#if we can avoid talking to a stranger on the street we will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

setsugekka · 11 months

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❥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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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

scorch marks | ch 3

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: Wednesday has been careful to keep what you two have behind closed doors and far away from labels; but when someone starts to take it — take you — away from her, she realizes how much she cares.

A/N: I'm not sure if I'm completely happy with how this turned out, but that's my life nowadays. And I wanted to post this for you guys before I leave for my little trip for new years, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I think I ended up writing this one exclusively from Wednesday's pov lol. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

Human emotions were a strange, bothersome thing. Love could make you kill just as much as anger; ambition could make you get down on one knee to pledge your devotion to someone just as much as love.

They can get in the way of a clear mind, making you say or do something that would come back to torture you later.

That was probably their most devious power. And they lead to feelings; that are messy and unstable.

Wednesday prided herself on having control over them, not the other way around. Or at least she did. Because recently she has been victim to so many, that she didn't have the stomach to keep count.

She remembers the coldness of the rain against her skin as she walked away from Weathervane — away from you — it was pleasant and comforting; a safe blanket as the droplets trickled down her forehead all the way to her chin and hid the few stray tears that escaped her.

Her steps had been fast in desperation to get away. Her throat closed so tightly that she thought having someone choking her would be more bearable. Her heart beating so painfully, that maybe a bullet would've been more merciful.

She walked, and walked, and walked; her feet carrying her to school without realizing it. She was soaked when she stepped into her dorm, making puddles of water with each step she took. She remembers Enid talking, but the words were blurred.

Wednesday had made a beeline to the shower, turning it on with a temperature colder than the rain she had just escaped from.

Some say the second time around is more bearable. This certainly wasn't the case for her.

It was the day Wednesday put an end to whatever was happening between you and her. The day where she hated the most that she was forced to feel her own emotions.

The week that followed wasn't an improvement either.

Your words kept replaying in Wednesday's mind like a broken record; this is not a date, and please can we talk?

What would you have said, had she cared to listen?

Wednesday sat in front of her typewriter every day, staring at the blank paper and being unable to fill it. She'd hit a stump, because maybe she'd never know what you would have said.

You passed by each other in Nevermore's hallways as if you were just two strangers in the street, never to cross paths again. When you stood on one side of the bee keeper's shed, Wednesday stayed in the far opposite one, and if she so much as tried coming closer, you'd drop whatever it was you were doing and walk away. Even if Enid asked, you didn't come to her dorm anymore, prompting the werewolf to ask questions even though she could guess the answer.

Wednesday didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much. She caught herself tracing the lines of her own palm in a motion that was yours to make, brushing the corner of her lips in the place that was yours to kiss. And as much as she hated this feeling with all her might, hated you for forcing it into her, she couldn't chase it away.

It was so sadistically ironic that Wednesday kept you at arm's length in order to avoid attachment and loss, and that's exactly what she got. Maybe this is what Goody was trying to warn her about, that no matter the road she takes, the end will always be the same.

—

Today was a friday, ten days and four hours since the last time Wednesday spoke with you, since she replicated a damn drama cliche with her pitiful walk in the rain. Not that she was keeping count.

She sat at one of the tables on the quad, Enid at her side talking about something she wasn't listening to. The day was gray, morbidly so as the clouds loomed above, dark and cold in a way that Wednesday would've loved if it wasn't for you.

You who sat at the other end of the quad, putting as many tables and obnoxiously loud students between you and Wednesday as you could. You who looked so undeniably beautiful under the shadows. You who was smiling, happy as you laughed with your friends and spared no glances into the crowd to look for anyone.

Were you happier without her?

Wednesday sucked in a sharp breath at the mere thought of it, her lower lip quivering slightly as she exhaled, before she averted her eyes from you with a blink.

She turned to Enid only to find the girl's bright eyes already on her, a knowing smirk on her pink lips; "I won't even ask if you were listening."

"I got bored after the word shopping," Wednesday stated, raising an eyebrow that got Enid rolling her eyes.

"And because you were stalking our resident pretty girl," Enid teased, bumping Wednesday's shoulder with hers.

It was a truth that Wednesday countered with a lie; "I only stalk people who are hiding something or who have something I want, she doesn't fit on any of those."

Enid slumped on her seat, resting her head on her hands as she looked at Wednesday, "you can't keep doing this, Wednesday."

"Doing what?"

"Pretending like you don't care," Enid says then, with the frustration of someone who's just seen their favorite couple from a tv show hit another almost.

"Why would you assume the opposite?" Wednesday asks irritatedly.

Enid gives her best friend a look that could only be read as seriously? before she sits up straighter; "you two went from hanging out in the dorm for hours and sneaking out when you think no one's watching, to staying on different sides of the school and avoiding each other like the plague. Even you have to feel that change."

But I don't want to; Wednesday thinks to herself. Her only response is to look away.

With a sigh, Enid softens; "why won't you just tell her the truth?" She asks gently. The werewolf doesn't know the full story, and when her roommate ignores her questions and neither you nor Yoko will talk, gossip can only do so much; but even a blind person can see that whatever happened, hurt both of you.

Wednesday frowns; "what truth?"

"That you have feelings for her, silly. Like, genuinely more than friends feelings." There's an excited smile on Enid's lips as she says it, eyes glinting with the prospect of a love story.

"That's a horrible idea," Wednesday's face does something complicated, as if she's sorting on how to feel about this — or tasted something sour. "Besides, you know what happened the last time I did something remotely close to that."

And just like that, the muddy waters start to clear, the fog starts to dissipate and Enid understands what is happening — if just a little better.

The blonde reaches out a hand to Wednesday's forearm, squeezing softly; "Wednesday, this is Y/N we're talking about, she's not gonna turn into a murderous monster and break your heart."

Wednesday visibly gulps, her jaw painfully clenched as she felt uncharacteristically small under Enid's gaze.

"Plus I thought you'd be into the whole potential heartbreak thing." Enid teases, fighting back a grin, to which Wednesday can only mumble back;

"Not nearly as fun as I thought it'd be."

Switching her gaze between you and the raven-haired girl by her side, Enid hums; "want my advice?"

"No."

"I'd take my chances if I were you, because I know she genuinely cares about you. A lot."

There was something about the way Wednesday dropped her shoulders slightly, about the way she stole another glance at you as if you had just bought a one-way ticket to another country. It was that bittersweet feeling of a good thing that came to its end way too early.

Enid felt like crying.

"I'm afraid I'm too late, Enid."

—

It wasn't until dinner time — and after much, much insistence from Enid — that Wednesday decided to try and mend her mistake.

The cafeteria was already filled with students when she arrived, in true Nevermore fashion, the place was big and ancient; a meticulously decorated stone-walled room with tables and a kitchen area. Werewolves, Enid's brothers probably, were making a scene near the kitchen; there were gorgons and sirens playing a card game on one of the tables; and you sat with the vampires, with Yoko by your side no less.

Wednesday felt curious eyes on her, undoubtedly her peers wondering why she'd been staring unmoving for so long. A deep breath passed through her lips as she begrudgingly swallowed her pride and took the first step, her boots thudding against the stone floor.

With each of her steps, she repeated the words in her head; can we talk? Do you still wish to talk? Or would it be better, I need to talk with you?

Wednesday decides that fighting a murderous monster would be infinitely easier.

Your eyes locked in on her figure before she even reached you, and Wednesday smiled, a tiny tilt of lips that only you would notice; but you looked away from her before it happened.

Did people care about each other only because they enjoyed the pain that comes with it?

Something akin to panic fluttered inside Wednesday's stomach when you got up from your seat, reaching for your backpack and muttering a few goodbyes to your friends as you walked between the tables. The Addams girl quickened her steps, almost bumping into Bianca and not bothering to turn around when the siren called her out on it.

Wednesday just about managed to stop in front of you before you left for the doors.

Is this what you felt on that day?

Your eyes closed with a sigh, your hands were buried deep in your pockets and there was a rigidness to your shoulders. You were nervous, and even if it wasn't the right time, Wednesday was proud of herself for knowing it.

But having you this close again after so long — not really, ten days aren't that long, yet Wednesday hates that it felt like ages — has its downsides.

Wednesday couldn't speak. The only thing she needed to do, and her words are stuck. Feelings are a pain in the ass to deal with.

Yoko stood by your side, arms crossed over her chest; "do you have anything to say or what?"

She's protective, Wednesday doesn't blame her for it anymore.

Yes, she should say. There's a glint of hope in your eyes when you look at her; Wednesday finds herself wanting to reach out, but she's not sure she's allowed to anymore. She wonders if you missed her as much as she misses you.

"No," is what she says, and it's quite painful.

—

It's well into the night when Wednesday makes her way back to her dorm, the stairs creaking under her boots, a half-moon shining high on the sky being the only source of light.

her insides are twisting with a mix of rage, frustration, self-pity, and something else that's just heavy.

She pushed open the door to her dorm only to find it empty. Enid's bed is unmade and Wednesday's typewriter still has a blank page on it.

Enid had texted Wednesday earlier, something about going out with Ajax and not coming back too soon. The solitude was well appreciated, it gave the Addams girl some much-needed peace to work on her novel. The only problem is that her mind was nowhere near peaceful.

The first thing that caught Wednesday's attention after she walked in was the potted cactus by her window, it looked a little sad, its soil all dry and the color not as green as it should be. Wednesday didn't think twice as she walked to her bathroom, filling a cup with water and gently emptying it into the plant's pot. At least of that part of you, she'd take good care of.

She took off her hoodie next, throwing it on top of her bed. It was pathetic that the simple action got her thinking of you too, of when you'd lounge on there talking nonsense with Thing while she wrote.

How could one person hold so much power over another was beyond Wednesday, especially because she didn't allow it; it just happened. It happened that she kissed you out of impulse, just because she couldn't die without knowing what your lips felt like; or that she kept calling on you more and more after that, feeling a hole in her chest whenever you were away for too long.

It just happened that she fell for you, and maybe it was inevitable, maybe you'd be her doom. But it was her choice to push you away, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't the one thing she regretted the most.

There was a knock on Wednesday's door that snapped her mind back to reality. She turned around, frowning as she stared at the dark wooden thing, wondering who would seek her out this late in the night.

Honestly? Wednesday should've seen it coming as soon as Enid suggested she should talk with you. She should've known.

She swung open the door only to reveal you on the other side, in plaid pajama pants and a white shirt, hugging yourself because of the coldness of the empty hallways.

Your posture went rigid as soon as your eyes found Wednesday's, it got her wondering if you forgot this was her dorm, if you knocked on the wrong door by accident.

"Hello," Wednesday said as she looked at you, features impassive, her hand tightening around the door handle until her knuckles turned white.

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip before you spoke; "Enid texted me, said you needed help with something. That it was an emergency," you gulped, diving into over-explanation, "and that she wasn't here, so she asked if I could…" You trailed off, your fingers nervously tapping your arm.

Oh. Maybe her roommate wasn't too far off when she said you cared. It was rare the times where anyone would be able to easily read Wednesday's emotions. This was one of them and it wasn't a surprise that you were the cause.

There was a glint to Wednesday's eyes that belonged to you, her features softened in a blink — no more creases to her eyebrows and lips parting in vain when her words got tangled on her tongue — it was the calmness after a raging storm.

Wednesday used to mock the people who spoke about soulmates, about the invisible red string that few ones were lucky enough to find the other end of. But could there ever be any other explanation for the way you set her at ease?

