#especially when so tiny why did I do this to myself
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foxtrology · 10 hours ago
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hi alana! i’ve been obsessed with the harry castillo series since you posted it, and i had this thought i can’t get out of my head...after watching that one materialists scene...
what if adella finds out about harry’s height surgery?? like maybe she notices the scars or overhears something, and she’s just confused because to her he’s always been this big, warm, soft giant of a dad?? 😭 i’d love to see her reaction and how harry explains it to her, especially since he probably still carries some old insecurity about it. and of course reader being gentle and grounding him after. idk i just think it’d be so tender and emotional and sweet 🥺
thanks for giving us this beautiful little family!! <3 — a very emotionally invested reader lol
dad!harry castillo
sweet sweet baby masterlist
CONTAINS MATERIALISTS SPOILERS!
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The couch was an old one.
Not old as in falling apart—God, no, Harry Castillo would never keep anything falling apart—but old in the way that mattered.
Worn in the corners from years of Sunday naps.
Smelling faintly like their laundry detergent and the lavender spray his wife used on the pillows.
One of the cushions still had a juice stain from when Adella was three and decided she was “a big girl now” who could pour her own apple juice.
It was lazy, golden afternoon.
Not much was planned—just a slow lunch, soft music playing through the house, and the windows cracked open to let the Montauk breeze drift through.
Frances was asleep in a patch of sun near the door.
Harry was stretched out on the couch, his legs resting on the ottoman, his wife curled against his side with her nose in a paperback.
And Adella was nestled across his lap, head on his chest, her limbs sprawling as only a child’s could.
They weren’t doing anything.
They didn’t need to.
Adella’s fingers were busy with nothing in particular—playing with the fabric of his shirt, tugging gently at the thread of his sweats, then tracing lazy lines down the skin of his calf where the fabric had ridden up.
And then, quiet...
“Daddy… what’s that?”
Harry blinked.
He looked down.
Adella’s tiny finger was gently running along a faint, narrow scar just beneath his right knee. One of two. Parallel, silvery. Still noticeable after all these years.
His heart ticked once.
Then again.
“Oh,” he said, voice low.
His wife glanced up from her book, instinctively tuned to the change in his voice.
“That’s…from something a long time ago, baby.”
Adella frowned. “Did you get hurt?”
Harry paused.
She was only seven.
He could make something up. Say he fell off a bike. Tripped running in the rain. Banged it on a desk.
But she was watching him so closely.
And his wife—her book forgotten now—was watching too, eyes soft, waiting.
“No,” Harry said after a beat, brushing his hand over Adella’s curls. “Not really. It wasn’t an accident. It was a surgery I chose.”
Adella tilted her head, curls brushing against his chin. “Why?”
Harry’s hand stilled.
He exhaled through his nose. Looked out the window for a moment like he was gathering pieces of himself.
“I wanted to be taller.”
She blinked.
“But you’re already tall.”
He smiled—small and a little sad. “I wasn’t always.”
“You had surgery to be taller?” Her voice was filled with disbelief.
Not judgment.
Just curiosity, like he’d said he’d had his bones rearranged to be made of glitter.
“I did,” he said softly. “I was… around the age mommy is now. Maybe a few years older. I wanted to be six feet tall.”
Adella’s mouth opened, then shut. She looked back down at the scar, her little finger brushing it again, gentler this time.
Harry could feel it. The old, buried ache of what that scar used to represent.
“I didn’t feel like I was enough,” he said finally. “Back then. I used to think… maybe if I were taller, I’d be taken more seriously. Or respected more. Or—maybe I’d like myself better.”
His wife shifted beside him.
Her hand found his, quiet and steady.
Adella was quiet for a long beat. Then...
“But you’re already the biggest dad I know.”
Harry huffed a laugh. One of those deep, emotional ones that pressed against the ribs a little.
“I don’t mean just tall,” she clarified seriously, “I mean big big. Like… when you hug me, you’re everywhere. And you carry all the bags and you always pick me up like I’m nothing, and you stand behind mommy at the stove and she says you block the light.”
“I do say that,” his wife murmured, kissing his shoulder.
Adella looked back at the scar and leaned forward, placing the softest little kiss on it.
“There. Now it’s not sad anymore.”
Harry blinked rapidly, once, twice. His throat felt too tight for a second.
His wife sat up and kissed the top of Adella’s head. “Come on, bug. Let’s make some lunch. Give Daddy a minute.”
Adella gave him a final squeeze before bouncing off the couch.
The kitchen door swung behind them with a soft thud.
Harry stared at the ceiling.
His leg still felt warm where she’d kissed him.
He hadn’t thought about those scars in a long time. Not really.
They didn’t ache. They didn’t get cold in the winter like he feared they might.
The surgeries had worked.
He’d stood taller when it was done.
Walked into meetings and parties and boardrooms with a confidence that should have come from somewhere else—but didn’t.
Not back then.
He remembered the first time she saw them—his wife.
They hadn’t been together long. He remembered the hesitation when he undressed, the way he’d almost said something but didn’t, the way she noticed the scars and simply asked, “Did it hurt?”
He remembered nodding.
And he remembered her hand, brushing down his shin, her lips at his knee.
“I don’t care what you did,” she had said. “Just… don’t ever think you needed to.”
That memory sat in his chest now, blooming slowly.
Later that night, after Adella had fallen asleep between them, sprawled sideways like always, Harry laid awake and stared at the ceiling again.
His wife shifted closer, hand sliding under his shirt and resting over his heart.
They talked about what Adella had said.
He expected her to smile, maybe laugh.
Instead, she moved the blankets down just enough to uncover the scar Adella had kissed earlier. She pressed her lips to the exact same spot.
Then leaned up to kiss his mouth, slow and deep.
When she pulled back, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“You were always enough.”
Harry didn’t say anything.
He just closed his eyes and held her tighter.
And for the first time in a long time, the scar didn’t feel like a regret.
It felt like history.
And right now, history was curled between them in mismatched pajamas, one arm flung across Harry’s stomach, her curls stuck to her cheek with sleep.
“Biggest dad I know,” he murmured Adella's words.
His wife smiled into his chest. “The biggest heart, too.”
And that night, with the windows open and the ocean air spilling in through the curtains, Harry Castillo—the man who once reshaped his bones to feel like more—slept better than he had in years.
Because his girls saw everything.
And still, they chose love.
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storiesbyjes2g · 2 days ago
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3.255 The quiet divide
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We left the hospital in a daze. The kind that seeps into your bones and gives you a false sense of calm. I don’t remember the journey home, only the moment we plopped on the couch like we’d just returned from war. I sat there, numb, staring at the empty TV screen. Sophia's sighs brought me back to the present. I felt for her—for us. We discussed it. No more children, we said. Even though I still wanted a child now and then, I would have never revisited that conversation, especially given how badly she struggled with Desiree. But here we are, expecting another child in the most unconventional way possible. I'm glad it's a boy, but if I'm honest, I don't want him this way.
I tried so many times to glance in her direction and see how she was doing, but I chickened out every time. Carrying a baby as a man was hard. No one would fault me if I behaved selfishly and threw myself a little pity party. Still, I couldn't help but focus on Sophia. This might be hard for me, but she's the one having to bear it all on top of coming to terms with her feelings about starting over. I had to ask.
"Sophia..."
She exhaled, breath coated in emotional exhaustion.
"Hmm?"
"I need to know how you really feel about this. Like, for real."
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She exhaled again, staring at the floor.
"No, you don't."
"Please..."
She looked at me, finally, as if to beg me not to make her dig that deep. I don't know what she found in my eyes, but after holding my gaze for several moments, she relented and gazed at the floor again.
"We fought so hard for Desi. All those stupid treatments ... All the tears ... All that time just...gone. We both wanted a big family, and I felt like I let you down. But now, you're the one expecting. And we didn't even have to try. It hurts, Luca." Tears welled up in her eyes. "It really hurts."
I couldn't help but cry, too. It wasn't anyone's fault, but I poured salt on wounds I didn't know were still open. This whole thing is such a mess! I wanted to fix it for her, despite knowing there was really nothing I could do. A thought entered my mind, one I never expected I'd entertain. I felt guilty just considering it, but if it healed my wife...
"Do you, uhh..." I couldn't even get the words out; they were so wrong. I couldn't even look her in the eye. "Should I tell Dr. McKnight I changed my mind?"
She gasped, mouth agape, surprised I said it, but clearly weighing her response. Then she shook it off.
"What? No! I'd never ask you-"
"I know you wouldn't," I said, cutting her off. "I'm opening the door."
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She sank into the sofa, burdened by the weight of her decision. I felt bad for putting that on her, but I needed her to know she had a stake in this as much as I did. This baby might not be her blood, but he'll still be her child.
"I don't want you to do that," she said, finally. "I just—I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now. I know that I'm scared, and I feel like maybe this is how-"
Whatever she was about to say took her aback. Her eyes went wide, and her body stiffened. I waited for her to continue, but she never did. I wanted to know her deep feelings, but I didn't have the energy to go there while my back throbbed and the cramps returned. She'd revisit when she felt ready to share.
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"I don't remember you being in this much pain," I groaned.
She wiped tears, looking relieved for a new topic.
"Your body isn't exactly designed for this. He's just trying to make do with what he has."
"He needs to be calmer about it. You hear that, little guy? Give me a break, please."
A tiny smile warmed the space between us, giving me a brief respite from our troubles. But then it went away.
"Why didn't you tell me you wanted a son?" she asked.
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It was a valid, simple question, yet it still caught me off guard.
"Well ... You were very clear about not having more children. Why bring it up?"
"We could have discussed it. We could've...adopted or something. It's obvious you wanted it pretty bad. I don't want you feeling like I stole your dream or something."
"It's not like that, Sophia. I swear."
"So, what was all that back there?"
"It's just ... I was serious when I agreed to no more kids. But sometimes when I'm around my nephews, I wonder what it would be like to have my own son. It's just a fantasy I entertain sometimes. That's all. I reacted like that because I was just shocked. Kinda like when you won the lottery. I'm sure you've thought about it before, but you never thought you'd actually win. And then one random day, you did."
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"Hmmm, that's a good example. So you don't resent me?"
"Sophia, come on."
"What? You know you hide things from me, so don't act like I'm crazy."
"Okay, I'm sorry. I swear the baby thing was strictly fantasy. I know IVF was rough. Even if I really wanted another baby, I'd never ask you to do that again."
"Okay."
"You know I always put your needs first."
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"I understand, but I don't want you to feel like you can't have everything you want because of how I feel. We can revisit things like how you did with the money tree. I'm not a dictator, Luca!"
"I know! I'm not saying you are. And if I really want something, I'll say it, but this was not that."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
"Alright. What do you feel like eating? I'll cook tonight."
Seemed like even the idea of food caused my stomach to turn again.
"I don't know. I can't even think about eating right now. Make whatever you want."
"Okay. Sit tight."
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She disappeared into the kitchen, and I sat there rubbing my queasy stomach. Desi came home shortly after, full of questions. She sought to befriend someone—someone I heavily suspected was a boy. Her comment about the child's indifference confirmed my suspicion; it was definitely a boy. Men. We're such idiots. I didn't want to call her out by explaining the potholes in male brains, so I told her sometimes sims were shy and didn't know how to behave around others. Also, some sims weren't great at understanding the hints we drop. I proposed making a big friendly gesture to make it clear she's interested in friendship.
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She seemed satisfied with my answer and lingered for a moment. That would have been a good time to tell her about her little brother, but I couldn't do it. I needed more time to process the news myself. Besides, this wasn't the kind of news you ambush someone with just before dinner.
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unma · 9 months ago
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"I daresay it's all thanks to ME!"
The results of my brain being overtaken by Ahabmael for the past month. Enjoy.
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heyitslapis · 3 months ago
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Even when I thought we had boundary of just friends, she confuses me.
I tell myself to ignore it. That it's just a game for her and that she really is just comfortable with me as a friend.
But we all went out Sunday night (you, me & Sam). You asked us again if Sam & I were still "not a thing." We both told you the truth (for like the 10th time): we're not a thing. There's no sort of situationship or anything like that. We're just friends.
**((also I fucked up one of my tags I meant to say that Alice told buddy boy that I threatened to kill *him* again, not that I threatened to kill her. He sounded really serious when he said "i promise v, im leaps and bounds better than anyone shes had before. I would never hurt her." I said "Oh, im sure. Its because thats who you are Ty. Thats what you and I do. We protect people." I'll be so honest yall i was crossfaded as fuck because i was running iff 3 hours sleep & literally no food almost the whole day leading up to our outing. NOT doing that again jfc))**
#when leaving that bar to head to another one you were in my driver's seat & i was in the front passenger since i was too drunk to drive#the foam rose you tentatively pinned to my vest valentine's night was pinned to my visor directly above your head#did you notice it? is that why you did what you did next? i was packing my tiny bowl & you said it was cute#i said ''thanks! courtesy of my ex lol'' & as i was talking you were saying something else. but as soon as we both stopped#you said ''i love you'' with a wide sweet smile took the sides of my head in either of your hands & kissed my cheek#i dont know what you said right before the ily & idk why you kissed my face especially with sammy in my back seat?#then at the 2nd bar not only did you insist that i take the jacket off your back because i was cold & dreaded getting my coat from the car#but you also (for the 2nd time very recently) implied that i enjoy impact play (which i do but thats none of your business missy)#and why would you even throw that assumption out there? its happened a couple times recently & you also said on speaker at work last week-#that i love it when you & sam are mean to me. yeah i do enjoy it to a degree but again what are you trying to get out of me?#what info are you rooting for? what are you wondering about me & why? not to mention the other three main things you did that night.#at the 2nd bar i went to the rest room. you were coming in just after i washed my hands & saw me trying to put on my gold chain necklace#from inside the stall you asked if i needed help. i said nah i got it. you said if i didnt have it on by the time you were done youd do it#i said if you insist & probably shouldnt have but i stopped trying to put it on (i definitely couldve gotten it myself)#you came out washed your hands & asked if i was trying to shorten the chain. i said yes & id like it on the 5th or 6th large link please#you confirmed ''kinda like a choker?'' & tugged it ever so firmly but also gently against my throat as you clasped it on the 6th large link#which that can be written off as you being a homie & just struggling to quickly get it cause your nails are in the way & youre also drunk#but then when we were all sitting in your car after buddy boy came to get us & get food we were talking about how you train new hires#i said ''my love you cant train people like theyre dogs'' & you immediately shot me back a look out of the corner of your eye#then you turned forward & if i remember correctly you said ''i beg to differ'' or something along those lines exCUSE ME?????#then i was complaining about ''all the femmes in my life (you & sam) are always so mean to me''#you very happily & proudly announced to your boytoy that i admitted that i enjoy being hit#i then argued that i never admitted to anything but was simply accused. you & sam said that my silence was admission enough#i countered that i stayed silent because i wasnt going to say a word on it without my lawyer present#you said i couldnt afford a lawyer & i laughed saying ''exactly & thats why i wont speak on it''#but you & sammy kept egging me on so my drunk ass said ok maybe i do a little but who doesnt enjoy getting a little rough every now & again#the topic ended up changing shortly after that#you also smirked as you told buddy boy that i threatened to kill you again that night#i corrected that i didnt establish a new threat just renewed the old promise & that i was mildly serious since i dont have much to lose lol#heyitslapis rambles
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seumyo · 1 month ago
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husband!kageyama taking care of your nails for you.
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“You know, when you told me you were going to clip my nails, I didn’t think you meant it seriously.”
Kageyama gave a small grunt, not looking up. “I always mean it seriously.”
“That’s what worries me a little.”
He blinked, pausing to glance at you. “Why?”
“Because you have your ‘actual game face’ on. Like you’re about to hit the ball through someone’s soul—my poor finger’s soul.”
His brow furrowed. “This is delicate work,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I have to focus. And I’m careful.”
You laughed, watching him lift your hand like it was a precious object. He took a long moment to examine your fingers—turning them slightly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles in slow circles. It’s gentle and careful, and it warms your heart to see your husband so loving like this.
“You have a hangnail here,” he muttered, frowning. “Were you picking at it again?”
“I got nervous during that meeting yesterday.”
He clicked his tongue quietly. “Stop doing that. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I didn’t know I’d be getting a full checkup afterward!”
“You don’t need to be nervous. You’re… good at what you do.” His voice dropped a little as he said it, like it embarrassed him to offer praise so directly. “I’ve heard you on the phone. You’re smart. And brave.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard. Your smile softened. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said all week.”
“I said you looked pretty yesterday.”
“You said I ‘looked rested.’”
“…Oh. Well, you look even prettier today.”
You laughed, and it made his ears turn pink.
He clipped your nails gently, his hands steady, fingers long and precise. He held each of yours securely, guiding you through the process like a practiced routine. It wasn’t rushed; Kageyama took his time, carefully aligning the clipper, checking the angle twice before making a cut. After each nail, he paused to brush the trimmed bits into a little ceramic bowl they kept nearby.
“Do you do this often?” You asked after a long pause. “For yourself, I mean?”
He nodded once. “Every few days. I have to. My fingers are everything. If I don’t keep my nails short and clean, they can catch on the ball or split. It’s stupid how much one little crack can mess with your whole game.”
You gave him a look, eyes wide with something like quiet awe. “You take this so seriously.”
“It’s part of taking care of myself,” he said, and his gaze lifted to yours. “And now it’s part of taking care of you too.”
Your breath caught for just a moment. How did you ever get so lucky to snag this man?
