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chelseeebe · 1 month

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gimme a hand

okay so i saw a silly tiktok abt how guys take nudes wrong and thought our lovely best friend reader could help eddie take some !! i am a little tipsy so pls excuse any mistakes

mdni. 18+. smut. like, literally just smut. fem!reader x eddie. modern au

“so.. how are things with you and.. whatshername?” clicking your fingers in his face.

eddie scoffs, batting your hand away, “chrissy is her name,” correcting your childish behaviour, “and it’s good, we’ve been.. texting a little,” shrugging nonchalantly.

you and eddie had been best friends for years, though these hang outs were few and far between now. both too busy with the perils of adult life to sit around and smoke weed all day, like you used to.

that meant that your relationship had skewed a bit, no longer as close as you once were. though you still tried to feign an interest in his, mostly nonexistent, love life.

he understood though, your life was far too interesting to care about the very small roster of girls he was seeing.

“texting?” you exclaim, stubbing the embers of the joint out into the ashtray, “so you haven’t seen her since?”

eddie shakes his head, realising that what he had thought was an exciting update, was actually just a pathetic retelling of a long text thread.

“i think we’re just.. testing the waters,” brushing off your disappointment. he contemplates even telling you anymore but what kind of a best friend would he be if he didn’t at least tell you all the details. “she sent me pictures the other day,” wriggling his eyebrows.

“pictures?” a slight mocking tone to your voice that he doesn’t like, “what kinda pictures?”

his face scrunches up, cheeks flaming red, as if it wasn’t obvious. “you know.. naughty ones.”

you whistle, blowing the air from your cheeks in the most sarcastic manner, “naughty pictures.. wow eddie, you’re really moving up in the world. did you send any back?”

his head dips, regretful of ever sharing this with you. you had never had a lack of choice for guys lining up for you. even back in high school. of course you wouldn’t understand.

“no..” shrugging again, “i don’t.. don’t know how.”

“you don’t know how to send nudes?” utter shock rippling through your voice, “didn’t i teach you anything?”

“not how to send nudes!” he hits back, getting increasingly frustrated that you’d rather mock him than help him get laid for once.

“i can help you if you want,” you offer, “i don’t have to watch.. i can just.. guide you?” proposing the question as if it were a completely standard conversation for you two to be having.

“really?” his eyes bright and full of hope.

eddie really liked chrissy, she was sweet and the times they had hung out, they got on well. he just wasn’t equipped to match her flirting, afraid he’d overthink himself into losing her.

“sure,” you smile, grabbing his phone as you stand from the couch, “come on,” beckoning for him to follow you down the corridor to the bathroom.

you bundle into the trailers tiny bathroom, poised in front of the mirror with his phone in hand.

“you stand here..” you instruct, guiding him by the shoulders, “you need to get hard,” grinning as you look at him through the mirror, “i’ll stand outside and just.. tell you what to do, okay?”

eddie’s too high for this, wondering how you’d gone from a joint and a couple of beers to now helping him sext the girl he liked.

you disappear outside, shoving his phone into his chest, the knob clicking quietly as the realisation of what the hell he was doing sets in.

“so..” he poises, swiping onto the camera, posing himself in the dirty mirror, “pull my pants down, right?” wanting to make sure that he got nothing wrong.

“yeah, but not all the way, just like.. a little bit.”

okay, he thinks. tugging his sweatpants down just beneath his balls, his boxers following suit. he was getting hard just thinking about it, the fact that you were instructing him what to do wasn’t helping.

his fingers wraps around the base of his cock, pumping his fist a few times, stifling the groan that had settled in his throat.

this was already weird enough, he didn’t need to make it weirder.

“okay..” his voice quivering, “what now?”

you tut, “pull your shirt up.. or off, it looks bad otherwise.”

eddie does as you ask, taking his shirt off and tossing it into the floor with the rest of his dirty clothes. he peers at the image through the screen, inwardly cringing at how stupid he looked.

“i don’t know,” though his dick was already stiff, aching for him to continue. “i look stupid,” he frowns, attempting to position the phone differently, although nothing seemed to help his pathetic stature.

“no you don’t,” your voice rings through the door, “now you gotta pose it.. make it look good, sexy.”

his eyes squeeze shut, wishing you’d stop talking with that low growl in your voice. this was for chrissy’s benefit, not his. getting off to the sound of your voice while trying to arouse another girl was not the plan.

eddie exhales, opening his eyes to reposition the phone, closer to the mirror. his fist begging to move and finish the job.

nothing helped, in fact, it looked worse than before. chrissy’d block him if he dared sent anything like this.

fuck, he felt like a pervert. this was wrong. twisted.