She nodded once, stepping aside so you could walk in.

You were hesitant in the way you did so, as if you didn't belong, and Wednesday hated it — because you did belong, right here by her side. You stood in the middle of her dorm, right between the division of colors to blankness on the round window.

The air felt electric around you. Wednesday chanced a step closer, her gaze casting over every twitch of your expressions; "I do," she started, and a beat passed as she refused to take the last chance to back down and let you go, "I do have something to say."

You scoffed, "that doesn't sound like an emergency," but there was no bite to your tone, almost as if you wanted her to object.

"It is," Wednesday told you, allowing the affection she held for you to drip from every syllable. One more chance, that's all she needed, and maybe she’d tell you just what it is that you do to her.

"Okay."

You had a kindness to you that she was underserving of, Wednesday thought. But maybe she could work her way to it. She raised her chin, striving to keep her heartbeat in check; "I wasn't completely fair last time we spoke, I'll measure my words better if you're willing to talk to me again."

Wednesday said the words as if they were the particularities of a contract, and not an apology to someone who held her cold heart in their hands. She realized it was the wrong thing to say as soon as your features fell.

You took on the glow of the moon effortlessly as it came through the window, it framed the lines of your jaw and cheekbone, all delicate and pretty. You ducked your head, allowing your hair to partially cover your eyes as you nodded a few times. "Great," you mumbled, before taking a few quick steps with intent to go around Wednesday and back to the lonely hallways.

She didn't let you, her cold hand closed around your own as you made to walk past her, keeping you in place in a gesture that surprised both of you.

Having your skin against hers again made Wednesday feel like coming home after a long journey. It's strange that that's what you became to her.

The hold she had on you wasn't strong, you could easily pull your hand away and leave. But you didn't.

"It was unfair of me," Wednesday started, each word tighter than the next as she forced them out. More than anything, Wednesday despised talking about her feelings, but words are all she has now, "the mistake was mine and I will accept the consequences for it. But you should have all cards on the table when making your judgment."

If there was a heaven, you already had your place on it — you turned back around to face Wednesday properly, and without letting go of her hand, you adjusted your hold so that your fingers could intertwine; your thumb tracing random patterns on her skin in a motion that you knew calmed her down. Because you knew how hard this was for her — Wednesday was sure you were an angel in your past life.

The dorm room had never felt this detached from the outside world, as it does now, holding this one moment for you and Wednesday alone.

For a split second, where she allowed herself the luxury of only existing in your presence, Wednesday wondered if this is what real love felt like. She took in a deep breath, feeling your perfume as she did so before focusing her gaze on your joined hands; they fit well together.

"I used to ask myself why I was the one who kissed you first that day." Wednesday hesitated, nagging on the inside of her cheek with her teeth, "and I realized that it's because you make me feel something I never- hardly ever feel when around other people."

Her eyes glanced up at you in a lazy motion, only to find that your eyes never left her once. There was a soft smile on your lips, overflowing adoration. Wednesday was sometimes envious of the way you wore your heart on your sleeve so effortlessly.

"It's an annoying feeling really," the raven-haired girl admitted, raising an eyebrow at you, "I wanted to rip it away from me the first time it happened." Her lips hovered open as she heard her own heartbeat, thunderous as ever, "but the one that came in your absence was much worse."

The passage of time felt equally too slow and too fast. You weren't doing anything. Did she do something wrong?

Wednesday tensed when, carefully, you raised a hand to her face. You were tender in the way that you pushed the black strands of hair behind Wednesday's ear, your fingertips lingering and tracing her cheek before you dropped your hand. As if you'd missed touching her too.

And oh you did, if Wednesday knew just how much, she'd probably be all over you already. "I feel it too," you whispered, a secret confession only for her to hear.

"I know we never talked about what we were, and I'm not asking you to," you spoke calmly, "but you really hurt me, Wednesday, at the very least I thought we were friends."

What if I'd like us to be more? What would you say, is that something you'd ever want too?

Before Wednesday could ask any of the questions she was dying to know the answer to, you asked yours first;

"Did you mean that? What you said?"

And the Addams girl figured that this was a more pressing matter anyway.

Wednesday shook her head with urgency, her hand squeezing yours to keep you in place, "it could never be true." She took a step closer, her boots bumping your sneakers, "hurting you, it's the last thing I'd ever want to do, and I apologize that it happened."

The raw honesty of Wednesday's tone was all you needed to hear to let go of her hand in order to cup her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss that spoke more than any of you ever could.

Wednesday grasped onto your waist almost desperately, her hands bunching up your shirt as she glued your body to hers in a nearly bruising grip, dying to feel the most of you that she could manage. She pressed herself into you, her nose brushing your cheek as her soft lips molded with yours; telling you she'd never miss anyone as much as she misses you, that she'd never feel so strongly for someone as she does for you; that she'd have you until death's cold embrace took her.

Your hands traveled from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers mingling with the wisps of hair there. You pressed your lips to each corner of her mouth, bumping your noses as you did so, leaving testimonies of your affection each time your upper lip grazed hers; letting her know that she'd ruined anyone else to you, that you'd never feel for someone else, what you feel for her.

Wednesday pulled back just enough to be able to breathe, her forehead brushing yours as you felt more than heard the shape of her words; "let me make it up to you… Please."

You chuckled, tracing the outline of her lower lip with your thumb. It was reddish and just a little swollen, warm to the touch and it was your fault.

It got you smiling, because you could also feel her own smile under your digit; "gladly."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova

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#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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bingbongsupremacy · 5 months

Text

My Little Secret

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, use of Y/N

Summary: You're scared to tell Eddie you're pregnant.

*Not Proof Read*

Note: Eddie and reader are the same age. Pretend he wasn't held back. Whole thing with Chrissy hasn't happened. Doesn't specify gender.

Stranger Things Masterlist

*****

Well this is perfect.

I stare down at the little while bar in my hands. Two thin likes stare back, mocking my mixed emotions.

What the fuck am I going to do? I shouldn't have let things go so far at Steve's party. I knew the fucking risk. How could this happen? I didn't think this would happen. What am I going to do?

What am I going to tell Eddie?

He doesn't want a kid...not now anyway. Fuck, this messes up everything. We can't afford a baby. How are we going to take care of it?

I begin to pace in the cramped bathroom. With every moment that passes, the room begins to feel more and more cramped, claustrophobic.

A thumping sound bounces off the walls from outside. Eddie's home.

Eddie's van shuts off with one last whine, the door shutting shortly after. I hear the keys jingle as he tries to open the front door of his trailer. " Babe? Ya here? "

I don't respond. I quickly grab the box the pregnancy came in and hide it at the bottom of the garbage can. I need to figure something out. I can't tell Eddie.

A knock breaks me out of my thoughts. I turn on the water, quickly washing my hands, hoping to relieve some of the nerves.

" Y/N? Why didn't you answer, babe. I thought you were still at work or something. " Eddie asks. " You feelin' okay? "

I swing open the door, pulling a smile onto my face. " Yeah, perfect. Just...lost in thought. " I push past Eddie, doing my best to act normal.

I'll figure this out. I have to.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, not completely believing me. " Okay...Do you want to watch a movie? I can order a pizza. " He offers, trailing after me.

I walk around the counter, picking my worn jacket and backpack up. " I actually, have to head out. My mom um needs help with the yard. " I lie.

A look of confusion flashes on Eddie's face. " Oh, okay...maybe another time? "

I nod stiffly. " Of course, Eds. You know how much I love our movie nights. "

I head towards the door.

" Do you want a ride? It's getting a little cold out. " Eddie offers, pulling on his jacket.

I shake my head. " I'm fine. A little fresh air never hurt anyone. " I attempt to joke.

I just need to get out of here. I feel like I'm suffocating.

Eddie looks unsure. " Are you sure? I really don't mind driving you. I don't want you to get hurt. "

" Eddie, I'm fine. " I insist. " It's only a few blocks away. Nothing is going to happen to me. "

Eddie follows me to the door. " Okay, okay. Just...call me when you get home, yeah? Just so I feel better. "

" Of course. " I pat his arm instead of our usual goodbye kiss. I don't hesitate to step outside. The chilly wind sends a shiver through my body, but I quickly ignore it. I need some time to think. I can't do that if Eddie's talking to me the entire ride home. Plus he'll see my mom's not home.

I feel Eddie's gaze follow me down the street, obviously worried about me. As soon as I turn the corner I feel a sigh of relief escape my lips.

I will be okay. I have to be.

______

I've been avoiding Eddie. I feel like he knows. Like he can read me. He hasn't said anything, but the more I'm with him the more tempted I am to tell him. I'm scared. I don't know how to do this. I haven't even told my mom.

Fuck, she'd kill me. She's warned me about this ever since I started dating Eddie years ago. Why didn't I listen?

All it takes is one time, she'd insist. One time.

She'd never let me forget this. I can already see the look of disappointment on her face. She already doesn't like Eddie. Knowing he's the father would definitely make things worse.

" Okay, what's going on with you. "

Eddie's voice asks sternly as he slides into an empty chair next to me.

The library is empty except for the older librarian shelving books in the corner. Everyone's gone home for the day, leaving the room absolutely quiet.

I raise my eyes to meet Eddie's concerned ones. " What? " I ask in surprise, not expecting him to be here. I thought he had a meeting right now.

" Why have you been avoiding me? " He asks. Desperation peaks through his steady voice. " What did I do? " He reaches to grab my pencil clad hand.

I tense slightly. " Nothing. You didn't do anything, Eddie. " I mutter, looking down at my science home work.

" Then why won't you look at me? You've blown me off all week, what's going on? Please, just tell me what I did and how I can fix it. I miss you. " His tone is genuine. Worry is laced through his features.

I clench my jaw, sadness clustering in my throat. " Eddie, I swear, you didn't do anything wrong. I've just been...busy. I have a lot of tests coming up. " Not a lie. The amount of tests this week on top of the news of the baby has been stressing me out. I hardly have time to sleep, I spend most of my time studying and stressing over what to do.

Eddie scans my face for a sign of a lie. " Look, I don't think I believe that's all. When you're ready to talk about it, you know where to find me. " Eddie pulls his hand away from mine, the warmth of his skin quickly being replaced by the the cold air. He stands up, ready to leave.

" Eddie..." I start, unsure what to say.

Eddie turns back to me, hope in his eyes. He waits for me to say something.

I don't.

" I'm sorry. " I whisper.

Eddie nods, turning back around. " I'm sorry too. For whatever I did. " With that he leaves. His steady footsteps disappear into the hallway. His expression burns into my mind. Sadness, slight frustration.

I didn't mean to make him feel this way. I just don't know what to do.

With a sigh I glance down at my stomach. I haven't begun to show yet, thankfully. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I start. I can only wear baggy clothing for so long. It's getting harder and harder to hide the morning sickness. With only one bathroom, my mom's bound to find out sometime.

I'm so scared.

______

A loud knock pulls me from the laundry. I leave my spot on the couch. Rain pounds on the front glass windows, blocking my view from outside.

Who the hell would be out here in weather like this?

I open the door, fully ready to tell the person to fuck off.

I'm met with the sight of a drenched Eddie. His eyebrows twisted in anger and frustration. He's soaked from head to door, water pooling at the bottom of his sneakers. In his hand is a familiar pink box, bold lettering smudged from the water.

The test.