Kageyama picked up the small file next and began to smooth the edges with slow, even strokes. The motion was rhythmic and tender. You watched the way he focused so intently on the task—the slight pinch in his brow, the way his lower lip pressed into a thin line when he was trying to be especially careful.
“You always do this when you’re nervous,” you said softly, brushing your free hand against his hair.
“Do what?”
“Zone in. Like the world disappears except the thing you’re trying to control.”
Kageyama was quiet for a moment, then exhaled. “That’s… true.”
“Are you nervous right now?”
He hesitated. “Not nervous. Just… I want to get it right.”
“Because it’s me?”
He gave the tiniest nod, eyes still trained on your thumbnail. “You’re important. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
You leaned in, resting your forehead against his for a beat. “You won’t.”
The silence between you grew comfortable. The kind of quiet that speaks in glances and gentle touches. After he filed the last nail, he gently ran his thumb across each fingertip, checking for snags, tiny splinters, anything he might have missed. Then he reached for the cuticle oil and unscrewed the little bottle with a slow, almost reverent motion.
“I’m going to massage this in,” he said, almost shyly—yet still determined.
You nodded, watching him carefully as he dabbed a small dot of oil on each nail, then rubbed it in with soft, circular motions. His touch was warm, so warm, like the atmosphere during mornings in a bakery. The way he held your hand wasn’t just careful—it was reverent. As if your hands were something sacred. Something worth protecting.
“I like your hands,” he said suddenly.
You scrunched your nose, barely. “Really?”
“They’re soft. And warm. And… I know them.” His voice dropped lower, murmuring. “I know the way you hold my wrist when I’m anxious. The way you press your palm to my back when I come home late. How you run your fingers through my hair when I can’t sleep.”
You swallowed. Your chest ached in that lovely, terrible way when someone says exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it.
“I want to take care of them,” he added, brushing his thumb along the side of your pinky. “Because they take care of me.”
“Tobio…”
He looked up then, eyes a little wide like he was afraid he’d gone too far. But you leaned forward before he could pull back and kissed him softly. When you pulled away, your voice was barely a whisper. “You are the gentlest man I’ve ever known.”
He shook his head, a breath of laughter escaping. “I’m not.”
“You are. Maybe not with words. Or… you know, strangers. But with me? You’re gentle in all the ways that matter.”
You sat like that for a long moment—hands still entwined, foreheads nearly touching, the world outside fading into white noise. Then Kageyama cleared his throat. “I could… maybe paint them next time? If you want?”
Your eyes lit up. “You’d paint my nails?”
He gave an awkward little shrug. “If you like it. I’d have to practice.”
You hummed, pulling him forward into another kiss, lingering and full of affection. “You’re already perfect.”
Kageyama flushed from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears once again. He’s so easily flustered—it’s almost illegal to be this cute, you think.
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SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 6 months ago
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✧✦✧ Chapter 1 ✧✦✧
Dear Mother, Goodbye
Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader
Warning this part contains : Death, Poverty, Bad English (So fckn bad), death?, saying bye bye to mommy, short chapt.
Note: MC will be gender neutral and no mention of specific physical traits except for general parts of the body, No mention of MC's name only with the queue of -...- will it be mentioned
MASTERLIST Pages ↻ PROLOUGE 2....➣
NOW PLAYING ↻◁ ||▷↺ Remember Me - dv4d (Arcane) ılıılıılılılıılıılı
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As the darkness consumes me, I let the bitting cold spread through out my body, closing my eyes and settle to the back of my mind where the thoughts and whispers of quiet voices echo before drowing me down to it's depths.
I remember
I remember how everything was simple, so nice, so kind and.....
warm.
Oh so warm, she was warm, her voice, her smell, her touch and her love? it was the warmest thing I have ever felt and yet it's the thing I can never have, not anymore-
As I opened my eyes to greet death instead a blinding light made be flinch before blinking and see a light down the tunnel of the abyss flickering then grew size and engulfed me.
Gasping I woke and see myself back to where everything I ever wanted be again, looking down I see my small chubby fingers as I curl it around my palms over before looking up and catch a sight of my blurry younger self sitting on the floor infront of our old box TV.
Looking around I saw glimpse of my old home-
a broken window that was hit by a brick from one of the drunk neighbors as I remember her turning red as she almost ripped the lock off the window to pry it open and hear her curse like a true sailor before turning around and hear me laughing for some reason -her calling me a weird baby before blowing raspberries on my cheeks- then fixing it by using packing tapes.
a few planters on the corners from when she met a nice botanist lady and talk her into having greens around the house since it was to create a nice environment for a baby especially in gotham.
And a few wallpers with newspapers taped to cover rips, tears or holes but she won't use the ones where 'he's' in front page which was almost always but-
It was a busted down and dirty home that held the most beautiful and warmest memories that I'm slowly forgeting as I am losing myself more bit by bit.
"......"
A hum and a voice broke me out of my thoughts as I turn my head to see a figure working around the kitchen behind the couch.
My breath hitch as I take a deep breath as I push myself up and stood up on my shaking legs before taking a step and another till I reach the corner of the counter as I hear her humming closing in, peaking my head I stare at the back of her form as she continues to stir a pot of stew that I grew to forget.
"........ma?". I whisper and I rounded the corner of the counter, watching with baited breath as she stops by the cue of my tiny voice and raise her head.
I watch and move closely as she turns her head but with my younger and lower height the light shines from the window on her head obscuring her face to my view, her face? what does her face look like? why can't I remember her face? What does she looks like? Why do I keep forgetting?! WHY DID I FORGET?! THAT'S YOUR MOTHER! WHAT KIND OF-?!
".....? Oh! Sweetie Oh my God! Come here! Mama's here!". Her voice broke pass the voices as I feel her hand cupping the back of my head as her arms wrap around me and pull me in.
Eyes wide open I stare at the back of her again but with my head on the crook her neck and her fingers run through my hair and scalp lulling me and my thoughts to calm down.
"Mama...mama...mama". I tried to talk to her but only one words comes out making me frustrated and angry as I grip the back of her shirt while I feel her body rumble from her humming and soft hushing.
"It's okay baby, Mama's here you're okay, you're okay". She whispers and lay a kiss on the side of my head as she moves to carry up and sway to lull me to sleep.
'Mama.....I miss you....I miss everything about you....I miss your touch, your smell, your love.........I don't wanna forget you please......'
As her humming echo around the room hitting the corners and wall, so was the darkness creeping in and wrap around my head, each sway of her body stirs my eyes to close and each melody made my heartbeat match to the tone.
"It's okay my little love Mama's right here, I'll stay waiting till you're ready but for now rest". Her voice speaks to me as my eyes finally closed and drift me back to the abyss.
"I love you Ma, goodbye".
I say my last farewell one last time before opening up to the world and catch my eyes glaring at the rear-view mirror, two pools swirling around filled up by exhaustion and pain hiding underneath a never ending dark pits of anger and malice.
"Oh Dear Mother, we'll be together soon"
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Oh god, my shayla! my shayla!
had to rush this cuz it came to me after having a tense talk and crying session with my own ma after dinner, jesus that woman- love her but goddamn she makes me cry too much (in a loving way like telling me she's happy for me and stuff)
(And also a bit of credit to @acid-ixx new update the ch.5 specifically I hope it's fine I just read yours before this happened and kind of borrowed some inspo soooo heh-)
Taglist (still open) later cuz I'm stuffed with Mango Graham float and other Christmas food.
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sleeplessdreamer14 · 2 months ago
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𝓦𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷’𝓽 𝓦𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓘𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓐𝓤: 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓵 𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭
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special mention to @cosmiiwrites for inspiring this AU in the first place :}
I’m going to preface this by saying this version of Charlie is quite different from her canon counterpart; much more mature and emotionally intelligent and not as naive. (I gave her critical thinking skills and empathy) Still very bubbly and friendly, but not so childish.
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Despite knowing that sinners are in Hell for a reason, the exterminations are still kind of a rough time for her, what with all the bloodshed. But she understands why it has to happen and that it ultimately puts these souls out of their misery.
Much more proactive concerning the lives of hellborn demons, doing her best to make existence easy for them. It is their native home after all.
The hotel isn’t for redemption, it’s just something she likes doing, especially after Lilith left.
Charlie was close with her dad, but definitely a mama’s girl growing up. Once the idealistic lense she viewed her mother through was cracked, she needed something to fill her days. Besides, she’s always had an affinity for taking care of people.
She also has made jobs for hellborn demons who need them, and pays wonderfully. Housekeeping, cooking, bartending, etc. and they all get their own quarters.
Charlie and Ronnie (I renamed her Veronica, and I still have yet to flesh out her role in this AU) aren’t dating yet, as much as she would like to. She just has a lot on her plate and knows she’s just not yet ready to get back on the dating scene, especially after her last relationship.
As busy as the hotel keeps her, she makes sure to call Lucifer at least a few times a week.
Looooves 20th century stuff, just something about it sparks joy in her. She’s about 200 years old, so the fashion, films, and music of that era hold a special place in her heart. She has all the Don Bluth and Steven Spielberg movies, and Thumbelina is her favorite.
She has a genuinely good heart, of course, but can be impatient sometimes, which leads to her slipping up and making a wrong turn every so often. But despite all that, she’s mature enough to admit when something is her fault and owns up to her mistakes.
Her passion bubble isn’t as near the surface as it was several decades ago, but she still gets riled up sometimes. (I’ll do her Big Scary™️ design if this gets enough notes)
also yes she has a Customer Service Voice, and it gave the others some major whiplash the first time they heard the difference.
Now regarding her design
I wanted to give her some actual body mass so she doesn’t look like she might break if you hug her too hard. I know Viv designed her after a porcelain doll, but her skin being just straight up white never really sat right with me, so I give her some pink undertones and red accents in her ears.
For her horns, I really just changed the position and shape, and they’re out 24/7.
The inconsistency of her face spots in the show bothered me a tiny bit so I replaced them with the little hearts on the apples of her cheeks. (hehe lol)
I took away the red in her bangs because I wanted her hair to actually make sense. Both her bubble braid in the series and her hair in the pilot bugged me in some way, so I found a middle ground. Seriously, I feel like they were really just trying to rip off series Rapunzel with her, so I did her a proper justice.
As stated in this post here, her tux in the series really grins my gears, so I fixed that :>
I imagine that after a long day of running the hotel, Charlie would change into something a little more loose fitting than her work uniform, and I wanted to see her wearing something other than red so I tried out some cooler tones for her leisure outfit.
If I had a quarter for every time a character in this show wore a bow tie, I could probably get myself a diet soda, so I replaced hers with a garnet heart bolo tie, which doubles as the pendant of the choker necklace she wears off the clock.
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pillow-coded · 1 month ago
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Five Hours
Summary: After weeks of pleading, Y/N is granted five rare hours alone with her husband, Spencer, inside prison for a conjugal visit. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) MDNI!!!!! Content Warning: Angsttttt but also kinda fluff and then angst again, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, prison!reid, crying during sex, aftercare. A/N: loosely based on CM S12, prison Reid arc. Word Count: 7.8K
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According to the Oxford Dictionary, a conjugal visit is a visit to a prisoner, by the spouse of the prisoner, especially for sexual relations.
However, Definitions are cold and stripped of nuisance.
They don’t tell you about the ache in your chest that doesn’t fade with time, or the way silence settles into your bed when the person you love isn’t in it.
They don’t tell you how it feels to wash your hair and suddenly remember the way his fingers used to rinse the shampoo out for you, gentle like he was afraid you’d break.
So no. Sexual relations is definitely not why I spent two weeks calling people, filing paperwork, arguing with strangers in suits and uniforms.
It wasn’t for sex. Even if it happens, even if we need it like oxygen—that’s not why I did it.
I did it because Spencer’s been in prison for a month, and I don’t know how much longer I can go without holding him.
All I want is to hold him in my arms. To kiss the corner of his mouth. To brush those soft curls away from his forehead and whisper that he’s going to be okay—that no matter what this place is doing to him, he’s still himself.
But I’ve seen it happening. His eyes have been growing dimmer with every non-contact visit. That’s all they’ve allowed me—cold chairs, thick glass, a phone pressed to my ear while I watched him shrink in real time. The only people granted private visits until now were Emily, and Fiona.
And now, finally… me.
I pushed, pleaded, filed the paperwork, followed up, waited. Jumped through every hoop they put in front of me. Some of the guards smirked when they handed me the forms—like they thought I was here for something cheap, something selfish.
But I would’ve done anything to get this time. I did do everything for these five hours they gave us.
And now I’m being escorted down a long corridor toward the conjugal suite—a room designed to look almost like a motel bedroom. Almost normal. Cream-colored sheets, a nightstand, dim overhead lighting. A sad little lamp that tries too hard to feel homey. There’s even a fake window with a painted blue sky outside of it. Like that could fool someone who hasn’t seen the real one in thirty days.
My palms are sweating. My heart won’t stop pounding.
In just a few minutes, I’ll get to touch him. I’ll get to kiss him.
I’ll get to breathe him in, memorize the sound of his voice without static in the way. I’ll get to be his again, not through glass, not with guards watching, but here—in this tiny, borrowed pocket of time where the world outside doesn’t exist.
I didn’t tell him about the conjugal visit.
I wanted it to be a surprise.
I wanted to see his face soften the moment he sees me sitting on the bed. I wanted to watch the disbelief bloom in his eyes, see the guardedness fall away. Just for a second. Just long enough to let him remember he’s loved.
Just long enough to let him feel free—even if it’s only for five hours.
“The prisoner will be here in a few minutes,” The guard says, voice clipped, bored, like this is just another Tuesday. “We’ll call eventually, when your time has run out. If you do not answer this call, we will be coming in regardless of what you two are doing. Got that?”
I nod, throat tight.
She gives me a look—somewhere between warning and pity—then shuts the door behind her.
And just like that, I’m alone again.
In a room pretending to be a bedroom. Waiting for my husband like I’m not half shaking.
I glance at the mirror in the corner, force myself to sit on the bed—knees together, hands folded in my lap. I don’t want him to see the nerves first. I want him to see me. The real me. The one that still believes he’s coming home.
I smooth down my clothes and stare at the door like it might open by magic.
Any second now.
My fingers twist together in my lap. I force them to still. The bed creaks under me when I shift, and I flinch like I’ve broken something sacred. Everything feels too loud. Too sharp. Like the silence in here is made of glass and I might shatter it just by breathing.
Then—The sound of keys, a bolt turning, footsteps. My heart stumbles in my chest, the door opens.
And there he is.
He steps inside slow, cautious, eyes adjusting to the low light. For a second, he doesn’t see me. He’s still in that survival state—shoulders tense, gaze scanning for threats before comfort. His hair is longer, curls hanging low over his forehead. His jaw looks sharper, like he’s lost weight again. His posture is too straight, too stiff. His body has learned prison, and it shows.
And then he sees me—Really sees me.
His breath catches.
That’s when everything changes.
His eyes widen like he can’t believe I’m real, like maybe the prison food’s finally driven him to hallucinations. His whole face crumples—relief first, then disbelief, then something wordless and raw that makes my chest ache. He takes one shaky step forward.
“Y/N?” he breathes.
I nod, standing up slowly, cautiously, as if I might spook him.
“Surprise,” I whisper, smiling through the lump in my throat. “You didn’t think I’d let them keep me away forever, did you?”
He’s already moving.
Crossing the room in a few long, clumsy strides until his arms are around me—tight, desperate, anchoring. I don’t even remember closing the distance. We just fold into each other like we never learned how to be apart.
He buries his face in my neck. I feel him inhale deep, like he’s starving for something only I can give. His whole body trembles against mine.
“I didn’t know,” he whispers. “They didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want them to,” I say softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform. “I wanted it to be a surprise”
He pulls back just far enough to look at me, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks like he needs to memorize every inch. There’s so much love in his eyes, but it’s cracked around the edges. Worn thin.
“You’re here,” he says, as if still not believing it. “You’re really here.”
“I’m here, baby,” I nod. “For five hours… I’m yours.”
His voice breaks on a sound that might be a laugh. Or a sob. I can't tell. I don’t think he can either.
Then he kisses me—soft at first, reverent, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he moves too fast. I kiss him back like I’ve been waiting for this every second of the last month. Because I have.
Because I’d wait forever just to feel this again.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against the crook of my neck. He clings to me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear—arms tightening around my waist, fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. “I missed you so much.”
“So did I,” I whisper back, barely holding it together. I run my hands over his back, exploring every new ridge, every place this month has hollowed out. “So, so much.”
We’re still wrapped around each other when the door clicks again—followed by a voice that slices straight through the moment.
“Your wife’s already been informed,” the guard says dryly, arms crossed over his chest like he’s seen this scene too many times to care. “But I’ve gotta say it for the record: we’ll call in when your time is up. If you don’t answer the phone, we’re coming in. It’s protocol.”
He pauses for effect, then adds with an unimpressed glance toward the bed, “So please answer the call. We don’t want to walk in to see… well. You know.”
Spencer flinches, just slightly. Not out of embarrassment—out of habit. Like he’s bracing for punishment, even here, even now.
I feel his breath hitch against my skin. His fingers twitch where they hold me.
“We’ll answer,” I say flatly, shooting the guard a look that makes him shrug and back out without another word.
The door shuts again, but the spell is already bruised.
Spencer doesn’t pull away from me. If anything, he holds me tighter. I press a soft kiss to his temple, breathing him in.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, rocking us slightly like I’m trying to soothe both of us at once. “They’re not here now. It’s just you and me.”