“have you done it?” you call.

“no,” he gulps, frowning at the image of himself in the mirror.

you huff, knuckles wrapping against the door, “i’m gonna come in, okay?” giving him no time to think before you appear next to him in the mirror.

your eyes fall straight to his cock, widening every so slightly, “wow.. okay,” chuckling awkwardly as you snap back into it. “you have to..” your hand lowers his phone, straightening the camera position for him.

his breath is jagged, on the edge of exploding and splattering all over his bathroom. whatever buzz he had had from the weed had dissipated, replaced by the hazy tingly sensation of your hand near his cock.

“and then..” you look to him, in person this time, not through the safety of the mirror, before wrapping your fingers around the ones that were still lingering around his cock. “do this..” voice trailing off into a low whisper, using his fist to pump his already leaking cock.

a strangled gasp leaves his mouth, heat searing through his body. mind too fuzzy to truly comprehend the shit he was seeing and feeling.

the heat of your body presses against his back, delicate fingers still travelling the length of his cock, “film it,” not once letting your eyes fall from the side of his face while his stay firmly on the mirror in front.

maybe this way he could pretend it wasn’t real, that he was just watching some video and you weren’t actually jerking him off by-proxy.

eddie, ever obedient, presses the record button, sighing into his phone as your his hand continues to move.

his knees almost buckle, kept afloat by the sound of you panting into his ear. it was almost too much, his brain collapsing into itself as your hand takes over, ignoring the phone in his hand to continue making him whine and quiver like that.

the weight of your body presses him into the cold china basin, eyes travelling from his face to his dick and right back up again.

you could’ve told him to jump right now and he would’ve. other hand reaching around to grab onto whatever part of you he could get a grip on.

your lips trace against his neck, lingering against the skin. he couldn’t keep the phone straight, the video would just be some big blur of him groaning and the sink. not that it matters. not while you’re touching him.

“is this good?” you ask, breath tickling against his ear.

eddie nods rapidly, “good.. so good,” fingers twisting around your shirt as his eyes flutter closed. “fuck,” he gasps, the phone slipping from his hand onto the counter when your thumb circles the tip of his dick. an otherworldly feeling he had never been able to feel before.

“yeah?” you grit, pulling his hand, signalling for him to turn. his bones were jelly, body mailable and under your control. his back now pressed against the sink, foreheads pressed together.

one hand holds onto your hip while the other finds your cheek, lazily trying to connect your lips. your knee slides between his legs, spreading them just enough for your other hand to creep between and grab his balls.

“ohh shit,” eddie wails, kissing at your bottom lip, sucking at the skin.

nothing felt real, waiting for his alarm to pull him out of this fucked dream to a sticky puddle and a new perspective on your friendship.

your expert fingers fondle his balls while the other fists his dick, pre-cum making your fingers glisten and move with ease.

his throat squeaks, the most pitiful noise a grown man could’ve made, his bottom lip still latched onto yours.

ten years of friendship and yet the two of you had never even kissed before. wishing you wouldn’t have wasted so much time on actually doing it. a newfound adoration for the sweet taste of your lips and the friction of your palm rubbing against his cock.

“i’m gonna cum,” he babbles, stomach flipping, waves of pleasure crashing through his tingling limbs.

you don’t respond to his whining, your nose brushes over his as his breaths become shallow and staggered. a iron clad grip on your shirt as he teeters over the edge, hips stuttering into your palm.

“ohh fuck,” eddie mewls, bursting all over your hand, “shit.. fuck, oh god,” your eyes dark, gazing down at your hand still wrapped around him, somewhat proud of what you’ve achieved.

he lets go of his hold on your body, hurriedly trying to find the counter to ground himself. his head a million miles away on mars, his lack of thoughts disrupted by the sound of the water running.

chest still heaving as he braves a look at you, watching his release swirl down the drain. you’re chewing on your bottom lip, a sudden realisation that you had just made your best friend cum maybe. he doesn’t really want to ask. hoping you won’t regret it.

eddie picks up his phone, stopping the recording, his thumb shooting straight to the tiny trash can until you grab his wrist.

“don’t delete it,” a fire within your eyes, twisting the screen in your direction, “i wanna watch.”’

his finger hovers over the play button, looking to you though your eyes are trained on the screen, waiting for him to press play.

the video starts, shaky footage as the audio of his pathetic grunts and gasps fill the tiny bathroom. eddie can’t bring himself to watch, forcing himself to watch you rather than the video.

you’re smiling to yourself, smug at the sight of you making him crumble. he wants to be embarrassed, can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and yet, he doesn’t turn it off.