" I can explain- " I begin, my heart pounding in fear.

He found it.

" Why the hell didn't you tell me. " Eddie cuts me off, his fist tightly around the now squished box. Water's soaked through the thin cardboard, turning it to near mush. He pushes past me, into the quiet house.

" Eddie...I...I'm so sorry. " Tears sting the back of my eyes. " I...I don't know what to say. "

Eddie's anger seems to twist into frustration. " Why didn't you tell me, y/n. " He repeats.

" I was scared. " I close the door, leaning against it for support. All the harbored stress and fear comes barreling out. My fluctuating hormones feed the fire, making everything fucking worse. " How did you find it? "

I know how he found it. I should've hid it fucking better.

" I was taking out the trash when I heard a rattle. I figured you might have dropped something in it and I pulled it out. That's beside the point, Y/N. You kept this from me. When were you planning of fucking telling me? " Eddie's voice is still strong with frustration as he paces around the hall.

" I was going to- " I begin.

" When?! You don't talk to me anymore, when the fuck were you going to tell me? I shouldn't have to find out like this. "

He's right. I should have told him.

Eddie's eyes snap towards me. His expression seems to soften when he realizes I'm crying. " Fuck. " He breathes out, putting his fingers tightly on the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. " I'm sorry. " He says slightly calmer. " I shouldn't have yelled at you. Fuck, I'm a horrible person. Who the fuck screams at their pregnant partner? " He clenches his jaw in frustration.

" No. " I shake my head, trying to push past my emotions. " You're not at fault here. I should've told you. You deserved to know. " I take a breath. " I was a coward. Eddie...I was scared of what would happen. To us, to the baby...with my mom. I was scared you wouldn't want the baby....wouldn't want me. "

Eddie's eyes open to look at me. " You were scared of me? Of us? Y/N, what did you think I was going to do? I love you, fuck you're the first person I've ever loved this much. " He admits. He takes a step towards me. Dripping strands of hair frame the sides of his face. " You couldn't do anything to make me stop loving you. I will always be there for you, no matter what. You didn't get pregnant alone, Y/N. In case you forgot, it takes two to make a baby. I'm as responsible for the baby as you are. You didn't need to keep this to yourself. "

I don't say anything.

He's right. Deep down I knew he'd still be there for me. I guess I was just afraid of what would happen if I wasn't right.

Eddie grabs my hand. " I love you and I love this baby. Nothing will ever stop that. I hate that you felt alone this entire time. That you where scared of what I would do. I never wanted you to feel like that. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. "

I hug him tightly, not caring about the water soaking in my pj's. " I'm sorry for not telling you. I...I shouldn't have doubted you. "

Eddie hugs me back. " We need to talk about this. "

" Yeah. " I nod, pulling my head away from his warm chest. " We do. "

--------

Eddie finishes drying the ends of his curly hair before speaking. " What should we do. "

" I have no idea. " I sigh. " My mom's going to kill me. " I begin to feel tears well in the back of my eyes. " She'll throw me out, I fucking know it. "

Eddie pulls me into his side. " Hey, hey. It's going to be okay. No matter what, I'll be right by your side when she finds out. We'll tell her together. You can...you can live with me. "

I shake my head. " I can't do that, Eddie. I can't do that to Wayne. He already sleeps on the couch. I don't want him to have to deal with a crying baby at all hours of the night. That's not fair to him. "

" Then we'll find a place to be together. I'm not letting you go homeless, Y/N. I'll-I'll get another job. The diner on Corner street is hiring. I can find a place for us before the baby...and Mrs. Thomas is selling her daughters' old crib, I'm sure she'll sell it to us for a decent price! I can sell my guitar and-"

" Eddie...no. " I put my hand on his arm. " That guitar means everything to you. You can't sell it. Plus, we're still in school. How the hell are you going to manage 2 jobs and school? "

Eddie's expression is serious. " YOU mean everything to me. This baby....it means everything to me. I'll do whatever I have to so you and this baby have a safe place to live. I can get my GED. We'll be okay. " Eddie's thumb traces circles on my thigh, an attempt to calm me down.

I know the argument is useless. Once he makes up his mind, it's set. " Don't do anything yet. We don't know what's going to happen. Let's just take this one day at a time. "

Eddie nods. " When are you going to tell your mom? "

" Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow. " She's going to find out some day, and I'd rather it be from me.

Tomorrow it is.

#stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #fanfic writing #yn #x yn #x y/n #x you #reader #x reader

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

Note

can i request crack headcanons with the acotar men where reader is jealous and calls them slut🧎‍♀️🤞 imagine he walks close to a girl and then come to reader and she says

” wow would u look at that, the slutty one is finally here”

Bat boy sluts

A/n: this is the same situation for all of them: reader saw the boys talking to another female in Velaris and she didn’t go and say hi. She just went home waiting to yell at him.

Rhysand

Rhys would never ever think of another female in that way bc he’s with you, there’s no need you’re everything to him

He’s a man of the people, all of his people love him and he would never not talk to a citizen of Velaris

But when you saw him speaking to another female your jealousy got the best of you

You stomped all the way home muttering to yourself

You waited in his armchair with your arms crossed until he came home

When he saw you he didn’t notice you were mad. He stopped halfway across the living room, “darling what’s wrong?”

“Oh you’re done being a slut?”

Rhys would be so confused until he looked in your mind and he’d burst out laughing

Cassian

You’d avoid him all morning after you saw him to keep him on edge

You weren’t really mad at him you just wanted to see his reaction

Cass finally cornered you in the kitchen in the afternoon

“Well, well, well,” you drawled, “the town slut is home.”

Cassian would be so taken aback, he’d sputter and say, “I-we, she was just saying hi and thank you, I…”

Then you started laughing at him

That’s when he realized you were playing with him

Azriel

Azriel’s shadows would notice you in the city

They’d make him aware you were staring at him and the stranger

You started walking away and Az would run after you

Once he caught up to you he would beg you to let him explain

“Baby, please, she’s just a stranger at the vendors cart.”

You would turn to him trying not to smile bc you knew how much he hated attention (you do too but this would be hilarious)

You just stopped in the middle of the street and pointed at him yelling, “slut!”

And ran off to the house

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #azriel x you #cassian fanfic #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #rhysand acotar #rhysand imagine #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you

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cloudshuffle · 23 days

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bon appetit. yan!acheron and black swan

Somewhere down the line, Acheron and Black Swan had made an alliance.

It was a strange thing, really, and something no one had ever expected. Even stranger, maybe, was what they formed an alliance over. Or who. Not that you knew about this.

You find yourself seated across from Acheron and Black Swan at a round table, shaded by a funny little umbrella as if the weather ever soured in the Golden Hour. Acheron has her chin in her head. Black Swan selects a menu with an elegant finger.

Both of them are staring into your soul.

At least it sure feels that way. You shift self-consciously in your seat. Acheron might be trying to absorb your cells through the power of her vision. Black Swan... maybe trying to x-ray your wallet and see how much you were carrying. You couldn't really tell - reason enough to avoid that weirdo called Aventurine.

"So, darling, what do you want to have?" Black Swan asks sweetly, resting a hand lightly onto yours. You wriggle out from under it, going to take the menu from her as an excuse.

"Errr." You run a finger quickly down the list. In truth, feeling both women's gazes on you, you can barely breathe let alone make a decision. But at least you've been here often enough to know what you like. "Maybe just a Floatdisc Burger."

"Oh." Black Swan sounds disappointed, somehow. Acheron shifts her gaze away for the first time since you'd sat down.

"I'll go order," Acheron volunteers, to your surprise. She gets up, elegantly concise, and walks off.

You can feel the weight of Black Swan's gaze on you again, and finally you can't stand it anymore. "What are we doing here?"

She seems surprised at the question. "Doing? Why, can't friends hang out and enjoy the view?"

She gestures out at glittering, glowing Penacony. Revellers mill like tiny ants in the streets, their laughter and chatter drifting up to you both.

You swallow down a bitterness in your chest, though you can't pinpoint why.

You'd met Acheron first, wandering the halls of the Reverie, looking clearly lost. She'd frozen upon seeing you, trying - and failing - to pretend that she didn't need any help, but you'd ended up taking her to the lobby anyway. A mysterious figure, certainly, but she'd struck you as kind in some way, and you'd both parted ways amiably.

Then you'd bumped into Black Swan on the street soon after meeting Acheron.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she'd said in that musical voice of hers, reaching out a gentle hand to steady you. With the veil over her head, she looks more like an ethereal angel than an enjoyer of the Golden Hour. But the two of you part ways too with no further incident.

Acheron seeks you out again a few days later - on purpose this time, waiting in the lounge near your suite. This time she isn't lost but she pretends she is, and it's so amusing that you go along with it and take her around Golden Hour to see the sights.

Then you both chance upon Black Swan during your outing, and from then on, you could say, was history.

Acheron returns from the counter. "The food might take a while. It's pretty crowded in there."

She looks from your face, to Black Swan's, your head turned aside and your lips pressed into a thin line. Black Swan blinks innocently at her.

"What? What were you guys talking about?"

#cloud writes #yandere #yandere acheron #yandere black swan #acheron #black swan #hsr #hsr x reader #star rail #honkai star rail #penacony

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millie-multifics · 26 days

Text

Though I Yearn • Part 5

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Gossip, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, singular use of a petname.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Masterlist Previous Next

x x x

After Douglass had made a big fuss, words of the letters had spread across Thorpe Abbotts like wild fire. Everyone was pointing their fingers at possible culprits, bringing the once quiet situation to absolute chaos. It had been weeks since a letter had arrived, the writer forced into hiding from the attention. The men had gone to Africa, their numbers dwindling on the journey, a few notable losses were Curt and Dickie. Replacements had arrived- you held such a hatred for that word.

You craved your own peace more and more as the days passed by. You had found a spot in the empty field passed the runways that was void of people, Lemmons crew left you alone.

“What are you doing out here?” Blakely’s boots crunced the weeds as he approached, his shadow blocking the sun from your eyes as they fluttered open.

“It’s usually quiet out here,” Your tone was teasing, “No questions, accusations or chatter. Just the birds, the breeze and occasionally the hum of a few planes. What are you doing out here?”

“You’ve got mail.”

You sat upright, brushing blades of grass from where they stuck to your dress. “New duty, Blakely?”

“You know you can call me Everett, I’d like to think we are friends of some sort.” He huffed as he handed over the mail. Three envelopes: one from home, one with a return adress of New York City and finally a new letter that was missing a return adress.

“Did Douglass send you out here? Since he is ever so concerned that he couldn’t help himself but to corner me in front of atleast half the company.”

“Carrier said they hadn’t seen you all day, entrusted me with your mail but you really ought to talk to Dougie, he feels terrible for bringing you attention like that.”

“I believe Lieutenant Dye’s celebration is underway, I thought you would be there?” You changed the subject, avoiding Blakely’s words just as you had been avoiding the man they were about.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you later on, save me a dance?”

You sent him a nod of agreement, waiting for him to be out of sight before turning your attention to the letters he had delivered.

You read the letter from home first, it was filled with the ususal wishes for your wellbeing and updates on events or gossip that you had missed. You did not recognize the loopy femine cursive on the envelope adressed from New York and it felt very thin between your fingertips. You open the flap, revealing only a single photograph inside. A man and woman in a busy street, he was handsome in his dress greens and she donned a plain yet elegant wedding gown… but it was not just a photograph of two strangers. Your fingertips gently ran over the mans face, absorbing his features as this was the first time you had set eyes on him since he had left you broken hearted on his porch not quite a year ago. There was a date written on the back of the picture, August 20 1943.

