#AT AN ABSOLUTE STRETCH SHE IS 15

[dramaticnerdwithanxiety11]

if i see one more person sexualizing this MIDDLE SCHOOLER WHO WE KNOW IS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL WITH CONTEXT CLUES i'm gonna raze this planet to the ground UwU

[emmyrosee]

Keiji is absolutely nothing if not an attentive, knowing husband.

He’s good, he’s good at the whole marriage thing, knowing what makes you tic and what makes you purr, your anniversaries and outings and just being an absolute maniac when it comes to knowing all about you.

So imagine your complete, your total, your absolute horrific discovery to find out that today, he’s not home.

There’s no flowers, no note, no chaotic breakfast that Mei insisted on making you with Keiji- she claims today is her favorite holiday- and there’s nothing.

Not one of those things, on this birthday of yours.

To be honest, you don’t really mind, he’s one for… however many years you’ve known him, he was bound to forget it at some point (you certainly know you’ve had a few close calls), it just feels strange to have a birthday just with you and not your loving husband or eager daughter.

You stretch, yawn and slowly get out of bed, making your way to the kitchen to prepare for your day off, eager to spend some time alone and not have to worry about anything until you pick up your four year old.

Who is just as surprised as you at Keiji’s forgetting. Who takes a vendetta against Keiji for forgetting.

“You mean daddy didn’t take care of you today?” She says sadly. “That’s not nice of him…”

You giggle, “it’s okay, it’s just one day, yeah?”

“But!” She whines. “I made you a card! ‘Nd we should have a cake! And a birffday party!”

You shrug as you continue to strap her in, “well, sometimes, things don’t exactly pan out like we’d expect them to. And that’s okay! Besides,” you take out your credit card and flash it to Mei, “now we can have a girls day, yeah? Brag to daddy all about it.”

She beams up at you, and you finish buckling her into her seat.

Nails have been painted, delicious pastries for dessert have been picked, a cake to be baked and decorated has been prettied up, and now, all you can do is wait for Keiji to come home and witness all the fun he’d missed today.

Sure enough, 15:34 rolls around, and Keiji comes through the door, sleepy smile on his face and jacket shrugging off of his shoulders. “Hey, my girls.”

“Hey,” you hum, making your way over to him. You toss your arms around his neck and pucker your lips out for a kiss, which he tenderly returns. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” he says with a small whine. “So glad to be home with the two loves of my life.” He smiles and kisses you again, only to then make eye contact with his daughter, who eyes him in a scold. He crouches down and reaches out to pinch her cheeks, only for her to dodge him slightly.

“And how’s my favorite little-“

“Hmph!”

Immediately, Keiji is cut off by the sound of your four year old’s disapproval, and he watches with a displeased furrow as she stomps her foot with crossed arms and turns away from him. His jaw is slacked, at the mercy of Mei and your attempts to not cackle out loud.

His eyes, filled with incredulous confusion flick back up to you in search for your assistance in correcting her attitude, but you say nothing. Instead, you place your hands on your hips and look down your nose at him.

He straightened his back and took a deep inhale for patience, “excuse me?”

“I said:” once again, Mei stomps her foot and crosses her arms tighter over her tiny chest, “hmph!”

“Have i upset you, Mei?” He asks, crouching lower to try and get her to open up to him. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“You should know,” she snips.

God she’s so cute, you could just bite her.

Keiji, right now however, may disagree with that sentiment.

“I don’t think I like this attitude, little miss-“

“Not my fault you didn’t wish mommy happy birffday today!” Mei pouts, and instantly, Keiji’s brows shoot up, from anger to surprise. When he turns to look at you in confirmation, your expression turns from one of amusement, to faux anger to match Mei’s. His gaze softens, and he reaches his hands out to you for your affection.

“R…Really?”

“Really really,” you confirm. “I was super surprised our four year old and Koutarou remembered before you did.”

All the color drains from his face, and for a moment your expression softens as he looks like he’s about to faint right in front of you. “Kou…Koutarou remembered?”

“Honestly all of the Jackals did- Kiyoomi even sent me a card that’s due to come.” The detail, all though a little unnecessary, again makes him deflate, and even if your intentions are cruel, he looks so cute trying to grovel for forgiveness.

