasts. He took one peak into his mouth, sucking hard. I cried out, my head falling back.

“Chris...” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair. He growled against my chest, his hands gripping my backside possessively. He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist. He spun us around and planted me on the edge of my desk, his hips pistoning between my thighs.

Papers fluttered to the floor as the desk shook with the force of his movements. I clutched his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh. “Harder, Harder!” I screamed, my voice echoing in the room. He complied, his hips slamming into mine with a punishing rhythm.

His face was contorted in concentration, his arms braced on either side of me. I could feel the desk hitting the wall with each powerful thrust, the sound mingling with our labored breathing and the slick sounds of our joined bodies. I locked my ankles behind his back, pulling him even closer.

He reached down, his fingers finding my clit. I screamed, my vision blurring as he hit that spot inside me that made my whole world spin. “Fuck, Chris! Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!”

His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wide as he pounded into me. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, his teeth sinking into my flesh. I could feel his hot breath against my skin, his muffled grunts spurring me on.

His pace was relentless, his body slapping against mine. I could feel every inch of him, my body stretching to accommodate his thick length. “Oh God, Chris!” I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair. He growled against my neck, his pace quickening.”

His body slid against mine, our sweat mingling. The scent of our passion filled the air, the sound of our bodies coming together echoing loudly. I could feel him swelling inside me, his body tensing. I leaned back, my body arching as he hit that magical spot over and over again.

“You like that?” he grunted, his voice strained. “Answer me.” I nodded, my words lodged in my throat. “Words, baby,” he panted, his hips snapping forward. “Y-Yes,” I stammered. “I love it.”

His hands moved to my hips, gripping them tightly as he changed his angle. He hit that spot inside me that made me see stars, and I screamed his name. He smirked against my neck, doing it again and again until I was a writhing, incoherent mess beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice muffled against my skin. “I can feel you squeezing me like a vice.” He punctuated his words with powerful thrusts, his body slamming into mine. I could feel him getting closer, his movements becoming erratic.

He suddenly picked me up off the desk, my back slamming against the wall. He lifted one of my legs, hooking it over his elbow as he continued to pound into me. The change in angle allowed him to hit even deeper, and I let out a piercing scream as he fucked me against the wall.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he grunted, his eyes flicking down to where our bodies were joined. “Look at how well you take me, baby.” He thrust forward, filling me completely. I let out a shuddered breath, my body quivering as he picked up his pace.

My head thrashed against the wall as he drove into me. I could feel the coolness of the wall against my back, contrasting with the heat of his body against my front. His face was contorted in pleasure, his brows furrowed as he concentrated on his movements.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded, his voice low. “Play with your peaking peaks.” I hesitantly brought my hands up to my breasts, squeezing them gently. He growled in approval, his pace quickening as he watched me play with myself. “That's it, baby. You look so beautiful.”

“Chris... please...” I begged, my voice hoarse from screaming his name. “Please what, baby?” he taunted, his voice low. “Please what?” He punctuated his words with hard thrusts, each one pushing me closer to the edge.

“Please… cum inside me…” I gasped out, my hands tightening on my breasts. He groaned deeply, his head tilting back as he listened to my plea. “You want me to cum inside you, baby? You want to feel me spill inside your warmth?”

His hand shot out, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Look at me when I give you what you want,” he grunted, his pace becoming punishing. His hips snapped forward, his body slamming against mine.

“That's it, baby, take it all,” he hissed, his eyes locked onto mine. “You're going to milk me dry, aren't you?” I whimpered in affirmation, my nails digging into his shoulders.

His grip on my chin tightened as he fucked me harder, his body shaking with the effort. He was so close, and I could feel it building inside me, the pressure of his release.

Suddenly, I heard Nathan's voice from outside the door. “Y/N?” He sounded concerned. Chris smirked wickedly, his hips snapping forward even harder. “Go ahead, answer him,” he taunted, his voice low.

“Nathan?” I whispered-shouted, my voice breathy. “I thought you weren't supposed to be back until later?” Chris's grin widened as he continued to pound into me, his movements growing faster and more forceful.

“Yeah, but the store wasn't as busy today so I got what I needed faster,” Nathan called back, his voice muffled through the door. “Why's your door locked” He jiggled the doorknob, testing to see if it was indeed locked.

Chris's hands tightened on my waist as he drove deeper into me, making it harder for me to speak clearly. “I-I just got out of the shower,” I stammered. “I'm changing.” Chris's grin turned mischievous as he mouthed,

“That’s a lie,” he whispered, his voice laced with amusement. He picked up his pace, his hips moving in a rapid, hypnotic rhythm that stole my breath away. “Chris...” I hissed, my voice low, “Nathan's right outside the door.”