“maybe don’t send that..” you remark, finding his eye, that mischievous sparkle that eddie hadn’t seen in years, reappearing.

he needed to feel you, in the way that you had felt him. cock already reawakening when your lips twitch into a smirk.

shit.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things

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chuluoyi · 7 months

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✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."

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prankvids · 11 months

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cheating my girlfriend prank അടി കിട്ടി🥲| fayizzibrahim

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snowsinterlude · 6 months

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need someone older.

(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)

summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.

c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal

being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.

thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.

when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.

you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.

"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.

"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.

"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.

his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.

and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.

"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.

"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"

"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.

"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.

"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.

"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.

"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.

"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.

"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.

"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."

"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.

"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.

you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"

he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.

"keep it." he said once you took the ring

"but- s-sir, i-"

"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.

he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.

"i hope you know what that means."

"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.

"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #tbosas smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #teacher crush #teacher x student #dark!coriolanus snow

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bisexualmultifandommess · 1 year

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Damn I feel bad for the guy in the opening of 6x17 of 911 💀😭

#chim and eddie looked too stunned to speak lmao #if I had a nickel for every time chim has worked on an emergency where a proposal has gone wrong I’d have two nickels #which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice #911 #911 show #911 spoilers

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ashfae · 11 months

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The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #nina #maggie #nina and maggie #stories #romance #relationships #am I projecting here #of course I am isn't that the whole point?#pride and prejudice #elizabeth and darcy #quiet gentle romantic #good omens meta

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smuthospital · 8 months

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⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️

Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea

Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader

Minors DNI

You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.

He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.

He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.

Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.

He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.

There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.

You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.

"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.

You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.

"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.

Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?

"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.

He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.

He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.

He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.

You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.

His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.

"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.

You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.

"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.

You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.

"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.

You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"

Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:

- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.

- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"

- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"

- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him

- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy

- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.

- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.

- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.

- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.

- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.

- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.

- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"

- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.

#non con #lemon #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere husband #dead dove do not eat

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valiantlyannoyingbread · 5 months

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guys, hear me out: the bad kids are in the wrong timeline

in theory, the seven and junior year should be happening at the same time. we see gilear and arthur aguefort on the first day of school in the seven, but in junior year, they're suddenly gone. arthur said that time was going to be weird this year because he's traveling with ayda, so maybe something gets messed up and the bad kids end up in a fucked up timeline? and then we have the gilear devil thing with fig, and gilear suddenly having the confidence to propose to hallariel and he starts having good luck? plus there's the stuff happening with the winter solstice, aka the shortest day of the year (in the Northern Hemisphere at least; idk if spyre is flat or on a globe), which also seems to have a magical time significance?

idk i guess we'll find out

#dimension 20 #d20 #d20 spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers #fantasy high #d20 fantasy high #d20 fhjy #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 fhjy #dimension 20 fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high spoilers #squeem #the seven #d20 the seven #dimension20 #bad kids

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taexoxosgf · 5 months

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THIS DECEMBER

PAIRING park jisung x fem!reader | ft. friendgroup!nct dream

WORDS 5k

SYNOPSIS Your horny friends try to pull a little prank on you in the days leading up to Christmas. One thing Park Jisung likes to remind them is: he totally doesn’t want any part in it. Except, he totally does.

WARNINGS smut, ANGST, fluff, lots of dialogue, vag fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla vanilla vanilla, they're in love basically

NOTES I have to admit, this isn’t my best work lolllllll. though this was supposed to be posted on christmas, this can be my new years gift! 2024 here we come babyyy

★ Part of A Dreamy Christmas Collab!

“Why don’t we all be her secret Santa?”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin chuckles, eyes dancing as he seems intrigued by the idea. But what pervades his mind was nothing like what Donghyuck was about to propose.

“Think about it…” he trails. “She used to say, if it’s an SOS, and we need help in that department,” he points to his crotch– “She would help us out.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Jisung rolls his eyes when he catches on to Hyuck’s sudden idea.

“So you’re saying we all get her a present?” Chenle asks.

“Yes… But we all have to give her the same… present,” he walks between each of the men like a devil hovering over their shoulders.

“Hyuck, just get to the point,” Jeno huffs.

“Okay, bu–”

“No ‘buts!’ Get to your point,” Renjun groans.

“The gift we’re giving her can’t be put into a shitty little box.”

“Oh my god, NO!” Mark whines.