Despite the deep ache in your chest from the photograph, a spark of excitment filled you as you opened the third envelope. There had been a drought of letters from your Secret Admirer since the secret flooded the base, you had missed reading his words more than you had liked to admit.

“I did not intend to draw such attention and for that I must apologize. I have come to the conclusion if any of the men were to find out that these clandestine correspondence were written by me, I would be heckled for my aberrant ways. I am not perceived as a romantic, many see me to be brash and arrogent but since I met you I have been reformed. I feel a fool to be so cowardess with my affections while the possibility of death looms so heavily but I fear my mind over heart mentality will not crumble.”

Your mind spun, it was someone unexpected but who? With each letter you felt more more drawn to his words and your eagerness to discover the identity of the writer grew.

You clutched the recent letter and the photograph to your chest as you lay in the field, unbothered by the setting sun.

Hours had passed, the field had been swallowed by darkness but your body felt too heavy to move under the weight of the papers on your chest. The quiet yet rough trampling of the tall grass behind you alerted you to a new presence.

“If Blakely told you I was out here then he can find himself another dance partner.” You spoke loudly, nearly startling the man as he had not seen your silhoutte on the ground in the darkness, despite actively searching for you.

“That is a shame.”

The voice was unexpected, you honestly had expected it to be Douglass or DeMarco, maybe even Blakely with the intention of dragging you to the party but surely not Major Egan.

“Major, I thought you would be at Dye’s celebration?” Your eyes found his through the darkness as he now towered over you.

“I could say the same for you. Blakely mentioned you were out here earlier but when you failed to show at the party some of the men got worried. I volunteered to come check on you, I don’t think it’s safe to be out here in the dark like this.”

“I would hate to damper the celebration.”

“It got dampered anyway, sweetheart,” He moved to lay on the ground next to you, unbothered by any stains the grass may leave on his uniform, “By the men we have lost and the men we will lose.”

It was quiet for awhile, both enjoying the silent company of another person, unaware of the battling thoughts happening in the others brain. Your worries felt silly compared to his, he had lost friends and men under his command, you briefly wondered if he had volenteered to find you to escape the ghosts of them at the party.

It was silent for a moment before the Major spoke again, “The stars sure are pretty out here.”

Your eyes searched around the clouds, only a few bright stars visable in the dark of the night. “When they peek out of the clouds anyway.”

“Are you alright?”

The genuine concern in his question had taken you off guard. You took a second to debate how much you were willing to share with the Major as every aspect of your life had been previously aired, but remembered divulging a little to him before Dougie had brought attention. You handed the Major the photo you had recieved, glancing over as he angled it under the moonlight to see it clearly. “Before the war, it was all him, he was the one I would marry and bare my soul to. Suddenly everything changed, he had enlisted and just a week before our wedding I discovered that he was being unfaithful. I was foolishly willing to forgive him but he chose her, now they are married and I am here; my lonely soul wondering what is next for me, if my soulmate is out there somewhere or perhaps I am just unlucky and he won’t make it through this war so I shall forever be alone.”

You swallowed harshly, washing the thickness from your throat as your eyes burned looking up at the stars.

“What of your writer?” Egan returned the picture, his eyes scanning your face as the grass fanned your cheeks in the soft night breeze.

“How am I supposed to call someone mine if I don’t even know their name?” You sighed, heavily as if to lesson the weight, “I wish I could tell him that he makes the ache in my heart bearable.”

x x x

@jointherebellion215 @orchiidflwer

#masters of the air #mota fanfic #mota #mota spoilers #bucky egan #curtis biddick #apple tv #everett blakely #james douglass #john brady #major gale cleven #gale cleven #austin butler #john bucky egan #callum turner #major john bucky egan #major john egan

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howtheworldcouldb · 2 years

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Billy Batson Gets Adopted AU, but the adopter he’s avidly avoiding is Lex Luthor.

When Lex first heard of Captain Marvel, he was… unenthused, to put it lightly. Another Kryptonian? It was bad enough when that second one, “Supergirl” had entered the superhero stage; Lex had few hopes for the appearance of a third. Superman even paid Fawcett a visit, and Lex’s grim worries were all but sealed. Except… he started hearing rumors. Different rumors, of the world’s “Mightiest Mortal”. Of a man, human and magic and power, who could stand up against Superman and maybe come out on top. A match. A defense. A man Lex most certainly wanted on his side.

Which turned out to be difficult, since Marvel was impossible to get ahold of. He was nowhere. Sure, he showed up to every disaster, every moment of peril and sign of distress, but he never stayed. He was there precisely long enough to get the job done, and not a second later. It was irritating. It was infuriating. It was giving Lex a migraine. Even Batman, you could occasionally catch at crime scenes or flag down on the rooftops of Gotham, not that Lex had ever tried—Gotham was a beast best avoided. But Marvel? Nothing. At least when he was battling his rogues gallery you could see him flying through the streets, but on his off time? It was like the man stopped existing. Lex Corp’s agents couldn’t find hide of hair of him. The man didn’t respond to public requests for contact, nor any of the more discreet methods Lex and employed. It was astounding. And Lex did not like astounding. He liked answers, and he liked aces in his pocket, and neither of those things would matter if he couldn’t get the Big Red Cheese to talk to him. So he sent Mercy to investigate. To either get Marvel on their side, or get the idiot to speak to them. Mercy marched into his office two weeks later with no contact point, no progress, and a video. a video of a man, a flash of lightning, and then a small, malnourished child.

“Ah,” Lex thought. “Ah.”

So. Captain Marvel was an orphaned, homeless ten year old with inexplicable powers and absolutely zero support system.

Lex was going to steal him.

Steal wasn’t quite the right word, since everything Lex was doing would be completely legal and above-board. Unorthodox, sure, but he had far more than enough money to make it happen in a way that even Big Blue couldn’t dispute. An application, some pressure and a few favors, and suddenly Lex Luthor was a registered foster parent. Now all he needed to do was find the child and ensure he ended up in his care

Billy doesn’t know what the hell is going on or why Lex Corp is suddenly flooding the streets of Fawcett, but he figures this is as good an excuse as any to punch a billionaire in the face

Que several thousand words of Kevin McAllister level evasion tactics, tomfuckery, stranger danger, weaponized baby face, (attempted) manipulation, a very confused and concerned League, telling Superman to fuck off for wildly different reasons, identity shenanigans, and the slow, begrudging mutual understanding and sort-of respect that Billy and Lex are furious is happening

(Luthor and Billy are locked in a battle of wills and guile while the League stands there like “is Luthor… trying to kidnap a child?? Marvel, are you doing anything about this?? We can help, this seems like a multiple hero situation—“ and Marvel is very nicely telling them to mind their own fucking business. They do not. Billy is mad at everyone except Cyborg, who let Billy know he was coming to Fawcett ahead of time)

#billy batson #shazam!#shazam #dc captain marvel #fawcett #fawcett city #lex luthor #mercy graves #Billy Batson gets adopted au #superman #clark kent #the justice league #justice league

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solargeist · 3 months

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Imagine with me, if you will; two small children walking along a street in some town who's name has long since been forgotten. The older of the two couldn't be more than five years old, holding his younger sister as they avoid most of the heavier traffic. The smaller of the two had shoes while the larger is walking barefoot. Regardless about the lack of shoes, the child had his sister on his back piggyback style. It's getting dark and the are some safer alleys not too far ahead.

A Watcher stands in the shadows, doing as Watchers do; Watching. Both children held strong potential in them (as all children do) and they walk past where the Entity stood without so much as blinking up at Her. The Watcher observed as the elder of the siblings moved nimbly down the street; skillfully avoiding taller legs and shoes as his own feet slapped quietly along the cobblestone street.

After a moment of deliberation, the Watcher left Her place in the shadows to pursue the children. She followed behind them a few paces, unseen by the world as she fluttered through them like a ghost. The child eventually turned turned down a side road to take the pair out of sight. Of course, nothing was out of Sight for Her.

She watched as the elder carefully lowered the younger onto the ground before turning around towards the entrance of the alley. The child puffed his chest out slightly, talking a big breath and, to the surprise of the Watcher, addressed Her. "What do you want?"

Now that was intriguing. The Watcher's form shifted, shrinking down a few inches as well as moving to crouched down to be eye level with the child. "I am Watching, child. Can you see me?"

"Well duh. I could see you follow us down the last three blocks," the child made a face under all the grime on his cheeks. Hard brown eyes the color of deep earth glared at the Watcher under what must have been a mousy brown. "I don't like it. Do it somewhere else."

"However, you two are alone out here, are you not?" She gestured a long fingered hand covered in wrapped rags towards where the smaller girl was curled up, asleep on the folded cardboard her brother had put her down on.

"Yes and we are fine." The boy almost barked at Her, with a voice so young and so full with venom.

She tilted her head at the child she spoke to. "What have you planned for dinner tonight?"

The child shifted on his bare feet, eyes glancing almost guiltily towards a dumpster farther in the alley before they turned back to the Watcher. "That is none of your business, lady. I suggest you mind it."

The Watcher laughed, the sound echoing slightly out of sync in the child's ears. He flinched slightly at the unfamiliar sound. She opened her outer robe just enough to reach inside the pitch black lining. The child watched her intently as Her hand disappeared from view. His young face didn't change as she pulled out a chorus fruit. "What is that?"

"Food." The Watcher said, Her voice as soothing as possible. Her hands broke apart the outer purple part of the fruit, much like how a cauliflower florets were so packed together, to reveal the soft white inner flesh. "I am sure you don't get much fresh fruit out here."

"It looks weird." The child snapped at her as his small grubby hand went to grip the front of his shirt, right in front of his belly.

"Perhaps to you, yes." The Watcher pulled apart a smaller slice before offering it towards the child. "But it needn't stay a stranger."

The child hesitated, eyes sharp between the food, hand, and where the Watcher's face would be if She had it visible. All he could see of Her was shadow. "Y you eat a bit first."

She wordlessly pulled Her hand back and broke off another small bit of flesh and lifted it to where he couldn't See her mouth. Personally, chours fruit was almost too sweet for Her. Like a sweet and spicy candied ginger. She pulled her hand back and then offered the now slightly smaller bit of fruit to the child. If eaten in slow enough, it would not cause the random teleport that it was so famous for.

He didn't hesitate now knowing it was safe, but he still was careful to take the fruit from Her bandaged hand. The Watcher was even more pleasantly suprised that he was able to interact with the fruit. As soon as the child had his hands full of fruit, he stepped away again to take a bite of the soft inner white. He made a slight face at the flavor.

Somewhere else, She smiled. "Good, yes?"

"It is a little... spicy?" He asked it like a question but ate another strip of flesh.

"That is a good word," the Watcher nodded. "Where will you two stay tonight?"

"Here? Probably." He concluded after a moment. "I think it is going to rain tonight and there is a bit of overhang roof back here. Might be able to stay mostly dry."

The Warcher hummed, using her hands to continue to break the chours fruit apart. She Watched him as he finished with the white part of the fruit and started on the thicker purple outside. The pith of the fruit, while still edible, was not as flavorful as on the inside. She like that part a bit more.