“Baby… my love… I’m so, so sorry-“

“You should be,” you huff, crossing your arms dramatically. “It’s a good thing I had Mei to keep me company all day, apparently she’s the only Akaashi who loves me.”

“Yeah!” Mei’s voice echos behind Keiji. It makes him snort and drop his head against your shoulder, palms smoothing up your hips and sides in an attempt to be affectionate, though the action only has you melting into his embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he hums from your neck, peppering soft kisses along the length. Your breath hitches and your own hands come up to rest on his own shoulders. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“Absolutely not,” you say, giggling softly when he tenses up, then looking up it you in betrayal. “I want ramen. I want ice cream and chips, and I want to watch classic Disney movies as a family, and I want to do those cute panda face masks Mei got us for our anniversary with Koutarou.”

“Okay… okay I can do that; what kind of chips?”

“All of them.”

“You got it.” With that, Keiji kisses your cheek and quickly turns on his heal to head back out to the corner store to stock up on everything you asked for.

“Mommy?” Mei asks, tugging your pant leg.

“What baby?”

“Are you mad at daddy?”

You smile and ruffle her hair, bending down to pick her up and help you set up the rest of your birthday wishes.

“Couldn’t be mad at daddy even if I wanted to be.”

[alchemistc]

Donato spots it first - Tommy's been fidgeting with the just-too-short sleeves of his shirt for the past ten minutes, fingers curling into the ends of the arms, thumb sliding along the hem like maybe he could make them long enough to fully cover his wrists just by thinking really hard about it. It's stretched tight across his shoulders, the neck hole feels too high, biting into his skin, and Tommy is absolutely certain it's been hemmed in at the fucking waist, because he can barely keep the damn thing tucked into his pants.

(The cost of having those fucking magnificent gazelle legs is apparently torso space.)

"You shrink your shirt in the wash again, Kinard?"

Tommy's been begging their vendor to switch to a jersey blend for years because 100% cotton undershirts are a goddamn bitch and a half to maintain.

Tommy thinks about ignoring the question entirely. They've been razzing him for weeks about the way every single smile line in his face has been putting in overtime lately.

And then she gets a closer look at it. The merch is usually the same cross-department, but every once in a while some probie will get stuck with the task of ordering a few extras to have as backups around the station and they'll go a little too hard on customization. Like, for example, the one he'd picked off the top of his clean laundry basket without looking in his rush out the door this morning.

Lucy's eyes narrow. She reaches forward, pinches the 118 emblem blazing across the breadth of his shoulder, takes in the color and sturdiness of a shirt he definitely can't play off as being old enough to have been from his own time at the One Eighteen.

Donato grimaces so mockingly Tommy nearly warns her that her face'll get stuck like that. "Christ, Kinard, how fucking domestic are you two?"

(Three days off together after a week of getting by with random texts, their schedules nearly opposite, and when Evan had stared at his overnight bag on day two and realized he didn't have any spare undershirts he'd pouted up a storm about the fact that if he had to go back to his place it didn't make a lick of sense to turn right back around to Tommy's, so Tommy had just thrown Evan's dirty undershirt in with the rest of his own laundry. And then prompted Evan to throw all his other stuff in the wash too. Halfway across the city, Evan is definitely rolling too-long sleeves over his palm with the tips of his fingers and Tommy does not have time to think about how much he likes the idea of that )

"He doesn't even know my how I take my coffee," Tommy snipes, like that avoids the question, and across the locker room Johnson slams his locker shut with a snort.

"Because you've been using his increasingly more desperate attempts to figure it out as some weird intricate mating ritual for three months now."

"It's about --."

"--the journey, not the destination," they both interrupt, eyes rolling, and Tommy doesn't bother to try to hide the grin in his face.

"He just wants to get it right so bad."

Donato's face is unimpressed. "Ugh. Can you please stop being so smitten right in front of me? I'm gonna throw up."

Tommy leans in for the kill. "Your wife ever buy you flowers, Johnson? Because I've been trying to decide how much thought went into the arrangement he brought me on Saturday, and I figure -." He dodges the palm Johnson extends towards his face with a bark of bright laughter.

