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markantonys · 2 years

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crossroads of twilight chapter 15-end

elenia and mellar have so many rude and infuriating and incorrect and evil thoughts about elayne and i cannot wait for her to kick their asses into next tuesday

in mellar’s pov we hear a whole lot of instances of him killing women, because of course Killing A Woman is the sign of true evil and our heroes are good because they only kill men and spare women even when it is a COLASSALLY STUPID MOVE BECAUSE THE WOMAN IN QUESTION IS EVIL AND DANGEROUS AND WILL KILL AGAIN IF LEFT ALIVE. anyway.

i forgot to say this in past books but i go crazy over the fact that at this stage in the series, egwene has a horse named daishar and rand one named tai’daishar. they are foils!!!!!! (egwene and rand, not the horses. tai’daishar and jeade’en are the Horse Foils of the series, and i miss jeade’en immensely. fuck tai’daishar, all my homies hate tai’daishar. no i’m sure he’s a good boy, it’s just that i'm devastated about what he symbolizes about rand’s character arc.)

egwene has reached tar valon! after leaving for that destination 4 books ago! she thinks about how the white tower is Home. girl you were in the tower for a grand total of, what, 3 months? lmao

egwene is thinking about how she has only bad options in front of her (there’s no way to take back the tower without people dying) and has to pick the one that’s least wrong. the parallels with rand!!! they are foils!!!!

“how long ago had it been that she reached tar valon by that same route [a ship]? almost beyond memory, it seemed. an age gone. it had been another woman who came ashore and was met by the mistress of novices.” “egwene compared the farms they passed to those in the two rivers. perhaps the realization that the two rivers was no longer home made her study them. acknowledging the truth could never be a betrayal, yet she needed to remember the two rivers. you could forget who you were if you forgot where you came from, and sometimes the innkeeper’s daughter from emond’s field seemed a stranger to her.” 😭😭😭 KIDS GROW THE FUCK UP SO FAST THESE DAYS 😭😭

egwene going “of course i’m willing to negotiate with elaida! my terms are her complete and total surrender 😤” an icon and a legend, i love her

“leane paid minute attention to her clothes since joining the green ajah.” 🙄 not sure which is more annoying, the fact that Being Hot has become leane’s entire personality (she really was the blueprint for min huh?) or the fact that Being Hot is the entire green ajah’s entire personality. the concept of switching ajahs would be so interesting to explore if leane had had ANY motivation for it besides “i want to be green so i can fuck” lmao

from the next chapter: “[leane’s report was] written on thin sheets of paper in a flowing elegant hand. egwene could not see exactly why, but you could never doubt that anything leane wrote had been written by a woman.” passages that make you shout WHAT out loud jkfjgh even leane’s handwriting is Hot, i guess!

a couple of aes sedai have managed to make ter’angreal. dammit, that’s elayne’s thing! i know The Point is that knowledge is being rediscovered and channelers are growing more powerful again, but every time i see someone who can do elayne’s special talent, someone who’s even stronger in the power than nynaeve etc, i sulk. they are my special once-in-an-Age girls, thank you very much!

egwene’s learned how to make cuendillar! did moghedien teach her or did she figure it out on her own? i don’t remember it being mentioned before, and i feel like it should’ve been. why didn’t we see egwene making this discovery? all the interesting things are happening offscreen between books in this portion of the series. we’ve barely seen egwene in the past few books, but of her little screentime, i could’ve used less Sitting In Tents Worrying About Things and more Making Groundbreaking Magical Discoveries.

update: egwene did discover it by herself! moghedien “pointed the way” but didn’t actually know how to make cuendillar

“‘aes sedai should not be making things for...sale.’ salita invested that word with all the scorn of a woman who accepted the income from her estate in tear without ever thinking how it had been come by.” JSKDJFG egwene went for the THROAT the innkeeper’s daughter from emond’s field IS still in there

“she did not even know where in the world gawyn was, or what to do if she learned. he had his duty to andor, and she hers to the tower. and the one way to bridge that chasm, bonding him, might lead to his death. better to let him go, forget him entirely. as easy as forgetting her own name.” STARCROSSED................. (and once again, egwene-rand parallels! thinking their love interest is Better Off Without Them)

i HAVE been wondering, if egwene bonds gawyn (which she knows she will due to prophetic dream and i know she will due to spoilers, but i repeat that i know nothing else about gawyn’s future besides this bare fact and the bare fact of his ultimate fate, but no clue how either thing happens or anything else he might get up to, so if you spoil me on even the most minor thing about him you’ll be my enemy for life. he’s probably my least-spoiled major character and i want to preserve that!) anyway if egwene bonds gawyn, what will elayne do? who will be her first prince of the sword? poor birgitte’s frothing at the mouth for gawyn to come home and take all those responsibilities off her plate. hey you know who would be a GREAT first prince of the sword? MAT!! altho maybe it has to be a member of the queen’s family. oh, so elayne can just marry mat and then he’s an official member of house trakand, boom, all problems solved for everybody!

aha, following up from our discussion the other week, egwene confirms that “swearing on the oath rod shortens our lives by half at least”

egwene: no one wants to die before they must rand: [looks at the camera like he’s on the office]

there are rumors circulating among egwene’s aes sedai that there are aes sedai under rand’s control. “no one had mentioned Compulsion aloud that egwene knew of, but they had to be thinking it.” “‘i don’t want to think about using the fact that rand may have Compelled sisters. i don’t want to think about the possibility that he could have.’ neither about the possibility that he knew such a repulsive weave, or that he could lay that weave on anyone. she knew it - another little gift from moghedien - and very much wished she could forget how to make it.” damn lots to unpack here! 1) egwene knows compulsion!!! um!!!!!! Yet Another thing i wish we’d seen her learn onscreen (but as always, disclaimer that maybe we did and i just forgot). i wonder if she’ll end up using it after all someday, it’s too tantalizing to slip in that she knows it only for nothing to ever come of it. 2) once again, lack of communication is hindering everybody and making the series twice as long as it needs to be. 3) ever since loc i’ve been foreseeing rand vs. egwene conflict about rand making aes sedai swear fealty to him, and we’re fiiiiinally starting to see it brewing. 4) egwene hates the thought of rand using compulsion and doesn’t want to entertain it, but she can’t help a seed of doubt. it hurts how far apart these two have grown from each other! while i found their relationship in the show un-compelling at the time (going in knowing nothing about anything, i clocked right away that they weren’t endgame so it just felt like the show was wasting my time trying to get me invested in a bland childhood romance) i’m retroactively glad that it was made so much more serious and more loving than it was in the books, bc that’ll make them growing apart later hit even harder than it does in the books (where it’s already hitting me pretty hard!) i was listening to the soundtrack while working the other day and the track that plays when they’re holding hands in shadar logoth made me choke up, that moment specifically is one i’m eagerly looking forward to revisiting after having finished the books. on first watch i was kinda like whatever at that scene but having the context of the books and thinking about how young and innocent they are in that moment and how hard their journeys will be and how far apart they’ll grow, i just know i’m gonna Weep.

siuan straight up thinks cadsuane is a darkfriend LMAO i wish! that would’ve been such a good twist

“eventually they would have to deal with him, somehow. she had grown up with rand, yet she could not allow that to influence her. he was the dragon reborn now, the hope of the world and at the same time maybe the single greatest threat the world faced. maybe? the seanchan could not do as much damage as the dragon reborn. and she was going to use the possibility that he had Compelled sisters. the amyrlin seat really was a different woman from that innkeeper’s daughter.” IT HURTS YOUR HONOR!!! and yet AGAIN rand-egwene parallels, rand being disgusted with himself for using people and thinking that his old self is a stranger to him now are things we’ve seen countless times. people who hate egwene because she clashes with rand are fools and hypocrites who are missing the obvious foiling going on between them. of course they clash! that’s the whole point! that’s what it’s all About! they are foils!

egwene & co all think the forsaken have a huge weapon that destroyed shadar logoth and caused the massive channeling output. rand, please just tell people what you’re doing dear god you’re causing so much unnecessary mass panic! on the other hand, this fear is the impetus for the aes sedai to decide to make an agreement with the asha’man, which to me seems like good progress in theory but on the other hand we know taim and many asha’man are darkfriends, so it may turn out badly. still, aes sedai and asha’man working together is something we do need! in theory!

this also proves the point that so much unnecessary and OOC lack of communication happens solely for plot convenience. like if rand and nynaeve had told elayne and avi what their plan was, as it would be in character for at LEAST nynaeve to do if not also rand (sure he’s trying to protect them, but if he can tell min his plans and BRING HER ALONG ON THEM it makes no sense that he wouldn’t also tell elayne and avi), then they would’ve passed it on to egwene by now and she would know the forsaken don’t have some weapon, so she would’ve been able to placate the aes sedai and no proposal to ally with the asha’man would’ve been made. but since this proposal is likely necessary for future plot, rj had to come up with a motivation of some absurd Forsaken Mass Weapon fear that isn’t even REMOTELY true.

“[too many other places in tel’aran’rhiod] turned out to have eavesdroppers. or bone-deep sadness. she hated seeing what had become of the two rivers since she left.” 💔💔 it’s lame that perrin is the only one who went back to emond’s field bc i feel like he’s the one of the 5 i’d be least emotional about doing so lmao if egwene, rand, nynaeve, or mat went back i’d lose it (tho mat mostly just in the context of show mat with his sisters, book mat i don’t think i’d be too emotional about it)

egwene and avi meet up in tel’aran’rhiod!! oh i’m so happy to see them interact again!! avi comes dressed in fancy wetlander silks (but still with rand’s bracelet) and is then embarrassed and changes them to wise one’s clothes. i can only assume this is because in her heart of hearts she wants to be elayne’s sugar baby.

apparently pregnancy makes elayne unable to use the dream ter’angreal to go to tel’aran’rhiod. rj is making up weird and random pregnancy + channeling rules left right and center. i bet there will end up being some plot point where elayne has a problem that could’ve been solved if she’d been able to talk to somebody in tel’aran’rhiod, hence this pregnancy channeling rule.

“suddenly, [aviendha] grinned. her emerald eyes seemed almost to shine. ‘[elayne] has a wonderful temper sometimes. she threw the ring down and jumped up and down on it.’” fond wife!

“oddly, aviendha took it in stride that elayne was with child, though egwene was convinced the woman loved rand too.” poor egwene, clueless about the avirandlayne throuple. also, i swear on my life egwene was also completely clueless about avi/rand being into each other back when they were all together in tsr-loc?? since when is she aware there’s feelings there?

“egwene would not have thought it of elayne, though! and rand!” why don’t you just fuck gawyn and maybe you’ll calm down

“no one had actually said he was the father, and she could hardly ask something like that” i feel like you could ask that of your very best friend, egwene. i feel like that would be an ok thing to ask. if my BFF gets mysteriously knocked up you bet your ass the first thing out of my mouth is gonna be “who did you fuck??” on a serious note, more fractures in the gang, if elayne apparently isn’t even trusting egwene with the knowledge that they’re rand’s babies :(

fuck i am SO mad nynaeve got separated from elayne before finding out she was Pregnant Out Of Wedlock jkfjgh seeing nynaeve react to that would’ve been SO FUNNY (tho also infuriating, i’m sure - egwene’s judginess here is bad enough! but at least she concedes “the rest of the world was not the same as the two rivers. light, she had come far enough to know that much. she did not have to like it, but she had to live with it.”)

speaking of nynaeve, does she not come to TAR anymore? do the 3 of them not still have standing meetings? because since min is incapable of telling rand about the babies, surely elayne could tell nynaeve in TAR to tell him! Inexplicable Lack Of Communication For Plot Reasons strikes again. or more accurately, for Character Arc Reasons since knowing that he’s gonna be a dad and having that hope for the future and motivation to live past tarmon gai’don would interfere with rand’s downward spiral arc

ah, avi does confirm that they’ve heard from neither nynaeve nor rand. maybe nynaeve is avoiding TAR bc she doesn’t want them to find out about the top secret saidin cleansing mission. which, again, it makes no sense she wouldn’t have told them about. egwene i can see, since she’s so firmly entrenched with the aes sedai as an institution and nynaeve and rand want to go rogue on this mission, but why not have told elayne and avi? god knows elayne is keeping plenty of secrets from the tower already, she would’ve been down to handle 1 more.

upon hearing about the proposed agreement between aes sedai and asha’man, avi’s clothes change into a cadin’sor but “incongruously, the ivory bracley still hung from her wrist although maidens of the spear did not wear jewelry.” no matter how she’s seeing herself, whether as maiden or wise one or wetlander sugar baby, her love for rand is constant ❤️❤️😭😭

“aviendha was in training to be a wise one, and garments or no, she was being a wise one...part of egwene wanted to smile. her friend was changing from the often hotheaded maiden of the spear she had first come to know. another part of her remembered that the wise ones did not always have the same goals as aes sedai...it made her sad that she must think of aviendha as a wise one instead of just a friend.” fractures in the gaaaaang 😭😭😭 also, i feel like a lot of avi’s character development is locked offscreen bc we get so little of her pov. we’ve heard that she’s resumed her training but have seen nothing of it. i want more avi pov!

“if aviendha did not mention it, then the matter was something she and elayne wanted to handle themselves. surely she would have said something if it was anything egwene should know about. or would she? sighing, egwene set her cup on the table...and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. suspicion truly was part of her bones now. and she was unlikely to survive long without it.” EGWENE-RAND PARALLELS and elayne too, we’ve seen this a ton with her since arriving in caemlyn

“‘tell elayne to take care of herself. you take care of her. and her babes.’ ‘i will,’ aviendha said, now in the blue silk.” avi’s clothes changing as she’s mentally returning to her role as elayne’s wife and sugar baby

“‘but you must take care of yourself. i think you use yourself too hard.’...[egwene] was not using herself too hard. only as hard as she needed to.” egwene-rand parallels again! and avi caring for egwene ❤️ if only rand and mat and perrin could still talk to each other and look after each other the way the girls do. i have been saying this in literally every single recap post for the past like 4 books but i never stop being upset about it every time i see the girls staying friends and maintaining their support network and the boys being cut off from every loved one except their one (1) designated girlfriend! rand even has 3 girlfriends but only gets to interact with 1!

there is literally no reason (besides Plot-Mandated Lack Of Communication) why elayne couldn’t have made dream rings for everybody and handed them out! she’s seen mat and rand since learning how to make them and could’ve made them some, and perrin can get to TAR on his own (tho he doesn’t know what it is yet). i want everybody to have dream ring friendship bracelets dammit!

egwene Prophecy Dreams of mat bowling (because bowling exists in randland, nice!) but the pins turn into dead men, and an illuminator is somehow involved. some kind of battle-y thing mat will be involved in that will result in a lot of deaths, i imagine.

another Prophecy Dream of egwene herself being saved by a seanchan woman. i predict this must be either tuon or egeanin since we don’t know any other major seanchan women yet (but of course rj is a huge fan of introducing additional characters at the eleventh hour lmao)

also Prophecy Dream of seanchan attacking the white tower. oh man, they’re gonna get that far inland? no! get outta this continent! the seanchan prove that tweet that was like a single texan is a great addition to any story (egeanin) but more than one is bad news (the rest of the seanchan)

i was convinced mesaana was theodrin but now i think she’s tarna. but whoever she’s revealed to be in the end, there’s a good chance my reaction will be “i don’t even know who that is” because there are 98034985 random aes sedai side characters i can’t keep track of (i had no clue who tarna was until she referenced her trip to salidar, which jogged my memory that she was the representative from elaida whom elayne and nynaeve saw way back when)

dramatically vague discussion between pevara and tarna about a note from toveine gazal that “changes the whole world” but it means nothing to me because i don’t even know who toveine gazal is. edit: a chapter or two later she shows up with logain and jogs my memory that she’s the aes sedai he bonded. she was literally in the prologue of this very book and i already forgot jkfjgh

this is the problem at this stage of the series. too many side characters! too! many! there are like 7 major plotlines going on, and each one has a big cast of side characters who eat up screentime by having their personalities and quibbles with each other gone into in detail (the AMOUNT of TIMES i’ve heard about all the quibbles among egwene’s aes sedai and rand’s aes sedai and nobles and perrin’s camp and the white tower contingent. at least mat’s crew is relatively small and easy to keep track of.) they eat up screetime and yet are completely unmemorable and i can’t keep track of any of them, so it’s just a huge waste of time.

cadsuane pov: “verin knew more about that sort of relations with men than she did - she had never believed in indulging with her own warders, as some greens did, and other men had always been out of the question” verin knows more about. about. oh my god does verin fuck????????? i-

“cadsuane did not think the other sister knew min was bonded to the al’thor boy. she herself only knew because the girl had let too much slip in a careless moment.” MIN STOP BLURTING OUT SENSITIVE INFORMATION CHALLENGE! GOD! and let’s not forget that it would be elayne who would get in by far the most trouble for this since she’s the one who did the weave, so min’s put ELAYNE’S ass on the coals here. next thing you know she’s gonna be telling cadsuane that elayne is pregnant with rand’s babies! goddamn!! early series perrin has definitely passed the “blurting out secret shit all over the place” torch.

cadsuane pov is good because every time she interjects “phaw!” into her narration i lose my shit

but i’m still struggling to see why she needs to exist. she has contributed nothing to the story so far.

we’re introduced to the aes sedai elza (or maybe reintroduced for all i know) who’s extremely loyal to rand. but a chapter later we get her pov and find out she’s a darkfriend. RJ STOP REVEALING DARKFRIENDS 2 FUCKING SECONDS AFTER THEY’RE INTRODUCED CHALLENGE i want to scream!!!!! there is no mystery! no traitor twists! instead i am forced to sit here watching characters be unknowingly surrounded by darkfriends for multiple books (egwene and halima (well forsaken but w/e), elayne and mellar, rand and taim, even elaida and alviarin not that i care about elaida, but it’s the principle of it) which is probably supposed to feel suspenseful but is just frustrating. like, the reveal of natael’s and keille’s true identites at the end of tsr was so surprising and satisfying, more of that, please!

“what was [rand] to do about [min]? about elayne and aviendha?” “was it too late to keep min safe, to keep elayne and aviendha safe?” we are two goddamn paragraphs into rand’s pov and already getting “min!!!! and elayneaviendha blob” i am so fucking sick of this i hate it here!!!

“all he had of them at the moment was a general sense of direction and the knowledge that they were alive. min’s body was pressed tight against his side, though, and the bond made her as vibrant inside his head as she was in the flesh.” I HATE IT HERE!!!!!!!!!! genuinely i think that rand/min makes me angrier than almost anything else in the entire series, aside from the nosedive that is mat’s character development (more on that later). i would rather read an entire book from perrin’s pov than one chapter of rand/min. okay no i take that back. but it’s a near thing.

“without warning, min punched him in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt. ‘you’re getting melancholy, sheepherder.’” because as we all know, the best thing to do if your partner is depressed is to punch them. “[the wound] was not the same side that min had fisted - she was always gentle with that, if not always with the rest of him” i feel like your girlfriend should be gentle with ALL of you, rand. i feel like that would be a good thing for her to do.

“‘you have to do something,’ min muttered, folding her arms beneath her breasts. ‘logain’s aura still speaks of glory, stronger than ever. maybe he still thinks he’s the real dragon reborn. and there’s something...dark...in the images i saw around lord davram. if he turns against you, or dies...’” whoever pointed out that min’s viewings accomplish nothing but making rand’s paranoia worse (butterflydm i believe?), you are SO right. min has no clue what her viewings of logain or bashere ACTUALLY mean, she’s just speculating that they’re bad news for rand, which could be completely off base for all she knows (especially the logain one - maybe he’s gonna get glory by HELPING rand at the last battle, ever think of that?). thankfully, right now rand doesn’t seem pressed about it and just says he has to do what he can, not worry about what he can’t. but i can’t imagine it helps him to have a cassandra stuck to his side foretelling unavoidable doom and gloom 24/7 especially when half the time she’s just making up her own interpretations and misleading rand to believe she knows them for facts!

side note: if anything happens to bashere i’ll kill everyone in randland and then myself!!!!

“the woman carried more knives tucked about her than thom merrilin had. or mat. colors whirled in his head, almost resolving into...what? a man on a wagon seat?” 1) min carries more knives than thom and mat and yet has never ONCE done anything useful with them that i can recall. all she does is flourish them to look hot or stab them into the wall to look threatening (threatening to rand more often than to anyone else). 2) even RAND notes the similarities between min and mat, dammit! mat is the superior mischievous knife-wielding brunette non-channeler love interest for rand! 3) the colors and the seeing what the other person is doing goes both ways! cauthor crumbs! i will note that rand did not have a single thought about perrin in this entire book (all 1 chapter of his pov). just saying.

we see rand seize saidin for the first time since it was cleansed. i feel like this should’ve been a bigger deal. first of all, going into the series i thought the taint on saidin was gonna be a bigger problem than it ended up being, and second of all, i was picturing a really emotional moment of rand feeling clean saidin for the first time, but that just didn’t happen. granted, he still has his other weird saidin sickness going on (triggered by that guy in shadar logoth whose identity i am 99.9999% sure of but hasn’t officially been confirmed to me yet) which kinda cancels out the lack of the taint, but still! in the early books he struggled so much with the taint, it would’ve been satisfying to see him actually........be happy that it’s gone now.

loial is here! and says “you don’t know how good it is to hear you calling [rand] sheepherder, min” which i suppose is a part of the whole “min helps rand remember who he used to be” thing which is absolute baloney because min doesn’t KNOW who he used to be. she met the sheepherder ONCE. where is mat when you need him?? (off in ebou dar having pottery thrown at him by his future wife, that’s where.)