“Just you and me…” he repeats, but it sounds more like a question. Like he’s trying the words on his tongue, testing if they’re real. If this is real. His voice is thick with disbelief, the kind that comes from a month of fluorescent lights, shouted orders, and not a single safe place to land.
I pull back slowly and meet his eyes. They’re wet—but not broken. Not yet. There's still a little spark behind them, flickering like a candle in wind.
I reach for his hand—cool and calloused from rough sheets and cold routines—and he lets me take it without hesitation. His fingers thread through mine like muscle memory.
“Come here,” I murmur.
And I lead him toward the bed.
It creaks when we sit, but we don’t notice. We’re too busy drinking each other in like we’ve been wandering through deserts and finally found water.
He looks around the room, almost bashful now. “This feels… surreal,” he says. “Like I’m not allowed to have this.”
I bump his knee with mine, gentle. “Well, you better enjoy it,” I say with a teasing smile, though my throat is tight. “I busted my ass trying to get this visit. Took a whole week of phone calls and paperwork and playing nice with people who looked at me like I was asking for too much.”
His eyes snap back to mine. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be.” I squeeze his hand. “It was worth it the second I saw your face.”
He swallows hard, blinking faster now. I can tell he’s trying to stay in control—but emotion’s already slipping through the cracks.
“I’m sure I can get another visit,” I say softly, brushing my fingers against his. “But it might take a while. So for now… just let yourself have this. Please.”
He nods, slow and deliberate, like he’s promising me something sacred.
And then he leans in—forehead to mine, breath to breath—and for the first time in thirty days, we let the world fall away.
“How’d you manage to arrange this? A conjugal visit is rare in most of America.”
His thumb brushes over my cheek, barely there. His eyes are on my lips like he’s forgotten how kissing works but remembers that it mattered once.
I smile, just a little smug. “I know.”
“Seriously,” he says, brows knitting. “You must’ve pulled some impossible strings.”
“I did,” I admit. “There were forms. So many forms. And begging. And calling. And smiling at people I didn’t want to smile at.”
He huffs a laugh, the sound small but real. “You charmed the system?”
“I bullied the system,” I correct, grinning now. “Emily helped push it through once I got it on paper. Fiona found a loophole in the visitation code, and I… well, I gave one hell of a speech to the warden’s assistant.”
His mouth tilts up at the corners. “What kind of speech?”
“The kind that makes people uncomfortable if they say no,” I say, lifting a brow. “A little desperate. A little dramatic. Very persuasive.”
He laughs again—really laughs—and I swear I feel his body melt just a little more beside mine. Like the weight is starting to come off, molecule by molecule.
“You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs.
“No,” I say, reaching up to trace the outline of his face. “I’m your wife… and your wife has been desperate to hold you again,”
And then, like gravity shifts between us—he kisses me.
Slow. Intentional. Like he’s trying to relearn me by feel alone.
He pulls back just slightly, his breath shaky against my lips. His forehead rests against mine again, eyes still closed like he’s afraid they’ll betray how close he is to breaking.
“I was terrified that you would forget about me,” he says, voice cracking on the edges.
My heart squeezes. I cup his face in both hands, forcing him to look at me. “Spence… how could you ever think that?”
“I don’t know…” He swallows hard, like the words are knives on the way out. “This place… it’s dark. It changes you. You start to doubt everything.”
His eyes shine wet. He doesn’t blink.
“My mind keeps going to places I’ve never dared to think of. I imagine you moving on. Laughing without me. Falling asleep next to someone who isn't waiting for a phone call to say goodnight.”
I shake my head fiercely. “No. That’s not real.”
“I know,” he whispers. “I know. But in here, knowing isn’t enough. The silence gets inside your head. It starts sounding like truth.”
I press my forehead to his, trying to pour every ounce of love I have back into him. “You haven’t lost me. You won’t lose me.”
“I don’t want to forget who I am,” he confesses, voice barely there. “And I’m scared I already am.”
“You’re Spencer,” I breathe. “You’re brilliant. And soft. And good. You’re mine. And no steel bars or sleepless nights or whispering doubts will ever take that from me.”
He closes his eyes. A single tear slides down his cheek, and I catch it with my thumb before it can fall too far. He’s holding back. Like he didn’t want to ruin the little time we had by breaking down.
“You’re still you,” I whisper again, like a prayer I refuse to stop saying. “Even here you’re you.”
And then I kiss him—deeper this time, slower—both hands buried in his hair like I’m trying to hold all the broken pieces together before they slip through my fingers.
When I pull back, he’s staring at me like I’ve just given him air.
“I think about you all the time,” I say softly, brushing my thumb across his cheekbone.
A real smile—small but real—tugs at his lips.
“I think about you too,” he murmurs, his voice steadier now. “All the time. Every second I can spare.”
He exhales, long and slow, like he’s trying to let go of something he’s been holding in for too long.
Then he looks at me with that kind of aching desperation only someone truly starved can have.
“Tell me…” he says. “Tell me something about the outside. Anything. I just want to hear your voice talk about something normal. Something real.”
I smile, blinking back tears, and thread our fingers together.
“Well…” I begin, letting my voice soften like we’re already under blankets at home, “Henry won the spelling bee.”
Spencer lets out a small, breathy laugh—surprised and tender. “He did? What was the word?”
“‘Ephemeral,’” I say, and that makes him laugh again, fuller this time, like it physically lifts something from his chest.
“Of course it was,” he murmurs, pride shining through the exhaustion in his eyes.
“And…” I glance at him playfully, “Penelope and Luke seem to have something going on.”
His eyebrows lift. “Really?”
“Really,” I nod, grinning now. “They think they’re subtle. They are not.”
He chuckles and shakes his head like he can’t believe he missed that part of the story—like he’s trying to stitch himself back into a life that still exists without him.
“And I…” I pause, brushing his knuckles with my thumb. “I learned a new recipe. A fancy pasta dish with fresh herbs and this creamy lemon sauce. I think you’d love it.”
He closes his eyes and hums, like he’s trying to taste it in his mind.
“I can’t wait to make it for you,” I add, quiet now. “When you come home.”
That makes him open his eyes again. They're glassy, full of something that isn't quite sadness—but close. Hope, maybe. Or the kind of grief that comes from knowing hope is still possible.
He blinks once, then cracks a crooked smile.
“I can’t believe you managed to make a meal without burning the kitchen.”
I scoff, nudging his knee with mine. “Oh, like you’re any better. The only thing you’ve successfully cooked is cup noodles.”
“Excuse you,” he says, mock-offended. “I’ve made grilled cheese. Twice.”
“Spencer, you set the second one on fire.”
“That was a structural issue with the toaster oven.”
“You tried to grill it in the toaster oven.”
He shrugs, utterly unbothered. “Details.”
I laugh, and it feels like something sacred. It’s small, but it fills the space between us like warmth in winter. For a second, we’re not in a prison conjugal suite. We’re just… us.
He watches me like he’s memorizing the way I laugh. Like he doesn’t know when he’ll get to hear it again.
And then, softer—barely above a whisper—“God, I missed this. You. Us.”
My smile fades into something quieter, deeper. “You missed us?” I murmur, a hint of competition laced in my voice. “Spence… I can’t stop thinking about you. Twenty-four seven. You’re all I think about.”
Spencer’s heart swells at the words, something warm blooming in the hollowed-out space inside his chest. He knows this is hard on me—knows I’m carrying the weight of both of us on the outside—but still, hearing it… hearing that I ache for him just as much—it’s almost too much.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” he says, and it comes out like a confession. “All the time. I just… I wish I could hold you, kiss you, touch you. I miss everything about you.”
My hand reaches for his cheek, thumb brushing beneath his eye. “Honey… don’t cry.”
He blinks. His brows pull together slightly, like the realization only just hit. He hadn’t even noticed the tears until my touch caught them.
He wipes at his face with a shaky hand, a flush of embarrassment rising. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice rough and frayed at the edges. “I just… I can’t believe this is happening. That I’m stuck in here. That you’re out there, living our life without me. And I can’t be with you.”
My fingers curl gently under his chin, coaxing him to meet my gaze.
“You are with me,” I whisper. “Right now. I’m here. You’re not alone, Spencer. Not even for a second.”
He leans into my palm like it’s the only steady thing in the world.
“I’m here now,” I say again, firmer. “And for the next five hours, I’m not going anywhere.”
I lean in and press soft kisses to his cheeks, one after the other, catching the tears as they fall. Salt and skin. Love and ache. I kiss each one like I can take it away—like I can undo the weight this place has put on him, one touch at a time.
He lets out a breath of a laugh—a soft, bittersweet chuckle that trembles in the space between us.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time, like he knows it’s unnecessary but still feels the need to say it.
“Don’t be,” I whisper, brushing my nose against his.
He tightened his hold on me, his fingers trailing slowly up and down my back—gentle, reverent, like he was trying to memorize me. Every curve, every freckle, every breath I took beneath his touch.
Then he lifted his head, propping himself up on one elbow to study my face. His eyes softened as he traced the line of my jaw with his fingertips, feather-light and full of quiet awe.
His gaze drifted downward, lingering at my neck. He leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to the pulse point just above my collarbone. It was slow. Intentional. Like he was grounding himself in the rhythm of my heartbeat.
“You know,” he murmured against my skin, “I dream of you every night.”
He kissed me again, lower this time. Another soft press to the side of my throat, then another—each one careful, reverent. Like prayer.
I shivered beneath him as his hand slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers skating across my skin. His touch was feather-light, almost hesitant, as if I might break under it. He brushed the curve of my hip, pausing when he felt me tremble.
“You do?” I whispered.
“I do,” he breathed. “It’s been hell in here. A constant loop of missing you. Of dreaming about you. Wishing I could hold you, touch you, just… be with you.”
His hand moved to the front of my shirt now, fingers brushing each button with aching slowness. He began to undo them, one by one, savoring every inch of exposed skin like it was a miracle.
“Spence…”
“Shhh,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss me—soft and slow, like he had all the time in the world. “Just let me look at you.”
His hands moved reverently across my body, rediscovering me inch by inch. His mouth followed—kissing along my shoulders, the hollow of my collarbone, the gentle rise of my chest. Each touch was a vow. Each kiss, a homecoming.
I let out a breathless laugh, unable to help it. “This isn’t looking,” I teased.
He smiled against my skin, warm and unhurried. “Then let me look with my hands.”
He hummed, his fingers undoing the last of the buttons before slipping it off my shoulders. He paused then—really paused—his gaze sweeping over my bare torso like it was something sacred. Like I was something sacred.
No hunger. Just awe.
He leaned down, lips brushing softly against the skin just above my navel. Then he kissed lower—slow, tender kisses that trailed along my stomach, his tongue flicking out now and then to taste my skin. He moved upward again, mouth worshipping a path back to my chest, my throat, until he hovered above me—eyes burning, but gentle.
“Honey…” I whispered, voice breathy and reverent. Like the word itself was a prayer.
Spencer gazed at me adoringly, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the setting sun filtering through the small window of the visitation room. In a voice low and thick with emotion, he murmured.
"Beautiful... You're so beautiful, Y/N."
His fingertips traced the delicate curve of my cheek, slow and deliberate, like he was carving the shape of me into his memory. He leaned in closer, nose brushing mine, breath mingling with my own.
"I want to remember every detail of you," he whispered. "The softness of your skin. The rise and fall of your chest when you breathe. I’m terrified of forgetting… of losing this. Of losing you."
Coming from Spencer—someone with an eidetic memory—those words shattered something in me. He could recall entire textbooks word for word, yet here he was, terrified that even his perfect mind wouldn’t be strong enough to hold on to us.
His eyes fluttered shut, and a single tear slipped free, trailing down the sharp line of his cheek. But still, he didn’t stop. His mouth continued its journey, kissing down my neck with a reverence that made me ache—each kiss warm, wet, and trembling. Each one a vow.
His hands drifted lower, abandoning the bare skin of my torso to fumble at the waistband of my pants. I didn’t hesitate. My hands moved to meet his, tugging gently at the fabric of his prison uniform, desperate to strip away everything that stood between us—between now and before.
“You’ll never lose me,” I murmured, voice firm even as emotion caught in my throat. “We’re gonna get you out. I promise.”
“Promise?” he asked, forehead pressing to mine, like he needed the contact to believe it was real. Like he was anchoring himself to my warmth.
“Yes,” I whispered, resting my palm over his heart. “Promise.”
Something in him broke then—not in a destructive way, but in a release. Like hearing those words gave him permission to let go. To feel. To want. To have me, even just for tonight.
He kissed me again, slow and deep. Not hungry. Not rushed. Like a memory being rewritten—carefully, reverently. His hands moved over my body like he was afraid he’d miss something if he moved too fast.
I peeled off the top half of his uniform, it was easier than I expected—like the fabric was eager to fall away. I wanted to touch him. To feel all of him again. But then I saw them.
The bruises.
They weren’t clustered, but they were everywhere. Spaced out and blooming beneath his skin—angry shades of violet and blue, like ugly secrets painted across his ribs and hips.
“Spencer—” I breathed, my voice catching with horror. My hand reached instinctively for his torso, but he stopped me.
His fingers closed gently, but firmly, around my wrist.
“Please don’t,” he whispered, voice raw with shame. “Please just… let’s not talk about it. Not right now. Just... let me have you. Please, Y/N.”
His eyes found mine—desperate and pleading—not for pity, not even for comfort, but for escape. For something pure. Something real. Something to remind him that he hadn’t been ruined completely. That there was still softness in the world, and it lived here, in this room, in me.
So I leaned in and kissed his forehead. Then the bridge of his nose. Then each of his cheeks—tender, deliberate—until I had touched every part of him that looked like it might be hurting.
When I pulled back, I met his eyes again and gave the smallest nod. No words. Just yes. Just I'm yours.
Then I kissed him.
He cupped my face the moment our lips met, like he needed the contact to tether himself. And he kissed me back like he needed it—like this was his last breath and he chose to spend it here, on my lips. There was nothing hurried about it. No urgency. Just heat and devotion, building slow and deep beneath the surface.
His hands slipped down to my hips, guiding me gently onto my back. He followed, hovering just above, not rushing—just looking. His gaze roamed my face like it was the first time he’d seen it. Or maybe the first time he was allowing himself to believe it was really here. That I was really here.
“I love you,” he whispered again, as if repetition might stitch the moment into reality. “So much.”
“I love you more,” I whispered back.
His hand slid down the soft curve of my side—the one he knew by heart, yet had missed so deeply during his exile. He touched me like he was trying to memorize me all over again, as if he didn’t quite believe I was real. As if this was the dream.
His forehead pressed gently against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. I felt the brush of his eyelashes against my cheek, and then his voice—ragged, trembling—barely a whisper in my ear.
“Stay with me,” he breathed, half plea, half prayer. “Stay with me, Y/N.”
My heart clenched at the sound of my name. Stay with him... God, I wished more than anything in the world that I could. But our clock was ticking—fast. Too fast. That’s how time worked in here. Warped. Cruel. We had a couple hours left, and it already felt like sand slipping through our fingers.
“I’ll stay with you,” I whispered, breathless, trying to hold on to the fantasy that we could keep this—this closeness, this moment. “I’ll stay with you forever.”
And with our bodies entwined, he entered me. Gently. Slowly. Like it had been years. Like it hurt to be apart, and this—this was how we stitched ourselves back together.
My fingers tangled in his hair, soft and slightly damp with sweat, and his arms tightened around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer—like he was trying to erase every inch of space between us. Seal me to him completely.
The world outside vanished. No guards. No concrete walls. No ticking clock.
Just us.
Just breath.
Just the steady rhythm of our hearts beating in sync, echoing through the small, borrowed room.
“Do you remember…” I whispered against his lips, the words tumbling out in broken pants, my body trembling beneath his. The feeling of him inside me—of us—was almost too much. “Our first time?”
He swallowed hard, his eyes locking onto mine with a kind of reverence that stole the breath from my lungs.
“Every second,” he said, his voice thick, trembling. “Etched in my mind. In my soul.”
I chuckled, but my voice cracked right in the middle of it. “You head-butted me when you came.”
Spencer let out a breathy laugh, forehead dropping to rest against mine. “I was nervous,” he whispered, smiling despite the tears still threatening at the corners of his eyes.
“You were flustered,” I corrected, running my fingers through his hair. “And apologizing for like ten minutes while I couldn’t stop laughing.”
He shook his head, burying his face in the curve of my neck. “I still think about that. How embarrassed I was. And how beautiful you looked… even when you were laughing at me.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” I said softly, smiling into the memory. “I was laughing because you were embarrassed over an accident. It was sweet.”
His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer—like he didn’t want to miss even a second of this. His movements grew slower, more deliberate. We hovered at the edge of everything—not just release, but the kind of closeness that makes the world go quiet.
“I think…” I whispered, voice catching as I pressed a kiss to his temple, “I think that’s when I realized I was in love with you.”
Spencer stilled, just for a moment—his breath faltering against my skin. Then he looked up at me, eyes wide, glassy with unshed emotion.
“You did?” he asked, barely audible.
I nodded, holding him close. “You were so sweet. So nervous. You cared so much about how I felt—how I was. It was messy and imperfect and real. And I just... I knew.”
He kissed the side of my neck, a soft, trembling press of lips.
Spencer lost himself in the sensations—in the feel of me beneath him, around him, enveloping him. Every curve, every dip, every soft swell of my body pressed against his skin, and it was almost too much to bear. It was perfect. It was everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he’d ever dreamed of.