Once the boy was done, She offered him another bit of flesh. He took it again, no hesitation this time and took it to his sister to eat. The girl had sat up groggy, but took the fruit her brother gave her. She did not look towards the Watcher at all.

"How about you come home with me? Just for the night."

Her higher ups might have words for Her, but honestly was sure that Their anger with Her would be dissuaded upon realising this human appearing child Saw Her.

The boy frowned. "Why should we?"

"The rain." The Watcher said easily. "Do you not fear the thunder, child?"

"No." He said firmly, puffing his chest out again. It made Her think of a small bird puffing up to appear larger than it was.

"Of course not." She said smoothly. "And for the little one with you."

This cause the child to shift slightly. "She will handle it tonight. We've gotten through it before."

"I am sure you have. However, I offer you an actual bed and a better meal than fruit "

He hesitated. "Just for tonight?"

"Of course."

He thought it over. She could almost see the little gears in his human mind grinding away and She was almost tempted to look, but She didn't have time to before he nodded. "Okay. Just for tonight."

The Watcher nodded Her head and stood from her crouched position and glided over to them. The boy picked up his sister as she chewed on the outer peel. "Would you like me to hold her, sunrise?"

"Sunrise?" He asked confused. The confusion carried over as she held out the rest of the fruit. The Warcher took the still sleepy three year old in exchange for the fruit.

"Nevermind the name, child. Just a pet name." The Watcher held out a hand again to the child once She got the toddler settled. The little girl, once being held by the Watcher, had seemed to perk up and looked at the Entity in young confusion. The Watcher ignored her and offered a newly freed hand to the older child.

He took it and with the sound of an enderman whoop and a few partials, the trio were gone. All that was left was the outer bit of chorus fruit that the little girl didn't finish.

-Phantom

THÉ SIBLING EVER 😭😭

im getting way too attached to a motherly Watcher wuwghudug her bébés…

#ask #SRY IM ANSWERING SO LATE I’m a slow reader #her defending the kids like ur honour . look at their chubby cheeks.#family AUs rly do get me by the throat #watcherfamilyau

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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Here for DG crumbs 🥹

with a non fighter, average reader like she is average and doesn't have much that stands out to her and is a dg simp. She simps hard for this man. Not a toxic or psycho fan but a supportive one

It would make my day if you could do this really! We need more dg content!!🤧

Oh right! it could be James with an average non fighter s/o as well

Thank you for reading ❤️

Ask and ye shall receive, here's a strangers to lovers (which turned out quite lengthy...)! Did this fandom just make me like DG? This plain noodle man?!

DG x Reader: Stranger to Lovers

Half fic, half hc. A normal reader comes across DG

DG came across you on one of his lonelier nights.

He knows he shouldn't be reading articles and posts trashing him, but curiosity killed the cat.

His ego is feeling uncharacteristically bruised until he comes across your comment.

You're sweet, supportive and understanding of how hard it can be in the public eye. It cheers him up that some fans still see him as human.

He takes note of your social media name but doesn't take it any further.

Fate brings you together at a fan event (actually no, your meet and greet tickets did) but the first thing that draws DG to you is your eye contact.

He's met many fans and almost all of them avoided looking at him and were giggly and shy. It's to be expected. You are the first one that looked at him squarely head on.

You didn't go crazy or ask for a lock of his hair (like some of the other more wild fans), but thanked him for what he doing in the industry.

You're articulate even as pink dusts your cheeks.

And then you kept talking and you repeat what he read that night.

He files away that info for later.

When DG finally has his moment of peace, he quickly taps in that username in the hopes that it's you.

It is.

The same person in the profile pic that posted the kind comment is also who he met mere hours ago.

It brings a little smile to his face.

Another lonely night, without any practice schedules, PTJ Entertainment issues or James Lee loose ends meant DG had time on his hands.

He's spent enough time looking through your profile and posts over the past couple weeks, whenever he could grab a minute here or there.

You're pretty normal in every sense of the word, a world removed from DG and James Lee.

He couldn't stop thinking about the idea of you.

Biting the bullet, and using a pseudonym, he sends you a message - starting a conversation based on something you last posted about.

He receives a reply within the next 20 minutes and that was that.

The hours turn into days turn into weeks turn into months.

DG finds himself stealing time so he could respond back to you.

He lets you in on vague details about his life and you tell him all about yours.

In another life, he thinks he could have been similar to you. Normal. With normal hobbies and interests. Normal issues and headaches. Normal family and normal friends.

A normal past and normal future.

You're a golden ray of truth and light cutting through his secrecy and darkness.

DG finds himself wearing a coy smile more and more from your interactions, from your late night 3am messaging and your 'good mornings' and everything inbetween.

It doesn't go unnoticed. To the extent that rumours float around that he has found a special someone. He abruptly and coldly shoots that down.

But unable to hold back anymore, one morning he asks if you want to meet up.

DG knows how it sounds: meeting a stranger (a strange man). But he feels a bond with you, one he's never had before, and hopes you feel the same way.

The minutes until your response dragged and stretched.

Until you finally put 'Ok'.

He could feel your hesitation across the screen. Usually so full of life and excitement and emotion, this simple one worded response isn't like you.

He backtracks but you're now the one insisting.

A date and location is set.

In a quiet coffee shop, set away from the main street but popular enough to not be too secluded, DG finally meets you in person again.

Did he truly think you were normal the first time he met you? How odd.

Because now he finds you radiant, beaming, glittering. Like sunshine, like moonlight.

Anything but normal.

He calls you over, and your eyes light up as you go to meet him.

You greet him by his username, but freeze when he pulls his mask down. That face would be recognised by all of Seoul.

"DG?!"

This meet up doesn't last long.

You flee in embarassment, having spilled all your secrets to one of the most famous man in South Korea as he kept his identity and life hidden away from you.

DG understands how you must how felt, the mortification. And the deception as he hid the biggest secret from you most of all.

He sits with his head in his hands.

DG doesn't hear from you for a few days, and the distance and silence feels cavernous.

It hits him like a truck that over time, you became his confidant, his best friend. Someone he could talk to and feel like a person.

He is the first one to reach out and he apologises.

He says what he can about his life, his current life. Hoping that this makes it up to you somehow.

That he promises to be truthful to you, where he can, but there are still some things he's not ready to say.

That he understands you feeling betrayed he kept his identity secret, especially during all those times you unknowingly gushed about how much you liked him.

That even though it was fair to keep his identity a secret, he should have told you as soon as it was appropriate. A lot sooner than at the cafe.

That this was something he started because of his ego, but continued because he likes you.

That he's never felt this closeness with anyone else.

That he's not sure if anyone has ever seen him properly as a person. Until you.

That he would like a second chance. Please.

Hope against hope, you eventually respond.

You ask to meet again in the same place.

In a quiet coffee shop, set away from the main street but popular enough to not be too secluded, DG meets you in person for the third time.

DG waits, anxiously fiddling with a bouquet of roses. He never does this.

You enter, and illuminate the room.

This time DG calls you over, and you give him a shy smile

He presents the bouquet, and you accept.

You become the starlight guiding and comforting him during the lonely nights.

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #lookism fanfics #lookism fic #diego kang #kang dagyum #dg x reader #lookism dg #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #james lee #james lee x reader #wannaeatramyeon #kang dagyeom

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once-upon-an-imagine · 11 months

Text

I Wanna Dance with Somebody - Eddie Munson

A/N: aaaahh xD I have no idea how I managed to do this but, I did it! hahaha I hope you loves like it!! :D this is based on this request and also this post! :)

Request - Anonymous: omg heyyy so i would like to request a eddie dialogue if they’re still open! one where maybe the reader and him are out in the mall together as a newly couple. people keep giving them weird stares and some even make comments just because the reader is a prep. eddie gets upset and insecure about it then reader comforts him too make him feel better and that’s pretty much it :)

Warnings: both Eddie and reader feeling insecure, mentions of sex (kinda) Jason and his friends being complete assholes, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger things :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I Wanna Dance with Somebody

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me

Eddie Munson could still remember the first time he ever made you laugh. He would always describe it to you as his favorite sound in the entire world. He smiled to himself as he looked at you talking about something. He was definitely not paying attention while you scribbled away in your notebook and he sat resting against the headboard of his bed, strumming his guitar softly.

“Eddie?” you chuckled, looking up at him.

“Yes, princess?”

“Are you even listening to me?” you smirked.

“Of course, I am” he lied.

“Then, what did I say?” you asked, getting up and making your way towards him.

“That you… wanted to give me a kiss” he smiled at you. You chuckled and leaned in to kiss him.

“That’s not what I said” you told him when you pulled away.

“Worth a shot” he shrugged as he pulled you in for another kiss. “What were you saying, sweetheart?”

“I was asking if we could go get some ice cream before I have to go to my dance class?” you smiled. “We can say hi to Robin and Steve” you suggested.

“Of course we can, love” he smiled, giving you another peck on the lips.

You had been dating Eddie for a few months now, and if you were being honest, you had never been happier. The two of you were probably the two most different people in school, but you didn’t care. It started when you were assigned to be Eddie’s tutor. And one day, the two of you were pretty close, one thing led to another, and the two of you were kissing. And then, Eddie asked you out on a date. And the rest was history. Eddie always made you feel special. Even before the two of you started dating when you were just study partners and friends. He remembered little things about you and he noticed when you were having a bad day. He always tried to make you feel comfortable and he loved making you laugh. You fell for him before you could even know what was happening.

“Thanks, love” you smiled as you grabbed your ice cream from him. “Are you sure you can drive me to class? It’s not far from here, I can just walk-”

“Now, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my beautiful girlfriend walk by herself down the street?”

“It’s a only few blocks away, Eddie” you chuckled.

“That’s not the point, dear” he said, grabbing your free hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he did and he pulled you closer, not letting go of your hand.

“Hey, did I tell you what we’re doing today in class?” you asked before you started rambling on about ballet.

Eddie could listen to you talk all day. It was his favorite thing. The way that your face brightened up whenever you talked about something that you were passionate about was something he couldn’t describe. So he tried to pay attention to you. Because he always paid attention to you. But as you two walked through the mall he started glimpsing people looking in your direction. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed.

He’d seen it around school. He saw the way that some girls looked at you as you avoided their table and went straight to the Hellfire table instead. They made some snarky comment or disgusted face, laughing about the whole thing. He noticed the way that some of the jocks would look at you when you would stop talking to them as soon as Eddie appeared and you ran over to hug him instead. The way they would always glare at him for it. As if he wasn’t worthy to have your attention.

And he could see it now. He could feel every person around staring at the two of you and making comments about it. He was used to people looking at him funny because of the way he dressed, how loud he was, and the music he listened to. But he hated that they would do the same thing to you. To judge you just for being with someone like him. He knew what people thought of him. He knew what they saw when they looked at him. He knew you were too good for him but you always made an amazing job at making him forget it or just not care at all.

But something was off today. The more you kept walking together, holding hands, the more people stared at you. He could see their shocked faces. He could hear them laugh or comment about it. When he looked back at you, he realized you were completely oblivious to all of this. You paid no attention to everyone around you, you just kept on talking to him about your excitement for your next class as you kept on eating your ice cream.

“Love?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts and he looked at you, smiling nervously. “Sorry, I was talking too much, wasn’t I?” you said, looking away. “You probably don’t want to hear about this-”

“No, love that’s not true” he insisted. “I love hearing you talk” he said.