“aviendha assumed that he would marry her, and elayne and min as well, in the aiel fashion. elayne appeared to think so too, strange as that seemed. he thought she did. what did min think? she had never said.” min thinks that she wants you all to herself but doesn’t want to look bad by saying so, that’s what. also, not all relationships have to end in marriage! same thought earlier when egwene was all huffy about rand and elayne loving each other and having babies together while Not Being Married, Oh The Horrors! this attitude is just so obviously a product of the author’s own culture rather than something that makes sense in-universe. the emond’s fielders i can see, since they were raised in a tiny community with traditional values, but i feel like avi and min would be much more open-minded and less set on Marriage As Endgame (and elayne sort of since she knows much more of the world than the emond’s fielders, yet at the same time that was more like textbook knowledge and her actual life experiences had been very sheltered, not to mention that as a person she’s such a hopeless romantic that it makes sense to me for her specific character that she would seek Marriage As Endgame). and yet, even among the aiel with their views on relationships that boggle wetlanders’ minds, they don’t even seem to conceive of a romantic relationship not resulting in marriage. mat was our ONE character who was happy to have romance without marriage, but of course he’s going to change his mind in the end now that tylin and tuon are whipping him into Proper Husband shape. i mean, personally i love marriage, i love when characters get married, i would love to get married myself someday, but i just don’t think it’s realistic that this entire cast of characters with wildly different personalities and cultural backgrounds would all feel the same way lmao

“it isn’t like with you humans, min. you do everything rand asks.” LOIAL JUST ABSOLUTELY MURDERING MIN LMAOOOOO it’s true and he should say it!

“‘it has to end!’ rand thundered, echoed by the crashes in the sky. he had doffed his coat before this interview, and rolled up his shirtsleeves to bare the dragons twined around his forearms in scarlet and gold, the golden-maned heads resting on the backs of his hands. he wanted the man in front of him reminded with every look that he was facing the dragon reborn.” 🥵🥵

“he suspected flinn would fight as hard to hang on to corele as she to him; he was fairly certain there was more between those two than the bond now. well, if an aes sedai could bond a man who channeled, what was to say a pretty woman could not fix on a gimpy old man?” rand says as if that doesn’t happen all the time in this series 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

“davram bashere appeared even shorter than he really was alongside the ogier” short king!

“no matter what you’ve done, it is time to turn your eyes to the black tower before taim splits it worse than the white tower is. if he does, you’ll find the larger part is loyal to him, not you. they know him. most have never even seen you.” logain, that is a very fair point.

on the subject of taim: is he demandred in disguise, or was he originally supposed to be but then rj changed his mind? because i have seen “taimandred” referenced but as of now it doesn’t SEEM like they’re meant to be the same person, and i’ve seen mentions of demandred’s and taim’s original plotlines being changed partway through. if they really are the same, don’t tell me, but if they were originally supposed to be the same but then that was shelved, do tell me so i’m not like “we’re popping the biggest bottles when taim is revealed to be demandred!” and then it never happens jkfjgh

“[logain] knew saidin was clean, but he could not believe rand or any man had actually done the cleansing.” poor rand is busting his ass on the group project and not getting any credit for it. when a bad thing happens everyone assumes he’s behind it even if he didn’t do it, but when a good thing he actually did do happens, no one will believe he’s the one who did it 😔

“did he think the creator had decided to stretch out a merciful hand after three thousand years of suffering? the creator had made the world and then left humankind to make of it what they would, a heaven or the pit of doom by their choosing. the creator had made many worlds, watched each flower or die, and gone on to make endless worlds beyond. a gardener did not weep for each blossom that fell.” damn, rand’s getting philosophical! and depressed!

loial: “even you [rand] can’t face the dark one! i mean, i know the prophecies say you will, but that has to be just a way of speaking.” bless his optimistic heart

rand wants to arrange a truce with the seanchan noooooo babygirl you’ve gotta wipe them out before it’s too late! but then, it already is too late, they’re spreading all through the continent 😔

“it was good to have someone he could talk to about missing faile. [berelain] listened, and smelled of sympathy.” this would’ve been an excellent throuple if only perrin and faile weren’t both so painfully monogamous. but no even then i wouldn’t see any romantic chemistry between perrin and berelain (if she’s being sincere now and really has dropped her attempts to pursue him, then their newfound friendship is so wholesome!) so i think they should be co-spouses worrying about their wife together. that’s the dream!

“wil gave perrin one of those open, innocent looks that fooled so many girls back home” so wil is trying to flirt with perrin, then? bicon wil al’seen! “wil liked too much embroidery on his coat at feastdays” perrin why don’t you get more embroidery on your own feastday coats and maybe you won’t be so bitter

“[medore’s] coat, with its puffy green-striped sleeves, looked odd on her bosomy frame. the daughter of a high lord, she was every inch a noblewoman, and men’s clothing just did not suit her.” perrin quit being a blacksmith to become a member of the fashion police, i guess.

“neald grinned too much since the shaido were found” the two greatest enmities in WOT are rand vs. the dark one and perrin vs. men who smile

perrin is in such faile tunnel vision that upon hearing there are DEAD PEOPLE WALKING in so habor he’s just like “whatever, they’ll have to deal with their own problems, i gotta save faile” jfkgj DUDE

i’ve heard no spoilers whatsoever relating to this, it’s so intriguing and spooky!!! i should’ve paid more attention to the ghost elayne’s maid said she saw earlier in the book

also, another potential positive of the show’s laila addition is that it will make perrin’s faile tunnel vision in this plotline so much more understandable and sympathetic and heartwrenching (tho i still hope the show will give him additional things to care about in his life besides just faile)

oh damn!! Dark Perrin coming out in full force in his desperation to save faile!! oh damn!! and his conversation afterwards with elyas about violence was so well done, and then him sticking his axe in a tree and leaving it there. one of the best scenes in perrin’s entire pov to date.

and now perrin is going to consider allying with the seanchan to save faile. SIGH. no truces with seanchan! no!

“in truth, those silvery leashes and the three sul’dam were the only real lever [mat] had with the aes sedai...not that he really thought about putting those collars on the sisters again. not often, anyway.” ugh mat. what’s happening to you? is this the beginning of him just being fine with marrying the seanchan empress and becoming complicit in the enslavement of women who can channel? this is not MY mat, i can tell you that much. his arc and characterization peaked at him saving elayne from the gholam and since then has taken a steep nosedive.

“‘it seems suroth might have made an alliance with some king,’ juilin reported with a smile over a cup of mulled wine. at least thera seemed to be making him smile more.” unlike perrin, mat IS a fan of men smiling (also, this much-talked-about alliance the seanchan have just made is defs the one with perrin since he’s quite nearby (but i bet he and mat still won’t ever cross paths!!! ugh!!))

“‘most of the settlers seem to have been sent east,’ thom said, peering sadly into his cup. as juilin grew happier day by day, he seemed to grow sadder.” FWHFGHLSFGKLJL THOM/JUILIN RIGHTS literally HOW else am i supposed to take this besides as thom being jealous of juilin and thera

“he needed someone to attract tuon’s ire, someone to make him seem acceptable by comparison” so, exactly what rj did for tuon with tylin lmao

“tuon sat cross-legged on the floor playing snakes and foxes with olver” okay cute! +1 point for tuon

“‘toy doesn’t mean to be rude,’ tuon murmured in that slow honey drawl. ‘he just has never been trained in manners.’” -10 points for tuon. this dynamic truly is just a gross version of matlayne, i’m so mad!

“he hated battle too - a man could get killed dead!” that made me laugh so hard jdkfjgh

“she purely enjoyed the game, laughing exultantly when she pulled him into a trap, laughing in delight when he managed a clever placement to escape. she seemed a different woman once she lost herself in the stones board.” cute again! +1 point for tuon

to think mat could be in caemlyn right now giving presents to elayne who would actually appreciate them 😤 he gives tuon some cloth rosebuds, roses are elayne’s thing! dammit!

characterization update: still makes 0 fucking sense that mat is trying to woo tuon and give her romantic gifts instead of running as fast as he can in the opposite direction

“he had overheard setalle cautioning selucia that he was a rogue with women” still makes 0 fucking sense that mistress anan is having Woman Solidarity with the evil tyrants who invaded her home. especially when she got on nynaeve’s and elayne’s cases for annoying mat back in acos (if i’m remembering that scene correctly which i may not be), why did she take mat’s side against them but not against women who are evil????

i’ve heard something of this before, but here we learn officially about the seanchan marriage custom that calling someone your spouse 3 times in front of witnesses is enough to make you legally married, so mat is now halfway to being legally married to tuon. i hope you guys have been making use of this trope to write accidental marriage fics for other ships for all these years, don’t let me down!

i’m annoyed bc there’s so many memes about mat’s love for lace but it turns out he only acquired that love for lace because he got stockholm syndromed into liking the clothes tylin forced him to wear that he never would have liked on his own. that being said, i’m laughing at the contrast between mat wishing his coat had more embroidery vs. perrin hating on wil al’seen for wearing too much embroidery, just like mat being glad to see a man smile vs. perrin hating when men smile. mat is queer and perrin is homophobic jfkgjh

“[egeanin] was not the one who had to marry the last person on earth she wanted to. a noblewoman, all cool reserve and her nose in the air, when he liked barmaids with ready smiles and willing eyes. the heir to a throne...a woman who spun his head like a top” “oh, burn him, on top of everything else, he was going to marry a woman who could channel?” THIS IS LITERALLY MATLAYNE BUT WORSE!!!!!!!!! DAMMIT!!!!!!!!! if i hadn’t known spoilers and somebody had given these passages to me earlier in the series as i’ve typed them here with a couple seanchan-specific things removed, i would 100000000% have thought it was talking about matlayne. DAMMIT!!!!!!!!

also, the fact that in all his listing of tuon’s bad traits, mat does not once mention the fact that she enslaves people. okay. mat/tuon is matlayne but worse in many ways but especially because his friendship with elayne was helping mat get over his hatred and fear of and prejudice towards channelers, but being with tuon is just making it worse again to the point that (from what i hear of spoilers) he’s not even going to care that the damane system is still in place at the end of the series and he’s married to the woman responsible for it. not going to care or try to do anything about it.

“‘perhaps i will have lace added to your robes if i make you a cupbearer.’ could she still make him da’covale if she married him? he would have to ask egeanin. light, why did women never make it easy?” mat i promise you that making you worry about whether or not they will ENSLAVE YOU is not a General Woman Thing

mat also may or may not have seen dead people walking around, i’m so interested to find out what this is all about!!

tuon is happy when mat puts his foot down with her (“if you’re going to buy anything, it’s going to be here. i’ve had al the exercise i care for this morning.”) perhaps because of the classic trope which matlayne could’ve done better of sheltered royal being glad when love interest treats them like a normal person instead of bowing and scraping?

“even when a woman needed help, if she did not want it, she made you pay for giving it” remember the wonderful character and relationship development of mat saving elayne from the gholam and her sincerely thanking him for it, thus, you might think, putting an end to this sort of sexist thinking mat used to have? i miss that.

“if he left her behind, then she could not say the [marriage] words, or if she did, he would be too far away for the words to matter. if he left her behind, he would never learn why she smiled those mysterious smiles, or what lay behind the mystery.” cool, so LEAVE HER THE FUCK BEHIND THEN god!!!! so many opportunities for him to get rid of her and he just chooses not to for ooc reasons! these are the kinds of thoughts mat should only be having 5 books into an enemies-to-lovers slowburn, not after a few chapters of tuon giving him (and the reader) absolutely nothing! the fact that this romance could have been so well done and compelling and interesting makes the fact that it’s instead rushed and forced and ooc so much worse.

it’s so frustrating that 2 of my 3 #1 favorite characters (mat and rand, with elayne being the one still going strong) are now stuck with arcs and/or romances i hate for them.

but it is kinda hilarious how this book has elayne and egwene doing their own hot girl shit meanwhile both perrin’s and mat’s plotlines are pretty much entirely revolving around their female love interest. feminism? lmao

a woman (renna) escapes with the intent of exposing mat & co to the seanchan, meaning they would all die and/or be enslaved. the good news is that mat has enough sense to order her to be killed when they catch up to her. the bad news is that he’s all “aaaaaaahhhhh killing a woman!!!!!” “that made three [women he’d killed whether directly or indirectly]. never again, he thought as renna floated out of sight around a bend. if i die for it, never again.” good GOD this is one of the most infuriating aspects of the entire series

tuon: “she was trying to betray you. what you did was justice, and i name it so.” +1 point for tuon. actually +5 points because i'm so annoyed about the Can’t Kill Women thing that tuon not giving a shit is a balm to my soul lmao

EGWENE WAS BETRAYED AND CAPTURED BY THE TOWER AES SEDAI AAAAAAAAAHHHH HOLY SHIT!!!!

okay moving back to the start of that chapter. i said before that i changed my mesaana guess from theodrin to tarna, but now i’m going back to theodrin - part of why i changed my guess is that we hadn’t seen theodrin in a long time (the other reasons being that alviarin thought mesaana was a sister inside the tower and theodrin isn’t, and that alviarin said mesaana’s disguise had blue eyes and the next chapter tarna was stated to have blue eyes), but she cropped up again in this chapter just before things went bad for egwene. coincidence? i think not! plus, mesaana is a nerd so if she was in disguise as an aes sedai she would totally be brown like theodrin rather than red like tarna. “that fool girl [theodrin] has less brains than a fisher-bird! you’d think she wants someone to find out she’s keeping an eye on romanda for you.” maybe she DOES 👀👀

this is exactly what i mean when i say i want rj to hold back information about secret identities, traitors, darkfriends, etc. more often. i’m having so much fun with this mystery! nobody better spoil me!

“larine [ayellin, a new novice] was almost the same age as [egwene], and a close friend growing up. they had spent hours together, gossiping and practicing putting their hair in braids for when the women’s circle said they were old enough.” i think this is the first time we’ve heard about a specific childhood friend of egwene’s, seeing as she doesn’t seem to have been actual friends with rand, mat, and perrin like she was in the show.

another piece of evidence for our “what causes agelessness” debate: egwene talks about how the kin live longer and “show age like anyone else, if more slowly.” romanda replies “if they channel, they would achieve the look. if they age, they cannot be channeling very often if at all. and neither way could they live five or six hundred years!” and egwene says “there is only one real difference betwen aes sedai and the kin. they left the white tower before they could swear on the oath rod.” which i’m guessing is as good a confirmation as we’ll get that it is indeed the oath rod that causes the aes sedai ageless look.

a random aes sedai is said not to be “interested in men that way” another explicit confirmation of queer people existing in wotworld! and a full sister who is still a lesbian and wasn’t just experimenting as a novice, and isn’t in the man-hating red ajah (she’s blue)

okay so egwene argues with some aes sedai (mainly romanda) about whether or not aes sedai should unswear the oaths and retire, and with others (lelaine and maigan) about whether or not to more or less use compulsion on the asha’man to leash them to the tower (egwene says HELL NO and is horrified and disgusted by the thought, but lelaine and maigan think they should). this + theodrin possibly being mesaana, there are lots of potential suspects for who would’ve wanted egwene captured by elaida’s contingent. a good mystery!!!

“bode’s future would be brilliant. her potential almost equaled egwene’s.” love that for her!! and meanwhile her brother has a future of being complicit in the enslavement of women like her :) i wonder if bode and mat will ever see each other again by the end of the series.

egwene-bela reunion!!! 😭😭 “you carried me away from the two rivers. can you run as fast now?” 😭😭😭😭😭

bode was with egwene when egwene got captured, did bode get captured too???? (rhetorical question) i hope not, but i also hope so because i would love to see more of her and see her become a bigger character.

bashere says the seanchan want rand to meet the daughter of the nine moons, and good thing i know this is a trap and won’t actually be tuon because otherwise it would be SO MEAN to tease me with this possibility of a cauthor reunion in the next book. i wish!!!!

and the conclusion is an emo as fuck poem that rand may or may not have written jkfgh i’m yelling!! love that for him! can’t believe he found time to write a poem.

thus i have made it through what i believe is widely considered the worst book of the series lmao it wasn’t as bad as i’d expected. i definitely think that reading the books all at once rather than as they’re coming out, with years between books, helps the pacing feel not as bad. the faile kidnapping plotline, for example, while my least favorite of the current plotlines, doesn’t feel as dragged out and meandering as everyone said - it’s really only like 5 chapters per book, which is not that much wasted screentime. but overall, definitely not much happened in this book. like 2/3 of it was devoted to showing people reacting to a channeling event that happened in the last book, which is just ridiculous fjgkh it’s going to be hilarious when the show does all that in 1 episode or less

thoughts on the plotlines: elayne’s is by far my fav of the current plotlines, my eyes glaze over a bit with all the minor aes sedai and quibbles between them in egwene’s but i’m enjoying hers overall (and am very excited to continue it because of that cliffhanger), perrin’s pov has always been boring to me and is not significantly more boring nowadays, rand’s and mat’s have sharply declined in enjoyment because i hate their girlfriends and mat’s character direction. but i know matlayne and cauthor reunions are coming eventually, so there is light at the end of the tunnel!

#the fact that i could do this entire book in only 2 recap posts shows how little is going on in it lmao #granted this one is quite a long post #wot #wot book spoilers

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joyful-soul-collector · 2 years

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Excerpt:

“If you fuck with me again, I won’t go so easy,” he said. “Tell your friends. When you see me coming? Run.”

Taglist will be added in a reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction #marvel #MCU #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #HE'S HERE HE'S HERE HERE HIS IS LADS LETS GOOOOO #IT'S THE BOOOOOOOOY #FUCKIN JAKE LOCKLEY LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #gOD i've been so excited to post this chapter for so long #PLEASE let me know what you think of this one if you read it I'm quite proud of it

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almondcroissantsandink · 2 years

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so this isn’t art related but I got offered a museum job today!! It’s not full time but it’s to be a project archivist for this esteemed historical collection and I wouldn’t have to work my bookstore job anymore and it’s not a permanent job but it’s like stepping halfway out of the trenches and I feel like I’m currently filled with light???

#personal #i know i've posted some job hunt updates on here so here's a good one!!#I walked in and everyone was VERY nice and they were like #okay we have an extra office you can have an office is that okay?#and I was like ??!! I'm so used to not being paid and being given like a dirty pencil to use and told to make it work lol #and they were basically like 'the pay is twice what you make now #is that okay?#and please come on these days because sometimes we leave for lunch and we don't want to leave you alone #and I was like?? office?? leaving the building for lunch?? huh #I was very much giving victorian orphan removed from the workhouse #and like i said its not permant it's on a grant #i also now have to think about quitting my bookstore job which i felt i was never going to escape and now i can #like bruh #sometimes good things do happen you know #the bookstore job can be very fun but i have an MA and it's minimum wage so I've been literally stuck living at home for the pandemic so #i can dream of having an apartment again #sorry for long tags I'm just so shook

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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year

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...

#oof. it as been a very very long day. so much talking. all day talking and interviews #and so far my feelings are mixed. bc it is a smaller university and its underfunded and cost of living is kinda high #and the town is small and isolated. HOWEVER #the faculty feels like a strong community and theyre all amazing scientists who choose to b there bc the quality of life is so high #they seem extremely supportive and the fact its small means that i could probably get around better given my intense anxiety around driving #and i could literally just walk to hiking paths rather than having to drive way out. and its fucking so beautiful. the clouds r gorgeous #bc theyre all conpressed by the mountains around this lil valley. also the potential advisor seems amazing. the grad students have good #things to say and hes excited that im interested in the things im interested in. and i talked to an astrobiology guy and he was like u #should apply for X grant and i would b happy to help u and the advisor is a former nasa post doc so he has nasa astrobiology connections.#so those r some pretty great things. i mean. of the schools im looking at this one would prob be the best for my brain tbh #i mean the uk one is too rigid in structure and i cant fuck around so much as at a us school. and the east coast on is hard to say no to bc #its a good school with lots of funding and opportunities to b creative but i would have to hard core get my shit together and hes quite #hands off. and id b living in the city which sucks. so like. i mean this school is kinda looking like the best choice for me. definitely #the healthiest. i mean assuming i dont fuck it up and get the offer after this weekend. but yeah. i mean im not fully in love i think #and the idea of commiting to 5years here is terrifying but id get a lot of support that i dont think ive really ever had. not that my #current boss isnt great but our lab is kinda disconnected. and i really fit in perspective wise in my interests. and id get to work at #[redacted] national park. which is so cool that i might have to unredact it if i end up here bc its so fucking next level #not that the national park i have access to now isnt awesome but. like its next level awesome and i could maybe wiggle may way into maybe #some arctic systems and i bet i could get my current boss to send me desert samples. so yeah i could def see a life here #but fuck i dont want roomates with all my heart. y does it have to b so expensive for a trash apartment? bleh #god. im so tried. so much talking. but a good day. and im going skiing tomorrow bc like thats a thing here lol #unrelated

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heartyearning · 1 year

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context for today’s rant is that i got the feedback on my jury’s written feedback in the ‘general’ section (meaning it comes from more than one person) that i’m disrespectful towards my teachers and fellow students (i got it phrased in 2 different ways for flavour) & when i asked around today who said this so i could see how i could change my behaviour (btw none of my fellow students think this which i know bc i asked and everyone was shocked that i got this feedback) all of them were ‘i dont think this but it was discussed that’ which is funny bc it means the school’s computer system has a ghost or no one wants to fucking apologise to me for a very personal and hurtful comment that they can’t back up, but anyway, i was asking for clarification & my most diplomatic teacher (who i dont for a second believe to have written this feedback bc she’d have said so to my face no doubt) was like “well some teachers are worried about you and [best friend]’s clique & think it might turn into an Intellectuals Vs Others thing” (i don’t need to tell you this is so fucking out there i nearly fell from my seat like i have never said this in my life and when this very teacher saying this made a comment about one of my less-well read fellow students i was one of the ones who ‘‘rallied’‘ or whatever in her favour) and anyway then she continued “some ppl feel like u make condescending comments & you just need to remember not everyone has had your trajectory in life” WHICH IS FUNNY because she says this bc my bestie’s got a whole philosophy degree but i’m a highschool dropout with a lower than average iq in certain subjects. which obviously isnt even close to being the point and i do know that but i’m clearly feeling very upset and mad about this whole situation.