---

Evan 2:15 PM

Boyfriend privileges are a SCAM

Evan 2:15 PM

Why is YOUR NAME on the back of this shirt? There's no way that's standard

Evan 2:16 PM

Chimney's being homophobic

Evan 2:19 PM

Nvm Gerrard saw it and now I'm just sad he didn't actually have a heart attack about it

[clawsdevour]

his first crush

wc: 1.2k content warning: ur atsumu's first ever crush and he's all nervous and shy and silly!, fluff, atumu x reader, not proofread

note: this is for that one anon req!! im sorry that i chose to write atsumu instead of hoshiumi b/c genuninely i'm still not very familiar with hoshiumi as a character!! T_T but i still hope you enjoy this!!!!!

ㅤ۪⊹ ꣑ৎ

“The girls are gonna practice alongside us this whole week, you better behave” you overhead from the back. A familiar voice jogging through your mind while you attempt to look back to see who said that.

It was Shinsuke Kita, Inarizaki’s boys volleyball captain. He was explaining the current situation the girls’ gym was in and why you were gonna be sharing their courts to the Miya twins who’ve stopped by at your class.

A recognizable blonde behind his grey haired twin was trying to sneakily look through your class. His eyes squinted and widened in excitement the moment he found out where you sat by the window. 

Atsumu had a big fat crush on you and everyone on the boys’ volleyball team knew. The moment school started after summer ended was when you found out you had class with one of them. Meaning, that that person may update Atsumu your every action if they really wanted to.

When you transferred into Inarizaki last year, you were a complete nobody. Not in a way where everyone disliked you, but in a sense where you absolutely knew no one. That was until you tried out for your favorite sport, volleyball, and successfully made it onto the team! From there you met your fellow friends, and classmates that they introduced you to. That of course, also lead to Atsumu’s discovery being you. 

One day you stayed a bit longer in the gym where no one else was in building. You were practicing your serves, in hopes to get better before your next match. From the corner of your eye you saw a blonde man peak his head in, feeling his intense eyes resting on you, but too focused to look back. 

Your dedication towards volleyball and your team got you caught up in his heart. He only came to the girls’ gym to look for his trainer, but was swept off his feet by his first crush ever, you.

“Oh my god Samu, she sits right ‘der” you heard Atsumu loudly whisper from behind Osamu before leaving.

You weren’t annoyed or disliked the fact that Atsumu liked you. You thought it was kinda silly how he chose you to crush on, overall he was popular amongst the girls in Inarizaki. 

Either way you weren’t sure what the rest of the school year is gonna bring but you know it’ll be a very interesting year before graduation.

“Okay girls, remember to be respectful to the boys and their coach because they’re allowing us practice in their gym this week due to construction,” your trainer explained to your team. You���re all standing in front of the gym while your coach continues. 

A few girls in the back were gossiping about the Miya twins and how attractive they are while you smiled under your straight face, a bit excited to see how Atsumu will react the moment he sees you walk in.

“For the first fifteen minutes, you guys will be stretching and warming up together to get along since we’re gonna be in here for a while. The boys’ coach will be subbing in for me while I prepare atheletic sheets to hand out, got it?” A loud ‘Yes!’ roaring from your group. 

Your coach slides open the door, excusing your guys’ intrusion. The boys’ trainer walks over to the entrance to greet you all, the sounds of squeaking coming to a halt to follow behind their trainer. 

When you’re all situated in the gym, their coach is going through all the basic rules about his courts and shows you which one you’ll be practicing in as well as where the balls are kept. Everyone’s bowing and introducing each other, of course a small crowd around the twins as always. They both somewhat ignored the girls, waiting for their trainer’s next order.

“Please choose a partner to get warmed up with for 15 minutes before you both split off and practice in your teams!” yelling across all the chit chat, catching everyone’s attention before they all go off to pick partners.

You’re looking down at everyone’s shoes, knowing everyone’s either already partnered up or already searching for one of the guys. A few steps in, a pair of familiar shoes catches your attention while you look up. It was no else but Atsumu Miya.

“Um… HI! Do you need a partner?” A bit louder than usual due to anxiousness, his hand reaching out to you with the other scratching the back of his neck to calm his high nerves. His large hooded eyes inspecting you in your casual shorts and tee.

“Oh..! Sure,” gladly agreeing amongst the murmurs. His hand reaches out to yours, leading you towards the volleyball cart in the back to select your ball, trying to get away from the crowd that gradually dispersed. While choosing a ball, his piercing tension is so dense the pressure’s making you sweat in fear.