His movements grew more urgent, more deliberate—driven not by lust, but by a desperate instinct to make sure I knew. That I felt it. All of it.
“I love you,” he gasped, the words torn from his throat—raw, broken, honest. He needed me to know. To understand. To feel it in the way he touched me, the way he kissed me, the way he breathed me in like he couldn’t get enough.
His control was slipping fast, the edges of the world blurring until there was nothing left but this. Me. This moment. This love, in its purest, most desperate form.
I didn’t want it to end.
But it was building—rising, unstoppable.
I could feel him unraveling in my arms, every breath he took getting shakier, every movement deeper—more desperate. Like he was pouring everything he had into me. Every ache. Every prayer. Every silent scream he’d swallowed behind prison walls.
“I love you,” he said again, and it was almost a cry this time—like the words had clawed their way out of him, like they couldn’t stay buried a second longer.
“I love you too,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
His forehead pressed against mine, and for a moment, he stilled—our hearts racing together, bodies trembling as if trying to memorize the exact shape of each other. Then I felt it—that last, broken wave washing over him. The way he buried his face into my neck, his fingers digging into my hips, his whole body surrendering to the feeling as he finally let go.
I held him through it. Anchored him. Whispered his name like a balm.
He collapsed onto me, not heavy, just present. Just Spencer. His breath was warm against my collarbone, soft and uneven. His arms never loosened, like if he let go, I might slip through his fingers again.
I cradled the back of his head with one hand and traced lazy shapes across his back with the other. Stars. Spirals. Infinity signs.
He didn’t speak, not at first. Just breathed. Listened to my heartbeat. Grounded himself in the soft rhythm of the only thing that hadn’t left him.
Then he whispered, “Please don’t let this be a dream.”
His voice was so quiet, I barely caught it—just a fragile breath against my skin.
I tightened my arms around him, kissed the crown of his head. “It’s not a dream,” I murmured. “I’m here. We’re here.”
His breath stuttered, and I felt the tremble in his shoulders before he pulled in a deep, shaky inhale.
We lay like that for a while. Twined together. Skin on skin. Nothing but our bodies and the quiet hum of fluorescent lights overhead. It wasn’t a hotel room, or a bed at home. But right now, it was the safest place in the world. Because he was in my arms. Because he still felt like Spencer.
I ran my fingers through his hair, curling soft strands behind his ear. “You’re okay,” I whispered. “You’re okay now.”
His body trembled against mine—not from what we’d just done, but from the release of something heavier. Like tension stored in his muscles had finally found an exit.
He was quiet for a long time.
Then, barely above a whisper: “You know I have an eidetic memory. I can remember what you wore the first time we met, what song was playing the first time we kissed…”
He swallowed, voice catching.
“But lately, I… I’ll be lying in bed and I can’t recall the exact sound of your laugh. Or how your hair smelled that morning you fell asleep on the couch. I know it’s in there, but it’s like I have to dig for it, like it’s fading behind noise.”
I felt him tense again, like he was waiting for me to flinch. I didn’t.
I pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “It’s not fading. You’re just exhausted. You don’t have to hold on so tight, Spence. I’m here. I’ll remind you of everything.”
He nodded against my forehead, the motion subtle, like it took effort just to believe me.
We shifted slowly until we lay side by side, still tangled under the thin blanket. His body curled slightly toward mine—unconscious, like instinct. Like a plant bending toward light.
I rested my head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. It was slower now. Grounded.
But I could still feel it—the tension he hadn’t released. The thoughts that hadn’t been said.
For a long moment, we just lay there in the hush, the kind of silence that feels full, not empty. His fingers brushed absentmindedly against my arm, over and over, like a reflex. Like he was still making sure I was real.
Then his voice, low and raw, cut through the quiet.
“I don’t even know if I did it.”
I stilled.
His breath hitched, just slightly. “The murder. The setup. Whatever this is. There are hours of that night that I… I don’t remember. And that terrifies me.”
He swallowed hard, like the words had burned on their way out.
“I keep thinking—what if the reason I don’t remember isn’t because someone drugged me, or manipulated me, or because I was targeted—what if it’s because I did it? What if I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be?”
He laughed then—quiet and bitter. A single breath through his nose that didn’t even try to disguise the self-loathing underneath.
“I mean, isn’t that the irony? The guy with the perfect memory, the one who can’t forget anything… can’t remember the one thing that could save him.”
My hand found his, instinctively, lacing our fingers together.
“Spencer—” I whispered.
But he shook his head, eyes glued to the ceiling. “I’ve been going over it again and again. I’ve reconstructed the timeline. I’ve looked at it like I would any other case. But when it’s me... everything blurs. I can't trust my own mind. And if I can’t trust that, then what do I have left?”
He turned to look at me then—finally—and it gutted me.
Not because of the tears in his eyes. But because he wasn’t fighting them anymore.
“You didn’t do it,” I said, firm despite the lump in my throat.
His brow furrowed, bitter and disbelieving. “How can you be so sure of that? I mean—I went to Mexico without telling you. I’ve been lying. Hiding things. Being secretive about this whole mess since the beginning.” He let out a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s not exactly the behavior of an innocent man.”
I reached for his hand again, squeezing it tightly. “Honey, I know you didn’t do it,” I said softly. “Because I know you. As cliché as that might sound.”
He turned his face slightly toward the wall, like he couldn’t bear to look at me while I said it.
“I know the way your voice goes quiet when you’re scared,” I continued. “I know the way your hands shake when something feels out of your control. I know how hard you try to do the right thing even when it hurts you. I know how much you love. How deeply. How fiercely. And I know you would never—never—hurt someone like that.”
I swallowed hard, pressing my forehead to the side of his.
“You're not perfect. You mess up. You shut people out. But Spencer... you are not a killer.”
His jaw clenched, a tear slipping down the side of his face and into the pillow.
“But what if I’m broken?” he asked, and it came out so small, it didn’t sound like him at all. “What if prison is breaking me, and I don’t even realize how far it’s gone?”
“Then we’ll get through it together.” I whispered. “I’m not saying I can put you back together, because I cant… but I sure as hell will try to help you through this.”
He let out a shaky breath—half a sob, half a sigh—and pulled me into him like I was the only thing tethering him to the world.
We stayed like that for a while, curled into each other. No sound but the ticking clock we were both trying to ignore.
But I felt the shift in him—the way his grip loosened, the way his breath hitched again. He was spiraling. Quietly, but fully.
I reached up and cupped his face in my hands.
“Spence, look at me.”
He hesitated, then let his eyes find mine. They were glassy, full of fear. Shame. Exhaustion.
“You're still in there,” I whispered. “Even when you feel lost. Even when your mind starts telling you lies. You're still in here.”
I took his hand gently and guided it to the center of my chest.
“Feel that?”
He nodded, lips trembling.
“That’s yours,” I whispered. “You’re still in here with me.”
His face crumpled then, and I wiped the tears that spilled over before they could fall too far. My thumbs brushed his cheekbones, my forehead resting lightly against his.
“You’re not alone,” I breathed. “You never were.”
We held each other like that as the minutes slipped away from us. Soon enough the minutes turned to hours, all spent with us talking and holding each-other.
I didn’t want to remind him of the time, but it reminded us anyway.
The sharp ring of the phone on the nightstand cut through the silence.
I flinched.
Spencer didn’t move at first. Just stared at it. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled like the air had been knocked out of him.
I reached for it, hand trembling.
“Time’s up,” the voice on the other end said. No warmth. No pause. “You have five minutes to dress and prepare the inmate for escort.”
I didn’t respond. Just hung up.
Spencer sat up slowly, moving like his bones didn’t want to cooperate. Like gravity had gotten meaner in the last hour.
I helped him dress, my hands moving on autopilot—straightening seams, buttoning cuffs, smoothing down the stiff collar of his prison uniform even though it didn’t matter. It was a pointless gesture, but I needed the contact. I needed something to do. Something to get my mind off this awful feeling of leaving him.
My fingers trembled, clumsy and obvious, and I hated that I couldn’t stop it. That I couldn’t hold it together for him, even now.
He watched me the entire time. Quiet. Still. His hands stayed at his sides, balled gently into fists like he was physically holding himself back from touching me. His jaw was tight, lips parted slightly like there was something he wanted to say—but couldn’t.
Then he stood.
And I stood.
And something in the room shifted. Broke.
I stepped into him without thinking—without breathing—and he caught me like he’d been waiting for it. My arms wrapped around his torso, and his came around me just as fast, one hand splayed across the back of my head, the other curling around my spine like he was afraid I’d disappear.
I pressed my face into his chest and let myself fall apart. The sob started in my throat and cracked its way out, ugly and trembling and loud. I didn’t try to muffle it. Not anymore. My whole body shook with it, and he just held me tighter, swaying us gently like he could rock us back in time.
“I don’t want you to go,” I choked out, the words barely making it past my grief. “I don’t want to leave you here.”
“I know,” he whispered. His voice sounded scraped raw, like he’d been crying on the inside for weeks. Maybe he had.
He kissed the top of my head, soft and lingering. Then my temple. Then my lips—a kiss with no pressure, no heat. Just ache. Just love. His eyes were wide open the whole time, like he didn’t want to blink. Like he didn’t want to miss me for even a second.
Then the knock came.
Two sharp taps against the door. Not rude, but not kind either. It was the sound of routine. The sound of time’s up.
Spencer stilled. I felt the breath leave his lungs like he’d been punched. His arms didn’t drop right away. He lingered, like his body hadn’t caught up with what had to happen next.
Then, slowly, he stepped back. Not because he wanted to.
Because he had to.
His eyes darted over me like he was taking inventory—my face, my hands, my mouth. He was memorizing again. Storing me somewhere safe.
And then he turned toward the door.
But just before it opened, he paused.
He turned back, and for a moment, we just looked at each other.
I was standing there, my hands on the hem of my shirt, clutching it like it could keep me together. My tears had blurred everything, but not enough to lose him. Never enough to lose him.
His face was unreadable—but not empty. It was full. Of everything he couldn’t say. Of every goodbye he couldn’t bear to speak aloud.
His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach for me again.
But he didn’t.
And then the door opened.
He looked at me one last time.
And then he was gone.
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bunni-v1 · 6 months ago
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Hnnghh christmas Lighter smut where reader is dressed in nothing but a long ribbon and bow bc he’s been a good boy this year
🍓Did u read my mind? Get outta there… jkjk, but seriously this is EXACLTY what I was thinking about. I really can’t dedicate the time to a full fic, which breaks my little gay heart, but imagine with me if you would… (this is a full fic btw i fucking lied to you and myself)
Tw: Nsfw; kinda rough (not too rough); UNEDITED ITS HORRENDOUS
Mdni
Christmas with the Sons of Calydon is pretty atypical. They have their own traditions that most New Eirduians would scoff at, but they’re rather important to those who live in these parts. Drinking, singing together (usually drunkenly and offkey), taking bike rides out to start a fire and literally burn away past regrets of the year, and of course fights — plenty of fights.
You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting part, usually meant more work for you to do, but Lighter always seemed to have fun. Obviously he did, he never lost — he hardly broke a sweat for the most part. And he loved showing off, especially if you were there to watch him. Everything else was mostly normal, though… a little odd but custom made to your little ragtag group, and you loved it.
It felt warm, cozy, like family. They passed out gifts, most of them hand made or incredibly thoughtful since money was scarce for most of you. Lighter had gotten you a (rather expensive) bracelet with your and his initials engraved on it. It was sweet, and unexpected from the guy who pretended like the holiday was nothing for the months leading up to it.
It made you melt on the inside and feel nice and warm. However… his nonchalance about the holiday cause you one… teeny tiny, itty bitty problem. You had no clue what to get him, and you hadn’t gotten him anything — time had run out and no one would give you any good hints.
His insistence that you didn’t need to get him anything in return made your stomach ache. It was hard to focus on his fight when your head was rushing with ways to rectify the horrific mistake you’d made quickly. The red ribbon of the jewelry box wrapped around your fingers tightly, then unwound as you mulled over your options.
You could get him something for his bike, but you’d have to drive to the city and it’s unlikely he’d let you go without him — that’s if the stores were even open this late on a holiday. Maybe you could craft up something quick and easy, if you could get back to your place there surely would be something, but… that felt cheap. Especially compared to the bracelet.
“That ribbon’s pretty,” Caesar says next to you, drawing you from your thoughts, “Must’ve been one real fancy place he went to for ya.”
You sigh, leaning back against the wall a little, looking at the ribbon as you twisted it around, “I’m sure it was. He’s so hopeless sometimes.”
“Only because you’re so sweet on him,” She teases, nudging your shoulder lightly.
A laugh huffs out of your chest, then an idea strikes you. The ribbon is pretty. You actually had some like it back at your place, stored away from last years festivities. You twist the ribbon one last time, and then you grin, wide and wild. Lighter catches your eye as he socks his opponent in the jaw, smirking at you like he’d won a prize.
“Hey, Caesar,” You hum, turning to your friend who seemed a little uneasy at your expression, “How long do you think you can keep him distracted for me.”
She hums, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ll buy ya fifteen minutes — wait, why?”
“You’ll hear later~” You hum with a wink, and practically skip back to your place, leaving Caesar alone to deal with your very adrenaline filled boyfriend on her own.
It takes you half the time Caesar said she could get you to find the damn ribbon, and the other half is spent fighting for your life to get the thing on and look at least a little sexy. You tried to recall old articles you’d read on bondage and shibari, but it was hard to do without a guide. You’d managed to get all the good bits wrapped up and hidden, with a few extra crosses to make it look pretty.
You don’t get a chance to check because you hear Lighters heavy footsteps outside the door nearly as soon as you’ve tied the bow comfortably around your neck. Your able to sort’ve arrange yourself seductively on the bed for him just as the front door open and he calls out to you. You could tell he was annoyed from his voice alone. He never liked it when you left his shows early.
“Caesar told me you headed back here,” He called, boots thumping as he threw them off, “We’re you not enjoying the show?”
It’s a tease, you know it is, but there was an underlying annoyance in his voice that sent a tingle up your spine. He pushes the bedroom door open incredibly slowly, to the point you think he’s trying to surprise you with something. You have the gall to feel stupid for a moment right before his eyes land on you, and he stops at he takes in the sight.
There is an audible shudder as his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. He takes his sunglasses off, revealing those pretty green eyes that rake in every inch of you with hunger. Then, he smirks, shoving the bedroom door closed with his shoulder already working his gloves and jacket off to the floor. Forgotten without a second thought. The rest of his clothes follow quickly after.
“Merry Christmas!” You cheer, though you’re more nervous than happy. He clearly likes it, according to the quickly growing tent in his pants and how fast he is to strip himself, but he’s a little too quiet for your liking.
He sinks onto the mattress in front of you, hands ghosting around the bright red ribbon. Like if he touches it, it’ll all fall apart in his grasp. He traces each inch of it with careful practiced restraint, following the fabrics flow across your body until he remembers that you are under the fabric and he lands on your face.
His eyes soften when you smile nervously up at him, fingers tracing the apple of your cheek with such admiration it nearly makes you cry. “You like it?” You ask softly, unsure of yourself.
He scoffs like you’re stupid for wondering, “This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
It draws a genuine laugh out of you, which he follows with his own as he comes down to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Then a soft kiss that trails down to your lips, easing you into a slow careful dance of love and passion.
He readjusts your position so carefully, you almost don’t notice he’s doing it until he’s between your legs. Pressing them open then pressing his dick to the ribbons wrapping up your folds from him. You’re already dripping, the adrenaline from earlier enough to get you going, but the added friction just makes it worse. You’d never be able to reuse this stuff, that’s for sure.
His hands glide over your stomach, following the ribbon with lazy easy until he’s found the one covering you from him. His thumbs slide under the pieces, rubbing over the flesh of your abdomen gently. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva keeping you connected as he presses his forehead to yours.
“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He murmurs quietly, “You could’ve given me a smile and I would’ve been happy.”
You shy away, “Well… I almost didn’t have anything to get you, but your gift, mmm, inspired me.”
He chuckles at you, reaching down to run his dick against your still covered folds. The silky fabric oddly making everything feel more intense. “I can see that. Very cute, by the way.”
“I know, thank you,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he presses the two of you back into a laying position, “Now are you gonna unwrap your present, or are you gonna keep teasing yourself.”
A roll of the eyes and another smirk, “Y’know, I’ve never been a fan of ruining the wrapping paper. Shits expensive… so how about we go nice and slow.”
As he says that, he slides his dick between the ribbon, right up against your throbbing clit. You let out a surprised sound, quickly melting into sighs of pleasure and he fucks into the ribbon. Each push and pull stimulates your aching pussy into gushing out more for him, clenching on nothing as he fucks himself against you at a leisurely pace.
You take the chance to look down, moaning out as he head of him touches your thigh. The sight is something you’d see in a porno. Lighter follows your eyes, smiling to himself when he catches you practically going cross eyed at the sight.
“We look good together, don’t we, sugar?” He purrs. A rare nickname, sweet and extra praiseworthy — just like he thinks you are.
You nod along with him, fluttering your eyes back to his with a dumb little smile. Each drag of his dick makes your toes curl and nails dig into his broad shoulders. He sighs at the sensation, pressing kisses into your skin to quiet himself up. He’d rather listen to you, after all, and this was a gift for him.