#my mom says i shouldnt let this embitter me but i think they should either find an example of when ive been disrespectful #or apologise to me and take it off the written feedback #i had to sit there and listen to everyone say that they dont think im disrespectful which is so fucking humiliating #because i KNOW that. but i still spent all weekend long worried out of my mind & i sat there trembling like a leaf and fucking crying #because i feel so betrayed by all these people im ngl. like im supposed to open myself up to these people and i DO #and be vulnerable with them and i AM #and yet when something like this comment is thrown around in a feedback discussion no one stands up for me?#& i know that they dont like. know all of us individually THAT well like i know that im vulnerable and open with them and they dont like #remember specifics #but theres only 14 ppl in my class which granted is a lot but its not enough to just forget that ive never done anything disrespectful #to any one of my fellow students #in the words of my favourite wrestler: This Has Hurt Me.#and in the words of my best friend who is mentioned in the post: kinda sus the only two people who got this type of feedback #(she didnt get it QUITE so harshly but she got the feedback that she should be a little more considerate towards other students #which is still nonsense because literally like everyone else said she's the one we'd all come to if we ever had a problem)#but kinda sus that the only ppl getting this feedback are the two neurodivergents in the class #whatever. whatever whatever ive been crying im upset im somehow even more upset by one of my teachers being like #'this isnt ok esp this phrasing & i'm gonna look into this' like she's super nice and sweet and it does make me feel better #but its also like. confirmation that i SHOULD feel upset somehow? idk. oh it sucks so fucking bad #& i told one of the other ones about this in terms of like 'listen i have autism i dont always know how to interact w ppl #so when i do this or that this is what i mean' and she was like 'wow ive learned so much this discussion has enriched me'#werent the point bestie. the point was for you to please stop making assumptions when i am not the only person to react in this way #very unhappy right now. this has hurt me dot tweet

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ddejavvu · 10 months

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this is cheesy but when spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.

the first time he comes home to a full fridge and clean apartment he's a little confused, but when he brings it up and she confesses hes just sooooo touched and appreciative.

the first time he comes home and shes asleep on the bed or couch or wherever he just MELTS. like an actual puddle on the floor kinda melting bc hes just so overwhelmed with love 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Spencer Reid is, quite possibly, the smartest motherfucker in the FBI. As an esteemed profiler, he notices right away that you've been in his apartment, from the post-it note grocery list sitting on the top of what's in his trash can, and a lack of dust over his kitchen counter like there typically is after he's gone on a case for a few days.

He spots 'donuts' on the list, and when he pulls the fridge open, lo and behold, there's a bag of mini chocolate donuts on the top shelf. He smiles to himself, giddily so, more than elated that you'd remembered an offhanded comment he'd made about liking them so much, especially when they're chilled.

He remembers everything anyone tells him, but people rarely stop to listen to his own words. So often it can be cast aside as nerd babble, so knowing that you'd picked up on the small tidbits of personal information he'd given you makes his seldom-fluttering heart do just that.

He feels a little bad that you'd stocked his fridge and ran, but he doesn't have to for long, because when he heads to the living room to drop his messenger bag there, and restock it with a different book, you're snoozing in his chair.

It's a recliner, one he'd splurged on so that late-night reading would be more comfortable. You've popped the footrest up, but your feet barely touch it, because you're curled up closer to the seat. Your head rests on one of the arms and is dangerously close to slipping off, so he kneels by the armrest, joints cracking.

His face hovers millimeters away from your own, your breath hitting his cheek and vice versa. He smooths a stray wisp of hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss the skin it had been covering.

"Hi, angel," He croons, keeping his voice as soft as humanly possible. He doesn't want to ruin this, whatever heavenly moment that the seldom-kind universe has decided to grant him.

Your lashes flutter at the feel of his lips on your skin, and you turn your face to lean into the touch you don't yet know is there. He can't help but laugh at the way you arch like a cat to be closer to him, and the breathy huffs fan out against your forehead.

His slender hand comes up to hover beneath your head, because when you worm closer to him, it slips off of the armrest. He holds your head up but you're finally starting to stir from the movement, and you lift it to blink groggily up at him.

"Spence?" You ask, like you're verifying his identity and not asking why he's home.

"That's me," He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. His hair is slightly sloppy, frizzed and out of place from the day's hectic activities. At his confirmation you hum sleepily, resuming your cat-like activities by shutting your eyes again, leading with your nose as you nudge your face into his own. From the angle you're at his lips can only pucker to hit an awkward spot between your cheek and your nose, but the skin there is warm and soft from a facial mask he knows you used last night.

"Morning," You grumble, and he won't inform you that it's 7 at night.

"Hi, sweetheart." He croons, unable to stand up straight before you decide you want a hug. It means his butt hits the floor when you lunge for him, and he laughs as he tries maintaining an upright position.

"Oh- ah!" He laughs, eyes scrunching in a gleeful smile-turned-laugh when you knock into him. He cradles the back of your head, feeling you settle into his embrace like he's your new reclining chair.

"'Missed you, Spence." You mumble against the fabric of his jacket that's covering his shoulder. He curls his fingers into your hair at your admission, stroking briefly through the strands.

"I missed you too," He agrees, "I saw you bought me donuts."

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I did." You recall, eyes already drooping again, "We can have some for- for dessert later."

"That sounds like a good plan," Spencer grins, but you can't see it where you're nestled into his shoulder. He's waiting for you to get up, not because he doesn't want to hug you anymore but because he wants to stand and move, but when you stay firmly in place he realizes you're sleeping again, and that there's no way he's getting off the floor in the meantime.

He could wake you, tell you it's time for a late dinner and ask you to work on the eggs so that he can chop up the add-ins for an omelet. He could corral you back into the chair and take the bed for himself, read for a bit after getting changed. He could do any number of things to make himself just a bit more comfortable, but instead he chooses to commit his butt to the floor, surely flattening it for all eternity. He scoots back carefully until his back is up against the couch, so that his less-than-perfect core strength isn't relied upon as much.

From there he rests, disinterested in using his phone and too far away from his bookshelf to read. But he finds just as much meaningful entertainment in counting the breaths that you release against his shoulder, as well as counting the different possessions of yours he can see scattered around his apartment.

Your shoes, one. Your water bottle, two. Your sweatshirt, three. Your snack, four. Your keys, perhaps the most meaningful possession of all, the spare that he'll never regret giving you, five.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 3 months

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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Height Difference Headcanons

AKA What it's like to love a Short King

I was already inspired after my last headcanon post, and have some more fun little ideas for Lucifer X Reader, namely in regards to our dear Fallen Angel being the short one in the relationship. Got a bit sillier and spicier with this one, and I hope you're all ready for some very spicy ones in the near future!

- He's accustomed to being shorter than most, and while he's not one to accept mockery of any kind, he's more than comfortable enough with himself to accept nicknames and loving platitudes about his height from a romantic partner. Hearing you sweetly refer to him as a "Short King" will always get him smirking, and an affectionate "Little Lucy" makes him melt every time. Cooing over how cute he is is also sure to put him in a happy, purring mood, to the point he'll end up laying his head on your lap if you'll let him. Hearing about how darling you find him whilst having your fingers run through his hair might just be his favorite pastime.

- Between the wings and his angelic powers, he doesn't actually struggle to reach anything high up, but he will still appreciate it if you preemptively grab the item in question. That's not to say he won't ask, but he'll always make a point to be as silly about it as possible when he does. Requesting a lift is his preferred way of doing so, and he'll take his sweet time lounging in your arms after grabbing what he needs, even stretching out bridal style for a bit of carrying. Angelic magic can make him light as a feather for extra long bouts of carrying if you're willing to indulge him.

- He'll be the first to tell you all about the advantages of his stature, and at the top of his list is how often he finds himself at bust height, which is quite the gift for a breast man like himself. Yours are the only ones he's interested in, obviously, but he loves how easy it is for him to come in for a hug and tuck his head in between. You'll find him doing this wether he's had a great day or a terrible one, with the former being to celebrate and the latter being to get some much needed comfort somewhere warm and soft. He can't help it if your boobs are just the perfect place to put his face.

- He's going to borrow your hoodies. Granted, "borrow" is an interesting term for something you'll never get back, but he always ensures you're compensated in some way or another. No top of yours that fits him is safe, and the looser it fits over his smaller frame, the better. These oversized clothes are never worn outside the privacy of his quarters, and he wears them most frequently when circumstances keep the two of you apart, particularly at night. Having something of yours all around him is like having your embrace from a distance, and he can't help being sentimental enough to find comfort in that, even after so many eons.

- He's small, but you'll never forget that he's an absolute powerhouse, if only because it's beyond obvious when you're in his presence. Angelic power practically hums through the air if you listen closely, and that's just what you can sense at a distance. Things are even more intense when you come into contact with his lean physical form. For all of his grace and agility, he doesn't lack for physical strength in the slightest, and you learn that the first time you feel him support your body with his. He'll never once give even a hint of effort, let alone struggle, no matter how considerably you tower over him. Carrying you bridal style takes no more effort than one would to lift a couple of grapes. As such, he'll happily take you into his arms or lap, and showing off his unfathomable strength in romantic gestures always gets him puffing his chest with pride.

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loveydovey-leviathan · 7 months

Note

(for your recent post)

hmmm how about mal and reader were having an argument or sumn then he's like " hmph let's not talk to each other for now >:( " so you grant him some space/or silent treatment and mal is like dramatically waiting for u to talk to him for HOURS in his room just brooding there and when he realize you're still ignoring him, he's like a pathetic sad wet cat needy for ur attention now bcs he couldn't stand being apart from u.

im sorry for the basic ass idea lol 😭 im just a sucker for silent treatment scenarios like this

malleus x gn! reader

a/n: written as romantic -> FOAMING AT THE MOUTH, IM A SUCKER FOR THESE TOO 😔😔 hope i did this justice

one of the many things malleus adores about you is your stubbornness. the way you don't back down against what you think is wrong is something that will always set him ablaze with admiration for you.

though he doesn't quite like it when that pride is directed at him.

he's realizing this now when scornful words are spat between the two of you in the living room of ramshackle. clouds and lighting are beginning to gather as a response to his irritation and annoyance. he doesn't even know what this silly argument was even about or why it started in the first place, and unfortunately, malleus can be just as stubborn as can be.

"since you insist on being childish, i think it's best for us to not talk for a while," he isn't even looking at you as he says this, so when he disappears into pretty green firelights, he misses the hurt expression on your face as he leaves.

this is stupid, you think, but you bite your lip in worry as you walk upstairs and lay in bed, grim beside you snoring away. you said things you didn't mean so perhaps it's best to give him space, though how long that will go on is unknown to you since your lovely dragon is a fae with a rather skewed perception of time... whatever, he knows where to find you as soon as he decides he's comfortable enough to talk this out.

unbeknownst to you, malleus is now brooding in his room, lying face down on his pillow. the clouds around nrc have gotten worse, static brushing against the air as he waits for a phone call from you. preferably a sincere apology since he obviously deserves it after the things you've said.

...

well, he supposes it wasn't entirely your fault. he uttered words all to anger you as you did him, though none of them were true. you weren't childish, the opposite in fact-- having to take care of that first-year duo and that cat you're always hanging out with, taking precious time away when you could be stroking his hair and kissing his hands and petting his horns. as you do.

that's another thing he likes about you. even if you don't spend as much time together as he'd like, what you do to him is more than enough to compensate. you know he likes being kissed on the neck, you know he loves it when you take of his gloves and hold his hands, you know he loves when you lightly blow on his ear. you always look so happy when you do it too-- like seeing him smile makes you-

wait, isn't he supposed to be angry at you? he humphs and pouts when he realizes you still haven't called. he turns his head, eyebrows crossed and he stares at the phone on his desk. the only reason he learned how to use a phone was so you could contact him and send him texts and "memes" like you do with the rest of your friends.

he considers going to you himself but immediately shoves the idea away. he's still mad at you after all.

...

the clouds start pouring rain.

it isn't even the raging, storming kind-- the ones with howling winds and thunderous claps of lightning that illuminate the very sky. it's sad and cold that heavily drops on your already straining roof. your dampened mood worsens and you decide to get out of bed and make a hot drink to help you sleep.

you briefly glance at the alarm on your bedside table and see that it's 2:31 a.m., way too early to do anything at all.

just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear 3 heavy knocks at the front door. any normal person would panic and call a friend for help, but your friends ace are usually the ones getting kicked out, so you figure something similar happened.

imagine your surprise when you see your boyfriend in all his 202 cm glory. his hair sticks to his face in an unfairly handsome way considering he's absolutely soaked, and somehow the look accentuates the pretty green hue of his eyes that have only ever looked at you like you were everything and more, even when he's angry at you.

...did he walk here?

you continue staring at him for a while and your realize that while your lover is incredibly beautiful- so much so the word beautiful could never begin to describe him- he is also very. pathetic. if only people knew how much of a wet cat he was. he even bumps his nose against yours as an act of affection sometimes.

and that fact is ever prominent right now. his arms are crosses and his lips are jutted in a cute pout, refusing to say a word.

"..."

you don't know what to do exactly, considering there isn't a manual for 'what to do when your draconic boyfriend stands outside your front door in the soaking rain while he remains completely silent', so you slowly turn and walk through ramshackle's living room and into your dainty little kitchen.

heavy footsteps follow close behind you, followed by a light thud of a closing door and the muffling of the rain. malleus continues to follow you when you boil enough water for two, when you take out your tea bags (gifted by kalim) and seep it into the water. you take the occasional glance here and there, wondering if you should speak before ultimately deciding against it. maybe he doesn't want to talk right now.

he sits closely next to you- so close your knees touch when you rest yourself on one of the seats against the table. your fingertips briefly touch when you pass him the newly brewed tea and it's almost like he wants to reach out to hold your hand, but he pulls away at the last second.

from there, you sit in silence. the heat of the mug spreads from your cold fingertips and you warm up as you drink your tea. already, your becoming tired. you look at mal once more and he still has that adorable pout on his face, but his eyebrows aren't as furrowed as before. usually, you'd gladly offer a cuddle during a rainy night, but tonight's been strange.

so when you try to leave your seat, a hand suddenly stops you. it's the first time he's looked you in the eyes the entire night and good god it's cute, lame and pitiful all at the same time. truly, a stray kitty in a box out in the rain begging for attention. his eyes look up at you in the saddest way possible and you swear you see a wet sheen-- and that damn pout that's going to be the fucking death of you one day is still there.

"i'm sorry," he mutters, and he shifts from one hand holding yours to two. "i can't stand being apart from you." the apology is blunt, honest and sincere, just like him.

you gently lift the hand he wasn't holding to his cheek and he nuzzles into it, closing his eyes as he enjoys your petting. something deep rumbles in his chest and you realize he's purring again.

"m' sorry too, mal. shouldn't have said what i said."

almost immediately, the heavy rain lessens before quickly coming to a stop. there's a smile on his face and the all-too-familiar, tell-tale blush on his cheeks. you place your finger under his chin and tilt his head before kissing him softly. he's dormant and still, like he's afraid of breaking this moment, but he tightens his grip on your hand like he's afraid you'll leave.

malleus chases your lips in hopes for more when you pull away all too soon. he's staring at you with a look as sweet and delicate as spun sugar.

"let's go to bed, mal."

he chuckles like he always does. "if you insist, my love." like he wasn't waiting, hoping you ask him.

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notjoelmiller · 2 months

Text

i cared

MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader summary: three and a half years ago and an ocean away, he tore you apart. now he's turned up at your door. wordcount: 4.1k warnings: smut (fingering), drinking, AFAB reader, possible past dub-con (reader was in a bad mental state and simon knew), simon is a shitty guy in this, talk of hypothetical suicide, talk of past bad mental state (depression), mentioned PTSD, heartbreak on both sides, death mention (MW:III canon) a/n: hey remember when i said that my next fic would be joel and i posted a little insert. that was a lie! instead of working on that (12k word, currently) monster, i wrote something else. if you couldn't tell, i started this before the holidays and then forgot about it.

ao3

The house is much nicer than Simon anticipated. When he saw the New York City address, he had expected you to be crammed into a shitty 6th-floor walk-up. But no, not you. Instead, you have an honest-to-God three-story home with red brick delicately dusted with snow. You certainly couldn’t afford it on the 141 salary. He always suspected you came from means. This just confirms it. It just makes him wonder why the hell you decided to slum it in the services for so long.

It reminds Simon that he shouldn’t be there. You weren't made for that life and left for a reason. Who is he to ruin your peace?

He’s not alone on the street. Well-to-do families of strangers pass by, all watching the masked man observe their neighbor’s home. He can still turn around and leave you to the life you so clearly want.

Something shifts in one of the windows, the curtain being tousled by something. A dog. You got a dog– a golden retriever with sharp eyes and, evidently, an even sharper bark. The canine goes berserk, barking and howling and growling at Simon through the window. It’s Simon’s cue to leave, to leave you be with your semi-rabid, semi-domestic canine.

But before he can move, the curtain shifts again– pulled this time –and you’re there. You squint for a moment, surely wondering what masked freak is standing in your walkway like he owns the damn place. He lets you scrutinize him. It’s now or never. Either you’ll tell him to fuck off once you realize who he is or you’ll call the police on him, though it’s not like they would do anything after he calls Kate.

Instead, you disappear behind the curtain, your loyal steed of a dog following hot on your heels. In a moment’s notice, the large front door, with a gilded knocker and door knob open. You beckon him in. He follows, eyes trailing up and down your body once you’re facing away from him. You’re dressed casually but smartly in a short denim skirt and cashmere sweater. Simon’s never seen you in that getup before, even when going out to the pub.

“Shoes off,” you order, motioning towards the neat shoe rack next to the door. They’re all women's shoes of the same size. Simon’s shoulders relax, and he slips off his boots. It was for the best, he figures. His old boots would have just dragged dirt into your space. He takes off his mask too, hanging it up with his jacket. It’s nothing you haven't seen before.

Simon follows you into the sitting room– at least, that’s what Simon guesses the room is. It’s too neat for your taste, or his memory of what your taste is exactly. The couch and single chair seem untouched, the air still, like Simon’s presence is cutting through some sacred stillness.

You point to a couch and Simon obeys, sitting with his hands on his knees. Your eyes lock with his without granting him any semblance of your thoughts. Simon keeps his gaze soft, neutral. You can scrutinize him all you need.

You sigh, straightening your posture. A smile pulls at your lips. Your smile lines crease deeper than he remembered. Or maybe they always creased that deep.

“Tea?”

***

“He’s quite protective,” you drop two sugar cubes into a cup of tea. The spoon in your hand lets out a delicate tink as it hits the porcelain cup. You hand Simon the teacup, it’s just how he likes it. “Always has his haunches raised, even when he’s not working.”

Ah. A service animal. He’s surprised to not have put that together sooner. Always loyal, the pooch plants himself at your feet, gaze burning into Simon. If looks could kill…

“Your home?” Simon asks. He lifts the teacup to his lips and sips. Simon places the teacup on its saucer impossibly slowly. Simon can’t believe you’d trust him with something so delicate.

“I inherited it.”

A smile creeps on Simon’s face. Teacups and generational wealth. He always knew you were posh. Or whatever Americans call posh.

“You’re on holiday?” You ask.

“‘Tis the season.”

You hum. Your house is the only one on the block without some sort of holiday decor. Simon wonders if it was a pointed decision.

“And you came here.” Why?

He can’t tell you the truth. The fact is that every day since you left– all one thousand two hundred ninety-eight of them since John uttered to his fuming lieutenant that you just weren’t fit to serve any more –he’s ached. One thousand two hundred ninety-eight days of no contact. Of his only proof that you ever existed being a photo and a tear-stained note with one sentence scribbled in ink: John has contact info– emergencies only.

“I wanted to wish you a happy holidays.”

You laugh dryly, though it sends a pang of pain through Simon. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that sound. “Usually people send a card for that.”

You observe Simon with precision, like you never left the force, though the way you scratch Yogi’s belly unconsciously betrays the hardened exterior. It’s a glimpse into the last three and a half years. Of the woman you’ve become– so foreign to Simon. Foreign to your past self. Or not. Maybe this is who you’ve been all along, just hidden behind fatigues. Maybe the woman Simon thought he knew was just a farce. Rich girl playing army for a few years.

Maybe you joined the force just to fuck around for a bit. After a few years, you’d have stories to tell your socialite friends back home. Except, you didn’t get what you wanted, didn’t you? Simon knows well and good that serving, the 141, and him, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, destroyed something in you.

You tap the porcelain of your teacup. It makes a pleasant ding. “Did John tell you where to find me?”

“No. Well–” Simon tries to tell you the truth without throwing his comrade under the bus. The truth was, John had indulged in one too many drinks at the pub one night and hadn’t locked his quarters. An envelope addressed to you sat front in center on his desk. “Not intentionally.”

It’s a satisfying enough answer. Only a small twinge of annoyance crosses your face before you hum. “This isn’t a guilt thing, right Simon?” You ask, “I didn’t do what I did because of what happened.”

“What we did back then, on the field,” Simon traps you under his gaze. His stare is aggressive, but he hopes it conveys the intense feelings he’s struggling with. “I can’t just leave it. That’s why I came.”

Simon doesn’t dare speak. He doesn’t dare breathe while he watches you process his words. It’s a load of crap, he knows it, and he knows you know it. It’s just a matter of whether or not you want to kick him out.