“Oh, okay,” Nathan called back, satisfied with my explanation. But then, pausing before leaving, “Also, have you seen Chris? He was here before I left.” Nathan called back, pausing before leaving. “He actually just got picked up by Matt.”

I lied, my voice strained. I bit my lip hard, stifling a moan as Chris continued his relentless pace. “He'll be back later though.” Chris chuckled lowly.

‘Another lie’ I thought to myself, my mind hazy with pleasure. Chris was right there in the same room as me, pounding into me and rearranging my guts, and I'd just told Nathan he was with Matt, when in reality he was never even gone.

I snapped back to reality when Chris gently turned me around, picking me up and moving me to the bed. He laid me face-down into the comforter, my cheek sinking into the soft fabric as he continued to thrust into me from behind.

“Stay quiet, baby,” Chris murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hands gripped my hips tightly as he increased his pace, each thrust pushing me further into the mattress. The bed creaked softly beneath us, the only other sound in the room besides our heavy breathing.

I bit down hard on the comforter, muffling any sounds that threatened to escape. My fingers clenched in the fabric as Chris's thrusts grew more intense, hitting that special spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

Chris's hands slid up my back, gently but firmly grasping my wrists. He pulled my arms behind me, holding them securely against my lower back as he continued his relentless pace. The position arched my back, allowing him to sink even deeper.

I could only whimper into the bedding, my face buried in the comforter. Chris's hold on my wrists tightened as his movements grew more urgent. The room spun around me, and all I could focus on was the heat and pressure of his body against mine. “Chris...”

“Shh, I know baby. Just feel it,” Chris breathed, his voice husky with desire. He leaned over me, his chest pressing against my back as he nuzzled into my neck. His hips never stopped their steady rhythm, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.

After a few minutes of pounding into me from behind, Chris carefully pulled out and turned me around. He lifted my legs over his shoulders, spreading my thighs wide as he positioned himself between them.

His blue eyes locked onto mine as he slowly pushed back into me. The new angle allowed him to slide even deeper than before, filling me completely. I gasped, my fingers gripping his shoulders tightly. “Chris... please...” I begged, my voice barely a whisper. “Shh, I've got you,” Chris replied, his voice soft and soothing.

He began to move, his hips rocking slowly between my thighs. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting that perfect spot inside me with every stroke. His eyes never left mine, his gaze burning with love and desire. “Look at me, baby.”

I locked my eyes onto his, my breath hitching in my chest as he continued to love me slowly. The intimacy of his gaze was almost too much to bear, and I felt tears prick my eyes.

Chris leaned down, his chest pressing against mine as he nestled his face into the crook of my neck. I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking him close as my arms encircled his back. The new position brought us even closer, our bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

Chris groaned against my neck, the sound muffled as my fingers dug into his back. My nails raked over his skin, leaving red crescent marks in their wake. “Harder, baby,” he encouraged, his voice low and gruff. “Mark me as yours.”

I tightened my legs around him, pulling him impossibly deeper as I scored my nails down his back. Chris hissed in pleasure, his hips snapping forward more urgently. The new friction had me seeing stars, my walls fluttering around him. “Yes, just like that,”

My fingers found their way into his hair, gripping the silky locks tightly as my breath grew shallow. “Chris... I'm... I'm so close,” I panted, my voice barely a whisper. He growled low in his throat, his pace quickening as he buried his face in my neck.

Chris kissed a trail up my neck and jaw, his lips searing against my skin. My hands roamed over his head, guiding his lips back to mine as I sought out his tongue. Our kiss was deep and desperate, a tangle of tongues and teeth as we both neared the edge.

Our movements became frantic, our bodies tensing as we climbed higher and higher. With a final thrust, Chris buried himself deep inside me, and we both shattered. I cried out against his mouth, my nails digging into his scalp as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.

Chris broke the kiss, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he panted heavily. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice muffled against my skin. I held him close, my arms trembling as I fought to catch my breath.

Chris pulled out of me, laying down beside me before propping himself up on one arm to look down at me. His hair was messy, his eyes still glazed with lust, and his skin was flushed. “This,” he said, his voice low and husky, “will be our dirty little secret.”

I nodded, my lips curving into a small smile as Chris traced his thumb along my lower lip. I took a moment to admire him - his messy hair falling into his eyes, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, and the way his eyes seemed to see right through me.

Chris grinned, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “You're staring,” he teased, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I blushed, my eyes flicking downwards shyly.

He gently grabbed my chin, tilting my face up to his. His eyes met mine, then drifted to my lips, before coming back up to my eyes. He repeated the action, his touch gentle as he rubbed his thumb over my lower lip. “So beautiful,”

Chris leaned down, capturing my lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was a stark contrast to the passionate kisses from before, but no less intense. His lips moved against mine slowly, savoring the moment.