“R-really? I know it’s kinda boring and… not at all your thing, I just-”

Eddie was about to cut you off with a kiss, but he suddenly shifted it to your head instead when he felt the eyes of a group of jocks not far from the two of you. Which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“No, love, it’s not boring. I just spaced out” he told you.

“What were you thinking about?” you asked curiously.

“N-nothing, uh-” he stuttered, looking at the jocks who were glaring at him. “We should probably get going, it’s almost time for your class” he smiled.

“Oh… um, okay. Let me just go wash my hands first” you said, walking over to the bathroom.

Eddie smiled wearily at you as he sat down on a bench to wait for you. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. Maybe he was overreacting. He knew what he had with you. He knew you loved him. You showed him in many ways.

“Dude, I told you she was dating that freak!” he heard someone on the other side of the bench.

He turned around and saw the jocks from earlier on the other side of the plant. He knew them from school. Of course, he did. They were the same ones who always taunted him and were always following you like sick puppies when you didn’t even give them the time of day.

“Dude, she can’t be!” he heard another one of them, Andy, say.

“We just saw them holding hands!” the first one, Chance, insisted.

“Maybe she lost some sort of bet” Andy laughed. “There’s no way that she’s voluntarily dating him!”

“Dude, Jason is going to flip when he finds out” the third one, Patrick, added.

“That he chose that loser over him? Yes, he is!” Chance laughed too.

“What do you think she even sees in him?” Patrick chuckled.

“Hey, love” you said, walking towards Eddie and making him jump a little, turning to you. “We still have some time, do you want to go to the record store? I think they have the new Metallica album you were waiting for” you smiled at him.

“Oh” he said, feeling his heart beating faster at the thought of you remember, but then he heard the loud laughter behind him and his heart shattered again. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be late for your class” he told you.

“Um… sure” you smiled. Usually, Eddie loved going to the music shop with you and argue why your music choices were better than his, but you could tell something was off with him. “Is… everything okay?”

“Yeah” he insisted, with a nervous smile. “Let’s go” he said, stepping aside so you could go first instead of holding your hand.

You tried not to think any of it but when you got to Eddie’s van, he didn’t open the door for you. Like he usually did. And on the way to your class, he was unusually quiet, making you anxious. This is how it always started. He wouldn’t look at you, and you could see he was gripping the steering wheel tightly like he did whenever he was upset. So your head started spinning. When he pulled over in front of the ballet studio, he didn’t move. He usually got out of the car, opened the door for you, and walked you in. You felt your heart racing a little and the words came out before you could stop them.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Eddie instantly turned around to look at you. He saw the tears in your eyes and it broke his heart.

“What? Sweetheart, no. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know” you said, quietly. You looked down at your hands and a few tears escaped your eyes. “You have been acting strange today and… you didn’t want to hold my hand and…” you sighed. “Sorry, I’m being stupid” you told him, wiping away your tears.

“No, princess” he sighed, grabbing your hands and turning you to look at him. “I’m sorry” he said, wiping the remaining tears on your cheeks. “I’m the one who’s being stupid. I swear, this has nothing to do with you-”

“W-what’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, love. I promise” he smiled at you.

“Okay” you nodded slowly.

“Hey” he said, softly cupping your cheek. “I love you” he smiled, giving you a peck on the lips.

“I love you too” you said when you pulled away.

“I’ll come pick you up in an hour okay?” he said, grabbing his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

“Okay” you said with a tight lip smile. Not the same bright smile you always had when you looked at him. You kissed his cheek and you stepped out of his van.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Back already, Munson? If I didn’t know better, I said you’re starting to miss us” Steve smirked when Eddie came back to Scoops Ahoy.

“Shut up, don’t flatter yourself, Harrington. I’m here to talk to Buckley” he told him.

“I’m heartbroken” he chuckled as Robin came into view.

“What’s up, dingus?”

“I need your help!”

“Trouble with your lady?” Robin smirked, but it was dropped when she saw the desperate look on Eddie’s face.

“Why is she with me?”

“Excuse me?” Robin asked, confused.

“You heard me. Why is she with me? She could be with anyone she liked, why did she choose me?”

“You mean all those assholes who keep following her around and have a bet to see which one of them she would go out with?”

“They what?” both Steve and Eddie snapped at the same time.

“Yeah, Carver and his friends. You didn’t know?” Robin asked them. “They made a bet to see which one of them could get her to… um… well, you know…” she said.

“What the fuck? Does she know?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, she’s the one that told me about it” Robin shrugged. “She heard them one day at a party. That’s why she doesn’t hang out with them anymore” she explained.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them” Eddie said, feeling his blood boil.

“Eddie, where is this coming from? You’ve been with her for some time now and I know that you have told each other the ‘L’ word so… why are you suddenly questioning your relationship?” Robin asked confused.

“I don’t know, I’m being stupid” he sighed.

“Shocking” Steve smirked at him.

“Today just kind of made it real, you know? I know we are together in school and I see the way everyone looks at us, but today it was even more. I could hear people laughing and commenting on it, like ‘Oh, I can’t believe she’s with that freak!’ and I just… I don’t want her to go through what I go through just for being with me!”

“She doesn’t care about that-”

“Well, maybe she should! She’s too perfect for this world, and I’d hate to think that people are being mean to her for being with someone like me. She’s too good for me. She’s perfect in all her classes, people love her. I mean she's too hot for me!”

“That's true” Steve and Robin said at the same time, earning a glare from Eddie.

“Look, Eddie, at the end of the day, she wants to be with you! She told me she has never felt this way about anyone” Robin admitted.

“But I just don’t get why, Buckley! What does she even see in me?”

“Wow, you're even more of a dingus than Steve” Robin laughed.

“Hey!”

“Eddie, you wanna know why she likes you? Not only does she think you are hot and cute, which, personally I don't see it, no offense" she started. "Every boyfriend she had before you treated her like shit. Like her opinions didn't even matter. Like she was only part of the relationship to please him. They would go on and on about themselves and not even care about what she had to say. But you… you treat her like she's the most precious thing in the world. You always listen to her and you do whatever you can to cheer her up when she's upset. You remember the things she likes and she feels really special when you do. You’re always taking care of her and you make sure that she’s okay. She loves that you’re passionate about the things that you love. She loves that you’re who you are and don’t care what people say about it. She loves that you have a good heart and you show it for the people you care about and she knows she’s number one on your list. And you know the thing she loves most about you? You make her laugh” she explained.

“R-really?” Eddie said, feeling his cheeks blushing a little.

“Yeah, really” Robin said, before smacking him on the head. “Now, go fix whatever you did because you don’t want to prove her wrong, do you?”

“Y-yeah, no! I’m gonna fix this!” he said, excitedly. “Thanks, Buckley! Later, Harrington!”

“You know, you should be a motivational speaker” Steve told Robin.

“I know, dingus!” she smiled back.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You walked out of your class, hoping to find Eddie there already waiting for you. But since class had ended a bit early you were pretty sure you would have to wait for him a while. You didn’t really mind until you saw four familiar guys you wished would just leave you alone.

“Hey, babe, fancy meeting you here” Jason Carver and his friends walked closer to you.

“Um, hi Jason. H-hi guys” you smiled nervously. You didn’t particularly like them but you didn’t want to be rude. You just hoped Eddie would get here already.

“How was your class?” Andy smirked, looking at you up and down. You felt uncomfortable and you pulled Eddie’s jacket closed.

“Fine, thanks” you replied, looking both ways on the street to hope Eddie’s van was coming.

“Looking for someone?” Jason asked, stepping closer to you and blocking your view from the street.

“Yes, I’m waiting for my boyfriend” you said, hoping they would get the hint and leave you alone.

“So, it’s true?” Jason asked you.

“What?”

“You’re dating that freak?” he said, glaring at your jacket and you frowned at him.

“Don’t call him that” you said, trying to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“Why are you with someone like him? You should be with someone who knows how to please a woman” Jason smirked at you.

“Not that is any of your business, but Eddie is ten times the man you’ll ever aspire to be, Jason. If there is someone that knows how to please a woman, it’s him” you smirked back at him.

“I doubt that freak knows how to treat a girl like you” he insisted tightening the grip in your arm.

“Oh, you mean like you and your friends who treat girls like a piece of meat and make bets to see who can sleep with them first?”

“Please, get over yourself, nobody would want you anymore now that you are that freak’s slut-”

“Hey!” you felt relieved when you heard Eddie’s voice and the metal music blasting from his van. Jason and his friends turned around to see him, standing on the sidewalk, glaring at them. Eddie noticed and secretly loved when your upset expression changed once you looked at him. He could see the relief in your eyes. ‘You’re always taking care of her and you make sure that she’s okay.’ He made you feel safe. And he definitely took pride in that. You quickly freed yourself from Jason’s grasp and ran towards your boyfriend, throwing yourself happily into his arms. “You okay, princess?”

“Yes” you said, feeling completely content when he wrapped his arms around you. “Can we go home, please?”

“Of course, love” he smiled, kissing your forehead, before he led you to his van and open the door for you. Once he closed it, he turned to look at the four jocks, glaring at him not believing their eyes.

“You want something, freak?” Jason spat at him, trying to play it cool.

“Seems to me like you want something, Carver” Eddie said walking closer to him. “If you ever touch my girlfriend again, me and my satanic group will make sure that you and your stupid friends don’t ever bother, not just her, but any girl in school, got it?” he smirked as he walked away from them. Before he got into his car, he raised his hands to his head, as if they were horns and stuck his tongue out, spluttering at them, making you laugh inside the car. “Hi, princess” he smiled at you before giving you a small kiss.

“Hi, love” you smiled. “Are these for me?” you asked pointing at the flowers between the seats.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, that’s why I was late. There was a long line and-” you quickly cut him off, pulling him and giving him a passionate kiss.

“I love them” you smiled, once you pulled away. “Thank you” you said, picking them up.

“I wanted to apologize for… earlier” he said, placing his hand behind his neck. “I was being stupid and, I made you upset” he told you. “I just… I saw all these people looking at us weirdly and… laughing and…” he sighed. “I love you so much, and you are the closest thing to perfect for me and I just… I guess I got a bit scared that you would… realize that you’re too good for me, b-because you are! But I never wanted to make you upset and I guess, what I’m saying is that I’m really lucky to be with you, and I love you, and I have no idea what I did to get you or to deserve you but I’m really happy you love a dork like me and I want to make you as happy as you make me” he smiled bashfully at you.

“Eddie” you said, feeling tears in your eyes. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me” you confessed. “I love you so much. And I don’t want you to feel that I’m too good for you because you are also too good for me” you chuckled. “You make me feel so special and I want to do the same for you” you smiled.

“Trust me, princess. You really do” he smiled, pulling you for another kiss. “I… got something else for you, if you want it” he said, grabbing a small box and giving it to you.

“Are you proposing to me?” you mocked him.

“No” he rolled his eyes opening the box. “Here” he said, taking out a silver chain that held one of his rings. Not just one of his rings. His favorite ring.

“Eddie” you smiled brightly at him. “That’s- that’s your favorite one!”

“I want you to have it” he said, placing it on you. “Just so you always have a part of me with you” he smiled as you grabbed it with your hand, admiring how it hung on your neck.

“I love it” you smiled sweetly before pulling him in for another kiss.

“I’m glad you do” he said, kissing your temple. “You wanna get something to eat?”

“Yes, please, I’m starving” you said, as Eddie started the car.