“How bout you choose? You probably know which one’s best!” Turning around rapidly, pushing him closer to the cart nervously trying to get rid of this awkward atmosphere you created.

“O-Okay..” turning his head to seek a ball that’s in good condition. His heart is pumping like crazy, he can’t help but swallow hard. He wants this to go well and to build a stable connection with you throughout the week.

The moment he turned around was when you started to get down to stretch. Taking your mind off that blonde to get all loose, thank god because he would’ve continued to stare you down while you were choosing a ball.

“Let’s practice over there,” facing you again with a wide smile, he’s pointing at the corner of the gym where it’ll just be you two. Everyone’s already finished stretching, either in line to grab a ball where the front of the gym was or peppering to get more warmed up.

You agreed and followed him, he’s walking so stiffly. Did he forget to stretch? You can’t help but have these random thoughts engulfing your mind while you analyzed Atsumu now that you get to see him up close. 

Blonde hair that so needed to be toned with purple shampoo, his brown hair growing in and peeking from the bottom. His tall and broad stature was attractive.. Not to mention his face. Him and his twin are highkey attractive, you had to admit.

“Pass!!” you shouted at him the moment threw the ball in the air. Somehow catching him off guard.

“Sorry about that. Kinda got the jitters, ‘er something like that. Ya know what, ignore that.. That was embarrassing” his pale face flushed a hot red in humiliation from what he just said. You tell him it’s okay and to continue, hearing him course under his breath.

To be honest, you thought that it was kinda cute that he had this more vulnerable and shy side to his tough guy act he always puts up. For once, he was the one who’s more flustered than even just a regular girl.  Before he began to practice with you, all you could think about is how this was gonna be a long but fun week.

masterlist here

[reidmarieprentiss]

They Were Never You

Summary: Spencer finds family and maybe more while at university.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, light angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer and reader are 12-18 in this, teenage angst, teenage hormones, absent parents, Spencer's mom, arguing, bad relationships, reader is a cheerleader, use of Y/N, reader only has a mom

Word count: 5.4k

a/n: spencer baby i want you to be happy you don't need any more sadness in your storyline !!

main masterlist

Starting college at the tender age of 12 was undeniably daunting for Spencer Reid. The vast campus, the mature students, and the intense coursework all contributed to a whirlwind of emotions that he had to navigate. Fortunately, he found some solace in knowing that his assigned advisor was not only understanding but also one of the leading professors in his field. It was a slight disappointment, though, that he wouldn’t attend her lectures until he reached his upper-division courses. 

One afternoon, Spencer had a scheduled meeting with his advisor, Jan, late in the day. He nervously approached her office, his small frame barely reaching the little window as he knocked softly.

“Hi, Spencer! Please come in and sit down,” Jan greeted warmly, her smile putting him at ease. 

“Hello,” he replied quietly, his eyes flickering over to a girl sitting in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry, this is my daughter, Y/N. She hangs out with me after school gets out. I hope you don’t mind that she sits in on our meeting,” Jan explained, noticing Spencer’s curiosity.

“No—uh, no, that’s fine,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat opposite Jan.

A few minutes into their meeting, Jan’s phone buzzed insistently. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “I’m terribly sorry, Spencer, but I have to take this call. It’s quite important. I’ll be back shortly,” she apologized, stepping out of the room.

Left alone, Spencer fidgeted with his hands, feeling the awkward silence stretch. You, always the social one, saw an opportunity to break the ice.

“So, Spencer, how old are you?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by the boy who seemed out of place among the usual college crowd.

“12,” he replied, barely meeting your gaze.

“Me too! How come you’re in college?” you continued, genuinely interested.

“I’m really smart,” Spencer said simply, his voice tinged with pride and modesty.

“Hmm, okay… what’s 10395 divided by 15?” you asked, testing him with random numbers that popped into your head.

“693,” he answered without hesitation.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t even know if that’s right, but I totally believe you,” you said, your tone filled with genuine awe.

Spencer giggled shyly at your response, the stuffy air in the room easing slightly. For the first time since he started college, he felt a bit of normalcy, sharing a simple, innocent moment with someone his own age.