As we kissed, I found myself lost in the moment. I never thought it would come down to this - Chris, with me, like this. But here we were, wrapped up in each other's arms, and I couldn't bring myself to care about the what-ifs or the maybes.

Chris broke the kiss, flopping back onto the pillow with a content sigh. He pulled me with him, arranging me so that I was laying on his bare chest. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as his fingers idly traced patterns on my back.

A/N: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN FOR 600 FOLLOWERS!!! I CANT THANK YOU ALL ENOUGH!! IM SO GLAD PEOPLE ENJOY MY STORIES!! I LOVE YOU ALL AND YOU ALL ARE APPRECIATED ♥︎

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slightly-knot-insane · 5 months ago

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Night Hunt

Monstertober 2024 - day 26 [ Full Moon ] by @/ozzgin

[ m!fox demon x fem!reader ]

content: p in v, a little bit of oral (male receiving) tw: dubcon (male receiving)

You've been hunting him for years. This elusive silver-haired demon is too cunning, too old for your mortal mind. But every full moon, right after the first snow falls, you grab your gun and darts and head out into the woods.

Every year you get closer to him. Every year you learn another weakness of his. Last time, the snow was soiled with his demonic blood before he escaped. You almost had him. But this year... this year he's yours.

Your trap is set, and you are waiting for him. Right on time, he appears on the same path he always walks on, intrigued by the toy you prepared for him. So smart, yet so gullible.

You fire your dart and it hits him right in his thigh. With a yelp, he falls down, the poison quickly taking his legs and ability to walk. Quickly quickly, you rush yourself as you run down to him. You must reach him before he transforms back. You are behind him, focused on that one spot between his shoulder blades, and you hit it with another poisoned dart. With a roar, the demon turns toward you, but his arms fall limp and he falls onto his back.

"You!" He recognizes you, of course he does. Last year he almost killed you. "You foul creature! You stupid human!"

He's finally yours. You are on your feet looking at his form. Half-human, half-fox, white as snow, snarling at you, strong like the earth - but completely at your mercy. You bite your lip and step on his groin. The demon grunts in shock. You rub your heel against his soft penis, enjoying the power you have. "You are mine now, fox."

He can't move, his both arms and one leg completely numb. You have to stay away from his dangerous teeth though. For now. You continue rubbing his shaft, forcing it to become hard under your toes.

He growls, "Is that what you want human? You want my power?"

"Maybe," you smile and get on your knees. There is only a little bit of clothing on him since he's immune to cold, but it will take you some time to warm up. You sit on his unaffected thigh and lean toward his exposed cock. It is white with blue tip, glistening like ice. His muscular thigh is firmly trapped between your thighs. In-between teasing him with your tongue, you ride his leg, rolling your hips. He is surprisingly quiet, only breathing heavily, almost enjoying your touches and kisses. Unable to wait any longer, you remove all your furs, clothes and socks and, completely naked, press your tight and soaked little hole against his massive cock.

"You think you can take me, little human?" His smirk exposes his sharp teeth and, for a brief second, the icy cold shine of his blue eyes scares you. But just for a moment. You push the tip past your entrance, enduring the pain, and the fox demon hisses through his teeth. You know pleasure awaits you in a few minutes so you lift your hips up and let them slide down his shaft slowly, getting used to his size and girth. His skin is cold, and so is yours, but you're warming up, riding his cock, and soon your panting builds a mist around your head. "Mmmm...", you moan and lick your lips, tasting your victory. "I hunted you down, fox. And I will take you as a trophy."

Fox demon chuckles, his grunts sounding less annoyed and more pleased than before. "Your trophy, human? We'll see about that."

He lifts his arm and grabs your thigh. You yelp. "What? How?"

The fox demon pushes you into the snow and stretches his shoulders and neck. "Your poison is potent, little woman. But not potent enough." In one swift move, he spins you around and pushes your face into the cold and powdery snow. His large body traps you and you feel the tip of his penis against your cunt. He slowly pushes it in and you whimper. "I have to admit you were fun little human - and that's why I'll reward you."

He takes you hips, positions himself, and fucks your cunt. You scream from pleasure and pain, but the demon knows how humans work and he quickly brings you close to an orgasm... but doesn't let you reach your peak. He fucks you long and hard until your knees are scraped and your nipples completely frozen and overstimulated by the cold and his merciless fingers. Just as you're about to cum, he grabs your both arms and pulls you toward himself. You arch your back and climax hard, shaking and whimpering. But he doesn't let you rest - he keeps fucking you until you orgasm again and squirt all over him. "How delightful," he gloats, still ponding your pulsating pussy. "I love how you feel around my cock. Give me a few more of those, little human, but be louder." He pushes you over the edge many times until it is painful to even think let alone speak or beg, and then he leans forward, speeding up, growling furiously next to your ear before he pulls out and splashes his hot cum all over your back.