“What’s so wrong with a little fun?”

“Are you seriously suggesting an… orgy?”

“No, you idiot,” Hyuck pinches his nose bridge. “Let’s all give her our present one by one leading up to Christmas… Like an advent calendar,” he shrugs, unable to hide the pride beaming off of him from the simile.

“So you’re suggesting we all have sex with her in the days leading up to Christmas? Am I hearing this right?” Jaemin intervenes once more, orbs gleaming with interest.

“Ding Ding! We have a winner!”

“Jisung’s right. You’ve gone insane,” Renjun fully laughs.

“You know I’m insane, and that’s why we have fun. But you know what? Let’s make this more interesting… When we tell her after Christmas, the person who she says is her best fuck, get’s her secret Santa present,” Hyuck smirks. “You know she goes all out.”

“I’m in, but it might be hard for Mark because he’s actually in love with her,” Jaemin turns his body towards his friend who avoids eye contact before offering a retort.

“Why just me? You guys are all in love with her!” His claim is met with a group of huffs and groans.

“How do you know she’ll even agree to this?” Jeno points out, earning a nod from the others.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. If she does, then great! Amazing even! But if she doesn’t, then man, I feel kinda bad because we all got a thing for her.” Hyuck accepts the facts of the predicament. “Hopefully we can laugh about this on New Years.”

“I don’t. I guess I’m the only one,” the youngest of the group speaks out but it’s not taken seriously by his older friends as a fit of laughter echoes within the small space.

Hyuck’s the first one to speak– placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “You’re the worst out of all of us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You guys always bicker and talk shit but I know all you want to do is rip each other’s clothes off,” Jeno jumps in. “Nice try though. I almost believed it.”

“I’m not! She’s annoying as hell!”

“So annoying you want to fuck it out of her, right?” Jaemin joins.

“You guys are jumping me right now, I’m leaving,” Jisung excuses himself earning a look of victory from his friends.

“Wait! So you agree to it, right? Jisung?! Hello?” Chenle and Renjun yell out in unison, but the only reply heard is the slam of a door.

“You’re serious about this Hyuck?” Mark asks one last time.

“No, but this is just so those two kids will finally admit they’re down bad for each other. I think this will be their breaking point.”

“Damn,” all the other boys yell in unison.

“I know right? Someone needs to hire me for something! I don’t know for what, but something!” he crosses his arms to bask in his actions.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mark laughs at his friend. “You’re so dumb.”

“Just wait and see. He won’t make it to Christmas…”

Everyone is being… weird.

On the very first day of December, you and all your friends come together to pick a name out of a jar. The game of Secret Santa is an annual tradition you love partaking in. But once the weather dropped thirty degrees, all the boys started acting shady. They were canceling plans with you on purpose, avoiding eye contact when you spoke to any one of them, and just running away the first chance they got. It was easy to get mad, even call them out for it, but the replies would always be the same– that there was nothing wrong or they were just tired.

And you’re not going to lie, it was starting to make your skin crawl. The sudden shift in dynamic between you and the boys has you wondering if you did something wrong. But if they were trying to pull something, then they had another thing coming. It was frustrating, trying to shake it out of them in every way possible, but no one would budge.

December eighth rolls around and you know everyone is free today because you all collectively promised Sunghoon that every year until the day you die, this day will always be open for him. It’s always an annual trip to the snowy mountains– a secluded cabin and powdery snow that’s fit for snowboarding. Surprisingly, but not so surprisingly, everyone’s busy up until the car ride to the cabin.

Their persistent avoidance, even for an event like this, just pulls on the strings even harder.

You’re leaning against the island of the kitchen, glaring into their souls from across the room as the music's bass reverberates throughout the warm cabin; and the bitter liquid in your plastic cup disappears like water down a drain.

“Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

You turn to the voice, sporting a grin once you realize who it is. “Hey, birthday boy. Just glaring at the boys. Don’t know if they notice though,” you squint a little harder, hoping they’ll finally notice.

Sunghoon’s orbs follow the seven of them scattered around the living room. “They notice alright. I’m sure they’ll come crawling back when they realize you don’t play.”

“Oh, they know I don’t. But they’re still gonna try anyway,” you let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish I knew what they’re up to. It’s killing me.”

“Just ask Jisung.”

“Why Jisung?” The mention of your friend’s name causes the subject of your orbs to shift to him, but he’s already looking your way. When you make eye contact, he hurriedly glances away, confirming the suspicion that something’s up.

“I feel like whatever they’re planning, he’s telling them he doesn’t want to do it.”