His fingers begin to crawl up your body, dancing along the ribbon excitedly. They make sure to stop and tweak your nipples through the fabric, humming when he feels they’re sufficiently hard and sensitive under his touch. Then, finally, they reach the neatly tied bow around your neck.
The tug at it, gently unwrapping it from your neck and pulling it away with ease. Replacing the red of it with his tongue, licking and sucking new marks into the flesh. Your hips stutter against his, and he lets out a groan, squeezing your tit as warning. You whine, but don’t fight him anymore. His hands returning to unraveling the ribbon, pressing into the skin revealed until he is the only thing keeping the ribbon and his dick pressed against you.
You pout a little when he pulls away, pussy aching for friction once his dick is gone. You feel it clench as it looks for him, and god it makes you feel like a whore. He takes your hands from his shoulder and leans over you to tie them to the bed board above your head. You can feel how wet your were at the wrists, especially when he kisses them reassuringly.
“I love you tied up,” He hums, “You’re so pretty when you can’t do anything.”
You pout up at him, but he doesn’t stay to admire the look long, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the condoms. It occurs to you, in a state of lust driven stupor, that he shouldn’t have to fuck his christmas gift with a condom on.
“Ah, wait—“ He raises an eyebrow at you, hand just inches away from the condoms, “Would you wanna do it raw?”
He blinks at you, again surprised in the same way he was when he first saw you. “Are you serious?”
“We don’t have to—“ You quickly try to rectify the situation, but he cuts you off.
“No, no, we definitely have to,” He shakes his head, closing the drawer with one swift motion, “You’re trying to kill me out here, aren’t you?”
You shake your head, but he’s not listening as he pulls you up into the position he likes most. Legs over his shoulders, body bent in half so he can fuck you hard and fast. He gives you a few seconds to adjust to the position, then he’s pressing his dick into you at a painfully slow pace.
It’s because he’s just so big, he always has to go slow, but you wish he’d just fuck you through the pain right now. The stretch is perfect as always, and you suck him in like it’s nothing with how wet you already were.
He cusses when he finally bottoms out, pressing his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his hot breath fan against your skin, tingling deliciously. “Fuck you’re always so tight. I’m never gonna get used to it, sugar.”
You hum, though you’re in no better shape. Shivering and shuddering every inch, and still quaking as he sits still inside you. You play with his hair to distract from how hot you are, and how you wish he’d make you hotter.
He gives himself a moment to calm down, then he presses a kiss you your cheek, readjusts you just a little so your muscles don’t tense up, and then he moves. The first three thrusts are slow and easy, then he starts to slam into you hard.
“Oh fuck—“ You cry out as the deafening smack of his hips into your ass rings out across the room.
The pace he sets is brutal and unrelenting, you were hoping for it all night. The unspent adrenaline from his earlier fights coming right back to fuck you so good you know you won’t be walking tomorrow. Each slap of his balls against your quickly reddening ass is accompanied by a stifled moan.
He watches you with an intensity you weren’t aware he was capable of, eyes drinking in every single inch of your expression. He looked crazed, but that’s what made it so hot. He was obsessed with every little look, every little sound that left you.
“Don’t be quiet, sugar,” He hums, pushing two of his fingers along your bottom row of teeth to force the sounds out.
“They’ll hear—“
“Let ‘em,” He dismisses, “They know you’re mine anyway, who cares.”
You really couldn’t argue with that, especially not when he shifts ever so slight to hit your g-spot head on. A salacious moan rips out of your throat, and your sure Caesar has figured out what you were up to earlier from that alone. He doesn’t stop ripping sounds out of you, though, continuing his brutal pace and hitting that spot so well you think you’re seeing stars.
The build up to your orgasm is so quick you hardly have time to realize it’s happening. One second you’re fine the next your throwing your head back and moaning like a whore.
“Lighter- Baby, I’m— fuck me- god I’m gonna cum, Lighter.” You admit, way too loud for your liking.
He hums, seeming to switch gears and fuck you faster somehow, “Go ahead, I’ve got you. Lemme feel you cum for me.”
You nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as start litter your vision. You think you nearly pass out, but Lighters hard thrusts fuck you through your orgasm. You squeeze him so tight, like you’re trying to milk his own out of him. You want him to fill you up, want to feel his warm cum deep in your belly. Want to see it drip down your thighs and pool onto the bed when he pulls out.
“Cum inside, please.” You beg.
“Fuuuck… ‘re you—“
You nod, “I need it, please cum in me. ‘S part of your present.”
He groans, fisting the sheets next to your head, “Suagr, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”
Always one to please, Lighter does exactly as you ask. Filling you to the brim with his thick hot cum. You revel in his moans, and only slightly wish you could curl your nails into his shoulders to leave another christmas gift for the morning.
He eases you into a more comfortable position before collapsing on top of you. His weight is welcome against your spent body, as are the wet kisses he presses into your sore skin. He unties your hand with one of his, and you quickly wrap them up into his hair.
“I love you,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “So much. You’re the best gift a guy can ask for.”
You giggle at the praise, “I love you too, Lighter.”
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levigarden999 · 1 month ago
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levi x femreader fluff
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characters : levi ackerman , fem reader theme : after finding the sea, you and levi go for a swim word count : 1,435 warnings : nudity, mentions of sex notes : hey y'all just a small piece of fluffiness with our dear levi , have a lovely day 🩷
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the wind was certainly colder and harder on the beach than it ever was in the inner land. especially inside the walls the wind was basically sealed away the same way the titans were, or, well, used to be.
the others had already left back to the hq, but you and levi decided to stay behind. the last few weeks had been so hectic and stressful, because of the battle in shiganshina. you two definitely needed some alone time. levi didn't however usually admit the fact he needed a break, he was still firmly a victim of the belief that rest makes a man weak. you had lectured him about this stupid belief for at least a hundred times, but it seemed like you would have to continue for another hundred, maybe even more. the man was annoyingly stubborn, even though it was one of the reasons you loved him so much.
when you did arrive at the beach, the wilder youngsters, like jean, connie and sasha took a swim. you were too shocked by the beautiful sight that it didn’t even cross your mind that you could actually swim there. the idea almost sounded crazy, like, why would someone want to swim in a dirty pool of salt water that is probably deeper than the height of the walls?
you were sitting on the cool sand, your toes deep inside the sand. as you moved your feet in the sea of tiny rocks, it tickled your soles a little in a nice, addictive way. levi refused to even touch the water, so he was still standing on your side with his arms crossed. there was no way he would even sit down, because it would get his uniform dirty and sandy.
”c’mon, levi, let’s go swimming!” you exclaimed, tugging on his leg a little. you pouted, trying to pull off the puppy eyes which he usually softened for.
”no. do you understand how difficult it is to wash sand off from your clothing?” he snapped back, his tone still cold and even. he glared down at you as he stood there and you knew better than to annoy him.
”well, take your clothes off, then” you suggested, with a smirk.
”i would still have to put the clothes back on on my sandy skin, and then the fabric would get sandy. so, no” he repeated with that same, annoying-ass matter-of-fact tone.
you were about to say something back, but he continued. ”-also, don’t even suggest washing myself in the water. i would rather not ride back to hq with salt in my ass and groins.”
fuck. you were just about to suggest that.
you stayed there in silence for a minute, until you got an idea. a devious smirk formed on your lips as you tugged on his pants again.
”levi… you remember the tea you drank a few months ago at the doctor’s office? when you were injured?” you said, a suggestive tone creeping into your tone.
”yes. it was a rare tea and the tea leaves grow only on a plant that grows in literal shit and mud. what about it?” he focused his eyes down on you again and you could see the way the scowl between his eyebrows deepened. you got him curious.
you slowly stood up and smirked, while your fingers lingered on his shoulder.
”how about i go and pick that plant up and prepare that tea for you?” you suggested with a seductive smirk. yes, seductive looks while talking about tea worked on levi wonderfully.
levi’s eyes visibly widened, and his eyebrows raised. you could basically see the way his gaze softened at the memory of the delicious tea he had drank. even for tea, he wouldn’t risk dirtying himself up like that by picking up a plant by himself in mud.
”you would? you would crawl in shit for me?”
”yes. but only if you swim with me now”
it was surprisingly easy to get levi to comply after all. you always thought levi was different from every man, but it seemed like he was the same after all. the only thing different was that you got him to comply to anything with the promise of tea, not sex. a promise of sex wouldn’t had worked, anyway, because you would’ve gave it to him anyway.
you watched as levi firstly took off his combat boots and settled them neatly on the sand, making sure they wouldn’t fall. then, he started to take off the belts on his thighs and waist. you began to do the same.
once you had managed to get everything off, you neatly folded the pieces of fabric and laid them on the sand. you stood there with your underwear, watching as levi took the last bits of clothing off. he was slightly bent over as he pulled his slacks off, and the light coming from the sun made his pale back look even more muscular than it already was. his shoulders and biceps were clenched as he pulled the material off and once it was off, he stood back straight and folded everything.
”hurry up, it’s cold.” you shivered in the wind as you had your arms around you, as if it did anything to protect you from the cold breeze. he turned his head towards you, but didn’t hurry up. however, it almost felt like his eyes took their damn time to roam over your form.
once he was done with folding and placing the clothes on the tips of his shoes, he offered his hand.
”come on. i’ll go first, make sure it’s safe” he said calmly and you took his hand. his skin was usually cold, but right now it felt warmer than usually as you two made it to the water.
the water felt cold on your feet as you walked deeper, but you didn’t care. you were focused on watching how the wind blew on levi’s hair, making it slightly messier than it usually was. his undercut had been recently shaved and it looked beautiful.
you pressed closer to his skin, for warmth. he allowed it without any words, and led you further into the water.
”brrr-” you shivered as the cold water hit above your navel, and you could basically feel it all the way inside your lungs. a few seagulls were laughing at you in the air and the sun was still bright, even though the orange tint in the sky hinted that it was getting late soon.
levi stopped walking once the water was touching your chests and he turned to you. you could see the way the almost invisible hairs on his skin were turned upwards, he was having goosebumps as well.
”you okay?” he asked softly, yet firmly. you looked at his eyes, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed like usually, but now in a caring, concerned way. he always made sure you were safe, even in situations where it was completely unnecessary. you reached your arms around him and rested your chin on his shoulder.
”’s cold, levi” you mumbled into his skin and inside the water, you felt his arms reaching around your body as well. for a second, there was nothing but the cold sensation of the unknown sea on your skin and the exact opposite sensation of warmth and safety of levi on your skin as well. the wind blew a little harder, making your hair tangle in the salty sea air. it was peaceful, it was beautiful, it was unfamiliar.
”it is, love” he whispered back, his lips gently touching the shell of your ear. you felt his hands caressing your back in the water, your bare skins wrapped around each other in a comforting way.
”let’s dip”  you suggested after another beat of peaceful, comforting silence. you pulled your head back and looked at him again. the tip of his sharp nose was slightly red from the cold breeze, and there was a hint of blue in his normally grey eyes now. the sea probably mirrored some of the color to his eyes.
”okay, but don’t let go of me, okay?” he said softly with a hint of firmness, worry in his tone. the arms wrapped around you tightened their grip a little. he was apparently worried that the sea would just suck you in and make you disappear or something.
”i won’t let go” you nodded, and for a second, there was a small smile on his pale, thin lips. you tightened your grip around him as well. skin against skin, heart against heart, human against human.
you both inhaled, and disappeared underwater.
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karver518 · 25 days ago
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SOOO guess who had another dream about Shadow Milk Cookie and Dreamweavers!! It’s SUPER long this time because I had a super long nap, so be prepared for that. 
So, Shadow Milk Cookie accidentally introduced Dreamweaver Y/N to Pure Vanilla Cookie a while ago due to Y/N falling out of Shadow Milk’s hair when he and PV were talking to each other, and Shadow Milk was not happy about it whatsoever, since he was really hoping that Y/N would never meet Pure Vanilla at all. He started to become especially unhappy about PV and Y/N meeting because Y/N was slowly spending more time with PV than him, and to him, that meant that Y/N was eventually going to abandon him.
Instead of talking to Y/N about that, though, Shadow Milk decided to sulk in his spire and think all of the worst thoughts he could about himself and Y/N hanging out with Pure Vanilla while watching them spend time with each other, and Y/N isn’t talking to Shadow Milk about hanging out with Pure Vanilla more because Shadow Milk hasn’t said anything about it yet so they think everything is perfectly fine (small confession here I hate the miscommunication trope so bad. Why was it in my dream, then? I don’t know. I love making myself suffer, I guess. ;◅;)
At some point, Y/N comes back from hanging out with PV, and Shadow Milk is just. Absolutely suffering. That’s the best way I can put it. Y/N wants to know what’s wrong, but before they can do anything, Shadow Milk decides to lash out at them and tell them that if he knew they would replace him with a worse version of himself the first chance they got, then he wishes he never met them at all. Y/N tries to explain themself so that Shadow Milk understands he’s not being replaced, but Shadow Milk wants them out of his spire completely, so they leave. 
Shadow Milk and Y/N don’t talk to each other for several days, and Shadow Milk is starting to regret saying what he did, because he misses Y/N’s company a lot. But he’ll never admit that at all, ‘cause man who likes having emotions amirite?? At least he doesn’t admit that until Pure Vanilla eventually comes over to his spire and tells him that Y/N has been very, very upset about him not wanting them around anymore. But Shadow Milk acts like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, because why would Y/N care about him anymore? They’ve got Pure Vanilla now, and they obviously like him much more. But Pure Vanilla explains that that’s not true, because the reason they wanted to hang out with Pure Vanilla so much is because Y/N needed his help to make gifts for Shadow Milk to thank them for his hospitality toward them, but they couldn’t do it themselves because they’re much too small to make the gifts they wanted to. 
And while Shadow Milk is feeling even worse about what he said to Y/N because he realized that he essentially kicked out someone who genuinely cared about him, Pure Vanilla is giving him some of the gifts he and Y/N were making for him, which were a thank you letter and a plush of Y/N. Pure Vanilla then starts talking about a bouquet that he and Y/N didn’t get to finish because Shadow Milk kicked them out, but as he’s talking about it, Y/N is behind him, dragging the bouquet across the floor (because like the other gifts, it’s huge and they’re really, really small) PV sees this and picks them up along with the bouquet, and hands them to Shadow Milk, who is now deeply apologizing for everything he said. Y/N accepts the apology and gives him a lil smooch on the hand. I don’t remember much else after that but I remember Shadow Milk saying something like “you’re so tiny, how am I going to give you a kiss too?” and Y/N was blushing quite a lot because he was apparently looking at their lips.
ANYWAY I’m so sorry this was so long but I really hope you enjoyed this!! As I said before, I’ll definitely let you know if I have any more dreams regarding your au!
I just woke up and holy shit, woah even
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dduane · 1 month ago
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I was so thrilled to get to the end of the very long Star Trek food replicator discussion and see you there! Nothing else to say except I adore your writing and it was highly exciting, like being server an after-dinner mint from an Earth restaurant and reading a line of tiny print on the label identifying it as something that won't exist for another thousand years.
You're very welcome. I'm delighted you've enjoyed my stuff!
(And anyway, I'm a such a sucker for the small print, myself...)
Nita raised her eyebrows at the slug line of one [advertising] feature. "NASA's gonna be glad to hear we've got a ruthless and terrible space fleet." Carmela snickered. ..."Yeah, but 'Mela, you know as well as I do it's not true! Is putting something like this out there smart?" "Why not? If everybody thinks Earth has a big aggressive space fleet, no one'll bother turning up on our doorstep with one, will they." ...Nita squinted to read the block of tiny, tiny print at the bottom of the promotional feature, again displayed in English to ease the handling of some of the more obscure Rirhait idioms. “…Wait. ‘Earth’, ‘Mysterious Earth’ and ‘Mother Earth The Legendary Home Of Humankind’ are licensed trademarks of Gaia Protectorate CRLLC, terms and conditions apply, planetary descriptions may change from time to time without notice at management’s discretion—” And then in the tiniest print possible, “—battle fleet not included’??” “Legalese,” Carmela said, craning her neck to see ahead of them. “It’s not like the disclaimers actually have any force in law, really, once you’ve—” “I can’t believe this,” Nita said. “‘CRLLC?’ Did you incorporate the entire planet Earth somewhere?!” “Here, actually,” Carmela said. “The corporate tax rate here is reeeeeeeeallly low. Especially if you’ve saved the place from alien invasion. At which point it drops to zero. …If not lower.” Nita’s mouth dropped open. “And why're you looking so shocked? You cosigned the incorporation documents when we were here last.” Being reduced to speechlessness around Carmela was hardly a new experience for Nita, but this particular incidence was setting new records for the underlying implications...
—How Lovely Are Thy Branches
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the-ancient-dragons · 10 months ago
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EXTRA OVERCOMPLICATED ICEWIIIIINGS
You know how it goes, Joy Ang is cool and I'm not yadda yadda move on.
Details and explanation below!
Otherwise, next week is the last Pyrrhian tribe: NightWings!!!! See you then!
More overcomplicated dragons.
If the RainWings are the design that destroys Joy's work the least, this one takes the original IceWings and tosses them out the window. Going into this design I knew it would be hard, but boy was I unprepared to get art block for 2 months because of it.
I eventually found my inspiration in the girdled, spiny, and horned lizards, They. Are. So. Freaking cool. If you think a crocodile skink is awesome, look up girdled lizards. Not as fancy with the eyeliner but they are SPIKY!