You fall down, diving into the snow, trembling like a feeble fawn. "No..."

Once he's done, he rolls you onto your back. He stands high above you, so beautiful and powerful. "I know you wanted my magical seed, you greedy human. And you almost got it. Maybe next time you will finally get your trophy." He kneels on one knee and kisses you before transforming into a fox and leaving you cradled by the melting snow.

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cherry-luvz · 8 months ago

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Mrs.bodyguard - H.YJ

Genre - Smut

Warning- G!P Yunjin, sex, Ceo x bodyguard, sex without protection, Don’t be a dud- wrap your bud, mommy kink.

Paring - GP!Dom!Yunjin x Ceo!fem!Reader.

Synopsis - Yunjin is your bodyguard, your the boss.. she has to protect you in any situation, any right..?

Word count - 4.8K

Yunjin - RED.

Reader - WHITE.

You were at a friend's, Hanni’s, party, when an unsettling guy cornered me, leering. He said his name was Kang Junwoo, he was apparently one of Hanni’s friend.

He gripped my arms. "Don't leave yet, beautiful.. we were just getting started,” he insisted.

"Back off, I'm taken" You snapped.

"Really? But I didn't see—"

Without hesitation, You called over your bodyguard, Huh Yunjin. In a clever ruse, You pretended to kiss her by pressing your thumb to her lips. When You pulled away, You went and confronted the guy.

"Does that prove l'm taken?" You challenged him.

You look back at Yunjin then at the man, The man reluctantly stepped back, his expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment. You exhaled a sigh of relief turning to Yunjin, meeting her stoic gaze.

You I gave her an awkward smile, your cheeks turning pink.

“Uh..” Yunjin broke the silence of the atmosphere around you guys, it sounded like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

You cleared your throat, your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. You took a step closer to Yunjin, her presence suddenly bringing a sense of comfort to you.

"Sorry for that... It was the only way—” You sighed, “It was the only way I could think of that would make him back off..”

She nodded.

You shifted your weight, the adrenaline still coursing through you. You couldn't help but steal glances at Yunjin, studying her calm and composed demeanor. After a moment of silence, you fidgeted with the hem of my dress, searching for something to say.

"Uh... Thanks for playing along, I guess..I didn't mean to drag you into that whole...thing" You muttered, feeling an odd mixture of awkwardness and attraction.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight of her, her mere presence making me feel flustered. The silence between you guys stretched out, making the tension and attraction increasingly palpable. You bit your lip, struggling to find the right words to break the tension.

"You know..." You started, breaking the silence, my voice a bit shaky. You shifted closer to Yunjin, the gap between us gradually shrinking. "You're quite good at being a pretend girlfriend"

"I am?" She looked down at you, her height being 5'7 and yours being 5'5...

Staring up at her, you realized just how much taller she was compared to you. The gap in our heights only added to the captivating dynamic between you

Both. You swallowed hard, feeling a flutter of nervousness in your chest.

"Yeah..." You replied, your voice slightly hushed. The intensity of the moment grew, the air filled with unspoken tension.

"You played the part really well" you managed to say, your gaze locked with hers.

You took a step closer, your bodies only inches apart now. The proximity was making your heart race, your mind swimming with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. You could feel her presence, the heat of her body radiating toward me. Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw, your touch feather-light.

"You...you have quite a convincing presence, you know?" You whispered, your voice barely heard above the music that filled the room. My fingers lingered on her jaw, the touch sending a wave of electricity through me. You tried to conceal your trembling hands, your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

"Hhmm you think so...?" She asked.

You nodded, your fingers continuing their path along yourjaw, slowly tracing the curve of her neck. You could feel the rapid flutter of your own heartbeat, the intimate contact between you two sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

"Very much so..." Your murmured, your voice a low, sultry tone. "You're almost too good at this"

Your fingers reached the nape of her neck, your touch lingering there. You guys faces were mere inches apart now, the two of yall’s breaths mingling in the air. The heat of her body, the sound of her steady breathing, the scent of her skin -everything was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Your lips parted slightly, your voice dropping to a soft whisper.

"Maybe a bit too good, even"

"What are you implying, boss...?"

Boss. The word sent a jolt through your heart, a mix of excitement and power surging through you. You swallowed, trying to hold on to your composure, but the heat between the two of you was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"What if..." You began, your voice a mere whisper, "What if this wasn't just pretend...?"