“Why is that so detailed? Do you know what they’re up to? Spill right now!”

Sunghoon shakes his head in denial, raising the cup to his lips before responding. “Nah, you guys are always going at it. That’s all. It’s just a hunch.”

“Fine, maybe I will. But I was gonna do it anyway.”

You’re already making your way towards Jisung when Sunghoon blurbs out. “If it doesn’t work, I’m always available.”

“You wish, Park.” But you stop in your tracks. “Wait, what?”

Sunghoon walks off in a hurry, “Nothing! Had to try at least once!”

Rolling your eyes at the birthday boy, you finally make your way to your destination but all seven of your friends go completely mute once you reach it. There’s not a sound emitting from them, and it practically forces smoke out of your ears.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jeno murmurs.

“You guys have been ignoring me ever since December started! Spill your evil plans right now!”

“Nothing’s going on,” Chenle adds, but it’s met with a crack of his voice at the final word, and you know one hundred percent they're lying.

“Haechan! I know you’re the mastermind,” you turn to your friend, but all he does is shrug, eyes still looking everywhere but yours as he nonchalantly sips from his drink.

“Nothing whatsoever. We’ve just been busy that’s all,” Jisung speaks out, but you chuckle, knowing he’ll eventually give in if you press him hard enough.

“Of course, you’re a part of this! Sunghoon told me you weren’t, but I doubted him as soon as those words left his mouth!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung’s tone changes, as if he’s warning you.

“That little shithead!” Jaemin groans.

“I knew it!” you exclaim.

“What did he tell you?” Renjun interrupts.

“Nothing, just what I said before.”

“Nothing is going on. You don’t believe us?” Jisung is still firm on his decision to make you believe otherwise. With that stupid smirk he’s trying to hide and how his form influences you to shift back.

“Of course, you’re still on that even though Jaemin just admitted you guys are planning something! You’re the worst!”

“And you’re a dumbass,” Jisung mumbles once you turn away.

“Look who’s fucking talking,” you don’t realize you’re stepping closer at every syllable exchanged and you don’t know why your friend loves to push your buttons so much.

“You always say I’m the worst and then you come right back. I don’t think you hate me as much as you say you do,” Jisung’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness to them, closing the space between the two of you as the bickering reaches its climax. But his words only fuel your rage.

At this point, you can only see red.

All you do with Jisung is bicker or fight about stupid shit. Your friendship with the other boys is the glue that holds you and Jisung together. No one could guess that you met all the boys through him. You both had been friends with benefits long ago— practically another lifetime. But you’d jump off a cliff before admitting that the shards of glass remain. And that it still cuts.

It’s impossible to act like everything is fine and you both can get along. So instead, you fight and fight until no more words can be said.

“Ooooo,” you hear Jeno say, reminding you you’re still in a place full of swarming bodies.

“What about you? You either hate me or you love me. It can’t be both,” you mutter, condemning yourself as you catch a glimpse of his lips hovering above yours. You're both staring one another down, and you notice the same vein on the side of his temple, and his jaw clenches with each phrase that escapes your lips.

“Watch it,” Jisung seethes.

“What? If you wanna play this game, let’s pla—“

“Okay! Enough of this,” Hyuck groans before dragging the both of you by the wrist and out of the main room.

“What are you doing Hyuck?” you urgently inquire, but he doesn’t reply. He only hurriedly rushes along, throwing you both into a bedroom you don’t recognize. And as you rush to escape the enclosed space, your friend shuts the door in front of your face– leaving you with your hands practically clawing at the door.

“Lee Donghyuck! Open the fucking door right now!” you yell out, unable to comprehend how your friend could think this was a solution. “Open the door before I beat your ass!”

“He’s not going to open the door,” Jisung reminds you of his presence amidst the chaos. “Not until the morning.”

“What?! No. No. No. This is not happening right now.”

“Let’s just sleep. So when we wake up, we can just get outta here.”

You scan the room, realizing there’s nothing for you to rest on except the bed in the center– the one Jisung is currently sitting on. “You think I can fall asleep with everything that’s going on? And I don’t even know what’s going on,” you’re shifting awkwardly, habitually rocking yourself on the heel of your feet following the eye of the storm.

“Just sleep. It’ll be over soon,” Jisung already makes himself comfy, placing his legs under the covers and rearranging the pillow to his liking. He’s too calm. Way too calm for what just occurred.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“I don’t know, figure it out,” he mumbles, lids already fluttering shut. You hate how you admire how long his eyelashes are.