You smize, teeth coming out to tug at your bottom lip. “Have you ever had New York pizza?”

***

You order two pies, hushing Simon when he insists it’s too much. You were right. Two isn’t enough. Simon scarfs down one pie without coming up for air. It’s delicious. It isn’t until he’s four slices deep that he realizes that you, smiling widely at him, haven’t yet picked up your first.

You’re a gracious host– a natural, really. You perch yourself on the kitchen island, legs crossed in a way that makes your skirt ride so sinfully up your thighs. Simon doesn’t look of course, he’s a gentleman. At least, he is for the first bottle of the ungodly expensive red wine you procure. It’s then that you perch your leg on the counter opposite your spot on the island, right next to Simon. Old habits die hard– especially when inebriated –and Simon places a hand on your leg, massaging the skin of your ankle.

You pay no mind to Simon’s ministrations, though, lost in the domestic bliss and mindless conversations you’ve probably been drowning yourself in for the last few years. You wave the glass of wine wildly about, like you wouldn’t give a damn if it spilled all over your expensive clothes. It seems so natural for you. Simon wonders what you were ever doing with the 141 when posh city living fits you like a second skin.

Simon inches his hand higher up your leg as you speak. He doesn’t get very far, but it’s enough so that he can trace patterns into the soft skin of your thigh. It’s too much, though, because your eyes lock onto his. But you’re not mad. You don’t tell him to stop. Rather, you examine him, and in your eyes Simon sees what looks like mirth.

“I missed this,” Simon says. He cringes at the words leaving his mouth. He’s succumbing to the domestic bliss you’ve created, looking at the past through rose-tinted glasses.

You reach for a third bottle of wine and a corkscrew, furrowing your brow in thought while twisting the screw. “I didn't want to abandon you,” you say. Simon, watching you pop the cork off with ease, almost forgets that you’re talking to him until you lock eyes. He watches you sniff the cork, pause, then sniff it again before topping off your glass. You take a heaping swig, like that Pinot Noir worth more than Simon’s monthly pay is unremarkable. “I left for a reason, you know.”

Oh, Simon certainly knows. The rumors had been inescapable in the first weeks of your absence. All around base every soldier had entertained the question of what happened to the American chick in the 141. Simon had only so many threatening looks to give privates before curiosity got the better of him. He abated the desire to ask John for so long, but there was only so much longing he could handle coupled with the cacophony of voices asking the same thing he desperately wanted to know.

John didn’t flounder when Simon finally came to him, demanding to know why you left.

She was discharged.

Why?

For… mental reasons.

Simon lost his shit in Price’s office that morning. He collapsed onto the couch with a gasp, a hand grasping and squeezing his heart. His breath left him, but Simon was too bloody stupid to understand what the hell was going on until Price was handing him a brown paper bag.

Breathe, son.

“Simon,” you breathe, your saccharine voice the most tantalizing sound Simon has ever heard. You lean forward, your finger tracing the scar parallel to the cut of his jaw. You were there for it, saw the knife slice through his mask and the skin underneath. You bandaged it in the helicopter after, making Simon promise to go to medical afterwards. He promised he would. That night he closed the wound with superglue. “Why did you really come?”

Because you disappeared. Because Price said you were on the brink of becoming a statistic. Because I fucked up. Because I said things I didn’t mean and I thought that it killed you.

“Johnny’s dead,” he lies. But it isn’t a lie. It’s true, sure, Johnny’s been reduced to ashes and scattered in the Scottish highlands. But that isn't why he came.

“I know.” You sniffle. Christ, Simon’s made you cry. Nausea washes over him. A voice in his head screams, fix it, idiot! But emotions were never Simon’s strong suit. Instead, Simon reaches for the bottle and tops off your glass of wine, probably a bit more than he should have, but it seems like you need it.

You mutter a thank you and down a bit more than half of the glass. You come up for air and hiccup. “John told me.”

“Price?” He asks, as though there was any other John. Anything to get you talking rather than crying.

You nod. “He dropped by around Thanksgiving. Asked if I wanted to be there when you all…” You wave your hand in the air, “You know.”

Something ugly festers in his chest. Maybe if he actually went to a therapist, Simon could recognize what it is.

“You said no?” He asks.

“I didn’t think I could.”

Simon nods, holding your gaze in a way that he hopes conveys his sense of understanding.

“How’d it happen?” You croak. Your eyes are glassy, a reminder of the ever-looming threat that you could fall apart again. Simon reminds himself that you wouldn’t be crying if he had just kept his distance.

“Bullet in the head.”

You tense, your head flying to Simon. Your eyes are frantic, searching for something in his face. “He…he…?”

Christ.

“No, no,” Simon scrambles to get his next words out, “Makarov. It was-” His voice cracks. Unusual. “-was too fast to stop it. To save himself.”

You hum, slumping down like it’s comforting to you that Johnny had his life torn from his arms. Like it’s comforting that Johnny couldn’t go on his own terms, but on the terms of a Russian terrorist.

“You know,” you say like you know he knows, “Johnny’s the reason I got out.”

Simon shifts. Johnny never talked about your discharge, always responding to speculation like he was none the wiser. “He is?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. It’s deep and watery. “Things were…bad one night. He found me. Talked me through the night. Listened to me.” You throw your head back, eyes tracing imaginary patterns on the ceiling.

“He told Price?”

You nod.

“That was after we…”

You nod again. Simon feels sick.

“It had nothing to do with you, Simon.”

“I never thought it did.”

“Then why,” you ask, “did you bring it up?”

Simon shifts. “Thought it was relevant.”

You smile, though your eyes are still lined with tears. “Guilty conscience?”

“Of course not, love,” Simon laughs, hoping you buy it. It works, he thinks. You seem to deflate, slumping a bit. You take some time to think. Simon, panicking at the thought that your self-reflection could send him out the door, pulls out the one trick he has over you.

He lets your legs fall. They bang against the cabinets with a soft umph from your lips. Simon slides off of the counter and stalks your way. You watch him and put up no fight as he slots his wide body between your knees. You don't even complain as the parting of your legs forces your skirt to ride even higher.

Fingers card through Simon’s hair. He hums.

“Why did you do it?” You ask.

Simon tilts his head, and with the wine in his veins and your hand in his hair, the world spins. Your other hand slips under the hem of Simon’s shirt. Warm fingers graze the skin of his stomach and then side, before your hand settles on his back, palm splaying across scarred flesh.

“I–” Simon croaks, “–I felt something for you.”

You snort. Simon’s chest burns and he takes some deep breaths to calm himself. He imagines Price’s paper bag, inflating and crinkling over and over.

“You knew I would leave. That’s it, isn’t it?” You accuse with a gleam in your eyes. “I was in a bad place and was leaving so it didn’t matter if you hit it and quit it.” You laugh. “You got what you wanted without risking your position.”

“That’s not true.”

Your thighs bracket his legs, trapping him against you. Your words curl around your wine-stained tongue. “‘I don’t love you’. Isn’t that what you said Simon?”

“Love–”

You tense, thighs squeezing him like a vice. “Love,” you coo, the imitation of Simon’s long vowels curtles unnaturally on your tongue. “Love, love, love. You know Simon,” you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and lean into the crook of his neck. Your lips brush against his skin as you speak, “You say it, but you’ve never meant it.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon utters, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.

“You’re not.”

He’s not. He doesn’t argue. He could– should, rather –but he can’t think straight with you this close to him. The scent of your perfume itches the deepest part of his brain. You never wore perfume when on duty, rather, always coated in the aroma of base-issued shampoo and sweat.

“I really cared for you, you know,” you whisper, your lips millimeters from his, them parting when his fingers rub you through the fabric of your underwear.

“I know,” Simon closes the distance, capturing your lips with his.

He pushes you back onto the counter, you let him, lets Simon cage your body like he has the right to. You groan into his mouth when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth and melt when his fingers slip past the hem of your panties, his fingers plunging through the wetness into your cunt.

It’s obscene— the noises you make as he thrusts his fingers into you. With his free hand, Simon pushes your skirt up over your hips so he can watch your cunt squeeze around him.

He slides his thumb up to your clit and you gasp. “Simon,” you moan. He nearly stops. It’s been years since he’s heard you say his name, let alone moan it. Fuck, Simon can’t help but grind his cock against the island counter, groaning.

It doesn’t take much to work you into an orgasm. Before he knows it, your moans become softer, higher pitched, and you’re coming apart, clenching hard on Simon’s fingers.

He works you through your orgasm, whispering praise into your ears. Simon gives you no time before pouncing, fisting his hands in your hair and devouring you. You wiggle underneath his weight, uttering something, but the words are lost into Simon’s mouth. He pulls away, his eyes meeting your expectant ones.

“What?”

“Upstairs,” you say, chest heaving. “My room is upstairs.”

***

Simon wakes before dawn. He’s lying on top of you, your strong breath rocking him up and down. Your limbs are impossibly tangled. He’s reminded of an identical morning, years ago, of what he did then, and what that choice led him to. But that was years ago. You were different then, broken. How was he supposed to know that his choice would make you shatter?

He untangles himself slowly. It feels like the process takes hours, though the sun fails to make an appearance by the time he slips out of bed. The clock reads four in the morning. That explains it. It also explains the way the room around him is spinning slightly. He’s still drunk– or at least buzzed –from the night before.

His pants are an easy find, discarded by the door. His shirt though… Simon spins around the room, eyes glazing over the space. He tries not to take anything in too deeply, too personal for this morning.

He spots his shirt on your vanity. Simon yanks it off, but something hard and heavy comes with it. It nearly drops to the floor, but Simon catches it before it can hit and wake you up.

It’s a perfume bottle, heavy and half-filled. Simon can’t suppress the urge of his half-drunk brain to sniff it. The scent— the scent of you —explodes in his synapses. He tosses a glance over his shoulder, ensuring you’re still asleep, before pocketing the bottle.

The dog follows Simon as he walks through the house. Luckily, as he slips on his shoes, the dog disappears into the rest of the house.

Simon lingers with a hand wrapped around the door knob. It warms under his touch.

“Are we doing this again?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, “I ‘ave to.” Simon stays facing the door, though he doesn’t make a move to turn around. He knows how he must look to you, too cowardly to face you. He’s reminded of the last time he spent the night with you. He got out scot-free. What would have happened if you found him then? Simon can’t say for certain whether or not he would have left then, if you called out for him in the same delicate voice.

“Stay.”

“What?”

“In New York,” you say, voice dry with sleep. “With me. Get out of the SAS, the 141, all that bullshit.”

“‘S not that easy.”

“It is. I left. You can leave. Or you can stay and end up like Johnny–”

“What do you know about Johnny,’ Simon growls, turning on his heels. He straightens his spine, puffing his chest up like you’re a threat. Your dog buys it, growling and worming himself between you and Simon. You don't take the bait though. You honest to God laugh in Simon’s face.

“I know enough.” You step closer to Simon. The pooch gets the memo, clearing the way for you. Simon almost does the same, he wants to. Some instinctual part of his brain needs to cave to you. “You mean something, Simon,” you flick your eyebrows up, letting them drop immediately. It feels like a challenge, like you were asking Simon the silent question. Do you matter?

“You’re more than a soldier– more than a body on a field, waiting to drop.” There are tears in your eyes. You don't let them fall. Simon hopes you’ve finally realized that he isn’t worth your heartbreak. He’s never been, but at least your realization would stop his cruel cycle of him chewing you up and spitting you right back out.

“Come to New York, Simon, please. There– there’s a butcher shop up the block, they’re always looking for help. You said you used to do that stuff, right?”

Fucking hell. He had said it to you, years ago after a mission. Simon went drink for drink with Johnny and Gaz and got positively wasted. It was the night he first set his sight on you, when your tenderness sunk its claws into his heart and refused to let go. You didn’t know then what it would lead to. Simon did. Every love Simon had wilted in his claws. Why would you be different?

“Come here,” you plead, “Take the job with them. I can help you find an apartment or you can live with me but–” You grab Simon’s shoulders, tugging. It isn’t strong enough to turn him around, but he does. Your cheeks are wet and eyes glassy as you stare up at him. “Simon, it’s too late for us, but don’t let it be too late for you.”

Simon lifts his hand to your cheek, fingers grazing the plump skin. It slides to the back of your head and tugs– yanks you into his embrace as he crashes your lips against his own. The morning makes you soft though, as Simon nips your lips with his teeth, you melt, softening and slowing your movements.

It’s you that pulls away first, staring at Simon. You let him swipe his finger across your cheek, caressing you.

“Please,” you beg, kissing the palm of his hand.

Simon lets his hand fall from you. It sits achingly cold at his side.

It would be cowardly to leave you without a goodbye after forcing himself back into your life, even if it was for one night. Simon considers himself to be many things, but never a coward. Yet, standing in front of you, staring into your expectant eyes, words don’t come easy.

You step towards him. Simon steps back. The door knob presses into his back. His heart is pounding, the blood in his eyes deafening him. Your scent wafts his way, your perfume. The one whose bottle he knocked over, nearly let slip through his fingers and shatter. The one which you never got to wear in the 141. The one weighing down his back pocket.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Simon says.

He doesn’t look back. Not when you gasp his name. Not when he opens the door. Not when he walks down the snowy street.

Price and Gaz will ask about his holiday. They’re kind like that. In the cab to the airport, passing the bottle of perfume between his hands, Simon considers his answer. Single word answers are his forté, but won’t suffice with the prying curiosities of his captain and sergeant.

The answer comes to him when he sniffs the perfume once more.

In the coming week, when Gaz claps him on the back, he will ask, “How was the holiday, Ghost?”

Simon will answer, “I had a meal with an old friend.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #ghost x female reader

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soullessdianthus · 8 months

Note

Could we get some pervy soap or ghost 👀👀

You got me hooked on pervy Konig 🥵

A/N: Your wish has been granted. (≖⌣≖)

Warnings: cocky, playboy MacTavish who is possessive af (he has no shame), nsfw (choking?, ass slapping, exhibitionism, shower sex, masturbation, creampie, rough sex as punishment)

My requests are open for I don’t know how long (as I have a lot of work lately)! ٩(^ᗜ^)و Just please read the disclaimer (pinned post)! Send requests HERE ✉︎

✧°. John was a pretty popular guy in his school years. And he knew he was quite handsome too, so he never really complained about the lack of girl’s attention. Things got a little different when he enrolled in the British military.

✧°. As he reached his twenties, Johnny wasn’t satisfied with teasing all these other recruits in a hall or a canteen. Especially, because it rarely ended with sex, almost never. He was a busy man with loads of obligations around the base. It could be certainly said that he changed a little and grew out of the playboy phase.

✧°. For a while at least.

✧°. But the lack of previously mentioned intimacy almost drove him nuts. Perv!Soap was a simple man, he just needed to blow off some steam, you know?

✧°. Then one lucky day, a group of new recruits came into the training grounds and you certainly got his attention. A pretty thing that smiled to him as you walked by Sergeant MacTavish.

✧°. Johnny felt like his veins were flooding with testosterone again, the mere sight of your curves, made his cock throb. None of the other women soldiers intrigued him so much. it had to be that innocent smile of yours.

✧°. So naturally, Perv!Soap offered you a little tour around the base, while keeping his hand on your lower back. He was just trying to be nice and give you a warm welcome, right? He seemed like a spark of joy!

✧°. He would find himself daydreaming about you, about what position he would put you in or what would he do to pull the sweetest screams out of your tight throat.

✧°. His imagination was wild – you were just sweeping the dust to the tray while kneeling? John already was imagining you on your knees in front of him, begging for his cock, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth.

✧°. Perv!Soap would be a bold type of man, whose intentions were crystal clear. He wanted to mark you as his as soon as possible. MacTavish couldn't bear the thought of other men laying their disgusting hands on you. He had to claim you first.

✧°. The perfect opportunity happened, when you came into the gym for a sparring session. Of course your good friend was there to train with you! Johnny invited you into a ring, before giving some advice.

✧°. Being bigger and stronger than you, Soap made you stumble and fall more times than a fingers hand has. Yet, you kept standing up, willing to continue the sparring session. Perv!Soap enjoyed each minute he had your body within his firm grip, your front or back rubbing against him. It really riled him up.

✧°. So when he had you on the ground, laying atop of him and between his thighs in a tight chokehold, Johnny threw a couple of inappropriate jokes towards his friends who were watching the ring. They laughed and you tried to wiggle away once again.

✧°. “Hope yer gonna keep the spirit, bonnie. I like ‘em feisty.” He whispered into your ear, when your throat was being suffocated with his bicep. You struggled again, letting out a whine and a huff. Such an innocent sound, however it got John’s cock almost hard. You felt it digging into your lower back.

✧°. Perv!Soap would make clear that you already belong to him. If some unfortunate soul dared to look at you in the wrong way, MacTavish would pin them to the wall and threaten them. Or, in a worse case scenario, he would just punch the wretch’s jaw or nose. Hard.

✧°. Furthermore, when crossing him in the hallway, Soap wouldn’t bother with decency. If he had a desire to smack your plump ass, he wouldn’t hesitate. John would smile to himself, if he managed to pull a loud gasp out of you, when his strong palm struck your bum.

✧°. Perv!Soap’s confidence would only boost if he ever made you flustered. Which was often. With previously mentioned slaps or dirty words whispered into your ear.

✧°. “Oh, bonnie. Let me fuck yer pretty tits, eh?”

✧°. “Good lass, learnin’ fast, aren’t we? Got me wonderin’, what else can I teach ya?”

✧°. When it came to drinking outside the base, after a successful mission let’s say, Soap would rather sooner than later pull you into his lap. His thighs were more comfortable than a cheap chair and this way he could watch over you.

✧°. Because he was a good friend and didn’t want anybody to throw a pill into your drink, right? Johnny called it a “scary dog privilege” when you sat at his thighs. But to be honest, for him it was a power move. Everyone else from your group acknowledged how protective Soap was over his girl.

✧°. Perv!Soap would sneak into your shower cabin and shush your loud gasp, before anyone could hear. He placed his big palm against your lower jaw and placed a finger over his lips. You were so cute, when you tried to cover your modesty, even now when both of you were completely naked.

✧°. “Ya gotta help me, bonnie. I’ve got a problem.” John said to you, pointing at his painfully hard cock. Your face turned bright red.

✧°. “Now? Someone might hear us!” You yelled at him, keeping the whispering tone. Slowly your hand that was covering your breasts, loosened up and rested at the side of your body. Fuck it, he already seen enough.

✧°. “Sh, sh, sh. Don’t ya worry, I’ll be quiet, eh?”

✧°. Petrified or willingly, you allowed him to guide your smaller hand over his throbbing length. Soap stood close to you, his chest brushing against your perky nipples as the stream of warm water ran down your curves and his toned muscles.

✧°. Perv!Soap showed you how to stroke him and where to squeeze him. As he predicted you were in fact a fast learner. Quickly you understood how he wanted to receive a handjob and you complied, encouraged by his hand sneaking to the side of your face. The other one was playing with your nipples.

✧°. Sergeant was breathing heavily, huffing into your face just below his. He was getting closer, faster than ever before. You made him this soft, it was your hand that drove him into sweet like honey delirium.

✧°. When he came, his cum spurted onto your palm and some landed on your stomach. Soap moaned, holding onto the shower stall on his left.

✧°. However, the warm and thick liquid was washed away by the trickle of water.

✧°. “That’s a good girl.” Johnny would be so cute and sweet on you, when you did whatever he asked you to.

✧°. But when you misbehaved or even unwittingly flirted with another soldier, Perv!Soap would be rather rough and tough with you, shoving you into the closest, empty storage in the base.

✧°. Johnny would push your face against the wall, tightly gripping your wrists behind your back. He didn’t care when you scowled and whined at him. Soap kicked your feet further apart, before he started to grind against your ass.

✧°. “You belong to me, remember? Only I can fuck your tight cunny, lass.”

✧°. Perv!Soap didn’t care that you mumbled out an apology, he wanted to make a point here – to show you were his little fucktoy.

✧°. So he pushed his way between your puffy folds without any preparations, John knew you would take him anyways. He wasn’t so sweet and gentle about the intercourse, not at all.

✧°. Soap set a fast and rough pace that made each of his powerful thrust borderline painful. Balancing between the soreness and pleasure. One of his hands kept your wrists restrained, while the other hand grabbed a fist full of your hair, forcing you to arch your back for him.

✧°. Your slightly suppressed moans and whines were music to his ears, only encouraging him to keep thrusting into your tight cunt.

✧°. And just before his actions made you and him orgasm, he pulled out of you and nestled his cock between your puffy folds. Ropes of thick cum covered your pussy and instantly began dripping onto your underwear.

✧°. Perv!Soap would pull your panties back up to their place, clinging tightly against your wet sex. Somehow you were conflicted and couldn’t decide if you were disgusted by the feeling of his semen smearing across your labia or were you aroused.

✧°. “Go on, now.” Johnny told you, slapping your clothed ass in a gentler manner.

✧°. “But–”

✧°. “If any bastard would try to sneak their hand into your panties, they’ll know, who this cunny belongs to, yes? I marked it.”

#✧°. marie answears #request #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #perv!soap

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amerricanartwork · 17 days

Text

RW Headcanon: "Pebbsie Privilege"

Here’s a headcanon I’ve had in the works for a while, and now I finally want to share it! It's shorter than some of my others, but I hope you'll still find it amusing!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So firstly (and I plan to expand on this more later) I headcanon Five Pebbles is someone who cares a lot about his appearance, though not in a prissy or snooty sense and more in a “likes being the smartest and most sophisticated one in the room” sense. That means, more so than the average person, he generally doesn’t like being teased, ignored, belittled, condescended to, or otherwise disrespected, and very understandably so if you ask me! But it also means there exists a very special ability when it comes to interacting with Five Pebbles that almost no characters have.