You stared up at her, your gaze intense and filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. The distance between the two of you had all but vanished, your bodies now tightly pressed together. You looked at her face, taking in every detail: the curve of her lips, the depth of her eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks.

Slowly, you let her hands roam over her shoulders, your touch both intimate and yearning.

You leaned in, your breath hot against her neck, your lips close enough to graze her skin. The scent of her perfume filled your nostrils, making your head spin and your heart race even faster.

"What if...what if I wanted this to be real?" You murmured, your words a mere breath against her ear. You let my fingers trail along her collarbone, the need to touch her almost excruciating.

"And how are you implying that?"

Your hand traced a path down her arm, your fingertips lingering on the exposed skin. You took a shaky breath, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. It was as if all your carefully built walls were crumbling down, leaving you vulnerable and desperate.

"I'm not just implying, Yunjin," You whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your words. "I'm telling you. I want you. This. Us. To be real."

You pressed your body closer to hers, seeking her warmth and solace. You could feel her pulse under your fingertips, a rapid rhythm that mirrored your own wild heartbeat.

The world around the two of you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a state of heightened awareness.

"Please..." You murmured, your voice a desperate plea. "Please tell me you want this too."

"I do feel the same..and.. I want to show you that a feel the same..." she smiled at you.

A wave of relief washed over me, my heart swelling from her words. The mixture of tension and desire between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Your lips curled into a soft smile, a surge of happiness coursing through you.

"Show me," you whispered, my voice filled with longing. "Show me how you feel, Prove it to me."

She cups your face... "After the party..."

You shivered under yunjin’s touch, the sensation of her fingers against your skin sending a wave of heat throughout your body. You leaned into her hand, craving the closeness and the reassurance it provided.

"After the party," you repeated, your voice a soft, eager whisper. Your eyes met hers, a silent promise of unspoken desires hanging in the air between the both of us.

A few hours later - AFTER THE PARTY

The party had finally come to an end, and you found myself in the confines of my car, Yunjin by your side. The tension between you guys where was palpable, the silence in the car almost deafening.

You could hear your own heart pounding in your ears, my anticipation growing with every passing moment. You snuck a glance at her, your breath catching in your throat as their eyes met. The journey from the party to your penthouse felt endless, each passing minute only heightening your desperation to be alone with her.

After reaching our destination, Yunjin parked and got out the car...

You followed, my movements shaky from a mixture of anxiety and excitement. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside of me.

You waited as Yunjin locked the car, your eyes never leaving her. The thought of being alone with her, finally feeling her touch and losing yourself in the moment, was almost overwhelming. You took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Let's go up, shall we?" You said, your voice a little shaky as I led the way. As we stepped inside, you couldn't help but fidget with your fingers, your mind racing with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

Yunjin follows you inside the building...

You both walked through the elegant lobby, the soft sounds of our footsteps echoing in the empty space. Ypu led the way to the elevator, your mind swirling with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. You pressed the button and waited for the doors to open, the silence between the both pf of growing more and more charged with each passing second.

As the elevator doors opened, You stepped inside, your heart hammering in your chest.

Yunjin followed, her presence a source of both reassurance and excitement. The elevator began its ascent, the small space suddenly feeling even more intimate. You stole glances at her, your eyes scanning her features, taking in every detail.

You shifted slightly as the elevator climbed higher, the tension between the both of you guysbecoming almost unbearable. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch her, to pull her close and satisfy the ache that had been building all night. But another part of you was terrified, uncertain of how to proceed in this uncharted territory.

Finally, the elevator reached the penthouse and the doors opened, revealing the luxurious space beyond. I led the way inside, my steps a bit shaky.

The room was dimly lit, a soft, intimate ambiance enveloping us. Without a word, you turned to face her, the weight of our unspoken desires hanging heavily in the air.

You looked into her eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You couldn't hold myself back any longer. Closing the distance between them, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they grazed her cheek. The feel of her skin under your fingertips sent a shiver down my spine, your heart fluttering with a mixture of emotions.

Yunjin looks back at her.

Our eyes locked, a torrent of emotions swirling between us. You took a step closer, you guys bodies almost touching. The proximity was making your head spin, your mind clouded with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. You let your fingers trail down her neck, the touch gentle yet filled with need.

My eyes flicked down to her lips, my gaze lingering for a moment. The urge to taste her, to feel the softness of her mouth against mine, was almost overwhelming.

But I held back, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my heart hammering in my chest.

Looks at her lips...

I could see the desire in her eyes, the same hunger that was burning within me.

Seeing her gaze fixed on your lips sent a jolt of electricity through me, you resolve weakening with each passing moment. You inched closer, your body pressed against hers, the heat between the both of you almost unbearable.