His eagerness to ignore the dilemma influences you to the bed to pry his lids open. As Jisung opens his eyes willingly, you finally take notice of how close you both are. His eyes widen at the proximity and he shifts back to the edge of the bed in surprise. You’re caught off guard because there seems to be something lingering in the air between the two of you. And you brush it off because you know it’s annoyance.

“Just sleep,” he softly lets out before returning to his original position. “Next to me.”

His softness in these last words has you admitting some defeat– realizing fighting won’t solve anything. “Fine.”

There are still zero answers that will satisfy your scrambled mind.

And you’re trapped in a room with someone you can’t stand for more than five minutes.

It’ll be over soon. Right?

You’re fucking drenched.

As the daze of sleep washes over, you notice the stickiness between your thighs. And not the good kind.

It felt as if you just entered the fiery pits of hell.

“What the fuck?” you whine. The air was so humid, you were practically suffocating. And as you turn to the side, you see an irritated Jisung. If you thought you looked gross, Jisung didn’t have a dry spot on his clothing.

You try your hardest not to stare at the clothing sticking to his abs. This is not the time.

“Don’t,” he warns, thinking you’re about to poke fun at him.

You chuckle at the sight of his discomfort, offering a half-assed apology. “Sorry.”

“Lee Donghyuck! Turn off the fucking heater!” he yells out, but there’s no answer.

“Fuck. We’re going to die.”

“I’m not dying here with you. That’s not how I’m going out.”

“Is that so bad? Chill the fuck out,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes it is! I’m gonna kick the door down and beat Donghyuck’s ass.”

You don’t know if it’s the unbearable heat, or the constant fucking attitude from Jisung all night. Maybe it was the pent-up frustration from all the other times you both didn’t get along. But you’ve decided enough is enough.

“What’s your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always so fucking mad at me. I do nothing and you’re mad. I breathe and you’re mad. It pisses me off! At this point, I should be the one giving you the attitude you give me!”

“And you know what? I always cared what you thought. But not anymore. I’m done caring so pretend I don’t even exist,” your heart is beating out of your chest as the words spill out like vomit.

“That’s no–” Jisung’s unable to finish his sentence when suddenly his orbs follow your fingertips gripping the hem of your top to bring over your head– leaving you in a bra. “Wha-”

“It’s hot as shit and I’m not going to suffer. Do what you want,” you huff, continuing with the removal of your jeans. You notice Jisung's stare lingering on your contours as you eventually pull them off, and it appears as if a million different things are running through his mind when he suddenly glances away and shakes his head.

You’re not going to lie, it’s amusing seeing Jisung’s usual persona falter. Your boldness and the situation it creates masks the uncomfortable predicament the two of you are in. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”

“What did you mean by ‘you used to care about what I thought?’” He swallows nervously.

His words have you stopping in your tracks, not realizing your words were true candor. “Nothing, I was just saying nonsense,” is all you can render as you make your way to the bed, but Jisung beats you to it, grabbing your wrist to prevent you from escaping.

“Tell me. Please. I know it wasn’t nonsense,” his voice is like syrup, the usual bite to it completely gone.

You turn to face him, though you regret it the moment you notice how his eyes match his voice. “Well, I cared what you thought because of what we did before we all became friends. And us… Or whatever we are. I don’t know what we are now but I cared about you and what you thought about me.”

“Cared?”

“I still do…”

“Then why do we fight?”

“I don’t know. I guess you hate me so I just returned that energy.”

“I don’t hate you,” he sounds hurt, the similar bite of his voice attempting to escape. “You annoy the hell out of me, but I could never hate you.”

“Oh…”

“You really act like you hate me though,” Jisung offers a small smile.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying as hell. And I just don’t know what to do with everything lingering in the air when I’m around you,” you bite your lip at the confession, realizing it wasn’t a very good one. And you see him watch you do so.

“You mean the tension?”

“Yeah… The tension… The tension causes us to fight. Right?” The air becomes more suffocating than it already is. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Jisung so close to you, or how you’re basically naked in front of him.

“What else would we do?” his eyes are still trained on your lips.

“I don’t know,” you murmur not above a whisper. “You tell me.”

“Let me try something,” he takes a step forward, shortening the small space between the two of you. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“No promises,” you urge, because you’re unsure of what Jisung planned to do after the indirect confessions made in the room today. One things for sure. This territory hadn’t been visited in ages and it scares the shit out of you.

“What are you go–” You’re cut off the lips that make its way onto yours.

When you see Jisung dipping his head down to capture your lips onto his, you're taken aback. However, the minute he makes contact, your legs almost buckle. It's a familiar sensation, and you melt into him as he tests the waters with increasing devotion.