—

Spencer found himself looking forward to the times he could schedule late appointments with Jan, his advisor. It wasn't for any particular reason, of course. He definitely needed to see her later in the day to fit into his very busy schedule, and it was absolutely necessary for him to meet with her multiple times per term. 

As the months went by, these late afternoon meetings became a regular occurrence. Spencer would knock on Jan's office door, a little less nervous each time, and he always found you there, sitting in the corner, waiting for your mom to finish work. 

One particular afternoon, Spencer arrived for another scheduled meeting. He knocked and entered the office, greeted by Jan's familiar, warm smile.

“Hi, Spencer! Come on in. How’s your day going?” she asked, motioning for him to take a seat.

“Hello, Dr. Jan. It’s been good, thank you,” Spencer replied, glancing over at you in the corner.

As the meeting progressed, Spencer couldn't help but steal glances in your direction. You would often be engrossed in a book or working on some homework, but you always looked up and gave him a friendly smile whenever you caught him looking.

After discussing his coursework and upcoming projects, Jan excused herself once again. She apologized as she stepped out, leaving you and Spencer alone in the office.

“So, Spencer, what are you learning about today?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Quantum mechanics,” Spencer replied, his voice gaining a bit of excitement. “It’s really fascinating.”

“Wow, that sounds complicated. Can you explain it to me?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Well, it’s about understanding the behavior of particles at the smallest scales. It’s like… imagine if you could see the tiniest building blocks of everything around us and how they move and interact with each other.”

You nodded, trying to grasp the concept. “That sounds really cool. Do you think I could understand it if I tried to learn?”

“Of course!” Spencer exclaimed, his enthusiasm growing. “You’re smart, Y/N. You can understand anything if you put your mind to it.”

You beamed at his encouragement. “Thanks, Spencer. Maybe one day you can teach me more about it.”

“I’d like that,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain.

When Jan returned, she found the two of you deep in conversation, a smile playing on her lips as she observed the budding friendship. Spencer left the office that day with a lighter heart, looking forward to the next late afternoon appointment, not just for the academic guidance, but for the chance to see you again.

—

As summer approached, Spencer found himself facing an unexpected dilemma. He had always assumed he would return home when college was out, but a recent revelation about his mother’s living situation in a care facility left him with nowhere to go. The thought of spending the summer alone and without a place to stay weighed heavily on his mind. 

During one of his scheduled meetings with Jan, a meeting he had purposely chosen when he knew you wouldn’t be there, Spencer decided to bring up the issue. He entered the office, his usual composed demeanor slightly marred by worry.

“Hello, Spencer,” Jan greeted him warmly as usual. “What’s on your mind today?”

“Hi, Dr. Jan,” he began hesitantly, his fingers nervously tapping on the armrest of his chair. “I, um, have a problem. I don’t have anywhere to go for the summer.”

Jan’s expression softened with concern. “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“My mom... she’s living in a care facility, and there’s no other family I can stay with,” Spencer explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jan’s heart broke for the young boy sitting before her. Despite his remarkable intelligence and maturity, he was still just a child in need of care and support. She thought for a moment, weighing her options, and then made a decision.

“Spencer,” she said gently, leaning forward. “I can’t bear the thought of you being alone this summer. Would you consider staying with Y/N and me? We have plenty of room, and I’d love for you to spend the summer with us.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t want to be a burden, Dr. Jan.”

“You wouldn’t be a burden at all,” Jan assured him with a kind smile. “In fact, I think Y/N would be thrilled to have you around. You two get along so well, and it would be nice for you to have some company your age.”

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him. The idea of spending the summer with you and Jan, rather than facing the unknown alone, was a comforting one. “Thank you, Dr. Jan. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s settled then,” Jan said, her smile widening. “We’ll make sure you have a wonderful summer, Spencer. I’ll take care of all the arrangements. You just focus on finishing your term.”

As Spencer left the office that day, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt a sense of belonging and gratitude that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The prospect of spending the summer with you and Jan filled him with an unexpected sense of excitement and hope.

—

Spencer Reid’s summer with you and your mother, Jan, was transformative. The days started with shared breakfasts, where laughter and stories flowed freely. Spencer, ever the scholar, enjoyed the frequent library visits. You would tag along, your nose often buried in a novel, while Spencer delved into more complex topics. These trips were not just about books but about bonding over shared interests and knowledge.