"I want you," You murmured, your voice a mere whisper. My hands moved to her waist, my fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as if trying to anchor yourself in the moment.

You leaned in, your lips just millimeters away from hers, the need to taste her becoming almost unbearable.

"Me too..." Yunjin replied.

You could feel her breath against your lips, the words sending a shiver down your spine. The last remnants of restraint vanished, and you couldn't hold back any longer. With a low moan, you closed the gap between you two, your lips finally meeting hers in a desperate, searing kiss.

The feel of her mouth against mine was electric, sending waves of pleasure through my body. You deepened the kiss, your hands roaming over her body, exploring every contour, desperate to feel her as closely as possible.

French kissing...

The kiss grew more intense, the two of your mouths moving together in a passionate dance.

Your tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring and tasting her, the sensations driving me closer to the edge. Your hands moved to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled her closer, feeling her body press against yours.

After a little make out session, you pull Yunjin into your bedroom.

The kiss finally broke, and you leaned my forehead against hers, both of us panting heavily, the air between us charged with a mixture of desire and anticipation. You took her hand, leading her into the bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest with each step.

The bedroom was dimly lit, the soft glow of the ambient lights casting shadows on the walls. You closed the door behind us, enclosing us in the sanctuary of my private space. Turning to face her, you took in her flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, feeling a fresh wave of desire surge through me.

Yunjin went and sat on her bed, my back against the headboard... you watched as she settled onto the bed, her back resting against the headboard.

The sight of her there, in your bed, was almost more than I could handle. Your eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail, the gentle curve of her neck, the way her breath hitched in her chest. It took every bit of my willpower not to pounce on her then and there.

You walked over to her and straddled her, Yunjin was in her own ceo's bed as you guys made out... you wanted yunjin..

Your hands on Yunjin’s shoulders, Your fingers playing with the fabric of her tie. Inbetween kisses, a low moan escaped your lips, your body pressed against hers.

Yunjin could feel the heat between the both of you, my breathing becoming heavier as the passion between us intensified. You pulled away, looking into yunjin’s eyes with a mixture of desire and need.

"I want you... So bad" You whispered, your desire clear in your voice.

“Hmm you want me so bad..? How bad are we talking Ms.Y/n?” She asked you as she rubbed your sides, “so fucking bad yunjin..”

She smelled your breath and realised that you were a bit tipsy, “But boss your a bit tipsy..." She mumbled under her breath as she looked up at you.

You smirked, a hint of mischievousness in your eyes. You leaned in, your lips barely touching her ear as you whispered, your voice sultry and seductive.

"So what if I am..." You nipped at her earlobe gently, your hands roaming down Yunjin’s chest, and to her hips, pulling yunjin closer to you.

You could feel her body tense against yours, your breath hitching as your touch sent shivers down her spine. You could tell she were hesitant, her loyalty to her job keeping Yunjin from fully giving in to her desire. However, I wasn't about to give up on you so easily.

"Relax…. I want this. I want you" You purred, your lips tracing a path down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses.

Yunjin looked away, her face turning a bit red.. she knew it was wrong I mean you’re her boss. But it felt right so she didn’t resist and finally gave up and let her desires free, just for tonight.

She took your chin and kissed you. She licked the bottom of your lip, silently asking for entrance. As you opened your mouth she quickly went and attacked your mouth, exploring the inside your mouth.

Your hands found its way to yunjin’s neck, Hers to your waist, gently squeezing your waist with her hands..

Yunjin pulled away looking at the string of saliva connecting you two by the mouth, she smirks at you.. biting her bottom lip. “You look so good on top you know..”

You lightly chuckled, “Do I now..?”

She nodded, “Definitely.. it’s like a turn on..” she chuckled. She had a boner and it was pretty obvious due to you feeling it against your thigh.

“You’re are really turned on..” You shift in her lap, “I can feel something or someone getting a little excited down there..”

You feel a tug on the rim of ur shirt.. you look down to see yunjin’s hands fiddling with it, “Can I take this off you..?” You look back up and nodded at yunjin.

She pulls your shirt up and over your head off your body throwing your shirt somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your white lace bra and grey skirt that had rode up due to your sitting on her lap.

You blush even more as you saw Yunjin’s eyes lingering around your chest area. “Woah..” She mumbled and gulped.

“You’re staring..” You mumbled being a bit shy. “Sorry.. it’s just— they look so perfect in your bra..”

You looked straight at Yunjin after she said that.. “Y-you think so..?” She noded.

She then leaned into your ear, “I know so princess,” she whispered before attacking your neck leaving love bites and hickeys on your neck.

You whimpered, it felt so good.

She moved her head down and down, till she reached your chest. “May I princess..?” She tugged on the back of your bra and looked up at you.