He turned to look at you and couldn’t help but smile at how you looked at your new necklace and the flowers in your hands with the most enamored smile on your face. He did that. He made you this happy and he promised himself he would always do that.

“What?” you felt your cheeks burning when you looked at him.

“Nothing” he shrugged. “I love you” he smiled.

“I love you too” you said, kissing his cheek.

The End

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A/N: I hope you liked it! Steddie’s coming up next :) let me know what you think :D

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot

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ill-skillsgard · 2 years

Text

No Distractions - AU Keith (Barbarian 2022)

Title: No Distractions Warning: 18+ smut, coarse language, alcohol consumption, and mentions of a toxic relationship. Summary: A woman escaping her past finds herself in a double-booked Airbnb, unsure if she can trust the kind stranger she meets there. Note: I won't elaborate on my absence from the fandom in this note, but after watching Barbarian, I absolutely HAD to write the scene we all wished for. This piece has no horror elements and no spoilers for the movie. So, even if you haven't watched it, you may still enjoy this smutty little one-shot I whipped together super quick. A like, comment and mostly, a reblog would really make my day. Come on, Bill fandom. I know you're still breathing!

The flight was one of the worst 3 hours of her life, and the last few weeks had already tested her limits. There was not one but two screaming children on board, her seatmate was a flatulent chatterer, and the frequent turbulence reminded her that she was suspended above the clouds, at nature's mercy.

But those weeks were behind her now. All that remained between her and a clean, warm bed was a keypad which clicked and blinked green after she punched in the 6-digit code.

The apartment was a chilly 66 degrees—much cooler than any place should be in the fall, but the space was larger than the photos on the booking app, so she forgave the frigid temperature and kicked off her shoes. She dropped her bags on the floor and flopped onto the plush, grey sofa. A laminated sheet on the table outlining the renter's rules, the wifi code and a few nearby restaurants hooked her interest just as her stomach rumbled.

Though a hot meal after bland, overpriced airline food sounded like heaven, the fluffy throw pillows and steam-cleaned cushions of the sofa beckoned her. She laid down and soon fell asleep to the sound of sweet, sweet nothing.

As she sank into a dream, the bedroom door opened, and a tall man stepped out into the hall. He entered the living room, first spotted the bags next to the sofa, froze, and looked around for other irregularities. The vibration from a phone startled him, and he peered over the back of the sofa and found a young woman very much asleep. Her mouth was open, a trail of drool seeping from her lips and onto the throw pillow. The phone rumbled and rumbled.

"Um... Hello? Miss? Uh, hey. Wake up."

The girl snorted but did not wake. He leaned over, tapped her on the shoulder once, and then stepped back to avoid flailing limbs. Her eyes rolled under the lids, and when she realized what was happening, she jolted upward with a yelp.

"Who the fuck are you?" She asked.

"Uh, I'm Keith. But um, I think I should be the one asking who you are and why you're in my Airbnb."

"What are you talking about? I'm renting this place."

"That's impossible."

"No, it's not impossible. Look," she said, grabbing her phone off the table and ignoring the several missed calls. As she fumbled for a confirmation email, she dismissed another call. Keith grimaced at the small print on the screen.

"I can't really read that without my glasses," said Keith. "But I believe you. There's obviously been some kind of mistake."

"No shit," she said.

Keith held his hands behind his back and went quiet. She deflated on the sofa with a groan.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I've had a hellish few days, and it's just my luck something like this would happen."

"Let me call these idiots and see what we can do."

She stood and gathered her bags in a hurry. "No, no. I should go. I mean, you were here first. You have dibs."

Keith grabbed her shoulder, and she flinched. He withdrew his hand immediately and stepped away, palms open.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. But we should work this out. And, it's rather late," Keith pointed at the balcony doors and the blackness beyond the pane. "I can't put a lady out on the street. That would be terrible. Let me make the call, and maybe we can figure something out. Or at least get your money back."

"That will still leave me without a place to stay. So, I should probably find a hotel before it's too late."

"Please, I'd like to make this right. Let me at least call. You can take the bedroom if anything, and I'll sleep out here. Just for tonight."

She clutched her bags, eyes searching for anywhere to land except Keith.

"I swear I'm not a creep," he said.

"I don't know if you saying you're not a creep helps at all."

"You're right... Fuck, this is not good."

"Nope," she said.

As the awkward silence deepened, her phone vibrated in her hand.

"Uh, do you need to answer that?"

She swiped the caller away again and dropped the device in her pocket. "No."

"Just 'cause I noticed you were getting lots of calls as I came out here and found you. Not that I was out here for long! That'd be weird. I was just... Well, I wasn't sure if I should wake you, but then I thought, of course, I should wake her, and your phone was just ringing and ringing. Maybe someone was trying to get ahold of you for something important. I don't know. I'm totally rambling now, and you probably think I'm a psycho."

Despite his unforeseen presence, Keith was not a man she would classify as creepy. He had big, kind eyes and seemed concerned for her well-being.

But that's how serial killers find their prey, she thought. However, there was something about his demeanour that denounced any kind of predatory inclinations. He stood with a slight hunch, perhaps because she was significantly shorter than him, tripped over his words, and fidgeted as he spoke. But would she recognize a violent criminal with these disarming behaviours at the ready? She had watched too many documentaries about killers to absolve him of all suspicion.

"I don't think you're a psycho, but this is still a weird situation."

"Hold on," said Keith. "Let me grab my phone."

He left the living room, and she peered down the hallway, hoping he didn't come back with a gun. When he showed up with his phone in hand and nothing else. she sighed with relief. Keith had no pockets in his sweatpants to conceal a weapon, and he moved toward the balcony to peer outside as he called the apartment's owners.

"Voicemail," Keith sighed. "Says they're on vacation in Hawaii. Must be nice."

"Yeah, guess so. How convenient."

"Look, I have this place booked for the next week. I don't mind leaving for the night and giving you the space so you can at least rest up. Then tomorrow, we can figure something else out."

"That's not fair," she said. "Plus, if you were going to do anything, you still have the passcode."

"True, I guess. Shit. Well, my initial offer still stands. You can sleep in the bedroom—it's nice, and I barely even touched the bed, so it's not like... dirty, er anything. And um, I'll take the couch."

She giggled. "You're like seven feet tall, and that couch isn't even big enough for me to sleep comfortably."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm adaptable. I grew up in a huge family with limited space. I'm used to squeezing into tight places."

"I don't know, Keith."

"Barricade the door if you want. I promise on my dog's life that I won't do anything to harm you," he held out his phone to show her an image of himself and a golden retriever with its tongue lolling to one side. Keith looked elated in the photo with a wide, toothy grin. She set her bags down.

"The problem is, I booked this place for three days."

"I'll find somewhere else to stay tomorrow. You can have the place. Hell, you can have my whole booking if you want. Stay until the end of the week, on me."

"Then you waste your money," she pointed out.

"That's fine. I can get a credit. I'm sure I can work something out with the booking app. And money isn't a big deal anyway—I mean, it's all good."

She studied him, noting all of his prominent features in case she had to provide a physical description. He was well over six feet, with unruly brown hair, light green eyes, and a half-inch horizontal scar on his cheek. He had no tattoos or other discerning marks, but his strange eyes were enough to set him apart from anyone. Most of his features were remarkable in some way; full, deep pink lips, an upturned nose, a dimple on his chin that only showed when he spoke or smiled. There was no forgetting Keith's face.

"Everything about this is a bad idea, but strangely enough... I trust you. Although, maybe I'm too tired to judge the situation properly."

"You can take a photo of my ID and send it to someone you trust. Does anyone else know you're here? If not, you should give them the address."

"No, nobody knows I'm here, but I'll take you up on your offer."

Keith retrieved his wallet and pulled out his driver's license, library card, gym membership and every other piece of identification he had with his name on it. She chuckled at his rigour and handed him back the cards after she finished snapping shots.

"Your library card expired," she said.

"I guess I should get that renewed, huh?"

"Expired four years ago. You don't do a lot of reading anymore?"

"Oh, I read. I just use a Kindle now. I feel bad about it, though. Kinda miss going to the library every couple of weeks."

"Me too."

Keith presented her with a burrito shop loyalty card. "Take a picture of this one. It's got my phone number on it. That's traceable, right?"

A blush crept over her cheeks. There was still a nugget of worry sinking in her chest, but Keith seemed genuine, and his awkwardness buried her apprehension as they worked out the details of how the night would play out. Keith surrendered the bedroom and helped her move her bags while repeatedly promising there would be no funny business. She accepted, and once she retired behind the master bedroom door, she changed into pyjamas and fell asleep without a moment to decompress from the odd situation in which she had found herself.

The next morning, she dressed and made her way into the kitchen, where Keith was busy flipping bacon and tending a pan of scrambled eggs. When he noticed her, his concentrated face slackened, and he waved with the greasy spatula.

"Morning. I wasn't sure if you were a coffee or a tea person, so I made both."

There was a full French press and a steaming teapot on the table beside a bowl of sliced oranges. She sat down in the warm beam of light shifting in from the window and pretended not to watch the man in the kitchen cooking and whistling like nothing about their encounter was peculiar. He brought her eggs, bacon and toast, then sat across from her, poured himself coffee and dug into his food. She picked up her fork and analyzed the meal before her.

He could poison me. He could drug me and...

"Not hungry?" Keith said.

"Very. It's just..."

"I promise I didn't lace your food with cyanide or anything. Wanna switch plates?"

She laughed as he presented his already half-eaten portions, and he shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I didn't think about how this could be risky."

"Sorry, Keith. I don't want to suspect every little thing could be a trap. It's all the true crime documentaries. You never know."

"I get it. Hey, you don't have to eat. I promise I won't be offended."

She prodded a slice of bacon, decided it was too tempting to ignore any longer, and took a bite. Keith smiled around a mouthful of buttered toast.

"So, what are your plans for the day?" He asked.

"Well, I'm kind of on vacation."

"Kind of?"

"It's a long story."

Keith looked at his watch. "I have time. I have to head out in about an hour for a meeting."

"I just needed to get away, which is why I booked this place for a few days."

"Wouldn't have something to do with the person whose calls you've been dodging?"

She picked at her nails under the table and sighed. "It does."

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. You have that air of a person on the run from something."

"I do?"

"You have an awful lot of stuff for someone only staying for a few days. I know ladies like to travel heavily, but that suitcase is massive. Also, the phone calls."

"It's that obvious?"

"I can piece it together. And I don't mean to pry, but there's a tan line on your ring finger."

"Okay, detective."

"Sorry. Am I wrong?"

"If only you were."

"Hey," Keith reached across the table and touched her wrist for a second. "It's okay. I'm a safe person to talk to. Or you can tell me to shut the hell up, and I will."

"It's fine. I just didn't think it was so obvious."

"Call me over-observant."

"Well, thanks for being so nice and letting me stay the night. I guess we should discuss what the next move is?"

Keith gulped down his coffee and took his empty plate to the kitchen sink. "How about later? I'm going to hop in the shower and go to my meeting. I'm sure you'd love some time to yourself."

"Sure, I guess."

"Just promise me one thing," Keith said. "You won't just up and leave while I'm gone. Okay?"

"All right."

"Promise?"

"Sure," she laughed.

"Great. So, I'll see you later then?"

"I guess you will."

Keith nodded, and his chin dimple flashed with his smile.