It’s no more than the ability of someone to refer to Five Pebbles as “Pebbsie” while he’s in earshot without getting death-glares from him. Looks to the Moon, who first started using it, affectionately calls this ability “Pebbsie privilege”, and she ends up being one of the only characters who has it (besides Innocence, who in my portrayals eventually gets it too). Though even so, Pebbles originally got rather flustered when she called him that alone, much less in front of others, considering it's definitely a very cutesy nickname. In fact, poor Pebbles really didn’t like being called “Pebbsie” because one of his least favorite ways of being treated is like a child (which includes being thought of as "cute" in any way). This unfortunately happens to him a lot though since he’s part of the newest iterator generation and tends to have lots of uncommon ideas rarely taken seriously by the older models, and this treatment only amplified as he grew more stubborn and arrogant.

To elaborate on the origin, Moon developed the nickname pretty much on an impulse — quite a rare thing for her to act on actually — of wanting to hearken more to her role as “Big Sis Moon” and show love to her little brother. Soon after she started using it though Pebbles would pull her into private chats and urge her to drop it to save his dignity. Not wanting to hurt her brother in any way, it didn’t take long before she apologized and stopped using it, and basically got her "Pebbsie privilege" revoked. In the current time she secretly still likes calling him that in her mind, but knowing how much he dislikes it she always feels pretty guilty afterwards, despite them being no more than thoughts at that point. While not a major issue in-and-of itself, this situation was actually a small step in worsening a long-time fear Moon has, though that’s a headcanon for another day…

On a (marginally) more positive note however, after Moon’s collapse and the worsening of Five Pebbles’s rot, along with him generally reminiscing about the things he used to have (as part of yet more character headcanons I’ll elaborate on some other time), he actually began to grow fond of the nickname more and more. Yet he also couldn’t also shake the growing heartache the memories brang, as he came to see it as a reminder of his sister’s never-ending love for him and the better times he now regretted taking for granted and trying so hard to escape. While I headcanon he handles it differently in Downpour’s canon, in the worm-off-the-string AU story I’ve got so far, Moon slowly regaining her “Pebbsie privilege” and Pebbles appreciating it and no longer taking it so seriously (though he still forbids its usage in public) could serve as a small, yet sweet indicator of character growth for both of them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Aaaand another RW headcanon done! I wanna mention, though, now that I’ve got more of an idea for the aforementioned AU I really want to start posting more of my headcanons for the Local Group, since the character interactions, histories, and ultimate character growth is perhaps one of the most important elements of that story so far. I’ve spent at least a couple weeks creating almost 40 pages worth of character notes, and while this particular one started out as just a little side-headcanon, I ended up tying it into all of that. Hopefully I can start sharing the main parts of these headcanons soon!

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kquil · 11 months

Text

JAMES POTTER | KISS CAM PART 2

SUM. : even though yours and james's relationship is public, his jealous streak continues

G. : fluff ; modern au ; ice hockey player james ; girlfriend reader ; viral sports couple ; fans love you together ; protective james ; jealous james ; you're his ; he's yours ; everyone should know this by now ; heated kiss

LENGTH : 1.9k

PART 1

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Now that your relationship with James was made public, he’s been more open to showing how much he adores you on the rink. You never miss any of his games and he makes a point of visiting your side of the rink during opening warm ups for a kiss through the glass. It’s the same one you gave him when your relationship first became public, where you kiss your fingers and press them against the glass where his lips are directly behind. Being the goof ball he is, James makes a show of puckering his lips and making a kiss sound every single time and, although you feel incredibly embarrassed by it, you just fall even harder for him each time. Your rising fans and shippers are very much the same over your relationship, so supportive and ‘oooo’-ing and ‘ahhh’-ing behind you from every interaction.

During every intermission as well, James would come over to interact with you through the glass, whether to draw a heart on the divider or just wanting to get your attention with his puppy-love eyes. And all exchanges always end the same way, by James getting pulled away from the back of his collar by his teammates.

It’s pretty obvious how in love the two of you were with each other and you’ve become a viral sports couple in the media. The fans adore your dynamic, dubbing James the cheeky loverboy and you the shy sweetheart, which were pretty accurate titles. Their support and love for your relationship made you wonder why you both were so worried about becoming public in the first place, granted there were a few bad eggs here and there but the majority accepted your relationship and you couldn’t be happier. However, you do wonder whether the reason why your relationship became public added to that positive reception or not.

The moment James came over and claimed you as ‘his girl’, it went viral on social media. Many people reported on the incident, made multiple edits of it and some even scoured through videos of past games James played in to try and spot you in the crowd, just to speculate on how long you’ve been together. With all of that, the two of you quickly overtook some of the current famous celebrity couples in popularity. It was quite a romantic way of announcing your relationship, especially when James had the reputation of being the playful goofball of the team through interviews and such; seeing him get aggressive outside of the sport was surprising.

It didn’t help that, on one of your spontaneous dates with James was clipped by Sirius and sent circulating everywhere online.

James had asked for access to the rink so he could practice some moves in his free time and you tagged along with lunch whilst Sirius and Remus came for company and fun. Soon enough, it turned into you and James just having fun on the ice. You’re a clumsy, first-born fawn on skates but James was always there to steady you with his sturdy frame and strong arms so you had more fun skating than you typically would on your own. The two of you were giggling and joking about, just being the sweet couple that were and being so incredibly cute that Sirius couldn’t find it in himself to tease you two about it. Instead, Sirius merely captured the moment James lifted you in his arms - the typical princess cary - and took you for a lap around the ice on video and posted it on his instagram story. There was no audio to overshadow the laughter you and James shared before you cupped his cheek and kissed him deeply. The lighting, the moment and the chemistry between you two couldn’t be denied and you went viral again. It was a lot of attention, mostly good but some bad too.

Trust Sirius to give the fans what they want, seeing as how you and James still try to stay private about your relationship on social media. It wasn’t too much of an issue though since he always asked before posting anything, this particular post though, was the only exception.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t be happier because, now, you can freely support your hard working boyfriend without having to hide under baggy hoodies. Sometimes you dressed up in a cute dress, sometimes you dressed down into one of James’s spare jerseys, proudly showcasing his name and number. It’s a secret but he loves it most when you wear his jersey. It’s also a secret that you wear his jersey whenever you want him to take you home early with no plans of leaving the bed for the night and most of the following morning. He treats you so well.

In this particular game, you had made something special for James to wish him more luck and comfort. It wasn’t much but you wanted him to have something that’ll remind him you were always close by. You also wanted to give him a real good luck kiss before the pre-game warm ups started. James had expressed to you the night before that his nerves were more sensitive than usual because the team they were up against were quite formidable. He knew it, his team knew it and the fans knew it so the seats were packed for the game tonight - it was nerve-wracking. Tonight would be the perfect time to give him the gift.

On the way to the locker rooms behind the rink, you were a little unsure of which changing room James was in because you wanted this to be a surprise and didn’t ask for any further information.

“Oh, hello there,” A man with a black and yellow jersey greets you as he walks out the locker room door you were contemplating knocking on or not, previously unsure of which team was in which but immediately went warm in the cheeks upon realising the mix up, “how did you get down here, pretty lady?” he flirts, making your breath stutter. It didn’t feel right for any other guy to address you so endearingly if they weren’t your James.

“I’m so sorry,” you quickly regain yourself and clutch your small present in your hand, “I mistook which locker room to go to,”

“No worries,” he leans down in an effort to level with your height and meet your eyes more directly, “but I am a little disappointed that you aren’t here to see m-” he’s cut off when you catch a glimpse of James over his shoulder and run the distance to his figure outside the locker room further down the hall.

“James!” you run into his arms with a grin, completely forgetting the man you had just encountered, who was now in a silent death-stare exchange with your boyfriend. Running up to him, you miss James muttering something under his breath, eyeing the figure past your own.

“Number five…”

“Look James, I made this for you,” you present the gift, “for good luck,” the excitement in your voice gradually fades with the influence of your bashfulness.

James kept the opposing player, who had not left yet, in his peripheral as he turned his attention to the soft face towel you were offering him. His heart swells when, in the corner, he spots neat stitches of yours and his initials surrounded by cutely embroidered hearts. You’re really so cute, he can’t fathom how he ever got so lucky. His heart softens further when he takes in your timid but adorable form, looking up at him with curious eyes, gauging his reaction.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” James says, his voice purring more than usual. He has full confidence that despite the opposing player displaying clear interest in you, never leaving and still eyeing up your form, James knows that you will always be his and him, you. Your focused eyes solely trained on him, your sweet smile only for him to see and your cute way of dressing only for him to undress later, it’s all for him and it’s all he needs to know that you are his forever, “I love it,”

“Reall-” he cuts off your excitement by pressing his lips against yours, throwing your gift to rest on his shoulder so he can have both his hands free to trace your silhouette down to your cute butt and give a possessive squeeze. Like clockwork, you squeal into his lips and give perfect access for his tongue to ravish yours. It’s a very heated and possessive display. James wants everyone who sees you two to know that he’s the only one who can have you like this and you’re the only one who can make him like this.

Lost in each other, time quickly passes and when you two eventually pull away, the other player is gone. Good riddance, James scoffs in his head, his telling smirk giving away his thoughts. You could see it all. Being his girlfriend, you knew exactly why James behaved like that but you weren’t complaining; you got one hell of a kiss out of it and there was no violence, nobody was hurt. What he needed was for you to anchor him. And you did, by gently taking your gifted face towel off his shoulder and pressing it to the perimeter of his face.

No words needed to be spoken, James could see it all in your eyes. You knew him too well to let his actions slip past like that, however, knowing that your response was only to reassure him with a tender touch and loving actions rather than berate him, his love for you grew even more. He loves you so much. Soft and with a comforting ache in his chest, James hugs you and lifts you off the floor. He tucks his face into your neck and whispers his apology into your skin.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asks, face still nuzzling your neck as you bury your own into his unruly, dark curls.

“You didn’t hurt me, Jamie…”

“Good…I’m sorry for being so forceful and…possessive,” still in his arms and with your feet off the floor, he gives you a small squeeze.

“...I love you,” was your only reply; your own way of forgiving him.

“God…” James sighs dreamily, pulling back to and press a tender kiss onto your lips, “I love you more,”

You giggle and kiss him again, “I love you most,”

“Impossible,”

When the game finally started that night and you had properly kissed your boyfriend ‘good luck’, James became a prominent instigator on the ice. His plays were more violent and aggressive, especially to a particular player wearing the number five. It was pretty bad and you were getting worried, not just for James but for the other team’s number five.

Half time comes and James is seen getting a visible talk down from the coach, there was tension in the air but the excitement for the game still too precedence, shaking the air with an infectious vibration. Before the game starts its second half, James makes a quick visit to your front seat for his usual kiss past the glass. This time, however, he wasn’t being a goofball and worried you but his tense figure visibly relaxed after the pseudo kiss, much to your relief. The second half of the game, he wasn’t as violent but became the top scorer, earning point after point after point.

Suffice to say, James’s team was the clear winner and you had much to celebrate his victory on the ice in the bedroom.

NAVI.

A/N : this was one of my unexpectedly really popular timestamps, thank you all for the support! hopefully you darlings like this addition just as much as the first. i've taken the liberty of adding additional tags who expressed their interest in the first timestamp if you lovelies don't mind

TAGLIST : @fredweasleysjumper @ghostgardn @melinajenkins @astonishment; @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @loveltdoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @diputy @taytaylala12 @its-sappho-biotch @hiya-itsamber @arctvrvs @lilmaymayy @callisto00 @crying-on-the-floor @yrluvjane @neeezza101

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n

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setsugekka · 11 months

Text

❥summer hair = forever young (m)

↳ Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself.

Day one? Dinner and a movie.

Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks.

Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.

lee jeno x fem!reader — summer fling, strangers to lovers, fluff, light angst, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [18,1k wc] cws: alcohol consumption, penetrative sex, oral sex (f), praise, dirty talk, body cum-shot, Lee Jeno has a Big Dick.

J♡ [22:40]: i just think with summer coming up it's probably for the best, we had fun but we both knew it wasn't a forever thing anyway

A year and a half. Just like that.

Even now, two days after the break up text from your boyfriend — the boyfriend that you were very much in love with and very much thought it to be at the very least a potential forever thing with — you find yourself coming back to it. Rereading it. Wondering what it was that brought the two of you to the here and now of it all.

Though, the pictures of him at a party that had been posted the following day sort of gave it away, you suppose.

Still, there had been talk of future plans, futures together and what that looked like. Maybe not quite a family and the white picket fence just yet — but there had been discussions over romantic dinners and between the sheets after some particularly enjoyable bedroom romps. At least, you had thought as much.

In hindsight, a break up always causes you to put every interaction leading up to it under a microscope. What could you have done differently, better, how could you have avoided the reality that you now find yourself in.

You choose not to reread over the texts you've sent him since, mostly out of humiliation of the fact. Through the crying and the begging and the reducing yourself down to someone that you don't even recognize even in the worst of times, the only thing that makes it that much worse is the lack of any such acknowledgement from a man who had once promised you so much of himself. Not granted even so much as a conversation — hell, he couldn't even be bothered to meet you in person to do it properly — the most likely case? Jaehyun met some girl at some party that in the moment he felt was worth ending the relationship for.

And in times like this, you realize it's difficult to think that you ever really know someone at all.

In the following weeks, your friends are kind, but even you can tell that they begin to get fed up with your insistence on being miserable over a guy that couldn't grace you with even an ounce of the same thoughtfulness.

Constantly turning down plans in favor of staying home on the couch with a bag of snacks and some shitty romance flick, the squad of pals that you've collected over the years only becomes more and more pushy of your getting up and out there once again — in the nicest way, of course. Comments about how he wasn't even that handsome (a lie) and wouldn't end up being all that successful anyway (also a lie) sneak themselves into conversations at any brief moment that any of them can sneak them in, as if attempting to convince you of the fact; rather, the reminder of him only serves as just that. You don't need it, because you're still at a point of pain in your chest where Jaehyun is always there. Knocking, jabbing, not allowing himself to fall off from your mind even for a second.

They mean well, but these things take time. You're thankful that with summer vacation coming up and the girls having plans to go out of town for a few weeks that you'll be granted a small amount of reprieve from the barrage of commentary, at the very least.

That is, of course, until the day comes.

"Rise and shine, darling! We're going on a mission!"

Waking to the shrill voice of one of the girls as she rips the covers off of your body — simultaneously exposing your freshly opened eyes to the offending illumination of the sunlight outside as another girl pulls open the curtains of a window just across the room — you briefly attempt to reach for the duvet before instead accepting defeat and instead slumping back into the cushion of the mattress, anticipating whatever nonsense these women have in store for you this time.

"What kind of mission?" You ask with a dry and throaty groan.

With blankets bunched in her arms, a girl with long, silver hair brings herself just next to your head while you remain lied and despondent in bed. "Today we leave for summer vacation."

One eye cracked open at the words from Winter's mouth, you groan again before answering her. "Yes, you all leave for summer vacation. I told you I wasn't going."

"Why?" Another girl chimes in from the doorway. A beautiful woman with long, silky black hair. "So you can stay here all month long and continue feeling bad for yourself? That guy was a fuckin' loser anyway."

"Karina."

"What?" She adds in retaliation. "He was."

Still standing by the window and with a white curtain in hand, Giselle rolls her eyes at her friends bluntness. Really, you know them all to believe it to be the case, but Karina is the only one willing to go to such feats to speak on it.

"What she means is that it would probably do you some good to get out and come away with us," Giselle amends, garnering a rather unbothered shrug from Karina along the way. "It's only two weeks, it certainly couldn't hurt."

Sighing at the words, you remain laid out in the comfort of your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you realize that there is still a small part of you that can't help but consider the possibility of Jaehyun calling you to tell you of the mistake that he has made, that the two of you should meet up and rekindle things, and the thought of being far away and well out of reach should that time come to pass causes an uncomfortable twisting in your gut that you're not all that ready to disclose to your friends in the room.

Partially because you know it to be so far from the realm of possibility, and partially because it's not a conversation that you're all that interested in rehashing with them now, either.

Regardless, you know there to be truth in their words. Staying home and feeling bad about where your love life has ended up thus far is not going to serve you: not in the near or the far future. Knowing as much, it then begs the question...

Is it worth throwing away an entire summer vacation for?

Inhaling slowly, your lips part to speak, but as your eyes fall upon Winter once more, you watch as her face begins to twist into that of glee before the words even begin to leave your mouth.

"Yes!" She exclaims with a jump before turning and ushering the other girls to begin packing belongings for your last minute trip.

It's only a few hours over to the next town by the beach, anyway, so if they forget anything of importance you'll easily be able to find something to make up for it upon arrival. You leave them to it over the calamity of delighted squeals as the women shove your belongings into a bag, and as you stare up at the ceiling over your head for one last time before your departure, you can't help but wonder: what are you getting yourself into this summer?

Four hours and twenty minutes in the backseat of Ningning's luxury SUV.

It's not the worst way to get somewhere, but the additional hour of travel time most certainly could have been shaved off if any of the people in the car capable enough of navigating a GPS application.

Instead, the time there offers you far too much ability to live with your own thoughts about whether or not you're in the right headspace to truly be making this trip. Granted, it's a little bit too late for that now on account of not being able to back out should you even want to — rather, you can't help but wonder if you're already regretful of having allowed yourself to be dragged along for such a thing.

Every ten minutes or so you check your phone for a message, not that you're keeping track or anything.

The concern is alleviated for a time upon finally reaching the summer beach house, at least. From the outside it's nothing fancy; perhaps appearing as nothing more than a typical, large family home at a glance — but putting together the knowledge of it being just walking distance from the sandy coast out back and the large count of at least six bedrooms inside — you know it to be far beyond just the way that it may present. Expected, of Ningning and her affluent family, and at the very least you're thankful in knowing that you'll have a bedroom for yourself that most likely has a lock on the door should you wish to take some time away from the girls at hand.

You feel somewhat guilty in thinking that, though: friends that you've known since the beginnings of high school and now well into the tail end of higher educational years, people who have been with you through thick and thin and through all of your poor decisions, messy break ups, and rash meltdowns. For whatever reason, this one feels different. The desire to be away and alone with nothing more than your feelings of sorrow, and sometimes you find yourself even lamenting the fact that you have to acknowledge anyone or anything outside of that.

It's good to feel your feelings, this much you know. It's probably better to not allow them to consume you, however uncomfortable it is, though.

Blonde hair swishing through the air as she twirls with keys jingling in hand, Ningning turns with a wide smile to the rest of you as she pushes the front door open and subsequently removes herself from the doorway to allow you all to go before her. "Home sweet home!"

Upon entering the premises, you can't help but think that 'sweet' may be an understatement: two stories and ceilings higher than you can really even fathom with more window paning serving as a perimeter than proper walling — it's most definitely a luxury home, and one that you couldn't really fathom ever owning for yourself, or even really being able to afford renting for a getaway such as this without the additional help of a well-off pal.

It's beautiful, and it makes you realize just how lucky you are to have friends willing to drag you out of your misery to force you to come along and experience it with them.

"Bedrooms are upstairs except for the largest one, which I'll be staying in on account of familial ties," the girl proudly explains as you all enter and set your bags down in the living room area. "Kitchen is to the left, as is another, smaller living area, pool, deck, and then obviously you guys can figure out how to get to the beach."

It goes without saying, because even though the sun is out upon your arrival, you can't imagine not being able to see the crashing of waves even in the nighttime from where you stand now. Looking out towards the coast, it makes your heart swell with promise and thankfulness once over.

You gotta give it to them, they might have been right.

Still, you've checked your phone twice since you've arrived.

"Should we freshen up then have dinner?" Karina asks suddenly and with evident excitement in her voice. You all nod.

"Dinner and a movie in on the first night," Winter adds, grabbing her bags once again. "But after that I expect nothing but trouble until we have to go back home."

Somehow, you don't doubt that to be the outcome, either.

Day two is simple, and much to Winter's displeasure. You, however, are a bit thankful for it on account of your inability to truly settle in. It helps after having gone to the bar just down the way and having a few drinks — that always does the trick in getting you to dreamland, but the aid of alcoholic beverages isn't one that you wish to rely on as a crutch for sleeping during your two week stay and without another plan of action, you think it best to take it easy and lie a little low for what may be the remainder of the trip for you.

When day three rolls around and Karina excitedly throws out the option of the enormous, landmark of a waterpark that the city is known for — everyone is beyond elated at the suggestion, even you.

Some sun and a little outdoors could probably do you good, and on top of that, you'll be far too exhausted from a day out not to get a good nights rest by the time your body meets the comfort of your bed.

With swimsuits on and towels in hand as the five of you enter the gates of the park, you realize that you had overlooked how busy it would be — and by quite a wide margin.

Crowds not really your thing and especially not during some of the hottest days of summer, you bite back any possible complaints you could have and instead focus on the positives: you and your friends are looking fine as hell, there's a comfortable breeze that you couldn't be happier to feel right about now, and your phone is tucked away inside of a locker — far from your sight until the day is over.

You're hopeful for any thoughts of him being just as tucked away as a result, too.

In the meantime and barely out of sight long enough for you to even notice, Giselle pops back up to your side with a bright blue slushie in one hand. "What should we do first?"

"Where did you even get that?" You can't help but question.

Turning and pointing, Giselle brings your line of vision over to a shirtless man standing at a small kiosk only a few feet away. "Hot guy selling them."

"We should definitely see if there's any more of those around here," Karina adds upon looking, and as a result, you cock your head somewhat confused. "Slushies?"

"Hot guys," she confirms sternly.

The thing about post-break up heartbreak is that often times the blinders to other people some times turn themselves on without your knowing it.

That is to say that even though you're not actively thinking about Jaehyun, and there are extremely attractive men here, you can't say that you're all that interested in the fact.