“Y-yea..” You mumbled as she unclipped your bra from behind. Your boobs where sensitive to her touch and she runs her thumb repeatedly over the nub on your left boob as she sucked on your right.

Enjoying all the whimpers and moans that you let slip through your mouth.. just for her and only her.

She then gently laid you down as she kissed down to your lower abdomen, all the way to your skirt.. her hand tugged on it. “Hmm may I..?” She asked as she went back up to her where you guys were face to face.

You nodded, “Please do..”

She nodded the pecked your lips and when down onto her knees as she pulled your grey skirt down, tossing it to who knows were in your bedroom.

But you didn’t care you just wanted her to fuck you.

As Yunjin was on her knees she thought it was more sexy to fuck, you with your underwear on. But she was gonna hold it to the side as she fucked you, it would be even better if she fucked you raw.

You mean, you wouldn’t mind it, You were not to mention on birth control pills.

You watched as Yunjin stood up and took off her unbuttoning her shirt and taking it off with her tire revealing the Calvin Klein sports bra she had on underneath her shirt. She tossed her shirt somewhere else in your room before un buckling her belt and unbuttoning her trousers.

She was wearing a Calvin Klein boxers, well that’s what was on the waistband. She let her trousers puddle at her feet but before she pulled down her boxers she looked down at you.

“Um.. you think you can take 9.5inches..?” She asked you looking down at your quite shocked face.

You slowly nodded, “Y-yea.. just be gentle..”

Yunjin took your hand, “I promise i’ll be gentle with you.. princess..” You smiled as you cupped her cheeks and kissed her for a few moments.

She pulled away and then got back on her knees as she rubbed the dark spot on her lace white underwear, “Hmm all wet for mommy I see, huh?” She looked up at you from her angle to see you whimpering and pleading for touch to touch her.

She pulls away your underwear to the side, “Aww thats a pretty pink colour princess..” She mumbles and licks the bud.

Yunjin said as she slurped up all your juices, you felt like you was on cloud nine at this point.

She continued to eat you out before inserting a finger into your hole.. “Just preparing you princess..” she smiled at you as she started to move her fingers in and out of you slowly as she felt how tight you were.

Your hips started rocking against Yunjin’s hand, “Hmm someone’s needy huh..” You whimpered in response, “I think thats enough preparation done..” she took out her fingers and sucked your slick off of them.

You looked away, not before long Yunjin stood up and took off her boxers. It revealed what was hiding behind that huge bulge that she had in her boxers.

Her 9.5 inch thick and girthy cock sprang out from her boxers, she let her boxers pool with her trousers. She looked at you, “it looks big, but Im sure you cam take it princess..”

You rest on your elbows to look down, and it looked big. It was veiny, hard and the tip of it was a pinkish colour with pre cum coming out the tip. You gulp, “I-it does look big..”

She nods and gently teases your hole, “Hmm how bad do you want mommy’s cock, princess..?” She asked as she gathered all your slick for lube.

“A-ah please stop t-teasing me yunnie..” you pled as you saw Yunjin nod and gently pushes into you, stretching your hole to her size.

“A-ah.. oh gosh..!” You whimpered, the feeling of her stretching your hole felt so good but hurt so bad.

“Shit, fuckkk thats tight ah hmpf thats tight”, yunjin mumbled as she continued to push into you, You holds onto her biceps, squeezing haed.

Yunjin noticed it, “Need a minute..?” She looked at you seeing the slight discomfort in your body language and a bit of pain in your face expression.

You nodded, “Hmpf yeah..”, You muttered and looked back up at her. Yunjim kissed your cheek and drew shapes on your stomach giving you time to adjust to her size.

After 5-10 minutes Later

After adjusting to her size you bod your head, “I’m r-ready yunnie.” You mumbled, loud enough for her to hear you.

“I’ll be slow princess..” Yunjin said and started to slowly move in and out of you.

She moved a bit faster after a while as she held your white lace underwear to the side. All the while she was doing that you were a moaning mess, it felt so good it had you rolling your eyes back to the back of your head.

She smirked as she saw your face, she moved even faster, the sound of your cheeks clapping became more and more louder as well as your moans.

“Ah oh gosshhhhhh!!” you held onto her shoulders.

She continued and leaned down kissing your neck, “So good for mommy..” You moaned.

“Hmpf mommy you feel so good..”

Yunjin looked down at the part of where you guys were connected, seeing the amount of release and cum there she found it such a turn on, “So much release... damn princess this looks... so... pretty...” Yunjin said as moved slowly..

I gasped as you moved slowly, the mixture of pleasure and praise sending a shiver down my spine. I looked up at you, my breathing ragged and uneven. My cheeks flushed, my body arching against yours as you moved.