Afternoons often saw the three of you venturing outdoors. Whether it was picnics in the park, hiking up hills, or friendly competitions in various activities, the time spent in nature fostered a sense of friendship and fun.

Evenings were reserved for deep conversations. Whether it was discussing a book, sharing personal stories, or stargazing in the backyard, these moments brought you and Spencer closer together. Spencer often found himself opening up about his past and his fears, finding comfort in the understanding and support from you.

Cooking together became another highlight of the summer. Jan would teach you and Spencer her favorite recipes, turning the kitchen into a hub of activity and laughter. You and Spencer would often compete to see who could make the best dish, with Jan serving as the delighted judge.

Through late-night talks, you and Spencer grew particularly close. You introduced him to music, movies, and other pop culture he had missed out on, while he helped you with your schoolwork, making complex subjects more approachable and even fun.

As the summer ended, Spencer left with a lighter heart, feeling a sense of belonging and gratitude. The bond you all had formed carried through the next year. Despite his busy college schedule, Spencer made time to help you with your schoolwork, exchanging notes, emails, and occasional visits to keep your friendship strong.

When the next summer arrived, Spencer once again stayed with you and Jan. The days were much the same, filled with learning, adventures, and deep conversations. This time, there was an added focus on preparing you for high school.

Spencer tutored you in advanced subjects, making sure you felt confident and ready for the challenges ahead. Jan and Spencer both helped you develop important life skills, from time management to effective study habits. Spencer also provided emotional support, sharing his own experiences and reassuring you about the transition to high school.

—

"It's so nice that you get to live in a dorm," you complained to Spencer, lying back on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Huh? Why?" Spencer asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Because you get to be alone. I would kill to constantly be alone," you replied, tone drenched in teenage angst.

"It, um, it's not that great," Spencer said, glancing at you.

"But like, you don't have someone constantly sticking their nose in your business and making you do chores and homework," you continued, a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's nice your mom cares about you so much," Spencer replied softly.

"Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to be inconsiderate," you said, sitting up and looking at him with genuine remorse.

"No, it's okay. I just don't really like being alone," Spencer admitted, his eyes meeting yours.

"You have me?" you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I know," Spencer smiled back at you, feeling a warmth in his chest.

The two of you were hanging out in your bedroom, no longer having to stay with your mom after school now that you were the ripe age of 15 years old. You and Spencer spent a lot of time together, having become best friends over the years. Little did you know, Spencer had developed a huge crush on you.

"Did I tell you that Taylor asked me to prom?" you suddenly announced, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Prom? You're a freshman. Who's Taylor?" Spencer asked, feeling a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest.

"They're a junior on the football team. They're really popular," you said, your excitement evident.

"Oh," Spencer muttered, trying to hide his disappointment.

"I thought you'd be excited for me… this is huge!" you exclaimed, leaning closer to him.

Spencer forced a smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it's, um, great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, your smile brightening as you reached over to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. 

Spencer's heart ached with unspoken feelings, but he didn’t feel happy for you, his best friend, but he’s become pretty good at hiding his emotions. As you continued to talk about prom and your plans, Spencer listened intently, offering his support and trying his best to mask the growing crush he harbored for you.

—

Spencer sat in the backseat, nervously clutching the seatbelt as you practiced driving with your mom in the passenger seat.

"Okay, ease into the gas," your mom instructed calmly.

"Got it," you replied, trying to focus on the road ahead.

Spencer couldn't help but chime in, "You're doing great, Y/N."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror with a smile.

"Remember to check your mirrors before changing lanes," your mom added, her tone patient.

You nodded, following her advice. "How do you stay so calm back there, Spencer?"

"I'm used to being in high-stress situations," he said with a small chuckle. "This is nothing compared to some of my classes."

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Glad to know my driving isn't as terrifying as quantum mechanics."

Spencer smiled, "Not even close."

—

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, concern evident in his voice as he saw you crying on your bed.

“Taylordumpedme!” you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying. Take a deep breath,” Spencer urged gently, trying to calm you down.

You took a shaky breath and repeated, “Taylor dumped me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Spencer said, his heart aching for you.