I fell in love in particular with the giant girdled lizard. I knew I wanted the scales of the IceWing to look rough and like they were made of actual ice or diamonds - or covered in frozen sleet and snow - and this lizard was basically perfect inspo for that. Also, blue spiny lizards. They are basically real life IceWings, full stop.
But even though I had perfect references to draw from, I still struggled with the head shape. I wanted them to feel like a reptilian polar bear, which is why I slightly blunted it, but I think I should have gone with a more angular shape instead. I can always change it later when I do their full-body.
I did have a very fun time with the horns, however. I wanted them to be a mix of narwhal teeth and icicles (yes, narwhal 'horns' are actually overgrown teeth. One tooth, usually, but sometimes they can have two!!). Before I get distracted I should explain how they grow: the scales at the base of the horn are constantly growing and essentially create the horn. That's what gives them their narwhal-like spirals.
I chose a similar approach to the neck spikes (untangling that mess was fun, let me tell you. Grids are very useful when doing many scales/spikes). At the base of each one you'll notice a scale forming it. On the back, I wanted to give a good side profile of the spikes. Technically, they are ever-growing, and need to be trimmed or sharpened constantly.
Now, as I was drawing them, I asked myself: why do IceWings need a mane of spikes?
A stupid question, you might wonder, but to me it's very important. Animals look the way they do for survival. So, while it's important visually for the ice theme, how could they be explained scientifically?
And then, when thinking of polar bears, I got my answer.
How the hell does a giant sparkly dragon hunt in the north? Seals would probably be part of their diet, but it's hard to sneak up on them if you're a ten ton reptilian flying creature, so I imagine they would tackle the problem like a polar bear would by waiting by a breathing hole and pouncing at the right moment. They already look like a frozen snowbank, so that part is easy.
But any hungry polar bear would be doing the same thing, and like a giant dragon, they would be waiting downwind of the breathing hole too. They wouldn't pose a threat to adult dragons or dragonets larger than them, but in real life polar bears are dangerous hunters and prey on humans. Why wouldn't it prey on a dragonet it thinks it can take on? Things in the WOF universe seem to be extra big (or scavengers/humans are tiny) so I think it would be a feasible for a desperate bear to hunt a dragon. They cannibalize, anyway, so going after another apex predator isn't out of the question. In this case, the horns and neck spikes would be a dragonet's saving grace, discouraging attacks from behind and especially on their necks. A bear's teeth could never get through their scales, but they could still crush their airways and choke them, and the spikes would keep them away from their necks and protect them from that fate. As they grow up, the neck spikes' length and strength could be used to determine a dragon's health and help them select good partners.
Finally, continuing with the bear theme: for the scales, I took inspiration from polar bear fur (which is actually hollow) to help design how IceWings preserve their body heat. In polar bears, its used to make them look white by reflecting the light of the sun, but in IceWings it could keep the cold out. Air pockets would create a barrier between them and the outside elements, and whatever gets in would meet their thick layer of fat that does the real warming. Yes, IceWings would be squishy, but you'd probably poke your eye out or stick permanently to their side a la tongue to cold metal pole.
Don't hug IceWings; they're very cold.
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tqmies · 2 years ago
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Love Guard | Lee Chan
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Description. Lifeguard Lee Chan is a pain in your ass, and you swear he's only picked up this job to ogle at girls in bikinis. Little did you know, the only girl he wants to look at is you — not that you'd ever let him tell you that though — Especially now that you're convinced he's in love with your co-worker.
Pairing. Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader
Warnings. Curse words, (Pretend) Drowning, Karina attempts to meddle, Fluff, Chan's so whipped, Swimming, E2L (One sided)
Word count. 9.2k (Oops?)
Note: Summer has been over but I couldn't help myself! Welcome to my first Seventeen fic! Not 100% sure if I like this one but feedback is always appreciated!
"Two weeks." You repeat to yourself, attempting to calm yourself by digging your fingers into the squishy material of the rescue tube you have strapped on. Only two weeks left until the local waterpark is closed for the year — and until you have to look for another job — but the point remains a positive one.
In exactly two weeks from now, you will be freed from your own personal hell in human form, otherwise known as Lee Chan. Even when he's not stationed at the same ride as you, he's always finding his way over in your general proximity, just like he is now.
He's chatting up a few girls who look gorgeous in their tight fighting bikini sets, and you just about scoff at how obvious he is. You and Karina are set at the wave pool right now, and you feel bad for whatever station Chan is supposed to be manning. Does he ever do his job?
Karina quirks her head, her long ponytail falling to her side. "I heard he was supposed to be with the flow rider."
Ah yes the flow rider, the stationary surfing machine that tiny children and older adults alike swear they can do. You've only had to operate it once, and let's just say you complained so much you never had to do it again. Just this once, you can understand why he wandered over to the other side of the park.
"Vernon probably took over and kicked him out." You shrug, knowing how serious the older male takes his job.
"I hope so." Your friend giggles, patting your shoulder as she walks away. You notice her hand on the whistle, she must've spotted a few kids running again, nothing out of the ordinary.
A few feet away, Chan is just about whining into these poor girls ears. He smirks at them. “Is she looking this way?”
The girl on his left — whose name Chan hasn't caught — glances over her shoulder and then turns back. “She’s not, she’s watching the pool.”
One of the other girls snorts. “Looks like she’s doing her job.”
"That makes one of us." Chan slumps dramatically before an idea pops into his head. (The girls swear they could see a lightbulb above his head in that moment).
Chan swivels into the water after he stood to his feet, the others awaiting his revelation. "Okay, I'm going to need one of you to pretend you're drowning."
"Drowning?!" The blonde girl's jaw drops. Chan doesn't see why he has to explain it though. They would simply pretend they were drowning, he'd jump in all heroic like, and save them. And in the process, you'd notice and commend him for being so cool.
Chan was a genius, he nodded to himself.
So after explaining the plan to girl's that he had just met today, well about twenty minutes ago, he's ready to get this show on the road. He's lucky the girls felt bad for him after he gave the typical sob story on how his crush hated him. Otherwise, they probably wouldn't have agreed.
The blonde girl submerges herself into the water, on purpose, as Chan prepares to take action. But first, he had to take his shirt off. Oh don't act so shocked, he's literally trying to get your attention! He's not above showing a little skin!
You don't even notice though, too preoccupied with watching some children jump on each other. You approach them and politely tell them to not attempt to kill each other under the water. You didn't even think that needs to be said but, this job surprised you every day.
However, the minute you turn around, you notice some arm's flailing around in the water. It was the area where Chan was just standing, but he's nowhere to be found now. Shit! You were going to have to act, and fast!
So you dive into the water, peeling your eyes open in the chlorine to find the girl. You reach her in record time, using your rescue buoy to grab her and pull her out. You lay her on the concrete, shaking her shoulders and gaining no response.
"Someone get me an AED!" You shout, preparing to begin CPR. Karina rushes to your side, asking any bystanders if they knew what happened and trying to gain more information about the situation. Thank goodness for her.
A crowd begins to form around you as you recall the CPR process in your head, ready to begin when you're abruptly shoved out of the way.
"I got it!" Chan explains, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You're too stunned to reply so you just let him take the lead, watching his next moves in silence.
He barely starts to push on her chest when her eyes shoot open, and she begins coughing up imaginary water. You're a bit suspicious, but this was your first time dealing with an unconscious victim, guess you'd just been lucky so far.
She sits up as she starts talking, waving her hands around. "Don't call 9-1-1 or anything! I'm fine!"
Karina leans forward. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" The girl replies, before easily standing to her feet as she rushes out, her friends following behind her. They didn't even have their shoes on?
Chan watches them in defeat as you and Karina silently gape at each other. The girl had run away steadily, no signs of being disoriented for someone who had just been unconscious. It did all happen so fast though, maybe you weren't seeing things right.
Karina is the first to stand. "What just happened?"
You shake your head, your now wet hair dripping on you. "I don't even know."
Chan doesn't look as confused as you two though, but never mind that, you had a bone to pick with him first.
"And where the hell were you?"
Chan barely registers you speaking to him, as he's mentally recounting how his plan went awry. "I was getting my CPR keychain."
You want to bang your head against the ground. "You didn't have it on you?"
Hey, give him a break. He's human too! He forgets things sometimes, it can't be that bad! However, if he was going to convincingly look like he was saving the girl earlier, he had to have his keychain on him. Which is why he ran off looking for it...
"I left it in my locker." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.
"God, just put a shirt on Lee." You stand to your feet. "And please do us all a favor and stay in your station."
"So you acknowledge that you checked me out?"
You deadpan. "I acknowledge that you make my job harder because an old woman almost slipped on the shirt you threw off!"
Had he really thrown his shirt? He didn't even notice, your wording had to be a bit exaggerated.
You cross your arms as you head back to the other side of the pool, back into your comfy life guard chair. And preferably, as far away from Lee Chan as possible.
..
"Then he shows up like some fucking hero and interferes with me doing my job!" You state sarcastically, slipping your sweatshirt on as you stand by your locker. Screwing the cap back onto your water bottle, you sigh.
Minghao, your close friend who you never managed to get stationed with, just listens in mild amusement. "But he saved the girl, right?"
You shake your head as you gather your things. "I don't know if you could call it saving. It was weird, she just up and ran off."
Minghao giggles. "Are you sure she was drowning?"
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say no." You admit, the jingling of a lanyard behind you catching your attention.
"Okay, I'm heading out." Karina says as she holds her bag over her shoulders. Your brain is too busy trying to configure how she looks so cute after a full day at work. You were sure you looked as worn-out as you felt.
"MIngyu's still around here somewhere. And Seungkwan and Chan are still in the back, I saw them fighting with the pool nets." Karina continues, referring to the long wands used to skim the pools for bugs and dirt. Or worse, fecal matter.
Thankfully, that's usually not the case. Nevertheless, you're grateful that wasn't your job today. You did have to lock up though, meaning that you had to get the aforementioned boys up and out.
"I'll get Minghao to yell at them." You nod, and Minghao just laughs.
Back at the pool, Chan is currently shuffling his brain for another plan, one that won't fail this time. Honestly, it probably made you more angry at him than anything. "I have two weeks Kwan."
Seungkwan rolls his eyes. "Oh God."
"Two weeks to make her mine." Chan repeats, rubbing his eyes.
"You're delusional." His friend replies, picking up his own pool stick and heading to the main area. "Why don't you start with something simple, like driving her home first."
Chan perks up at that. "Wait, that's actually a pretty good idea!"
"Actually?" Seungkwan starts, but Chan is already racing past him, pool cleaning long forgotten. Though the older male still shouts after him. "I always have great ideas!"
Chan mentally prepares himself on the way there, stopping by one of the outside mirrors in the kids splash area to check his hair. Looking good, he thought.
"Hey," Chan speaks, approaching you and Minghao as he tries not to give the latter a death stare. He could never figure out what kind of relationship the two of you had, and that made him uneasy. Not that you owed him an explanation or anything, but it'd be nice to get some clarification.
All he knew was that you and Minghao applied for this job together and you'd been friends for a while. Chan also knew you spent your lunch breaks together at the snack bar, courtesy of his friend Mingyu's spying, and he knew he took you home everyday.
But those could all just be friendly gestures, right?
You ignore Chan's presence as you turn to close up your locker, not bothering to acknowledge him. Minghao does though, "You heading home?"
"Yeah, actually." Chan responds, eyes never leaving your figure. He calls out your name, to which you roll your eyes to. "What?"
He stands up straight, slightly puffing his chest out in an attempt to appeal more to you. Was it working? Probably...Not. "Can I drive you home?"
"Not a chance." You shoot down immediately, not a hint of hesitance in your voice. Oh, that was fast. But Chan knew this wasn't gonna be easy after all.
"I'll buy you food on the way." He offers, clinging to his last ounce of self respect before he gets on the floor to start begging. He was not above that when it came to you.
You cross your arms. "Are you insinuating that I can't buy my own food?"
Of course things were going this way, "That's not what I-"
You put a hand up to stop him, smirking. "Because you're right, this stupid job doesn't pay me nearly as much as I'd like."
Chan stays quiet, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, you continue for him, all in a condescending tone though. "Whatever Lee. Even though you're probably doing this just to feel better about yourself for being such an asshole all the time, I'll bite."
Minghao grimaces, had you always been this harsh? Well, he knows the younger male did you piss you off more than usual today. He knows in his rational brain that he probably shouldn't let this happen. But will he? Yeah.
Minghao gently grabs your arm. "Call me when you get home, okay?"
"Of course." You reply, and Chan watches you flash a smile reserved for your friends only. He knows that because never once had you directed that smile at him. This was soon to change, or so help him.
"You can go ahead, I'll get 'Kwan and lock up." Minghao nods and you thank him.
Chan's just about losing his mind though, Minghao was on a nickname basis with Seungkwan? What the hell? Did Seungkwan not know that Minghao was enemy number one ?! He had some words for him later.
Right now though, his main focus was you. Even in the horrible florescent lighting of the locker room, he thought you looked beautiful.
You, on the other hand, were getting the ick from seeing Kim Mingyu walk around with flip flops. That was going to be hard to move on from.
Just to be clear, you really weren't interested in relationships right now. And yes, you and Minghao were just friends, strictly platonic. However, with on slow days, you liked to occupy yourself with staring at Mingyu's prominent muscles. And honestly, who could blame you?
Chan redirects your attention to him. "So, where to?"
You roll your eyes. "You were the one who invited me out, and you don't know where we're going?"
He looks down. "McDonalds?"
So that's how you two end up in the drive-thru of the famous golden arches. Chan has a million thoughts running through his head, the main one being how he managed to get you in his car, willingly!
In another universe, Chan imagined that this would be your first date. He'd make you laugh, hold your hand, and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night.
"Should I get a Coke or a Sprite?" You speak to yourself, pulling Chan out of his thoughts.
He straightens his posture. "Oh you should-"
"I wasn't actually asking." You roll your eyes, already mentally having decided in your head.
Chan shuts his mouth.
"You know, I'm really interested in hearing why you invited me out of a sudden." You say, leaning your head against his car window.
Chan's scrambling for the words. "I just wanted to talk."
"About?"
Chan breathes in, here goes nothing. "Well, we only have a few weeks left working at the park, and I kind of.. like this girl."
You narrow your eyes, knowing where this was going. "Oh lord, did you really drag me all this way to try to get me to set you up with Karina?"
Chan's eyes widen. What?! How did you get to that conclusion. Chan barely knew the other girl, much less liked her. In all honesty, he barely even paid her any mind, always too preoccupied with staring at you by her side. He rushes to deny it. "No-"
"You don't have to lie." You speak, rolling your eyes. "You took me here on a bribe so I could put in a good word with you."
Chan's so confused right now.
"Sorry but I think Karina's worth more than whatever you're getting me on the dollar menu." You spout sarcastically. "And anyways, why would I help set her up with you?"
Now, Chan has to speak up, because really? Was he that bad that you couldn't even imagine setting him up with a friend ? He's mildly offended, even if he could care less about her. It's more so that he's utterly infatuated with you, and he can't believe you don't see him as possible boyfriend material. "Huh? What's wrong with me?"
You narrow your eyes. "Well, for starters you're broke, lazy, and irresponsible. Oh, and stupid, immature, full of yourself-"
You were really laying it on thick, and Chan doesn't think he can take anymore stabs at his character without possibly jumping out of his car window. He interrupts, "Anything else?"
"I wasn't even done yet." You stop counting on your fingers. "Point is, you're not good enough for Karina."
He doesn't even care about who you're talking about anymore, he throws his hands up. "You don't even know that, you've never seen me on a date." Because you've never given me a chance, but he only speaks that last part in his head.
"I've seen your everyday character, that says more than enough."
Chans on the verge of ramming the car in front of him in line. "So what kind of guy would be good enough?"
You shrug. "Probably someone like Joshua."
"The manager?" Chan draws back, because were you referring to Karina's taste or yours? He was so lost right now. "He's like way too old."
You click your tongue. "I said someone like him. He's smart, soft-spoke, responsible, and he knows how to deal with conflict."
Chan grips his steering wheel. Yes, Joshua had his life together, but that's because he was older! Was that really what you were into? Chan might as well throw in the towel now. "It sounds like you want someone like Joshua."
"Maybe, I don't know."" You cross your arms in thought. "Well, he's kind of boring, can't be much fun dating someone like that."
So there is a drawback to perfectly stunning men like Joshua, or was he just saying that to make himself feel better? He'd have to ask Seungkwan for advice tomorrow. "Well-"
"Whenever you're ready." A voice takes over through the intercom. Chan hadn't realized he had already pulled up this far.
He didn't even know what he wanted, in fact this whole conversation made his stomach turn. Was he even hungry anymore?
However, you knew exactly what you wanted. But Chan's silent by the intercom so you do the only feasible thing to do, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over him. Climbing past the center console, you throw your body halfway out of the window and start reciting your order.
Unbeknownst to you, the male in the car with you was losing his mind. Why were you so close to him? Why did you smell so good? Why was your body basically on top of his (You aren't touching at all)? And Why did this feel so intimate?
You turn to him, still in the same position. "What do you want?"
Chan's face is red, and he's trying his best to stay cool, avoiding eye contact. "A burger."
"Which one?"
Poor guy can't think straight. "The normal one?"
You sigh, turning back towards the speaker. "And a Big Mac."
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"I think Chan likes you." You speak, seeking refuge from the scorching hot summer sun under the tiny roof peeking out from the food stand.
Karina sips on her slushie, that's halfway melted, and grimaces. "No way."
You offer a tight lipped smile before shooting her glare. "Don't give me that look! Who wouldn't like you?"