When you reciprocate the kiss, it gets feverish, and your trembling lips work together haphazardly, interwoven with airy sighs. His arms reach for your waist, pulling you into him harder than ever before. He knows your body like no one else, and it drives parts of your brain haywire. It feels like only yesterday that you both would rendezvous.

He groans into your mouth and squeezes your ass as you tug on his hair the way he likes it. It makes you whimper since the combination of the sloppy kiss and the rush of pleasure is far too satisfying.

It feels good. Way too good.

That's why when Jisung pulls away, you chase his lips and he emits a small chuckle at the action. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you don’t hate me and never did,” his shoulders rise and fall at a rapid pace as he catches his breath.

“I don’t,” you look up at him, and you want nothing more to kiss him again. It feels like all the frustration aimed at him was sexual. It’s honestly his fault for always looking so tempting while offering some smartass retort. “I never did.”

"God, I missed you," he smashes his lips against yours again, this time much more aggressive, and the back of your knees reach the edge of the bed, briefly disconnecting your lips. You laugh, and he smirks before diving back into you as soon as your back comes into contact the mattress.

Something possesses him at that moment, makes his hands glide up the back of your thighs, to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting to leave small bites that he later licks over to soothe the sting. “Know how much you love to be marked.”

“And I know how much you love me choking on your dick,” you giggle, licking a long stripe along his neck up to his jaw.

“You’re dangerous,” Jisung hooks your thong aside, unsurprised when he notices the sticky arousal coating his fingers. “Fuck, I forgot how wet you get.”

“It’s from the heat.” Your words contradict themselves as noises of pleasure leave your lips when he runs his fingers along your folds. Jisung, on the other hand, knows the meaning behind your words like no other. “All this stickiness is from the heat? I don’t think so baby,” he offers some stimulation to your clit and your back arches once he comes in contact with your bud.

You shake your head and he dips his head down onto your neck offering a small kiss against the side of your neck. God, he looks so hot, with the sweat dripping down the side of his temple and his puffy lips from kissing.

The lewd sounds from his fingers running along your folds sends you into a frenzy. You’re attempting to gain more friction, bucking your hips to feel more. You’re so needy for his touch. You've been longing for this touch. "I'll be nice, baby," he says, inserting one finger inside your hole, your walls engulfing him up to the knuckle. Jisung experiments with twisting and curling his fingers, enjoying the way you gasp and pulse around his fingertips.

The wet glide is so satisfying and you moan, basically fucking yourself onto his fingers. “Sung–” is all you can choke out as he begins thrusting with a rhythm you both can’t forget. “Wai–”

But Jisung can’t withhold any longer, not with you looking so pretty underneath him. Not with the sounds that he remembers all too well. His cock practically throbs at these thoughts, begging to be free from its confines when you’re already a mess. He’s pressing against your clit along with the constant thrust of his fingers. “Shit, Sung!” you wail, already foreseeing your high from the short time.

Your nails dig into his forearm, body twitching from the overwhelming pleasure only he can give you. “Oh, fuck,” the words are combined with a moan as your orgasm takes you by surprise, coating his fingers in a creamy pearl substance. It drips down your folds as he pulls away, and the wash of the aftermath runs from your toes to the crown of your head. It’s blissful, but your hunger for him doesn’t stay satiated. “Good girl,” he says as he revels in your figure.

“I need you,” you pant. “Now.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” he jokes as he pulls his shirt over his head before discarding the rest of his clothing.

“Ewww. Never say that again,” you say, earning a laugh from Jisung.

“Like words ever stopped me before pretty girl.”

He's tugging the side of your panties, dragging them down the side of your legs while practically gaping. He continues with your bra and he gazes, unable to believe everything taking place currently. You're like a dream, sprawled out beneath him. The pretty girl he could never get close to after being so close with.

“Ready?” he asks after he shakes himself out of the trance you have him in.

“Mhm,” you nod.

He pushes inside, sighing into your ear at the creaminess of your cunt. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as he bottoms out, fingers burrowing further into his scalp. Jisung, rather than staying against your neck, takes advantage of the chance to peer at you. When his nose brushes up against yours, all he sees are your lips caught between your teeth.

At the feeling of his big cock inside of you, you clench around him. He groans against your mouth, habitually bucking his hips forward. “Fuck,” you moan out, back arching at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls. Your brain is already a mess and it has been since the moment he kissed you. But Jisung loves how you’re a mess around him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, and that turns him on beyond belief.