Standing back, you find joy at least in watching your friends enjoy themselves as they flirt with strange guys and playfully pat their arms and shoulders — laughing at jokes that aren't funny but for this, we can pretend — you know it all too well, and you suppose that from an outsiders point of view, it certainly is amusing, and given how long the line is up to this slide, you're thankful for the entertainment.

Nearing thirty minutes in line for one attraction in the hot, beating down summer sun is far from your idea of a good time, but you can see the end soon approaching, and while you cannot imagine that the ride down be worthy of this sort of gathering of people, the faster you can get up there, on the ride, and down, the better.

With only a small family of four ahead of your group now, you and the girls stand just near the very top of the water slide. Sweat pooling in all sorts of places that you'd really rather it not on account of the heat, you find yourself nearing the end of your willingness to enjoy this place, and more than that, you're happy that this is one of those slides that holds numerous people at once so that no one has to wait to get down from what you might consider now to be the highest mountain in the pits of Hell.

The family goes along their way, and with Karina ahead of you and the other behind you, the girl leans back to whisper towards you through the loud shouts of happy children surrounding you.

"Oh, girl—"

Granted, you don't know what this means as you continue with the last couple of steps to the top. Not until you get up there and your eyes land on precisely what it is that you know garnered that type of reaction from her.

Standing just beside the opening of the slide and preparing an inflatable tube for your party of pals, he doesn't take notice of you and yours before your lot does of him, and for that you're somewhat thankful considering the way that your eyes rake over the toned, tanned, display of arms and a bleached-blonde undercut of hair with the sides and back all too freshly shaven, at that.

With a loose tank top covering his torso, you can't help but feel a bit disappointed in the fact. A modest man working at the waterpark, you think, and it brings a bit of a grin to your lips despite the joke only being known to you.

In that moment and with it now being your turn to ride, he looks up and makes eye contact with you, in particular — a wide smile of teeth that's matched by an equally pleasant eye smile, as well — punctuated by a small freckle just at the lower corner of his right eye.

"First time riding?"

"What?"

You realize as soon as the affronted response leaves your lips that it is no ones fault but your own that you've responded to such a normal question in this way. Perhaps entirely on account of your eye-fucking the cute lifeguard before he even manages to get a word in edgewise, you watch him cock his head to the side inquisitively at your answer before snorting out a bit of a chuckle through his nose and continuing on as if you're not a complete fucking freak in public.

"Is it your first time? On this ride?"

"Oh," you answer back as normally as you can possibly muster up. "Uh, yeah, first time."

"Cool," he says, holding the raft still while your friends climb on and get into position beside you. "Hold onto the railing, don't let go, don't stick your hands out and try to touch anything along the way."

With a knowing grin, Karina leans forward to grab his attention as he pulls you and your girls towards the opening of the slide. "What happens if I lose a finger? Are you going to come down there and rescue me?"

It's flirtatious, although you can't help but think the logistics of it could potentially use some work.

But with little more than a shake of his head and a smile, the cute blonde answers the inquiry in the best way you think him to know how.

"I work at a waterpark, don't think you want me sewing anything on you back together. Have fun!"

And with that, the hot lifeguard disappears into the dark, black abyss of the waterslide.

When the day comes to a close and simultaneously, the park itself, with gentle sunburns gracing you and your friends skin and with slushies in hand, the five of you finally retrieve your belongings from the lockers near the entrance.

You check the screen of your phone to find little more than a text from your mother, asking how you're doing and if you're having a good time.

Looking forward to the day in which not finding a message from your ex won't make your throat feel like swallowed needles, as well.

"I see everyone made it out with all of their appendages."

The voice and joke are familiar in a sort of way that you can't seem to place just yet, but upon raising your sights from the depressing display at hand and towards the person in which the words have come from, it all comes rushing back to you at lightning speed. Eyes wide and taken quite aways aback, you just about drop your phone and as a result of scrambling to not let it meet the wet concrete of the floor below, nearly make a mess of the icy, blue beverage in hand, as well.

Thankfully, neither disastrous outcome make themselves to be — but still, your inability to be even a little bit normal in front of a man you've known for all of two minutes is getting a little out of hand, at this point.

Still in the same white, cut up t-shirt from back at the slides, the two of you make eye contact for a moment before you realize that you should probably actually say something to him in response.

"Yeah, well," you start with a nod back behind him and towards where Karina stands. "She was the one with intent to remove fingers, not me."

Pausing to glance back over his shoulder and acknowledge the other woman, he gives her a nod before turning his attention back and towards you.

"Good, because I really mean it when I say I can't sew for shit."

You can't help but chuckle at the words. "Would be quite a repertoire of skills under your belt if that were to be the case."

"Indeed. You live around here or on vacation?"

Sly, you think to yourself. Granted, you don't hate the attention especially since he seems keen on directing it to you, in particular. It does beg the question, however, of how much of a point is there to any of this, really? A summer fling can be fun, sure, although not exactly your usual speed of doing things — and especially not off of the back of some of the worst heartbreak you've ever experienced — you look the man in front of you over just one more time before parting dry, chapped lips to respond to him in some form or another.

"Vacation," you grant him, albeit slowly, as if anticipating something suspicious in his questioning. "Why?"

It's sort of a stupid question, you know.

Perching a well-defined arm up against the metal locker next to the both of you, he leans into it and maintains eye contact with you before answering as much. "We should do something while you're in town."

Reeling at how forward he is, your answer comes out a bit more stuttered than you would have liked to begin with. "I—I'm not sure there's much point in tha—"

But regardless, Karina is there to interject, anyway.

Nudging herself into the scene and with her own phone in hand, the woman stands between you and him to do something that you stand a bit half and half on: it's somewhat annoying, and a bit out of bounds especially as friendships go to be giving out your number to men that you've only barely just met...however...

He is so fine, and a bit charming, to boot.

"Here's her number," you hear your friend say as she stands with her back towards you. The whole thing takes place in a matter of seconds, and as he slides his phone back into his pocket, Karina makes haste in whisking herself back out of the scene, but not before flashing you a knowing, mischievous smile.

"Trouble that one is, huh?" He says, thumbing back over his shoulder as she disappears into the rest of your friend group.

"You have no idea," you sigh in response, and now resigned to the fact that this is definitely going to be some kind of thing, you figure it best to move along towards the next most obvious course of action. Whatever this is going to be, after all. "So, what's your name?"

Corners of his mouth pulling into an all too pleasant curl, you hate how much it sort of makes you melt at the sight of it. An unfortunate side effect of much too attractive and seemingly also kinda cool guys, you figure.

"Jeno," he says, as if delighted by the fact that you would ever even ask. "Lee Jeno."

Over the next handful of days — through a shocking amount of quiet evenings spent at home around take-out boxes and cheap wine with the girls — texts from the cute blonde at the waterpark that you now know to be named Jeno come far more frequently than you realize you had anticipated.

For one, he knows that you don't live around here so you can't imagine there to be much of a reason for him to be pursuing you for much more than a fun romp in the sheets, only to then never speak to you ever again. It's not an arrangement you're all that opposed to under normal circumstances, though you can't help but consider that where you are mentally and emotionally right about now is far from normal circumstances.

And two, he hasn't really laid on the same sort of aggressive, sexual interest that you may have expected from a guy looking for that sort of thing.

In fact, talking to Jeno is just pretty...casual.

Seemingly making it a point to text you late into the night and right before bed (incredible timing every time, you note), you chuckle every time thinking that this time to be the one where he comes on strong. After all, most men only text women that they're interested in this late at night for one thing and one thing only, so every time as the chime of your phone receiving a message comes through, you arm yourself with the armor of anticipating something heinous to some degree — you can only hope that it's not a dick pic, at least.

Phone in hand, lights off and snuggling into the plush, comfortable sheets of your bedding, you unlock your phone and navigate to your messaging application to see just what it is that lies in wait for you this evening.

Jeno [01:23]: good morning, or night, i never know how to announce myself at this time of the day

It's sort of annoying the way you can't help but smile, but you're thankful enough for the fact that he is unable to see the effect he already has on you in such a way.

In the wake of being told that you're not wanted, not desired — sometimes it's nice to have a reminder that not everyone feels that way.

You have no intention of engaging in anything more than basic flirtation with this man, but hey, that can be enough.

You [01:24]: how do you always know exactly when i'm settling in for bed?

Typing bubble popping up immediately after sending your message, you can't help but wonder just how eager this guy really is to be the receiver of your full attention.

Jeno [01:24]: i have karina on look out so she can let me know precisely the right time to hit you up

You [01:24]: creepy, but i respect your willingness to tell me, at least

Jeno [01:25]: well, you know what they say, honesty is the best policy. what are you guys doing tomorrow night?

Taking a moment to mull over the question before you begin typing your reply, you answer him easily, but mostly out of curiosity in why it is that he's asking.

You [01:26]: i don't think we have anything planned? you can ask karina ;p

Jeno [01:26]: very funny, are you going to hold that terrible joke over my head forever? anyway, my friend is having a party at his place, parents out of town for a week, you guys should come by.

You're none too proud of the way your heart beats just that much harder for a split second in time at the coming through of the invitation. Still, play it cool.

You [01:27]: i'll ask the girls tomorrow if we have anything going on and i'll get back to you. are any of your friends cute?

You're not sure you've ever seen the typing bubble pop up that quickly in your life after sending that message.

Jeno [01:27]: really man? already trying to scope out my friend group to see if you can get an upgrade? :(

You [01:28]: i have friends...they will want to know...it will likely be a huge deciding factor in whether or not we show up at all so think carefully lol

Jeno [01:28]: fine! yeah i guess some of them are handsome, not quite as handsome as me but you know what can you do? hehe

Rolling your eyes but with grin still plastered across your lips, you begin typing your response back to him.

You [01:28]: i'll pass the message along then

Jeno [01:29]: cool. get some sleep then, you really shouldn't be texting strange men so late at night anyway, who knows what could happen hehehe goodnight, rest well

Part of you wants to rebuke the claim despite very much having already considered it for yourself, but in an effort to not appear too interested and too eager, you simply leave the conversation alone and with that as the last message sent for the evening.

Butterflies in your stomach and the promise of who-knows-what at this party tomorrow leaves sleep hard to come by, but you figure it's at least a little worth it if it means checking your phone for text messages from a different man whose name starts with a 'J' for once.

Of course, you're none too surprised once you find yourself at said house party.

A bit more rambunctious than what you'd typically like to find yourself at back home — with slews of college-aged people running, yelling, dancing and talking amongst themselves as well as throughout the entire premises of the property both in and outside — as you and your friends make your way inside to the enormous stacking of alcohol bottles and disposable plastic cups, it's one particularly bright head of blonde hair that catches the corner of your eye as he makes his way across the room and towards you with a smile.

Nudging your arm gently with his elbow, as if to say 'I told you so' about your being there at all, Jeno grins even wider once your eyes meet. "So? What do you think?"

Looking around briefly, you glance back towards him with suspicion plastered across your face.

"I'm starting to think you might be too young for me."

Jeno reels at the suggestion with eyes wide and full of shock. "Why? Adults can party. You don't party?"

"I do, just not typically messy frat house parties...at least, not anymore."

Knitting his eyebrows together and slanting his grin, Jeno cocks his head sideways to look at you with something of a twinge of judgment. "It's a beach town, and a popular destination for summer breakers obviously, what do you expect? Maybe try winter break, next time."

Nudging you again to punctuate the thought playfully, you look back towards Giselle who quickly pushes an alcoholic concoction of you'll-never-know into your hand with a grin before her and the others begin to disappear into the crowd.

"Wait! Where are you guys going?"

"You have your date, we're going to find ours," Winter answers back with a casual flip of her hair. Then, her attention pulls to the man standing just beside you. "What was his name again?"

"Jaemin."

"Whatever," she says quickly and as if nothing he could have possibly responded with would have made any sort of a difference either way. "We'll be around, we all have our phones. If you need someone, you know how to get us."

Panic subtly settling in at the thought of being left alone with this guy that you barely know at all, it's not that you feel unsafe with him, or that you can't trust his intentions — no, it's far from anything so insidious that has your nerves firing and the anxiety bubbling up in your gut.

What if it's awkward?

"Ta-ta!" Ningning chimes as the four of them walk away, and it's in that moment that you realize you are deep, deep into the lions den, now.

In a room full of busy people, you can't think of a time that you've ever felt quite so alone.

Then, you feel your phone vibrate. A message from Karina.

Kari [20:42]: let the hot guy from the waterpark make it all better :p you know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else

Turning your phone far out of sight of Jeno upon reading the message, another comes through before you have the chance to begin typing any kind of reply to her.

Kari [20:42]: or bent over by someone else, or on top of someone else? well you can fill me in on the details when he's done filling

You don't bother reading the rest of the message as you quickly lock your phone and shuffle it back into your pocket, but you're thankful enough when your attention comes back to Jeno that in the meantime he has struck up conversation with another guy just beside him. It gives you a moment to look him over for the first time, too: messily slicked back blonde hair and black button down shirt that's equally messily tucked into far too nicely fitting black jeans with a carefully placed aesthetic rip at one of the knees.

He looks good, and you're glad you didn't over or underdress in your fitted jeans and simple blouse, also.

"This is my friend, Renjun, he's the home owner...well, sort of," Jeno starts once he realizes you're finished with the nonsense going on within your cellular device. "He's one of the handsome ones we touched on briefly last night."

Introducing yourself in kind, you shake hands with the new acquaintance as he laughs at the concept of being discussed. "Thanks, happy to know I made the cut, I guess. What are you doing talking to this fuckin' guy, anyway?"

Jeno's eyes widen at the sudden attack. "Hey! I just complimented you, come on!"

Not helping the laugh that erupts from their jest, you take a sip of your horrendous drink before responding. "It's been a little out of my hands from the get-go. I'm just sort of along for the ride, he keeps texting me every night, what am I supposed to do?"

"Ah, yeah, I've heard that about this one before," Renjun nods and sighs, with Jeno spiraling into disaster beside the both of you all the while. "Can't let him start texting, he'll never quit. I hate to tell you, but you're basically married, now. He's a level five clinger."

"I am not a level five clinger!"

"That's unfortunate," you casually respond, carrying on the conversation with Renjun as if Jeno not even standing there at all. "Hopefully he doesn't have any weird quirks that are hard to live with, then."

Renjun shakes his head as he takes a sip from his own cup. "Nah, he's a pretty simple guy, all things considered, I think you'll have a pretty easy time with this one."

"Well that's comforting, at least."

"Hello!" Jeno finally interjects with success, stalling the ongoing banter and bringing both of your attention back to him. "I'm literally right here!"

Smiling then, Renjun brings a heavy hand up and to the back of Jeno's shoulder before turning on his heel and beginning his exit in the wake of destruction. "Have fun, call me if you need anything."

With a lull in the ongoing messiness that so far is this evening as it stands, you and Jeno stand calmly before one another for a few moments with no words spoken; that is, of course, until his lips part and he gently offers up an idea of his own.

"Want to go some place quieter so we can talk?"

There's certainly a distinct level of unease that courses through your bones with every step you take towards the second level of the home. Passing by people already paired off for the evening and making out on the steps for what feels like forever — you can't help but wonder if this is some kind of preliminary entry into what he thinks is going to be on the agenda for the evening. Yes, you had already considered this much, and yes, you're aware of precisely the types of things that go on at parties such as this, but it doesn't mean that just because you're here and to see a guy, at that, that you're resigning yourself to partaking in any such festivities.

Jeno leads the way, and once the two of you make it up to the dimly lit hallway lined with a handful of doors — some open, some closed, and a handful of people leaned against the walls engaging in their own, private activities — it's as he continues towards one of the open doors of what you could only presume to be a bedroom that your heart sinks into your stomach and you dig your heels into the ground.

"I don't—" Is all you can manage out, because it's awkward and you don't really want to make an ordeal out of this either. You don't know this man, and especially not well enough to know how he'll take to being denied the thing that he seems to be under the impression that he will be obtaining tonight. As a result, you lay out the 'soft no,' in hopes that it will be enough to get the point across.

Head turning and glancing back at you upon hearing the words, you're a little taken aback by his response: less because of any of the potential, aforementioned reasons, but rather...because he appears confused.

Did he really think he had it in the bag that easily? Just because you showed up tonight?

The thought is enough to raise a level of irritation in you that has you feeling comfortable enough in asserting yourself just that much more. "I don't want to—I'm not going to—"

It still takes a second, but when he finally realizes, it seems to hit him like a semi-truck.

"O—Oh, no! No, no! That's not...I wasn't...I didn't think—"

Hands up in front of his chest as if in full retreat just on account of the mere implication of it, you're a little charmed by the tinge of blush that takes across his cheeks and especially highlights his ears.

But more than that, you believe him in his earnest.

"I just thought because it's quieter up here, no music and less people...I didn't think anything was going to—we can keep the door open! Or go back downstairs, anything is fine by me."

You're charmed, just a bit. You hate to admit it to yourself, and you certainly aren't going to admit it to this man, but you are.

Offering him a gentle smile, you nod back towards the direction in which he had been heading just prior. "It's fine, we can go—" you say, stepping forward again with insistence that Jeno do the same, and as the two of you meet side by side once more, you're careful to add one more addition, just for clarity sake.

"—But keep the door open."

A couple of days later and once the banging drum of headaches and hangovers have worn off, with the friend groups now thoroughly enough enmeshed on account of Renjun's family home and an absolutely unfathomable amount of adult beverages, the next most obvious plan of action is set into motion.

Dinner and bowling.

One thing about this town that you've come to realize is that there is little to do — and especially during the summer time — that doesn't directly involve alcohol and partying. With most restaurants and shops closed until the middle of August at least, the guys are happy enough to inform that there is still one mainstay left that doesn't involve having a terrible time the next morning.

The dinner seating is something that you can't help but take note of: two, long tables pushed together by the wait staff to accommodate such a large party of patrons, with Jeno sat right across the table from you, you notice the way that certain budding couples seem similarly paired off. It's sort of cute, in a way, but you choose not to pay it much mind. Sure, chats with the handsome blonde just along the way serve as a pleasant way to pass the time, and you'd be lying to yourself (and doing a terrible job of it, at that) if you tried to say that you hadn't at least briefly considered where else this could go just for a fun little before the vacation were to come to an end.

Just as the thought comes to its conclusion in your mind, your eyes come up and meet Jeno's over the brim of his beer glass.

That charming-ass eye smile.

Slowly, he brings the glass down while maintaining eye contact, his hand disappears under the table, and you watch his eyes fall to whatever it is that he's doing under there.

Your questions are answered promptly, however, by the vibration of your phone in your jacket pocket.

Jeno [18:12]: interesting seating arrangements we've got here

You try to bite back your smile. Easier said than done, and dealing with his texting antics much simpler when from the comfort of your own bedroom.

Still, you play along and begin typing our your response.

You [18:12]: almost like they're hinting at something

Jeno [18:12]: i'm not too good at signals, need someone to spell it out for me hehe

Glancing back up from your phone, you catch his eyes as he does the same with a knowing grin plastered across his lips.

You [18:13]: you'd have to ask them, i don't know anything about it :p

Jeno [18:13]: okay will do, but speaking of spelling it out...you look amazing tonight

Stilling in your seat at the sudden forwardness of the message, a typing bubble pops up again just as quickly as the previous message is received.

Jeno [18:13]: like really...you looked amazing the other night at the party too. do you always look amazing or is it just when you happen to be seeing me?

Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat just slightly before reaching forward and taking the glass placed in front of you into hand in preparation for a much needed sip of water. You ignore him purposefully, but you can feel the sharp gaze of the man in question as he monitors your every move.

Jeno [18:14]: don't think i didn't notice the way you were looking at me the day we met :0

Unfortunate, but you had been a bit obvious, largely on account of not having expected being faced with seeing this man ever again. You'll have to reel it in better next time.

You glance up again, this time with intention of meeting his eyes — from across the table, Jeno sits with one corner of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, as if knowing precisely what it is that he's doing. Not surprising, of course, he's not coming onto you now on accident — but he's never been this forward and the only thing you can really chalk it up to now is the dwindling time left on yours and the girls remaining vacation time.

As they say, 'shit or get off the pot.'

But are you interested? Frankly, you're not really sure.

Handsome? Without a doubt. Nice? Sure, seemingly so. Trustworthy? Probably enough to enjoy a night together.

However, you can't help but remain starkly aware of the still gaping whole in your heart where Jaehyun not so long ago resided.

Looking over his features again, Jeno takes another sip of his drink: messy, blonde hair, beautiful eyes, the most charming smile and all accented by that devastatingly stunning mole seated just on his cheek bone.

Yeah, maybe you are, because when you take him in as he sits before you now, just like this, enjoying each and every physically enamoring aspect of a man all the more infatuated with you, as well — you can't help but wonder...

God, how nice is your dick, then?

And just like that, is if everyone in the world having a window of insight into your mind, your phone vibrates again. Naturally, your first thought being another text from Jeno as your eyes remain glued to him, but with every round of vibration that sends through the device it quickly dawns on you that not only has he not dipped his vision back down from you to fire off another round of flirtation, but rather that the disturbance coming through is not a text message at all.

It's a phone call.

Looking down, the number isn't one that you recognize although the location code is. Eyebrows furrowing in thought and vague concern as the screen continues to illuminate in your hand, you feel the gentle tap of a foot under the table and from quite evidently — right in front of you.

Eyes now upwards again, you meet Jeno's concerned ones, but you don't have much time to quell whatever worry he may have before you're up, out of your seat, and heading outside to take the call.

Your first thought is one that sends anxiety through every nerve under your skin: family or friends in emergency, god forbid something terrible having happened, but once you reach the parking lot and are met with the cool breeze of the coast just down the way — when you answer the phone, you come to find yourself no more quelled of fears upon hearing the voice on the other end.