Karina laughs. "It's not that I don't think he'd like me, it's that he doesn't."
"And how are you so sure?" You ask, adjusting the straw on your own slushie.
"Um, okay one, he's never held a conversation with me for longer than two minutes." She starts, placing her cup on the counter. Trying her best to stop the syrup from getting her hands all sticky.
You digress though. "That's because you make him nervous!"
"Two, we barely know each other."
"You haven't given him a chance." You tease, unaware of prying ears listening to your conversation. Give you a break though, honestly, it was too hot for all of this.
"Where did you even get this idea from?" She inquires in disbelief.
"Last night when he took me to McDonalds."
Karina's jaw goes slack. "You voluntarily went somewhere with him outside of work?"
Guess you had forgotten to mention that, oops. "He bribed me with food."
She narrows her eyes, suspicious but moving on anyways. "And then he told you he liked me?"
"No," You answer truthfully. "But he didn't deny it."
Karina shakes her head. "I think you're just desperate for some cute lifeguard-love-story to shake things up around here, and it's not going to work on me."
You giggle. "Whatever you say."
"You could have your own story if you just asked out Minghao already." She suggests meekly, despite knowing your constant insistence that there was nothing going on between you two.
"That's gross, I think I just threw up in my mouth."
"Yeah, I know." She teases before lowering her voice so only you can hear, and her eyes dart over to Mingyu making a hot dog. "But you could finally strike something up with mister beef cake over here."
You roll your eyes. "He's too hot for me, half the park wants him."
"He gives you free food."
You hush your friend. "He gives everyone free food!"
"You win this battle." Karina says, trashing her finished cherry drink. "But the war is far from over."
"Get back to your post, Yoo." You sigh, cleaning up the mess your melting treats made with a few napkins and discarding them.
Mingyu comes back to the front where you are after noticing you were alone, "Going back?"
You groan. "Unfortunately my break is over."
He offers a small chuckle, and all you think about is how good he looks. Especially since he's donning a sleeveless red shirt, matching the parks general colors, and you can see his arms in their full glory. No wonder you'd heard girls in passing giggle about how they wanted to take a bite out of the food stand guy, you saw the appeal.
Why couldn't he be a lifeguard? Just saying, it would be nice to see him without a pesky shirt sometimes. Oh you were so embarrassing.
"Have you seen Hao? I wanted to talk to him about something?" The male inquires but you shake your head.
"He called in today," You stand. "Said he felt sick, or some other kind of lie."
"He's not sick?"
"Judging by his Instagram stories on a boat?" You quirk your head. "I'd say no."
MIngyu laughs at your humor, and you're flashing that pretty smile again, and Mingyu's feeding right into it. Are you two flirting?!
Chan hates it!
Not your smile, no he could never hate your smile. But he hates how he's never once gotten to see it aimed at him. Yet here you were, chatting it up with Mingyu? Did the nuggets he bought you last night mean nothing? He thought they were a great symbol of his undying love for you!
Vernon looks unimpressed. "Stare at him any longer and you might just burn a hole through him."
Chan narrows. "That's the plan"
Vernon's bored. "Okay, this is getting weird."
"I just don't get it, what does she even see in guys like Joshua? Or Mingyu?" Chan crosses his arms.
"Maybe because they do their job-" Vernon tries to get his station partners attention back.
But Chan's having none of it. "Yeah right, look at Mingyu! He's flirting on duty!"
"He just runs the food stand, in his defense. Half the time isn't he helping you spy on her and Minghao?"
"Well it seems like he's playing for the other team right now, standing there and talking to my girl!"
"Your girl." Vernon repeats, shaking his head in disbelief as he mocks the younger male. "You're ridiculous."
Chan stays rooted in his place. "I can't even believe-"
"Hey, Chan right?" A voice plucks him out of his plotting to kill Mingyu (Okay, maybe killing was extreme, but at the very least he was going to jump him. Eh, that might be a little too much as well, he was still technically Chan's friend. Maybe he could-)
Oh wait, someone was talking to him, and he should probably respond. "Yeah that's me."
"Oh, well I'm Karina." The girl introduces herself as Chan finally gets to take a look at her. He knew who she was, everyone did, but the two had rarely a few words to each other before now, if anything.
He adjusts his sunglasses, eyes barely moving from you and Mingyu. He had to make sure Mingyu didn't try anything. This was a matter of national security! "Nice to meet you, I guess"
"What's up Karina?" Vernon asks, trying to break up this weird tension as he saw how Chan effectively ignored you.
Karina places her hand on her hip. "I'll just be straight forward, someone told me that Chan had a little thing for me, but I know that's not the case, even though she's entirely convinced."
Chan's irritated. "What?"
"I'm not blind, Chan." Karina raises a brow. "I know you have a crush on her."
"Well yeah, could he be more obvious?" Vernon snidely remarks as Chan does his best to ignore his comment.
"So," Chan looks down, slightly dissapointed. "Did you come just to make fun of me?"
"No," She leans forward. "I've decided I'm gonna help you."
"Help?" Chan's taken back as he snaps his head up.
"Help?" Vernon parrots, though he sounds more confused.
She smiles. "Yup"
"Why?"
Karina stares at her perfectly manicured nails. "You're a decent guy. Good looking, nice enough, and I know you're trying your best."
Chan blinks, this was the complete opposite of what you had told him. Karina continues, "But mostly, it's because I can tell you really like her. And I think she deserves someone that'll treat her well for once."
"Well give it up," Chan sighs, wiping sweat from his brow. "Mingyu's about to propose to her anyways."
"Mingyu's not doing anything," Karina moves her hair. "He been standing there like a dweeb the whole time, completely oblivious to everyone around him."
"And she still likes him more than me."
Your friend glares at the male. "Well this isn't going to work if you're going to be so negative."
"Karina," He turns to her. "Honestly, what's the point? She wants nothing to do with me."
"Because she's blind, she can't see how much you like her."
"So, what should we do?" Vernon pipes in, surprisingly intently following the situation.
"We have to prove to her how much you like her!"
"And how can I do that?"
"Don't worry, I have that part covered."
...
"And then he threw up right next to the trashcan." Jeonghan — one of the new hires — finishes venting to you about one of the kids on the waterslide he was manning.
"Swear there should be some kind of law forbidding kids from eating four hotdogs and then getting on a ride that sends you spinning." You sympathize.
"Or people could just have more common sense." Jeonghan comments, before his eyes drift off somewhere else. "Is that Karina talking to Chan?"
Your eyes widen as you try to follow his line of sight. "What? Where?"
"Over there." Jeonghan points with his head, towards the bathrooms.
Sure enough, leaning on the bricks outside the bathrooms, was your friend talking to Lee Chan. Had he finally gained the courage to talk to her? And oh no, was she actually reciprocating?
"I didn't know they were friends." Jeonghan breaks the silence.
"They're not." You raise a brow. "I think he likes her."
Jeonghan looks at you like you've grown three heads. "You're joking right?"
You shrug, "Why would I be joking?"
"Everyone knows that he-" Your friend stops himself before waving you off. "Never mind, you wouldn't believe me anyways."
"Believe what?"
Jeonghan snickers. "Nothing."
You're eager to press on more about whatever he was talking about but the manager, Joshua, asks if you and Jeonghan can get showered already so you can all head out.
By the bathrooms, Chan's about to start throwing a fit. "She looked over here once!"
Karina pats his shoulder lightly. "We'll get her next time. For now, I'll just have to feed her a great narrative of you until she realizes she wants you for herself."
Chan looks down. "This is hopeless."
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"Holy shit, where is Chan?" Minghao complains, but you show no sympathy as he was seemingly having the time of his life yesterday.
You shrug, adjusting the strap of the bathing suit you had just put on. "Don't know, don't care."
Your friend tsks. "At least we get out early today."
You shake your head. "Doesn't matter, Joshua's forcing us into that work bonding thing."
MInghao groans, resting his forehead against the steel locker. "I forgot about that, what's the point again? We've had plenty of time to bond already."
"It's mandatory if we want that last paycheck." You remind him and he sighs.
He grabs a bottle from his locker and uncaps it. "Can you put sunscreen on me?"
You nod, it was a normal occurrence, and usually no one batted an eye. Even as you rubbed it into his face, too close for it to be considered just friendly, you know it's all platonic.
Chan on the other hand, isn't so sure.
Him and Karina were walking up the gravel path and the scene hits him before he walks into the area. "H-He's rubbing sunscreen on her back!"
Karina tries to calm him. "They do that for each other all the time."
"Then why does it look so romantic!"
"You're overthinking!"
"Seungkwan rubs my sunscreen in! Why don't you do it for her?!"
"I always get here late!" She defends. "Anyways, this isn't about me, we need to get in there!"
You're instantly drawn to Karina and Chan loudly entering, and it seems the two have gotten close over the past few days.
"Hey guys," Minghao greets and they offer him a hello back before opening their lockers.
"Chan," Karina speaks louder than her normal volume as to draw your attention. "Could you help me put on sunscreen? Can't reach my back today."
Chan nods, grabbing the bottle from her hands and slowly helping her rub it in. He wants to make sure you looking too, and how he's one hundred percent sure he can do it better than Minghao can.
"Uh Rina," You speak before you all head out.
"Yes?" She responds, hoping for you to say something about Chan.
"You have a couple white streaks on your back." And you grimace at Chan's poor job of doing something as simple as rubbing sunscreen in. "Do you want me to-"
"No! No," Karina laughs at her outburst. "Um, I'm sure Chan can help me fix it."
You almost flinch.
"Right, Chan?" Your friend grits her teeth so the male could take the hint.
"Oh, right!" He catches on and then vigorously continues to rub the cream into her skin. He's a little too aggressive with it.
"Ow- um, okay!" She lets out. "I think I'm good now."
You stop, "Okay..."
Chan scurries off, and he realizes he actually needs to get his own swim trunks on, and for heavens sake, where is his first aid whistle?!
You two walk away, you picking at your nails as you dread the day ahead. Your friend needs to break the silence. "So, you're staying today?"
"I wish I had a choice." You grovel.
"I feel you."
You catch the time on one of the parks various clocks. "We open in five."
Your partner nods at the reminder, continuing to with you just out of the sight of the boys and any other listeners. "So, what do you think of Chan? Isn't he sweet?"
You're taken aback. "Is this you trying to get my approval?"
"No.."
"Because you could do way better."
She almost stops in her tracks. "What?! But Chan has lots of redeeming qualities."
You feel like this is a prank. "Like?"
"Well he's nice, a good listener, and-"
"Oh, you got it bad." You interrupt.
She's about to start swinging. "No, you know he's not my type."
You frown. "So you're leading him on?"
Karina deadpans. "We're just friends, but all I'm saying is, uh, he's not a bad guy!"
You almost stop walking. "Right..."
She speaks again, trying her best not to seem pushy. "You know, I think the two of you have a lot in common, you could be good friends."
Before you can even respond, someone is yelling your name across the park, and its too early in the morning for that.
Though your face softens when you realize its Mingyu beckoning you over. You tell Karina you'll meet her at your station and separate. She was acting kind of odd anyhow.
"Mingyu," You approach him, the shade now concealing your face as you take a seat on one of the chairs. You try to keep your eyes from wandering, mainly to his exposed arms. "What's up?"
He smiles' bashfully, leaning on the counter. "Well, I've been wanting to ask you this for some time,"
You can sense he's a little nervous, so you nod your head. "What is it?"
"Could I maybe..." He trails again, before closing his eyes in mental preparation. "Have Karina's number?"
You gape like a fish out of water, doing your best to conceal your light disappointment. "K-Karinas number?"
"Well yeah, I'm interested in her. Unless she's seeing someone." He stumbles on his words.
You tilt your head. "Not sure, maybe you should ask Chan."
"Chan?" Mingyu almost laughs. "He doesn't like her like that."
You grimace at that. Had Chan been telling everyone that he didn't like Karina, when clearly he had been acting the opposite? Sure, she didn't like him back but, for him to be saying things like that was a low blow. "Did he tell you that?"
"Huh, what?" Mingyu looks confused. "Well, not directly. Though, It wouldn't make sense because he already likes someone."
You wave him off. "Doesn't matter, either way, you should ask her yourself. I really can't give you her number on my behalf." You explain, feeling kind of bad, but keeping a peppy voice.
"You think she'd give it to me?"
You smile. "You'll never know if you don't try."
Watching, once again, a few feet await is Lee Chan. He's using all his self control not to rip the foam tube in his hands apart, but Vernon brings him back to earth, or more like back to helping him tie up the obstacle course in one of the pools.
Even as he's experiencing red-hot jealously from watching you interact with his friend, he can't help but admire how pretty you were. You somehow managed to make that stupid visor look cute. And trust me, Chan thought no one could make that hat look cute.
If Chan was anyone else, he probably would've given up on his painful crush by now, but Chan wasn't anyone. He's not sure where his liking for you started, maybe it was that first day you joined. Looking all pretty as you stood next to Minghao and introduced yourself. Chan had overheard from Joshua that you had impressive swim skills, and you had a crazy dedication for your job.
It was a few weeks before he even got to interact with you. You were pretty much attached at your friends hip, taking a minute to warm up to the others. You had gotten partnered with Karina for a ride once and she helped you get along with the rest of the staff pretty well.
That's not how you first knew of Chan though.
No, that was a while later. One hot day a few years ago, when Chan was still scrawny and more awkward with girls. He had finally had a chance to grab a slushie, opting for the purple mystery flavor that rested in the machines. (Chan thinks it was a result of a machine that hadn't been cleaned, so it really just tasted like a mixture of all the flavors.) Anyways, he happened to be in a hurry due to him chatting with Mingyu for well over his break.
Which meant he booked it to the other side of the park.
Which consequentially meant that he wasn't watching where he was going. This meant that his slushie met an unfortunate end on your lifeguard bathing suit. And all over the floor.
Now, you were testing patience at the time. This was a new job, plus it was an accident, you could forgive the guy. You also didn't mind that he was pretty cute.
That was until he ran.
Look, in Chan's defense, you made him so nervous. You were so much prettier up close! He stood there frozen for a few minutes, stuttering and thinking of ways to apologize. So he did the only viable thing to do, he ran to the bathrooms to fetch napkins!
Only, he didn't say a word so you thought he literally just ran off to avoid conflict - which wasn't even happening in the first place!
After that, you dubbed Lee Chan someone to avoid. He obviously left you in a mean spirited haste, a deep purple stain blotched all on the front of your uniform. You figured he had a good laugh about it too!
Chan regrets it everyday, why didn't he just act like a normal human?! Why did he have to make things harder for himself?!
By the time Chan had returned, you were long gone. You had ran to the bathroom on the verge of tears, basically abandoning your post and leaving Minghao to run after you.
So if anyone asked, you'd say that your distaste for Lee Chan was completely valid.
...
"Great work today team." Joshua addresses you all, clapping his hands together before placing them on his hips. "I'm really proud of you all today."
"Which is why you should let us go home." Jeonghan pipes up from behind you in the cluster of a group, smiling hopefully.
Joshua laughs sarcastically. "But then you'd miss all the fun!"
The smile dies on Jeonghans face as Joshua starts recanting the same little group seminar tips he gave last year. And the year before that.
Then he waves a hand out. "I've noticed that there's been some tension on the team lately, so we're going to heal that with some bonding time!"
Karina stiffens beside you, leaning in to whisper. "I'm already bored."
You giggle a bit as Joshua starts pairing up teams for an obstacle course through the park. Normally, you wouldn't care, that was until Joshua cited a twenty five dollar Starbucks gift card awarded to the winner. Oh, he had your attention now.
"Karina, I know you don't talk to Jeonghan a lot so you're with him!" Joshua says esthetically, while you sigh at losing two possible partners. Well, there was still Hao.
"Minghao and Vernon."
Well there goes that.
You finally are graced with the call of your name but are immediately shot back down to earth when the accompanying name leaves your managers lips. "..And Chan."
You immediately step up in protest. "Are we allowed to switch partners?"
Chan frowns but regains a bit of hope as Joshua shakes his head. "Nope, sorry but I have to be firm with this. In fact, you two are the tension I was referring to earlier."
"Are you kidding?"
Joshua narrows his eyes, gripping his clipboard. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"Joshua, with all due respect, there is no tension! It's just Chan being an idiot!" You complain, widening your eyes.
Ouch, Chan thinks. That went straight to his ego.
Though your boss stands his ground. "I would just like you two to work together for once."
You scoff, muttering a string of curses under your breath which Joshua pretends not to hear, Chan does as well. For the sake of his pride.
Your manager finishes reading the names off of the paper and announces the commencement of the challenge, which you could be less than excited about.
"For this activity, one of you is going to be blindfolded. This will help strengthen the trust you two have in each other."
Trust? You and Chan just looked at each other after you were handed the blindfold. You didn't even know what the objective of the game was yet.
"Part of this activity is deciding who will be blindfolded amongst yourselves." Joshua continues, rubbing salt into the wound.
"Well-" You begin, about to start arguing when Chan holds his hand out. He can see that you're definitely uncomfortable with the idea.
"I'll be blindfolded." He states.
"What?" He wasn't even going to fight you on it? "Really?"
He shrugs, trying to will his face from not turning red. "I trust you."
You blankly stare for a minute, trying to read a hint of humor or anything of that sort in his eyes. But you come up empty, his expression dead serious. You just handed him the blindfold, leaving him to fend for himself as he tied it around his eyes.
What did he mean he trusted you?