"Y-You like that..." You whispered, your voice filled with desire.

Yunjin had one hand on your hips and the other holding your white undies to the side, "mhm yeah..."

You could feel Yunjin’s touch on your hip, her hand holding your underwear to continues to slide her dick in and out of you.

Your breath hitched as Yunjin touched me, the feeling of her hand on my skin sending waves of pleasure through me. You looked up at her, your eyes filled with desire "That feels so good..." You murmured, Your voice laced with pleasure.

"Gosh you feel good ah fucking baby... I love you..." Yunjin mumbled as she continued to fuck your brains out.

You could feel your heart skip a beat as she spoke, the words "I love you" sending a surge of warmth through your body. You looked up at her, your eyes filled with affection and desire.

"I...l love you too... So much..." You whispered, your voice soft and filled with emotion.

Yunjin chuckles... then rubs your cheek... "You’re so cute..."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Yunjin rubbed your cheek. Her gentle touch and affectionate words made me feel loved and appreciated during this imtamate situation.

"And you're so ah hmm sweet m-mommy..." You murmured, my eyes gazing up at you with a mix of affection and desire. You reached up, cupping Yunjin’s face with my hand, your thumb gently stroking her cheek.

Yunjin pulls out of you and teases you...

You gasped as yunjin pulled out, the absence of your touch making me crave you even more. A whimper escaped from your lips as Yunjin teased me, the mix of pleasure and anticipation building within yourself. You looked up at yujin, your body arching towards yunjin’s.

"Please... I need you..." you pleaded, your voice was filled with longing and desire.

"How bad you need mommy's dick inside your tight cunt...?" Yunjin asked.

You swallowed, yunjin’s body trembling with desire at the sound of Her words. You looked up at her with a mixture of needy and submissive, my voice trembling with need.

"So bad... I need you so bad, mommy... Please... I need your touch...i’ll be a good girl for mommy please..” you begged her.

Yunjin pushes back inside you... "Look at that... you’re mommy’s little cum slut aren’t ya..?” She pounds into your cunt.

You let out a gasp as Yunjin pushed back into you the feeling of her dick filling you up to the brim.

"Who knew that you'd look so pretty like this...?"

You felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure washing over me. You met her gaze, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability.

"Ah Y-You really think so mommy..? Hmpfff fuck...?" You asked, my voice soft and shy.

Yunjin mods

"Wanna release for mommy...? I know you’ve been dying to cum all over mommy’s thick, lengthy dick.” She felt you clenching meaning that you were close to release.

A wave of excitement washed over You at Yunjin’s words. You met her gaze, her eyes filled with need and desire.

“Ah yeah oh gosh yes... please, m-mommy. I want to release for you.. all over your thick fucking cock..” You murmured, your voice low in desperation but high in desire

“Go on cum on mommy’s thick dick princess..” as soon as Yunjin said that you let out a soft moan as you reached your peak. Your body trembled as you cummed all over yunjin’s dick leaving yunjin’s lower half all covered in your slick.

"Hmm I got you princess, mommy’s got you..” You were panting, trying to catch your breath. You looked up at Her, your eyes a mix of satisfaction and tenderness.

"T-Thank you... That was amazing... mommy..” you murmured, your voice shaky..

Yunjin nods and smiled, you smiled up at her, feeling a sense of contentment and affection. Yunjin reached out, her hand gently stroking her cheek.

"You're so good to me..." you said, your voice soft and filled with gratitude.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Yunjin pulled out of you and helped you up into the bathroom. Where you both took a shower to wash the smell of sex off you both.

After the shower, you let yunjin wear some on your baggy clothes which fitted her, but she complained of going to bed hot if she wore that top so she chose a baggy thin t-shirt.

While you wore cute plaided pyjamas that was super comfortable, you sat on the bed as you watched Yunjin pick up the both if you guys clothes.

You wanted to help her but, you couldn’t walk properly due to you guys recent activity. So you waited till she put the clothes in the hamper then turn off the lamp as you laid down under the sheets, waiting for yunjin to join you.

When yunjin climbed into the bed, you mumbled something she didn’t hear. “Hmm what did you say princess..?”

You repeated it again, “Can i be small spoon.. i want to be held by you..”, loudly for only her to hear.

Yunjin nodded and huggef you from behind making you lay there in yunjin’s arms, the aftermath of our encounter leaving me feeling content and satisfied, a question came to mind.

You both clean up and lay in bed, yunjin was gonna stay the night cuddling. Yunjin was big spoon as you were small spoon.

“Goodnight yunnie,” you said as you felt yunjin snuggle into you.

“Night princess..” Yunjin whispered back as she dozed off back to sleep.

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