"Hey," the voice says, low and seemingly already defeated. "Sorry, I know you're out of town, I just wanted to talk to you."

Heart beating nearly straight through your chest and hands shaking as you strain to hold your phone to your ear, you stand in silence as your mind races with the how's and why's of what this is and could mean.

After having not received a reply for so long that you don't even notice the amount of time passed, the man on the other end speaks again.

"Hello? Are you there? It's Jaehyun, sorry, I changed numbers."

"Uh, y—yeah, I know who it is, sorry, I'm just—" you pause again to think through your words carefully, as well as garnering yourself more time in an attempt to steady the quake in your voice. "—I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

Chuckling lightly, he carries on, and just before he does you catch a glimpse of the blonde previously seated across from you at the table as he carefully exits the establishment to check on your whereabouts.

"Yeah, I know. Is it a bad time? I think you might agree that we left off on the wrong foot."

Swallowing down the lump in your throat as you quietly acknowledge Jeno's presence, you're not entirely sure where to go from here. The way that your heart thumps strongly at hearing Jaehyun's voice again is one that's hard to ignore, but the way that he broke up with you and only now is contacting you again lies equally as much on your mind.

He doesn't deserve a conversation, and especially not a second chance, but it doesn't change the fact that deep down you want to grant him both.

For better or for worse, however, now isn't a good time.

"I'm out with the girls right now but I can call you tomorrow night, when there's less going on. You know how they are, always have me up to something."

"Sure, you have the number, call me any time," he says with the most calm and nearly adoring of tones. "I miss you, have fun."

"Th—thanks," you answer slowly, and with that, the call ends.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot with Jeno only a few feet away in silence, you suppose that it's probably written all over you the sort of affect that something like this has on you. Despondent and borderline broken after having only so much as heard a few simple words from a man who despite all of his poor treatment of you still holds such a strong place in your heart...

There's no other word for it, simply put, it's pain — and soul-crushingly so.

You can hear he gravel under Jeno's shoes as he slowly approaches you, and there's a small part of you that wishes he just doesn't. Go back inside, stop pretending to care about this or us beyond just wanting a quick fuck, quit playing the nice guy.

But you know you're projecting, and you bite back the venom of your thoughts so that they don't manifest into underserved words.

"You okay?" He sheepishly asks and with concern weighing heavily on his features. You force a half-assed smile in response.

"My ex-boyfriend called," you huff out a laugh. "Broke up with me over text a bit ago, now he wants to talk. Said he misses me."

"And you're gonna tell him to go fuck himself, right?" Jeno says, and much to your surprise. Not used to such a strong response from him in regards to, well, much of anything.

Shrugging, you let out a defeated sigh. "Maybe? No? Probably not."

Silence. Then you glance back towards him.

"I love him."

"Yeah, of course you do, it's fresh," he says delicately, closing the distance between the two of you to take your wrist into one of his hands and carefully usher you back inside. "But that doesn't mean he's deserving of it."

"I know."

A small squeeze of your wrist, as if just to let you know that he's there despite your already being well aware, and looking up towards him as the two of you re-enter the building, Jeno smiles at you widely with teeth and eyes on full display in a way that sort of reminds you to just live in the moment — the here and the now — and to worry about that, whatever that is, later.

"I'm just a guy, I get it," he starts with his face leaned into the side of your head to whisper the words directly into your ear. "But sometimes accidents happen on purpose."

Turning to look at him and meeting so close to his face that it has you just about startled, you roll your eyes and snort at his attempt to bestow aged wisdom upon you in your time of need.

"That doesn't make any sense, is that your idea of giving advice?"

Slinging an arm up and around your shoulders to pull you in tighter against him, he once again brings his face to the side of your own. "Yeah, how'd I do?"

"Terrible."

"Hey, but you laughed, though."

As it turns out, there are perks to making friends with the guy who works at the waterpark.

That is, beyond his good-looks, pleasing disposition and the fact that he tends to be quite into you, when Jeno invites you and yours back to the waterpark for some free-entry fun, the five of you can't help but take him up on the offer.

Besides, it gives you just that much more reason to have your phone out of sight and subsequently out of mind.

Rather than the typical morning arrival, however, Jeno tells you to come later in the evening on account of things tending to be more quiet. This turns out to be the case and much to all of your delight as the crowds have long since thinned out and lines to rides are much shorter than your last foray at the place of amusement. Still, it's less time to do as much as you all probably would have liked, and as the closing hours quickly approach, you and the girls make your way back to the lockers to not only collect your belongings, but once again meet with the man who brought you all there to begin with.

You come to realize that you're quite fond of how he looks fresh off of a work shift, with tousled hair and a bit of a sun-kissed glow to his skin only amplified by the glisten of water and sunscreen — when Jeno approaches the group you find that while yes, you have seen this man now numerous times before so the way that he looks is of no surprise to you, something about him like this, like right now, is different.

And as usual, when it comes to Jeno, you're the only person in the room.

One strong arm up and against the metal just like the time previously meeting like this, he all but cages you in as he leans casually against it to speak to you. "I've got to stay a bit late to do some minor maintenance in the backend, want to stay with me and we can go out afterwards or do you have somewhere to be with your friends?"

It's a lovely offer, and the idea of seeing a waterpark long past closing is an enticing one just for the thrill of it, but you're not one to pass up on dinner with the girls that brought you here for an after hours slide ride.

"We were actually about to head out to dinner, text me when you're out though and maybe we all can—"

"No. Way!"

The shrill voice comes from Ningning this time, and a bit to your surprise as it's typically either Karina or Winter with something loud and boisterous to say. Regardless, the woman comes up quickly from behind Jeno with arms crossed fiercely as if personally slighted by your unwillingness to ditch her.

"Dinner at the lil' diner down the block can wait, when the hot lifeguard asks you to stay after closing, you stay after closing."

"Ningning..." you bemoan first, only to look up at Jeno who is far too busy feigning a lack of listening in to the situation playing out right in front of him.

"Stay," she insists again, slinging a t-shirt up and over her shoulder before slowly sauntering away as if having won the war that she, herself, started. "We'll see you later—"

And just before disappearing entirely with the other women, she turns back once more with just another thing to add.

"—If you come home tonight, that is."

Jeno's work in the the back where some of the machinery is kept is quick and for that you are thankful on account of it being mind-numbingly boring watching him do anything at all that he is meant to do there. The flex of the muscles in his arms and back growing bland far sooner than you might have anticipated, you're happy to hear only twenty or so minutes in that he's finished and the two of you can carry on with your tour of the premises now that there is no one else there but the both of you.

As you walk, he tells you fun stories of silly happenings since his three years of working there has begun: tales of lost belongings on slides and peoples swim bottoms being stolen by the waves of the pools that artificially craft them, the two of you laugh into the calm, night air as you circle back around to the large river that spans nearly the entire lot of the waterpark — calm and meant mostly for simply lounging about in the sun, Jeno sits at one of the small tables offered just at the side and motions for you to sit just beside him, as well.

Still in nothing more than your swimsuit and a towel, it feels oddly comfortable. In fact, despite your checking, you haven't caught the man eyeing you down at all — not that that leads you into a false sense of believing that he simply hasn't, because frankly, you know better than that.

But at least he's willing to reign it in in the event that you could see him in the act.

And on top of that, you've been stealing glances yourself, anyway.

"Things good?" He asks, and it feels so abrupt given the timing. You know what he's referring to with eyes honed in on any possible change of your expression, but you attempt to maintain composure whilst under the proverbial microscope of his view.

"Yeah," you sigh, leaning back into your chair casually. "Everything is good. Sort of not looking forward to leaving next week."

Jeno smiles at the words. "Yeah, this town is fun, but only on vacation. I think you'd find if you lived here all year around you'd miss it back where you're from."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Just gonna have to make sure you get the best this place has to offer then," he says with a groan as he brings himself back up and to his feet. Hand extended out towards you with an offering to help you stand, you stare at him blankly for a few moments before slowly taking it and allowing yourself to be hoisted upwards. "Shall we take a swim, then?"

"Are we allowed—"

The thought suddenly cut off by the sight of Jeno reaching down and pulling off his loose, white tank top shirt. And sure, it's loose enough that you've more or less caught a glimpse of everything under there already, but not like this, not on full display.

"No, absolutely not," he laughs as he chucks it into the chair he was only just sat in. "But no one checks the cameras anyway and they already know I'm here after hours as it is so it's not going to ring any alarm bells that there's movement on site. Is that a yes?"

You pause. You need the moment to think this through, not that you even really want to. Deep down, you sort of know what this means, at least to the most basic extent, and sure — you can decline anything at any time and you're pretty certain he'll take it in stride — but still, saying yes to this is effectively saying yes to something.

"Yeah, let's take a swim."

The water feels colder now without the sun beating down on it but you come to find that the trade off is the way that the overhead lights as well as the submerged ones illuminate the water in such a beautiful way that everything glitters all around you. Following Jeno's lead as you both wade through and into one of the man-made rock sculpture caves that under typical servicing hours, lend much needed reprieve from the sunlight — now instead you feel a bit something like a character in a fantasy film: a mermaid coming back to her home as the wetness of the ocean glistens off of the barely lit walls of the faux-rock now surrounding you in hideaway.

Realistically, the scene is nothing special, but right now and with present company, your feeling of being locked away and hidden from any potential prying eyes feels especially heavy knowing precisely the thoughts that have weighed on both of your minds ever since they very first meeting here.

As silence falls between the two of you and you comfortably place yourself with your back against the smooth offering of rocks, you use it as a moment to take in the sight of him while he's not paying attention: shirtless and with flesh on full display, Jeno brings a hand up and out of the water to push his hair back and out of his face before catching hint of the fact that he has an audience, after all.

Then, he slowly closes the distance between the two of you, and with the tiniest grin of understanding perking at the corners of his lips, you suppose that there's a part of you that sort of always resigned yourself to this.

And really, what's summer vacation if not for having a summer fling?

One hand planted against the firm offering of rock on either side of you, caged in but feeling neither scared nor small on account of it, Jeno brings himself close enough to you that you have little more option that to struggle with your footing at the bottom of the pool and allow him the gentle insistence of settling between your legs.

Slowly, he dips his head down and towards you, but you pause the moment to speak in a whisper.

"You brought me here to do this, didn't you?"

To that, he only smiles again before continuing with the movement. "You came knowing that."

A gentle first kiss, perhaps much more so than you would have anticipated; rather than coming in hot and heavy from the start, the true feeling of being with and near him instead comes from the way his chest presses you tightly into place as his mouth slots firmly against your own. It's a little breathtaking, and somewhat overwhelming having been caged in like this by him, but with every forward movement of his lips and tongue against your own you can't help but feel as though the breath being pulled straight from your lungs, and with intent, at that.

The first, testing grind of his hips against you has you gasping into his mouth, and the sinister curl of his lips tells you that he couldn't be more pleased by the reaction.

One, strong hand dropping down from the rocks behind you and instead holding firm at your thigh from the underside, Jeno holds your leg up and out just enough to maintain the open space so that he has precisely the access that he desires like this, and with another slow, deliberate grind of what you know to be the solid length of himself beneath much too thin swim trunks, you can't help the way that your head lolls backwards and just about slaps into the solid structure behind you.

Pulling from your mouth as if to allow you the ability to breath, warm lips trail down your jaw line and back around to your ear, but rather than speaking anything in particular, the man simply allows you to listen to the quiet moans and exhales that drop from his lips as a result of the friction forming between the both of your bodies.

With every simulated drive of himself into you comes a breathy, needy sound fallen from his mouth. On top of that, with just the right angle, paired with just the right amount of speed and force behind his hips...

Surely you won't cum like this?

But with how heavenly he sounds against your ear and the tensing in your thighs and abdomen, you pull your bottom lip up between your teeth hard with eyes clenched shut as if not wanting to make it so evident just the effect he's having on you like this. Squirming within his grasp, and your orgasm feeling just on the cusp but ever so slightly out of your hands, you huff out with frustration and throw all caution to the wind in a desperate whirlwind of pleading events.

"Please, God, I want you," you whine against his ear. "Want to feel you."

It's a terrible idea and you know that, for a plethora of reasons. However, you're horny and on the edge of cumming and cannot possibly be concerned with any of them. You've been good enough up until now pretending to have little to no interest in his cock at all, but enough is enough, especially as it glides against you rock hard and barely clothed between your bodies.

Jeno, for better or for worse, has other plans.

"Want that too," he whispers against your ear, the hot puffs of his breath washing over the otherwise warm, wet smooth of your skin. Unfortunately, instead of freeing himself from the very same confines that plague you, he merely picks up the pace of his hips against yours.

As well as aiding with a slight shift of the angle at which he grinds against you.

Turns out, that'll do the trick.

Orgasm fast approaching now as he repeatedly presses his hips against the apex of your thighs, he continues with the original train of thought. "You ever been fucked in a body of water like this? Doesn't make for great lubrication, unfortunately—"

You can't be bothered to pay all that much attention to the science lesson, and with your hands gripping into his back and biceps as he continues hard and fast against you, you feel the distinct feeling of his teeth dragging down ever so slightly against the column of your neck in such a way that it has your head spinning and toes curling with how close to the edge you are like this.

Not for long, though, as he finishes the thought entirely. "—Want that glide to be so fucking smooth."

Frankly, you're not used to hearing him curse all that much, so when he does it's especially meaningful, so when he shoots down your begging for him to fuck you instead because he has far more delightful plans for you in the future and under more optimal circumstances, you couldn't bite back the shriek if you had tried as your orgasm tears through you with so much force that you swear you may crack a tooth with how tightly your teeth are clenched through it.

And like a good boy, Jeno 'fucks' you through it as every shockwave of release jolts through your body and your clit begs to be untouched. Releasing the grip on you, he pulls his face back around to look you in the eyes with an all-too-proud grin plastered across his lips — though, you don't get much of a chance to fight him on it as those very same ones quickly meet yours just as adoringly as the first time.

When he pulls back, he's still smiling — odd behavior for the un-orgasmed half of the equation, you think, but before speaking, the man brings a hand up to your forehead to delicately wipe away a handful of stray hairs that found their way there in all of the debauchery.

Eyes meeting, you can tell he has something to say, and that you're probably not going to like it.

"You wanted me to fuck you, and raw at that."

"Oh come on!" You groan in playful embarrassment, pushing him away from you with desperate splashes of water left in your wake as you escape. Jeno only laughs as he trails behind lazily.

"You did," he reaffirms with a teasing chuckle. "You so did."

The following days come to pass far quicker than you had anticipated, you're soon to find.

With every day, every moment now seemingly enmeshed between the groups of friends, time with Jeno is more common than time away — no one hears about the goings on at the waterpark, at least, not on your end (and you have reason to believe that he hasn't said anything either on account of the fact that Jaemin would never shut up about it if he had) — but there's evidence enough in the distinct change of something between the two of you as the brief, casual brushing of hands slowly transforms into open and public slotting together of fingers during movie nights and not-so-concealed presses of kisses to the temple of your head at any time that Jeno seems to be able to close the distance between your bodies.

It's nice, and you can admit as much to yourself without fear or worry. The problem lies in the fact that therein resides so much more than it simply being nice now, and in fact, you're somehow managed to stumble yourself precisely in the line of fire of what it is you had sort of been hoping to avoid this entire time.

Granted, it's not necessarily worth a conversation on account of logistics and the more or less of what this is, but still, even with it only having been two weeks since you've met this guy, he reads a bit like an open book, and if there's one thing you're fairly certain you have down about him and the way his mind works, it's that he wants to have that talk, regardless of the realistic outcome.

Really, it's the least you can do on account of the whirlwind, summer romance you've happily found yourself wound up in, in spite of everything.

On the last night before you and yours leave to go back into the city, the blowout house party is at home; Ningning's summer house. An excellent decision on account of the fact that the five of you can pack up early the day before and simply wake up to leave the next day with little more to worry about than some final touches and your hangovers as a result.

Though, leaving the next day is far from what you currently wish to be attending much thought to.

With folding chairs strewn about around some of the tables in the back yard, as well as the barbecue that's fired up and attended to by Renjun, Mark and Giselle; with a red, plastic cup in hand as you sit facing out towards the crashing waves of the beach, you can't help but allow your gaze to fall to the side and onto the object of your desire that was never really supposed to end up as much more than simply the hot guy that worked at the waterpark.

Instead, you watch him as he engages in a conversation with Winter — a playful argument about which dog breeds are cutest — and it's times like this that you make a conscious effort to take mental snapshots of this moment, right here, right now. Making sure that you never forget this feeling, never forget what it was like to live in this time with the guy who sports such quintessential summer hair and reminds you of what it feels like to feel young once more, and forever.

Eyes curved into perfect, crescent shapes and a matching perfect smile as he laughs along to whatever it is that your friend is saying, suppose he must feel the heavy weight of eyes upon him as he shifts to grant you his attention once more.

There's a few seconds of silence, but you watch the way his face melts from one of joyous laughter to something that's more akin to fond adoration.

"Want to go talk?"

Jeno doesn't look all that surprised when you say the words, and instead offers you the gentlest of smiles, as if already anticipating as much, anyway.

"Sure, let's talk."

It's colder the closer the two of you get to the waves of the water, the sound of them crashing lightly against the muddy sands that lie beneath — with the sun just about set already and hues of orange with purple only barely peeking out from above the costal line — with legs dangled over the side of the small, wooden pier, Jeno slings an arm up and over your shoulders to tug you closer against himself, partially for the warmth and combatting the breeze, but really, just because he wants to have you there.

"Have fun?" He finally asks, you nod against him.

"I've kind of fallen for you a bit, ya know that?"

To this admission, Jeno reels so hard that it has you looking up at him — he looks far more shocked than you would have anticipated going into this because...obviously? And as a result, you snort out a laugh. "What? Isn't it obvious?"

"I mean—I'm just...surprised, I guess?" He admits awkwardly before settling back into place. "We're having fun and I was trying so damn hard, but I didn't think it actually worked."

"You're kinda oblivious, yeah?"

Jeno laughs. "I've heard that before, yeah."

With the words now out in the open, you allow there to be some silence between the two of you — something of a ruminating of what this is and what that means between the two of you right now, with no real need to add anything more to it in immediate time.

Instead, the two of you look out towards the water — still painted with pinks and purples as the sun sets over it for its final few minutes before nightfall.

You inhale to speak, though you're not thrilled about it despite its necessity.

"We can't...keep this going, you know," you say first, choosing words carefully as you carry out the thought. "It was fun but you know...back to real life, back to home."

Glancing up to gauge his response, Jeno only smiles as the words for a few, passing seconds before looking down at you and responding.

"Yeah, I know."

Through more silence, you think that you can feel it in his chest the way his heart beats in such a way that the sadness of the circumstances is evident. An unfortunate reality of such things: sometimes it really is wrong place, wrong time, wrong location, wrong...everything but you.

Standing again and heading back inside with fingers interlocked, you can't help but think of how the thing they never tell you about short term relationships is that they can be just as meaningful, just as impactful as long term ones. There's nothing inherently lesser, or worse, or meaningless about them — a snapshot in time where everything between you and someone else was perfect and incapable of being tarnished, at that — really, it's an ideal circumstance, especially as someone with a desire to rekindle hope in the concept of loving and being loved.

Just because a relationship ends, doesn't mean it lacks value.

And when you go back home, you'll take Jeno with you: perfect hair, perfect smile, and adorably unaware disposition all packaged up as a reminder of how good it can be to simply be.

Getting back inside, after enjoying the inviting sights and sounds of the quiet outdoors, the unrelenting boom of loud music and yelling friends pierces your ears in such a way that you can't help but attempt to curl in on yourself and escape from it. Jeno takes notice with a squeeze of your hand upon arriving to the kitchen, quickly pouring drinks for each of you and then dipping down next to your ear.

"Want to go upstairs where it's quieter?"

Yeah, of course you do. Still one last thing on the agenda for this trip, after all.

Discarding nearly full cups and making your way up the stairs; through the hallway that's all too familiar to you by now, you can't help but call back to the last time you'd done this very same walk, with this very same man: a few key differences now compared to then that are worth taking note of, however. For one, Jeno's grip on your hand as he leads you up despite not even being entirely sure which room it is that you'd once called yours is, and two, you now find yourself far more open to any potential scenarios that may arise.

In fact, you're hoping that they do.

Swapping places and taking the lead, Jeno follows just behind you as you open the door to your bedroom — stepping inside where all of your packed bags and other such belongings not yet able to be stuffed away until the very last moment lie about on countertops or draped over chair backs — when the two of you step inside, you realize that there's a part of you that has sort of already come to this conclusion a long time ago. It's difficult to pinpoint the exact moment, and likely well enough before the late evening spent alone with him at his place of employment, rather, your memory lands at that time in the parking lot, when your ex called, and Jeno was right there to pick up the proverbial pieces of you.

It wasn't much, just that he was there. Sometimes that's enough.

Turning back to face him, it's a quick movement and so much so that the surprise of it is evident on his face with wide eyes and a late response to the feeling of your lips on his, but more than that, the sound of the door shutting behind his back and locking into place by no ones insistence but your own.

He's quick enough on the uptake, however; hands coming up to slot gently on either side of your face to pull you just that much more into the kiss — and with the length of your body pressed just as hard against him as he stands pinned between you and hard wood, the close proximity is just so giving in how you're able to catch every hitch of his breath in his throat and forced back groan in his chest.

You pull back, and with a wickedly playful grin across your face. "You've been waiting?"

To that, Jeno scoffs before bringing hands down to your shoulders and gently pushing you to step backwards towards the bed. "Only as long as you have."