Karina finishes tying Jeonghan's when she turns back to your boss. "Now what?"
"You're going to lead them through the water course," Joshua smiles, although it seems a bit mischievous. He had to be getting a kick out of this. "The ones that come out first, and the most dry, win."
You gape, you were supposed to lead this grown ass man through the water course and not let him fall in?
"Lead your partner to the starting position, and then we'll begin."
You do a steady job at pushing at Chan's back to the finish line. You're less than enthusiastic about it though.
You line up among the others, knowing you'll probably come out of this ordeal soaking wet, and that's less than desirable.
The course is simple, lined up floating fuzzy blocks paced in a pathway like structure. Then you have to follow up a little climb of inflatable stairs. Then back down to the finish line. Easy enough right?
Chan's shaking right now, he's not looking forward to falling in and possibly being left to drown — as if he's not in the prescence of a group of lifeguards right now — as if he's not one himself.
He's still scared though, give him a break, he can't see!
He hears the sound of a whistle and you begin pushing at his back, leading him onto the first block. The weight of you two displaces the block, and you can feel the other block getting further.
"Okay, move about two inches onto the next block, don't fall." You instruct him and he follows, waving his foot around until he feels the safety of the makeshift ground.
You jump onto it after him, "The next one is directly in front."
And you're pleased as he lands right on it. The two of you are ahead of some of the others as well, Seungkwan already having fallen into the water, and Vernon still on the first block as Minghao tries to encourage him to move already!
"The next one is far, so I'm going to go ahead of you. I'll grab your hand after and pull you, alright?" You explain and Chan nods.
You do as you said and then hold your hand out, grabbing his palm and pulling him so the blocks float closer together. He carefully makes the step and you cheer a little in your head.
You only had one more block, then the stairs, and you were home free. You could practically taste your drink now.
Well, maybe if Chan hadn't almost fell over.
You grab both of his arms in an attempt to stop him, and you catch him just in time. He winces at the prospect of falling, and you squeeze him. "I'm not going to let you fall, okay? I've got you."
Chan's glad he can't see you, because then he'd bear witness to you noticing the growing redness of his face. And if he had to acknowledge it, then he'd jump into the water himself.
You two successful make it to the last block and you cheer, the others having more trouble with their team work behind you. The others seem to be having a hard time due to lack of trust in their guiders.
You notice that Chan had trusted completely in everything you had said, even though you knew he didn't want to splash in the pool.
You stare at him for a minute, and he starts talking. "Uhh, aren't we supposed to keep moving"
You shake your thoughts from your head. "Up the stairs now, I'll lead you, just hold my hand."
Before you know it, the two of you had made it to the end. You take off Chan's blindfold as you announce your victory. Throwing your arms around Chan as you celebrate. "We won! We beat those suckers."
"Those suckers are right here!" Karina says, panting as she comes down the stairs. She's wet, pulling a much dryer Jeonghan behind her.
You keep your hands around Chan as Karina explains. "He stepped back on the block and basically pushed me off on accident."
You giggle at that, face on a few inches from Chan as he tries not to combust. Lord, he was so in love with you. Your pretty eyes as they crinkled while you let out the prettiest laugh.
Karina notices and she lets out a smile. He really did like you, anyone could see it in his eyes.
You don't notice though, sliding your hands off of Chan as you jokingly tease Karina. "I won the card! I won the card."
Jeonghan pulls off his blindfold just in time for you to see him roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
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Chan insisted you made a night of spending the card together. You didn't mind, telling him you'd meet him there after your much needed shower.
So here you sat in the Starbucks lobby, awaiting Chan as you had the card and he had already passed you his order. You tapped away on your phone as you hear the chime of the door and you hear someone sitting across from you.
You don't mind his presence, weirdly, you felt he was really vulnerable with you today. While it likely didn't mean much to him, it had you overthinking everything.
"Here's your drink, it just came out." You speak first, pushing the cup towards him.
Chan thanks you and drums his fingers on the side of the cup. "You know, I think this is the longest we've been together without you saying you hate me or something."
You shrug. "It's hard to be mad in a Starbucks. Place smells like heaven, plus you showed out in the game today."
He waves you off. "It's easy to trust you, we've known each other for long."
You snort. "More like you've bothered me for so long."
"Oh, admit it. I make your job more interesting. If it wasn't for me constantly causing a scene then you'd be bored out of your mind."
"I guess you have a point." You reluctantly agree as you sip your drink.
He smirks. "I know."
You purse your lips. "So, any updates with Karina? I know you two have been spending time together lately. Seems I was wrong."
Chan sighs. "No, I'm not into her in that way."
Brows raised, you chuckle, asking a question you already knew the answer to. "She's not interested or?"
"No, and neither was I." He states, eyes meeting yours. "She was never the one I liked."
You don't know why but you stutter a bit. "S-She wasn't?"
Chan looks away. "If it had been her and I out there today, I would've fell into the water."
"What do you mean by that, Chan?"
"You know what I mean by that."
...
You'd been avoiding Chan for the past two days, even constantly buttering up Joshua so you could be on the opposite side of wherever Chan was. It was wrong, you know, but you couldn't help it.
You were a coward, you couldn't even think about acknowledging any feelings Chan had for you. You only had a week left until the end of Summer anyways. Maybe if you ignored it you could move on.
You couldn't like Chan, not after the years you spent disliking him. Sure, had he done anything else to make you increasingly upset? Well, no. And he did usually brighten up slow days with his presence. And he did leave random water bottles by your chair when he knew you were too busy to go get one yourself. (He didn't know you knew, you figured this was his way of trying to get on your good side after the ordeal, but you never forgave him)
That was another thing too, how could he say he liked you after purposefully trying to embarrass you? Sure, it was a while ago, but you never forgot.
You're brought back from your thoughts when Jeonghan speaks, "I'm sorry, your child is not tall enough to ride this ride. It's regulation."
In front of you was an increasingly stubborn woman and what seemed to be her child as she whined about rules you had nothing to do with. "This is ridiculous!"
"It's regulated by the city, ma'am." Jeonghan shrugs. "You can leave a comment card up front if you have a complaint."
She just scoffs and storms off, stomping loudly down the stairs with her child in tow. You'd never understand some people.
Jeonghan turns to you. "Been here the whole summer and I'm still not used to it."
"You never get used to it, trust me."
He laughs in response, before changing the subject. "It's quiet up here, usually Chan's in the general vicinity by now."
You stiffen at the name. "He must be busy."
"He's never too busy for you." Jeonghan crosses his arms.
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Too busy to bother me?"
He suddenly turns serious. "I don't understand, Chan is nothing but nice to you and yet you're always ratting on him like he's a pest."
"You don't get it." You say, hoping he'll drop it.
He doesn't though. "Sure, he's a little overbearing at times but it's only because he really likes you."
"Don't say that."
"Say what?"
"Say that he likes me."
"Are you stupid?" Jeonghan spouts, and you're shocked at his tone. "The poor guy looks at you like you hung the stars yourself and you always just brush him off like he's a nuisance! But you know what? Even after all the mean things you do, he does nothing but talk greatly about you. About how you're the kindest soul, about how your smile lights up his day. How you're the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on."
You stay quiet, holding back tears.
"He thinks you're the greatest girl in the world, you've just never given him a chance to tell you." He finishes, leaning against the railing.
"I don't believe you."
Jeonghan turns away. "Then you'll have to ask him yourself."
You open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your friend reads your mind. "I-"
"Go," He interrupts, jutting his chin in that direction. "Before it's too late. He's with Vernon at the flow rider."
You nod and take off down the stairs, mindful of the puddles of water on the floor, but your urgency remains the same. You had to know, you had to hear it from him. You need to know why.
It's not too far in the afternoon that there's a huge line, only a couple people standing around but Vernon's helping them. Chan stands to the side looking unoccupied, now was your chance.
Wading through the people, your heart beating against your chest, you find yourself standing in front of Chan.
He averts his eyes, unsure of how to start the conversation. He had gotten the message from your avoidance, you had made your point. "You want to, um, ride the flow rider or..?"
You clear your throat. "Do you like me?"
He leans back at the question. "I thought it was obvious."
"And this isn't a prank?"
He wipes his palms on his pants. "W-Why would it be a prank?"
"I don't know! How am I supposed to believe you after that slushie?" You say, genuinely distraught.
"What slushie?"
"The one you spilled on when I first got hired here! What kind of joke was that?" You ask, finally glad to let it out into the air after holding it in for so long.
"What do you mean? I ran off to get napkins and when I came back you were gone!" Chan answered, confused on why you even remembered that.
"You could've told me! I thought you had ran off to laugh at me!" You argued.
He stands, ignoring the attention you two had drawn from others. "I would've said something but I clammed up and didn't know what to say, you were just so pretty-"
You straighten up. "Chan, you're a moron."
He stills. "I know."
"I thought you were cute before then too. But I felt so embarrassed after that, I even had to pay for a new one because Joshua said someone took the spare."
Chans eyes soften. "I grabbed it for you, but as we know, I never got to give it to you."
You look down at the new information. "Oh."
"I like you, I really do." He begins. "I like a lot of things about you. Like your perseverance, your passion for this job, your love for your friends. Just one of these days I wished you would've talked to me long enough without ripping me apart."
"I'm a bit harsh, aren't I?"
"It's one of the things I like about you, you're not scared to put anyone in their place." He admits, and it was true. Chan liked all of you, not just your better qualities.
"This whole time I thought you were the jerk when really it was me." You remark, eyes on your shoes and the floor beneath you.
"I don't blame you, I'd hate me too." Chan chuckles.
You shake your head. "I don't hate you. In fact, these past few days have been so draining. As much as I complained, you gave me something to look forward too. Knowing I'd see you do something to get my attention, just didn't know why you wanted it so bad."
"Now you know." He steps forward. "And between you and I, I've done a lot of embarrassing things to get you to look my way."
"Oh, you did them on purpose?" You tease.
He playfully rolls his eyes. "Obviously."
You assured him that you believed him as you smiled. He grabs your hand in his, the two of you standing in the sweltering heat of the park. He rubs his thumb over your palm. "So what now?"
"Take me on a date."
"You want to?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't." You respond. "I want to give us a chance."
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that."
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BONUS:
"That bastard really did it." Seungkwan remarks, eyes bulging out of their sockets as he watches you and Chan flirt by the lockers before closing.
Karina stares on as well. "They're so cute that I want to throw up."
"Give them a break." Minghao butts in. "Today is the last day."
"Thank the Lord." Vernon approaches the others. "As if he couldn't get more annoying about her, I've had to hear him recount every date they've had so far."
Minghao cringes. "She's the same way."
Karina agrees. "I'm not even that bad."
Seungkwan looks over at her. "So how are thing with Mingyu anyways?"
Karina put her hands up. "Oblivious as always."
Shrugging, Minghao leans on the wall. "Should we just ditch them here and go?"
"But we haven't finished cleaning-" Jeonghan, who appeared out of nowhere starts before his voice dies down. "Yeah, lets go."
"They'll definitely be too in love to notice us leaving."
"For sure."
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fawninthesnow · 6 months ago
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞: Part 1
𐙚 Emperor Geta x Fem Reader! 𐙚 18+
Summary: You are the daughter of General Marcus Acacius. After an argument with your parents, you find yourself alone in your garden with an arrogant, and peculiar stranger.
Warnings/contains: dom fem, f4m, teasing, pinning, size kink, not proof read
Word Count: 1.2k
More on my Master list!
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Under the command of the twin emperors, Marcus Acacius has been made to expand the army and therefore train new recruits. In the training room, the recruits arrive and line up without saying a word. Marcus notices an unusual presence. He comes closer, “[Y/n].” He groaned your name, running a hand through his hair. You stared straight ahead, ignoring your father. “Gods, why don’t you listen? You need to go home. Now.”
You broke the act, reaching for his arm. “But Father! I want to help!” You held his arm to your torso, “I am capable- “
“[Y/n].” The other trainees inside of the room turned to the sound of his stern voice. “I will not repeat myself. Go home to your mother.”
“But it is boring!”
“You are so stubborn.” He picked you up by the waist. You accepted defeat once again as he put you out. He placed you down on your feet before shutting the doors. You were engulfed by a herd of guards while they escorted you home.
Upon your arrival, you had already been scolded by your mother and sent away. She was expecting guests anyway and would deal with you later. You sat on the stone bench of the courtyard, overlooking the city from a distance. You felt as if you were being held captive in this home. Although vines, bushes and flowers blossomed wherever they so pleased, it lacked life. With full honesty, you were being dramatic.
Your parents tried time and time again and convince you that fun in Rome lacked longevity; you should find a husband instead and think of settling down but that means losing the two people who truly gave a shit about you.
At this age, your restlessness knew no end.
“Darling, if you pout any longer, your jaw might lose its integrity.” You rolled your eyes. Your mothers’ guests seemed to always pester you, especially the men.
“That is the goal.” You spat back, turning around to the sound of the voice. “In case she did not tell you, my mother hates when guests come into the garden.” You looked over the young man with distracting eyes and a red toga draped over his shoulder and body.
“Tsk, I am confident she will not care.”
“You must not have met my mother.” You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze back to the city.
“This is a beautiful view. A wonderful empire, no?"
The man stood behind you, his eyes trailed down from your braided hair to your backless gown. “Sometimes.”
“Why so pessimistic?” You didn’t answer him, and instead playing with a soft curl from your hair, “Do you have a clue who I am?” He asked with a scoff.
“No. Now, will you leave?” He laughed, walking around the bench to block your view of anything else but him.
“My name-“
“I don’t care.” The man stepped back in shock. It was the first time a woman of any importance silenced him.
“Listen to me, you minx.” You immediately stood. You were taller than the man, looking down upon him. “…ahem, be seated.”
For a moment, you laughed in his face. “Seated? You must have me mistaken. I do not obey the words of a *child*!” He gulped, squeezing his hands closed. The sensitive nerves in his hips were slowly stimulated; such made it hard to move. “Who do you think you are?” You stepped closer to him, and he moved back. “Some kind of God?” You look him up and down. “God of bundle wheat?”
As you had another laugh, the man huffed, “Excuse me?! I was trying to be kind to you but-“
“No, you listen here, tiny.” You cornered him between a marble pillar and wall. He held onto the ribbed pillar; his hips slightly buck with need. “You dare disturb me, the daughter of the great general, Marcus Acacius! And think you have some kind of power over my actions? Stand up straight!” He gulped as you yelled, feeling like cornered prey. His hard cock leaked precum over the front of his toga, not that you noticed or cared.
“U-u, young lady- I-“
“You’re a mess. You can’t even speak, let alone stand up. Stand up!” You commanded him again.
“You cannot tell me what to do!” He chuckled nervously, looking for a way to escape the corner. His eyes fell on your bosom in his face--
“Are you looking at my breasts?!” His glare continued to flicker from your lips to your sweat-glistened breasts.  He tried his best to hold his erection between his legs, but it was impossible.
“Well, I do as I plea-“ You glared at the short man, your nostrils flared in anger. “No…I was not…looking.” He said softly.
 “The audacity of you men should go into history books!” You pinched him by the ear, pulling up.
“Oooow! Stop! Stop it! Stop it! I am sorry!” You smirked before letting go. He held his ear, “Please do not do that again.”
“What’re you gonna do?” You teased him, poking his face.
“You could get into a lot of trouble if you keep pestering me!”
“Me? Pestering you? Well, karma exists.” You continue to poke at him, “I’ve never met a man so small.”
“I am not *that* short! Watch your mouth!” He bit back a moan as his toga teased his shaft. “Women shouldn’t be this tall anyway!” You tilted your head as he paused speaking.
You stood up straight, holding your hip, “Such confident words but the posture doesn’t match.” As the words left your lips, he stood straight up against the marble. “Look at that, you listen to commands after all. Insecure little man.”
“Lady Lucilla!”
You slap your hand over his mouth and lean in close to him. He squirmed as your breasts pressed on his chin. “Do not…call my mother.” He let out a moan as the tip of his hard cock brushed against the soft fabric of his toga. “Hm? Why are you moaning, tiny?” You look down at the stain on his toga and back at his face. His eyes rolled back, and his eyelids closed. “You are filthy…” He only enjoyed the shame; more precum left his penis. You curiously moved the fabric of his clothes out of the wall. His tip was covered in his own mess. Your hand cuffed his penis, gently squeezing him in your fist. He squirmed for a moment before giving in to you.
You left go of his mouth, pressing your breasts on his face instead. He moaned in response, your hand on the back of his head. “I- I am not filthy,” He whined into your soft bosom, “I- I am Emperor Geta.”
You shrugged, you did not even know the names of the emperors’ names, nor what they looked like. Your father kept you from them. “I do not care, ‘emperor’ Geta.” After only a few minutes, the emperor came over your fist and dress. “Ahg. Taste.” You slip your come covered finger into his mouth. He tasted himself and sucked on your finger.
Part of him could not believe he allowed a woman to control him in such manners; however, a part of him felt controlled by your words, your actions. He stood up and covered himself, attempting to leave. You smirked, “Tsk, you’re not leaving yet, tiny.”  On his tip toes, he kissed on your neck, leaving light marks. He went down to your breasts, kissing them. He gently pulled on your dress, sucking on your nipples gently.
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Second part on my Master list!
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myhaikyuuacademia · 1 year ago
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Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||
This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back
Fake dating, fem!reader
@foxxyhun
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway.  Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”
“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.
When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”
“Woah, your room is awesome.”  Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.
“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You  leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded.  Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.
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