“Move Sungie, please,” you plead and Jisung groans at the nickname you know he loves so much. It’s enough for him to grab your wrists to pin them above your head before he begins moving.

“Sung,” you call out again when he begins to move. His calculated movements have you squirming beneath him, but you’re still perfectly fit against him and it’s as if you both never stopped this routine.

“You’re mine. I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he coos, and you’re quick to agree. “Yours.”

The constant rhythm he keeps has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you're shivering when he picks up the pace--giving him a look that seems to make Jisung's cock practically explode. He snaps his hips forward, so close to the edge that you shudder at the perspective.

He's fucking you so well that your eyesight is fuzzy, and the brush of his dick against the spot that drives you insane only adds to the sensation. "I-I'm so close," you warn, your irregular breathing hitting his face.

“Wait S-sung-g no.” Just as you’re about to hit your peak, Jisung flips you over so that you’re sitting on his thighs. Though you’re disappointed in the delay of your orgasm, the angle has his cock pushing deeper than before, tip nudging against your velvety walls harshly. “Fuck, I can’t,” you beg as your back arches at the smallest movements.

As fast as words leave his throat, Jisung dips down to suck on your nipple, occasionally leaving purple blossoms. “Wait I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he says, chuckling when he sees you instinctively grinding forward against his member. “Cream my cock?” He watches your fucked out expressions, loving how your eyes are lined with tears.

“I’m planning on it, “ he smirks before thrusting up into you.

“J-jisung!” you’re a sobbing mess above him as his harsh thrusts sends pure pleasure up your spine. His name falls off your lips like a mantra, and the gibberish he can’t make out only urges him to move furiously into you. Though your brain is a puddle of mush, the band in your lower abdomen is about to snap, so you grind your hips against him with newly found fervor, stimulating your clit in the best way possible.

Jisung watches you above him as his fingers dig into your waist. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Everything about you, every part of your mind and body he worships, and he swears he’s not going to let go of you this time.

“S-sung,” you moan again and again, and Jisung continues to abuse your boob, kissing up your throat as you inch closer to your high. “So perfect.”

You let out a high-pitched moan at a specific thrust, and your thighs tremble against his. "I got you," he says as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. And after a few thrusts, you're collapsing against him, again repeating his name. You're just a lick away from teetering off the edge.

“I want it so bad,” you blabber against his neck. “S-so close. Don’t stop.”

“Give it to me,” he dips underneath to circle your bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure and you come undone, high-pitched moans and whimpers against his ear.

The mix of cum and the slick from prior allows the glide to be that much easier for Jisung to glide against as he tips over the edge as well. You’re still pulsing and gripping his cock like a vice and it’s a done deal for Jisung. “Inside?”

“Inside me,” you kiss the side of his neck. He feels euphoric as your noises against his ear urges him on and his arms hold you tightly. And after a few more thrusts and desperate hips, his cum shoots inside you. “Fuck.”

It's so much energy that when the sensation of your high washes over you, you collapse against Jisung, who also collapses against the mattress.

“You’re sticky,” you look at his face and admire how good the afterglow of sex looks on him.

Jisung massages little circles across the small of your back in comforting stillness.

“I’m going to murder Hyuck,” he realizes how much the humidity encases the room.

“Maybe not too brutal, because his plan to lock us in here so we can finally make up worked,” you notify him and his eyes light up.

“I think everyone’s asleep. How about we torture them some more?” he smirks at you.

“I say Hyuck isn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight,” you mischievously grin and it’s enough for Jisung to dive down and continue drowning in your lips.

DECEMBER 31 11:59 PM

“Damn, I can’t believe my plan worked! You guys are attached to the fucking hip,” Hyuck comes over to you and Jisung hand-in-hand.

“Your plan worked for once dumbass,” Jeno butts in abruptly, almost spilling the alcohol in his cup.

“We have no more arguing but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jaemin points.

“You guys are like rabbits!” Mark yells out.

“Gross! Not the fucking time! I need to find someone to kiss,” Renjun groans.

“Yeah but everything Hyuck does to end our suffering, it just reappears as something else!” Chenle laughs, earning a middle-finger from the subject of his words.

“Guess you were right. We can laugh about this on New Year's,” Jeno turns to Hyuck.

“Happy new year motherfuckers,” Chenle says before clinking all the cups together.

You turn to Jisung as the clock counts down, his arm around your waist. “Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

“Happy New Year, Girlfriend,” he smiles the hardest you’ve seen him in a while.

“Happy fucking new year,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours.

Happy fucking new year indeed.

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