They both made good on their promises; Keith returned after work with four different types of corked wine, and she didn't vacate the apartment. He came back with abundant energy, striding all over the apartment, setting the bottles on the table, and whipping open the curtains. She watched him fluff the couch pillows, retrieve wine goblets and rattle on about how busy the day had been.

"You hungry? Maybe we should order in for dinner. Also, I don't know what wine you prefer, so I bought red, white, rosé and pinot noir. Oh, shit. Are you a chardonnay girl? Shit, I should have gotten some while I was at the store—"

"Keith! It's fine. I don't really drink wine anyway."

He smacked his forehead with a groan. "God, I'm such an idiot. I should have called you before assuming. Wait, I don't even have your phone number. Wow, I'm dropping the ball all kinds of ways."

"I thought we were going to talk about our, um... Temporary living situation?"

"Yeah, we will. I just figured it'd be more pleasant to do so over dinner."

"How about you sit down? Might make talking a little easier."

"Yeah, sure. You're right."

She joined Keith on the sofa, and the proximity made her feel terrible for having made him sleep there the previous night. Guilt crept over her, and she felt like an intruder all over again. Keith assured her that her presence was welcome and offered to buy dinner despite her many attempts at convincing him otherwise. Soon, they were eating Thai food, the subject of one of them leaving the apartment long since forgotten under flowing conversation and laughter. Keith popped open the red wine, and she decided to take a small pour in the heat of the moment.

His charm wore her down throughout the evening, and she decided she wanted neither of them to leave the apartment. Keith returned the sentiment, and they agreed on one more night of him on the sofa and her in the bedroom.

At ten o'clock, after they had showered and mostly sobered up from splitting a whole bottle of wine, she tiptoed into the living room, but Keith was not in sight. She circled the sofa and found him sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands relaxed in his lap, eyes closed, wearing only sweatpants.

"Uh, whatcha doing?"

Ten silent seconds passed before Keith opened one eye. "I'm meditating. You should join me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Come."

She sat across from Keith and mimicked his position. "So, what does this help with?"

Keith drew a long breath through his nose without opening his eyes and expelled it steadily. "Mindfulness. Calmness. Decluttering the brain."

"Okay, what do I do?"

"Close your eyes," he said.

"Done."

"Now, think of nothing."

She nodded, unsure of how to stop thinking. At first, she wondered how silly they must have looked sitting on the floor with their eyes closed, then wondered if this was part of Keith's nightly routine and chuckled at the thought of the man sitting in silence for extended periods. He hushed her, and she bit down on her lip to keep her reactions under control.

"Can I be honest?" She asked. "I don't know how to stop thinking."

"Talking doesn't help. And it's not that you must stop thinking; it's about trying to find your inner quiet. Turning off the voices in your head that feed you lies throughout the day. Those who say you're not good enough, not smart enough, or worthy of love or respect. Purge the junk thoughts. Dismiss the lies you tell yourself. They aren't coping mechanisms, just trash. And breathe deeply through your nose."

She took in a long breath.

"Don't keep it in. Release it. Slow and steady."

Keith grabbed her hands and arranged them palms up on her knees. He held them there and continued his long inhalations until her breaths fell in sync. Her nose made a whistling sound, and they both giggled.

"Clean out the worries. They don't serve you. Recognize the control you have of your life and decisions. You make your own happiness. Concentrate. Breathe. Don't let the pretty girl distract you."

Her eyes popped open while Keith's remained closed. His mouth twitched. He squeezed her hands, urging her to shut her eyes again.

"No distractions."

"Keith."

"No. Distractions."

She had had enough and flipped their hands to pull him closer. The wine still lingered in her blood, and the absurdity of the situation bolstered her bravery enough to kiss him. He smiled against her mouth, released her hands and shuffled his fingers through her hair, clutching her head at the right angle for him to take over when her nerve wavered.

"I said. No. Distractions." Keith kissed her between words, his own claim unconvincing. Her lips were as soft as he imagined, and his chest fluttered. Fated they were to end up like this, he thought to himself. From the moment he saw her asleep on the sofa, he had battled urges to flirt with her. Now, she had come to him, and the room grew hot.

Keith pulled her until the only thing she could do was climb over and settle in his lap with her legs wrapped around him.

She pulled away in mid-kiss, expecting him to flash his silly grin, but his eyes had grown heavy, and his mouth sought hers again. The weight of his desire had squashed all traces of giddiness. They kissed until she felt a twinge between their clothed groins. Finally, Keith looked down, breathless.

"I want to... You know. But I don't want you to feel obligated."

"I don't."

"Like you don't feel obligated or don't want to?"

"I want to, silly."

"Okay," Keith nodded. "Good."

She shimmied off of him, and he climbed onto the sofa backwards to not break eye contact. Once settled, she shifted between his knees and ran her hand over his hardness until he bristled with arousal and his sweatpants did little to conceal him. He blushed as she tugged his waistband and helped her remove the article. He sat naked, legs splayed, wonderment wide in his eyes. There were dozens of things he wanted to say, but before he summoned the courage to speak, she grasped his length, stood it up and licked him from base to tip, stifling all but a long moan. She did this a couple more times, then surrounded the head with her lips.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," said Keith.

She kissed his thigh, his groin, the drop of precum collecting at the tip of his cock, and giggled. "You're beautiful."

He grinned sheepishly and watched with an open jaw as she slathered his length with saliva and made him disappear down her throat a few times. When she came up for air, she pressed her lips to his frenulum and hummed.

"Your cock matches you perfectly. So long and pretty."

"Come on," Keith chuckled, cheeks pink. "I'm not pretty."

"Okay, you're gorgeous then."

"You are."

"And you're so nice. Please tell me nobody out there thinks they're dating you."

"Nobody thinks that. I'm really and truly single. Why else would I be letting you—oh... Oh, wow."

She clouded his thoughts again with one hand surrounding his shaft and the other massaging his balls while she circled her tongue around and around the head.

"For the record, I wasn't being nice hoping to seduce you," Keith said.

"No, you're just very polite, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Are you gonna come soon?"

"Hell no," Keith sat up and urged her to stand. She shed her clothes, took his hand and climbed over his lap again, knees sinking into the plush cushions. "Oh, yes. Fuck me, pretty girl."

He pressed into her slowly, and she gasped from the sudden fullness. Clinging together, he rocked his hips forward once, letting her get used to the sensation before he settled back, marvelling at the naked body perched atop his. Keith let her find a rhythm, having no complaints about how she wished to move. He gorged on her body and whimpered as she swivelled her hips.

"You look so good riding me."

She accepted the compliment and pressed her arms against her breasts, squeezing them together until he latched onto a nipple. He gripped her hips, stroked down her back and gave her a light spank. When he drew back, his teeth had his bottom lip in a violent hold. She noticed the dimple on his chin, the scar on his cheek, and the eerie green eyes glazed over with lust. Unforgettable features contorted in pleasure, and she felt wanted for the first time in too long.

Keith placed her on all fours and gave a few gentle strokes before he increased his pace. He didn't want her to feel as though he was jabbing her, but a wave of fierce desire spurred him, and he pulled her in to meet his thrusts every time until she gasped.

"Does that hurt, baby?"

"No, it feels amazing."

"Okay, just let me know if I'm doing it too hard."

"You can go harder."

Keith scoffed. "Really? You want it harder?"

"I like it a little rough."

"Wouldn't wanna hurt you, gorgeous."

She twisted around and nodded. "Fuck me real good, pretty boy."

His cock twitched as she turned away and watched their reflection in the balcony window. The mirrored show didn't last long, for Keith flipped her and pressed down with all his weight. His stubble tickled while he kissed and nuzzled her neck and found her opening again. He sank in with a sigh. The lull was short-lived, and soon, he pounded into her with most of his strength. Though she had requested it, he hadn't the heart to make her wince, but what he did give her made the most beautiful sounds leave her lips, and he had to kiss her again.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon. I don't wanna make a mess."

"Come inside me," she said.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Keith."

He locked his elbows and closed his eyes, focusing on the tightness surrounding him, the slick noises, the little mewls and whimpers she made. When he looked down at her breasts bouncing from his motions, he groaned and pulled air through his teeth. She was so beautiful the way she looked helpless yet delighted to have him inside her.

"M'gonna come so hard inside that cute little pussy, baby. You ready?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Yeah, you like it when strange men fill you full of cum? You like that shit?"

"I love it," she moaned.

"Oh, that's so nasty. Letting someone you don't even know blow inside your slit. Fuck, I don't think I can take it anymore."

True to his word, Keith's muscles flexed, and a shuddering orgasm ripped through his body, spasming in his legs and dripping out of him as he groaned and his eyes rolled. There was no time between him pulling out and forcing her back onto her stomach. He lifted her hips and watched the cum dripping from her hole, making glistening streaks down her thighs. He lapped her clit with a curled tongue as she stuffed her face into the cushion to muffle her moans.

"Now it's your turn to come for me," his breath was hot on her backside, convincing. "I'll lick your pussy until I have you coming on my face."

Keith rubbed his tongue back and forth against her clit while he clutched her open and let the warm fluid flow. What he gathered in his mouth he spat back on her. He growled and nipped her in several places, replacing his tongue with his fingers so he could catch his breath and rearrange her yet again.

On her back, legs spread, Keith gorged on her pussy until her thighs shook, and he had to cover her mouth to ensure the neighbours didn't hear. He nodded, tongue flickering, eyes on her face.

"Come for me. Come on my tongue, baby. Can you do that for me?"

Her response came muffled under his palm, but she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. He had found the sweet spot, the exact motion needed to make her orgasm, and when she did, her pelvis jostled, and she tried to pull away. But Keith pinned her and didn't stop until she climaxed and came up to another.

"Yeah, come on my face again. Keep coming for me, pretty girl. I want it all."

She lay on the couch, ears ringing and heart thumping as she gasped for breath. By the time Keith released her, she had lost count of how many times the unbearable wave of pleasure had come and gone. Keith offered his hand, and she took it, unsure of what might happen next. He led her to the washroom and motioned her to enter.

"Go pee, and then meet me in the bedroom."

"I... can't keep going."

Keith kissed her on the cheek, chuckling. "I know, sweet thing. I'm not gonna fuck you anymore. It's time for bed. But you should pee first. It's important."

"Oh," she said dazedly. "Right."

She did as suggested and met Keith in the bedroom, where he was already in his boxers and under the covers. He drew back the corner of the duvet and patted the mattress. Once under the covers, they snuggled up close, their noses an inch apart. He kissed her forehead and sighed.

"I just wanted to say... I don't normally do this kind of thing. It goes against what I believe in," said Keith.

"What do you mean? Were you saving yourself for marriage?"

"No, silly. I'm not really a one-night stand person. I don't usually have sex with girls I just met. So, this is a bit strange for me."

"Are you saying you want to do it again?"

"It's not that simple. Of course, I'd like to do it again. I just hope this wasn't a one-off thing for you. I mean, if it is, I'll respect that, but... I don't know. I like you, and when this week is over, I'd like to keep seeing you."

"My life is very complicated at the moment," she admitted. "I want to see you again—I mean keep seeing you—it's just that I'll be going through some big changes."

"That's fine. I'll be here for you."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Keith kissed her and tucked her head under his chin. She pressed her face into his chest and tried not to think about how odd it was to feel this way about someone she had just met. But there was something special about Keith. He was warm and welcoming, and she needed warmth now more than ever.

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