The removal of clothing is quick but never quick enough despite the flurry of fabric strewn about the floor through the incessant need to kiss and be kissed by him. Rather, the two of you only part from one another if it's required to discard something that now, more than ever, is no longer desired.

The irony, of course, is in the fact that the both of you have already seen so much of what there is to be seen. Swimsuits only leaving so much to the imagination, as is the same for the pool boys usual choice of lazy attire — you come to find that when presented differently, the absence of clothing and the emergence of skin that you think you've already grown used to couldn't be further from the case. It looks different, feels different — the smooth palm of your hands sliding over arm muscles that you've already felt so many times before as his teeth catch at the bottom of your lip in a kiss that only becomes that much more heated with every passing second — the man that you've known all of the way up until now still might just have so much more still to show you.

At least, that was your impression from the waterpark festivities that evening.

Creating space between your bodies only long enough to plop yourself back and onto the mattress, Jeno wastes no time in following you as he slots himself between your legs and once again kisses you as if never able to have enough of it. One hand pressed into the mattress beside your head, the other trails down the length of your form to settle right between your legs — and now, with no barriers between you and him but his own undergarments — just one, casual dip of his middle finger shallowly between your folds is enough to have your breath hitching differently against his lips.

He grins at the reaction, but says nothing.

Instead, he dips his head down leaving a trail of kisses and nips of his teeth into the flesh of your neck, shifting his positioning back and just enough to be able to mouth over one of your nipples with a firm, swirl of his tongue. It's nice, but nothing special — at least, not before the same pad of his finger between your legs finds such light but evident purchase against your clit.

Slow, careful circles rubbed against you, back arching ever so slightly off the bed and up against his mouth as he continues teasing licks against your flesh, it's a certain kind of torment feeling so much and not enough all at once, and you can't help but consider one fact: he knows it.

You're not one to beg (well, other than that one time), and you're certainly not going to be undone so easily by a guy that for all intents and purposes you barely even know, and biting back a groan, you tightly knit your eyes shut in hopes that perhaps he's not torturing you on purpose — dragging this out because you both know it's the first and last time you'll ever get to have it — and surely he'll make quick work of you soon enough.

But the slow, down and inward press of the same finger towards your opening, only to replace the empty spot with his thumb has you thinking otherwise.

Jeno barely penetrates you with the single tip of his digit — if he does, it's so shallow that you can barely even feel it — a crime in and of itself, but amplified by the fact that you're racing towards the point of no return in what it is that you want, and if he insists on teasing you with the opportunity of being filled by him, then little does he know that he's stumbled upon the grandest of unravelings of you.

A heavy exhale, you decide you have to look down to take it all in, and especially if you're going to have a chance at saying words at any point in time. As you crack an eye open, Jeno switches breast to take your other nub between warm, wet lips — and it's then that he digs a finger into you just a bit deeper than before and all the while maintaining attention to the aching bundle of nerves held captive beneath his thumb.

Now you're frustrated, and you're not sure you can hold evidence of that back much longer.

With another heavy exhale, you attempt to bear down your hips against his hand to feel more of him, but to that, Jeno looks up to meet eyes with you wearing a look that almost tells of disapproval.

"In a hurry?"

You groan, not entirely sure if at the words or the implications behind them.

He wants to take his time.

"No, just—" you all but whimper, head thrown back against the pillow beneath it once again as if resigned to simply being along for the ride with this man. "—Kind of killing me, here."

"Why?" He questions with lips still feathering against the skin of your chest.

Then, the finger far too casually settled at your opening is slowly driven in to the last knuckle, and it feels fucking electric.

"This what you want?"

For someone who has always had a low tone of voice, you're not sure where the next few levels in drop have come from, same going for the erotic gravel that courses through his throat with every word he says against you. Either way, that in combination with the full length of his middle finger buried in your cunt already has you wondering just how it is that you're going to get through this particular night.

Guys like this are supposed to kiss you, get a blowie, maybe give you the sloppiest oral sex you've ever had (but hey, at least the effort is there), and then fuck you into the mattress for a full, mind blowing three minutes before rolling onto their backs and passing out.

So, what the fuck is this?

"Yes," you resign yourself to answering, because presumably you won't receive much else if not for your going along with it. Squirming against his hand again, you feel him pull from you ever so slightly before once again burying the hand deep against you.

Jeno hums before speaking again. "I don't think it is, but I think you're willing to settle for now."

Oh, he's so annoying when knuckle deep in pussy.

It's then that he pulls himself up and into a knelt position between your legs: not removing his hand from your pussy, but instead, bringing the other one — now freed — to the same position.

The new thumb coming down to collect the slick collecting around his finger, he brings it to your clit to focus one hand entirely on that motion, and now leaving the other to focus entirely on the place where he enters you. Now, however, with far more range of movement and ease of angle, Jeno settles into a smooth, rhythmic flick of his wrist to once again simulate fucking you the way that you really want him to.

Everything but what you actually want, and it's driving you fucking insane.

It's almost perfect, though, and that you find irritating in and of itself. Glancing up at him, Jeno's attention is spent mostly on watching you and your face, only occasionally allowing his eyes to drop down to take in the sight of the absolute mess he's making of you now.

He adds a second finger, and with it, a slightly faster rhythm.

Still trying not to sound entirely defeated and fucked out, in the absence of your moans, instead the room fills with the familiar, wet sounds of the work that he's doing on you — and upon the realization, you might have to just moan, it's less humiliating than this.

A certain curl of his fingers, however, and you don't have to weigh the pros and cons any longer as the sound is ripped from your throat whether you like it or not.

"Oh," he whispers in the event of it, as if pleased by his sudden findings. "You liked that one."

"Sh—Shut up," you barely manage out in reply before another groan falls from you, and while you're frustrated and horny, you muster up the desire you begin making requests. "Faster," you whine out, hips grinding down against his hand in hopes for more friction against your clit.

"Demanding," Jeno coos in response, though not heeding it whatsoever and much to your displeasure. Instead, you feel another shift in the mattress from his movement, and despite being somewhat terrified of the next thing that this guy could have up his sleeve for you, you look down towards him...

Only to find him settling face first with your pussy, and two fingers carefully finding their way back inside of you.

"You're lucky I'm kind of a pushover," he says with a small chuckle, and punctuating it with a long, firm lick through the slit of your pussy that has your entire body trembling with promise. "You want to cum, then I'll make you cum."

There's not much to say to that, and not that you'd be able to on account of his lips quickly attaching themselves around the very spot that craves the attention. Less than that is the amount of time that you have to think over the fact that you're not going to be able to hold out very long due to him toying with you up until this moment, either. You consider that there's always a bit of ego involves in situations such as this — not wanting to appear too eager, too interested, but you suppose it's long past that point now, anyway.

With fingers dug deep inside of you and the expertly pointed grind of his tongue against your clit — relentlessly quick and just like you'd asked of his hand only moments prior, he's definitely trying to make you cum, and he most certainly is going to get his reward, as well.

Bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth as every muscle in your lower body tenses for the impending release; one hand gripped into the sheets just below and the other coming up to find purchase in the bleached blonde hair that you've grown so fond of after such a short time — you're not able to say much as it feels as though every breath is being sucked out of you by the man as he teeters you on the edge one last time before pushing you over it — instead, you're somewhat displeased by how easy it is to say his name in little more than an airy chant; over, and over, and over again as he finally topples you over into orgasmic release and with a rush hitting so hard and so fast that any sound that once would have escaped from you is instead replaced with a silent shriek of nothingness as a result of your dry, spent throat.

You need a moment before anything else happens — many moments, in fact — of heavy breaths and a heaving chest as you attempt to collect yourself in the aftermath of it all, and there's a split second where the thought crosses your mind that if this was all that would amount from your night together with him, that might actually be good enough.

Still plenty of time left in the evening, however.

Finally, you pull in a full breath of fresh air before looking back down towards Jeno: face cradled in one hand and gazing at you with nothing but proud adoration in his eyes, you're annoyed but not enough to ignore the disheveled mess of hair atop his head, as well as the wet glisten of you that's still happily sported along his chin.

"Good?"

He's so annoying.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, you like being praised or something?"

"Doesn't everyone?" He playfully responds, once again dragging a finger through the prominent wetness of your folds. "Look how wet you are, so good for me."

You know he's toying with you, not meaning anything in particular by it, but you're not proud of how evidently correct he is, either. Regardless, he changes the subject fairly quickly beyond it.

"Are you down and out for the night already?" Jeno chuckles, pulling himself up and into a kneeling position once again and if anticipating the fact that you'll tell him you're not.

It's only then that you finally get a real, good look at the lining of what lies hidden beneath the last remaining black garment on him.

Not done, not even close.

Sitting up only long enough to grab an arm and pull him back down with you, Jeno catches himself with both palms splayed out on the mattress as you pull him into a kiss once again. This time is different, however. Beyond the taste of yourself so evident on his mouth, he kisses you in a way that's far needier, less held back than all of the other times before. Always wanted you, and probably painfully so, but not enough to ever put that above anything else at hand.

But, suppose it's his turn now.

Hand dipping down between both of your bodies and wasting no time slipping into the black fabric to feel him, your fingers wrap around the smooth flesh of his cock in such a way that already has him sighing into your mouth — it's sort of addicting, the way he sounds and feels and looks like this, at the mercy of you and only ever really wanting you since the moment he laid eyes — in ways, it's a job well done, and now he shall receive his prize.

Though, you're not even really sure which one of you is winning, now.

It's difficult to get a feel for metrics just by touch — but thick and plenty long enough come to mind in a way that's far too dizzying to spend too much time thinking about. You give him a few lazy tugs before Jeno pulls up and away from you entirely to hang over the edge of the bed and fish out the most obvious thing from his pants pocket.

"Came prepared," you casually comment, and when he comes back up with the package in hand, he only sighs in relief.

"Not a chance I was going to fuck this up by not thinking ahead," Jeno responds firstly, finally shuffling the fabric at his hips down and revealing the full sight of himself to you. "Though, you'd let me hit without it anyway, I guess."

"Oh my God!" You whine in embarrassment, reaching up to playfully slap his arm as he rolls the condom along himself. "Moment of weakness, I would have come to my senses."

Settling back down lengthwise against your body, Jeno kisses you hard once more as you feel the distinct wrapping around your thigh of an arm that intends to have you fully splayed open for him. Once finished there, the same hand comes between you — dragging the wide, length of his cock through your wetness before even attempting to push inside.

It's similarly torturous to before, however, and your squirming beneath his body is evidence of it enough.

Forearm holding his body weight, Jeno shifts his hand upwards so that he can touch your face as he continues to bring you to madness — soft kisses peppering not only your lips but your jaw, cheeks, and even falling down onto your neck — you can't tell if he's doing it purposefully in hopes that you'll beg, or if he truly has no idea just what it is that he's doing.

You believe it to be the former, though.

Regardless, he's a man worn thin of patience himself, and your requests are not needed to feel the incredibly present stretch of him entering you.

Embarrassingly slick for him and well prepared, you're reminded of the comment he made back the last time you two shared a moment such as this — how he wanted it to be different, right, in some ways, and as the feeling of him pushing to fill you to the brim brings you to nearly dizzying new heights — with fingers gripped into the skin of his back and shoulders and teeth gritted, you can kind of see why.

You don't want to say his cock is perfect, but it's pretty fucking good.

Once fully seated inside of you, Jeno brings that hand back to your thigh to pull it wide and away. Rather than moving right away, he allows you some time to get used to him — no stranger to a big dick, but a wide one certainly tends to take a second each and every time. In the meantime; lips trailing down your neck, sucking and biting into the skin as you try to bite back the whimpers that threaten you already — unfortunately, you're soon to find this man to be no such help in you maintaining your composure.

Stray fingers curled into your hair — not to pull or cause pain, nothing more than simply holding you there — you become starkly aware of how consumed you are by him now, and with hot breath cascading across your ear and cheeks, you're once again faced with that same low, gravely tone of voice from earlier that had you coming nearly undone in the palm of his hand.

"How do you like it?"

Barely coherent enough to register the question, you feel the shiver the words send down your body as a result of it, all the same — as if somewhere in your subconscious well aware of the implications long before your present and aware mind capable.

Before you can answer, however, his voice drops lower and down into a whisper against the shell of your ear. "How do you want me to fuck you?"

Another chill, and with it paired with one shallow drive of himself against you.

"Been dying to feel you cum around my cock, so please," he says, and this time with desperate emphasis coloring the plea at the end.

"Tell me how you want to be fucked."

The shivers subsequently pooling right between your legs and at the very spot where Jeno enters you — you know well enough that he can feel the way your cunt clenches down hard around the thick of him with every pointed, filthy word that drops from his lips. More than that, however, is the way your fingernails dig that much harder into his flesh at the promise of finally receiving precisely what it is that you want from him.

To be fucked stupid, and borderline incoherent.

He doesn't wait for an answer from you before beginning a calm, steady rhythm against you, though. Smart enough to know that regardless of your answer, you both do require friction from this sort of engagement — rather, just like the time before it's the particular way his breath hitches and he softly groans into your ear with every tight, wet hug of your pussy against his thrusts that is quite possibly doing you in more than the actual action itself is.

No matter, though, because your mind is made up.

"Harder," you whimper out for him with hips pushing up to meet his actions. "Fuck me harder, deeper—"

His next drive into you has your entire body moving up the length of the bed, as well as any further words or thoughts lost somewhere in the mix between.

The next shift in positioning is quick, so much so that it has your head spinning ever so slightly as you feel him bring his torso off of your own to prop himself up and over you once more — it's better leverage for harder thrusts, and even more is the capturing of one of your stray wrists in hand just before settling himself in place. Effectively pinned beneath him, there's a brief moment where he stills — flashes you a look to check in and make sure you're not displeased with the new development, because there's always a bit of growing pains in an attempt to take the lead, be sexy, and more than that, not overstep any boundaries.

But really, you know he just wants to do whatever it takes to make you cum as hard as possible, and it's a commendable effort, that much is for sure.

Two, three hard drives into you with your wrist pinned just next to your head and you're all but crying out for him. Figure, that's probably motivation enough.

Jeno continues to fuck you hard, but not especially fast as every drive of his length into you is deliberate, pointed, and angled perfectly to find and continue to rub against that particular spot that has you tensing and shaking beneath him. Watching him from this angle above you; muscles firm and flexed with every calculated thrust, mouth only slightly hung ajar as eyes that now remain nearly glued to the place that the thickness of his cock disappears inside of you with slickened ease — it's hard to imagine that you ever considered not allowing yourself this moment in time, because God, he's going to get precisely what he set out for.

Glancing up from that place, Jeno's eyes meet your own before clenching shut tightly to take in the feeling of you. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good."

He was right, the praise thing is pretty fucking excellent. Might as well pay it back.

Bearing down to meet one of his thrusts, you whine out for him in response. "Feel so good," you start before another hard pound of his hips against your own interrupts the thought. "F—Feel so big."

With that, you feel his hips falter ever so slightly, paired with a light chuckle falling from his lips.

"Don't say that," he says in a laugh. "Talk about how big it is and I'll cum in two second flat."

This knowledge piques your interest, hand that remains unpinned coming up to lightly cradle his face. "That's what does it for you, huh? Like hearing about how big your cock is? How full I feel when—"

"I'm serious!" Jeno then gasps suddenly, stilling his motions between your legs altogether and laughing all the while. "I'm not joking, I will cum right now if you keep it up, no one wants that."

You laugh to match him. "Okay, okay! I didn't realize it was that bad..."

Dipping down again, Jeno kisses you hard and firm on the mouth before pulling back up and delivering a single, hard drive of himself into you. "It's bad, and if I cum before you do I'm going to put my fucking head in the blender, so may I?"

"By all means."

It's out of scene and not a particularly sexy conversation, but it is one that reminds you of all of the things that you seem to adore about the man. Someone who can be everything and at a moments notice: caring, funny, sexy, good in bed, bad in bed should the moment fit — it serves as all the more reason that you're thankful for your making of the decision to go through with this, after all. Not just for the sex, because sex can be found anywhere — but rather, because of this particular moment right here and now, shared with this particular man.

And that, you can't find just anywhere.

Jeno wastes no time settling back into things as he fucks into you hard once again, but also faster than previously. There's something about the new angle that he's settled himself in — a perfect lean of his torso over yours that has the shaft of his cock rubbing perfectly against your clit in such a way that has your body tensing and nerves firing with each and every thrust of himself into your cunt. This time, over the sounds of wet and skin meeting, instead it's you that's heard in particular over everything else — with no way or ability to bring yourself back down from the impending doom of the orgasm that's now threatening to rip through you at a moments notice.

Of course, Jeno notices, and probably feels as much with how tightly wrapped around his cock you are — and if he's close to cumming himself, you can't tell through his composure as his steady hips never once falter through the loud whines and whimpers that fall from you on account of him.

"Close?" He asks, well aware of the way you fall apart beneath him and with no other interest than you get you precisely there.

You nod quickly. "Harder, harder, fuck—"

And you don't have to ask twice as Jeno once again settles into a different position — unpinning your wrist and instead bringing both of his large, strong hands down to clasp onto the dip of your hips for leverage — instead now he holds the ability to not only fuck up into you, but also pull you down onto his cock, and in even quicker, harder succession.

You sort of wish you could have enjoyed the feeling of him like this just a bit more — the full, thick pull of his cock against your walls with every fluid drag of himself against you — but instead, Jeno is only granted a handful more drives of himself into you like this before you're crying out and cumming hard around him in electric pulses and waves of clenches down around his length.

Reduced to nearly whining, Jeno doesn't stop his relentless force into you in chase of his own release now that his job here is done, and rather, you're not quite satisfied with the impending end of this scenario just yet, either.

"Cum, baby," you whisper out to him, and you're certain that you can see the way the pet name all but deep fries his brain in real time with the clench of his facial features upon hearing it. "Want you to cum on me, wanna see it."

Another shockwave to an already far too aroused mans brain, he attempts to shake it off long enough to focus back on the task at hand but shortly thereafter realizes that there isn't much left to focus on. Four or five more hard thrusts into your cunt, Jeno quickly withdraws from you — peeling the condom from his glistening wet length and swiftly palming over himself in quick succession to bring himself the rest of the way there over your messy, exposed pussy and stomach.

But really, you just want to watch him stroke it.

A beautiful sight: a man desperate and on the verge of orgasm, fast at hand to bring himself over the edge, the muscles in Jeno's abdomen tense as he teeters on the edge of release for your viewing pleasure, and as his breaths begin to hitch in his throat only to be replaced by short, pained whimpers, you deliver the killing blow for him.

"So big, cum for me baby—"

Granted, you hadn't planned much of a script in your head past that point, but it would go unneeded anyway as you watch Jeno's fist stutter to a halt halfway down the shaft of his cock before emptying his load atop the already messy pool of wetness gathered at your spread open folds.

And perhaps nothing better than the loud, anguished groan of his release as he slowly finishes stroking himself over your cunt and to completion.

Kinda defeats the purpose of condoms but the two of you will have to take that up with the health clinic another day.

Slumping down and onto his back next to you, both with quickly rising and falling chests in an attempt to breath air that brings something other than the scent of sex, Jeno is the first to lean into you to press a kiss to your temple, just like so many times before.

"Good?" He asks.

You hum coyly before shrugging. "It'll do, I guess."

"Nice, that's what I am for. Have all the ladies in town like 'eh, it was this or reruns of Friends."

Smiling, you inhale deeply with thoughts of this. All of this, and just how nice it is. You wonder briefly if this is a life you could see yourself getting used to — being had and held by the man lying next to you — before the stark reminder of it not even so much as being an option settles in once more.

Short term relationships are valid, and giving — and you couldn't possibly end this one off on a better note.

Take it for what it is.

Waking together in the morning is as nice as the night before, albeit far less involved. Even through the entanglements of limbs and an incredibly pointed lack of clothing on either of you, you're the first to stir with Jeno still lying beside you, although quickly met by the man to have gentle pecks and other such trinkets of adoration bestowed upon you in what is now your final couple of hours left together.

In the shower, there's a moment that you think maybe it can be done after all, and as Jeno stands with toothbrush in hand and mouth full, when you dip your head out to make a mention of the prospect to him, once your eyes meet you can't help but cower back behind the stained glass from which you had come.

Don't ruin this, just let it be.

With bags lazily packed and messily stuffed into the car, the friend groups say their goodbyes at around noon, and with the way that some of them go, you think that you and Jeno far from the only two who consummate their relationship on the final night.

It's sort of sad, in a way, but you suppose you're glad you're not alone in feeling this way.

Turning to face Jeno one, final time — eye smile and freckle that you've grown so fond of — his hands come up to cradle the sides of your face before pulling you into a tender kiss for the final time, his eyes never leaving yours in the pull back even for a second.

Hands dropping to pinky fingers on each hand interlocked as you begin to make your way to the vehicle, you're thankful at least that Jeno have the ability to maintain a strong facade in the aftermath of all of this because frankly, you're not so sure how well you're going to fair once it's all said and done.

There's a pause with arms extended as you open the car door, the link between you and him now stretched nearly as far as it can be held by a mere two fingers — all the while, his gaze never falls from you.

And neither does his smile.

"Safe drive."

Two unreasonably gut-wrenching words.

"We will."

And just like that, you're off.

Arm propped up on the side of the door, the inside of the car is dead silent. You know why. Everyone knows why. No one really wants to talk about it.

Then, your phone buzzes.

Digging it from your bag, you're not entirely sure what to expect, though you're hoping not to find one thing in particular. Instead, you're pleasantly surprised by the name that flashes up on the screen.

Well, suppose that's a bit of an understatement.

Jeno ♡♡ [12:22]: so, what are your plans for winter vacation, anyway?

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2 (probably)

#jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno x y/n #jeno x you #jeno scenarios #jeno fanfic #jeno imagines #nct smut #nct x you #nct x y/n #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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