“Now I can’t go to prom! This is so humiliating! Everyone knows! I told the entire cheer team I was going, now practice is going to be so awkward,” you wailed, burying your face in your hands.

Spencer moved closer, hesitating for a moment before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You don’t need Taylor to go to prom. You can still go when you’re a junior.”

You looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. “But that’s so far away, and it won’t be the same. I was so excited, and now it’s all ruined.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another date,” Spencer said gently, trying to reassure you.

“Spencer! They were my soulmate!” you cried out, fresh tears streaming down your face.

Spencer’s heart ached seeing you so upset. “I know it feels that way now, but you’re amazing, Y/N. If they didn’t see that, then they weren’t worth your time.”

“You don’t understand,” you sniffled. “Everyone was looking forward to seeing us together. I was looking forward to it.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “You’re right, I might not fully understand how you feel, but I do know that you’re stronger than you think. And I’ll be right here with you, no matter what.”

You sighed, wiping your tears. “Thanks, Spencer. You always know what to say.”

He gave you a small, supportive smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I love you, Spence,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I—I love you too,” Spencer replied, his voice a bit shaky. More than you know, he thought silently, his heart pounding in his chest.

As you clung to him, finding comfort in his presence, Spencer closed his eyes, savoring the moment despite the circumstances. He wished he could tell you everything, how his feelings for you had grown far beyond friendship. But for now, he held you close, hoping his embrace could convey the depth of his affection.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Thank you for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Spencer brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your heart. With Spencer by your side, you knew you could face anything, even a heartbreak as painful as this one.

—

Spencer got his license before you, which meant he became your unofficial chauffeur using the car your mom saved for you. Whether it was taking you to the movies, dinner, the mall, salon appointments, or wherever else you needed to go, Spencer was always there, ready to help. He was basically your boyfriend in every way that mattered, and yet, you were still dating a string of different people.

Being an objectively attractive, nice, and smart cheerleader, you had no shortage of admirers. People were practically banging down your door to date you. Whenever one person would dump you, Spencer was always there to comfort you. You’d lean on him, cry on his shoulder, and he’d offer kind words and hugs. And then, just days later, you’d have a new partner, and the cycle would begin again.

Spencer watched it all with a mixture of heartache and resignation. He knew you were dealing with your own issues, much like he was. Both of you shared similar experiences with distant or absent fathers, but while Spencer’s response had been to seek stability and comfort in his studies, yours had been to never allow yourself to be single.

One evening, after yet another breakup, Spencer drove you home from the mall. The car was filled with the sound of your quiet sniffles and the hum of the engine. He glanced over at you, his heart aching for you once again.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You shrugged, wiping away a tear. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t understand why it keeps happening.”

Spencer wanted to tell you that you deserved better, that these fleeting relationships weren’t enough for someone as amazing as you. But he held back, afraid of crossing a line. “You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “I know, Spence. You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As he pulled up to your house, you reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

Spencer squeezed back, wishing he could do more. “Anytime. You know where to find me.”

You leaned over and gave him a quick hug before getting out of the car. As you walked up to your front door, Spencer sat there for a moment, watching you. He sighed, knowing that no matter how many people you dated, he’d always be there, waiting in the wings, ready to catch you when you fell.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope that one day, you’d see him as more than just a friend. One day, maybe, you’d realize that the person who had always been there for you, who had always loved you, was right in front of you all along. He turned on You Belong With Me and drove back to the dorms. (let's pretend this song had already come out)

—

Towards the end of the year, you excitedly announced to Spencer that you were in "a serious relationship this time, Spence." He wanted to believe you, but given your track record of fleeting romances, he couldn't help but harbor some doubts. However, as the relationship lasted a whole month, he began to think maybe this time was different.

Since you turned 16, you no longer needed Spencer to drive you around, but now your new partner, Avery, had taken over that role. Spencer couldn't help but feel replaced. You were always too busy to hang out, spending all your free time with Avery. It left Spencer feeling a pang of loneliness and jealousy he couldn't quite shake.

In June, Jan threw Spencer a graduation party to celebrate him finishing his undergraduate degree. It was a big milestone, and Spencer was looking forward to celebrating with the people he cared about. You showed up with Avery, who you had now been with for two months, and it felt like a punch to the gut for Spencer when you spent the entire party with them.

When you finally introduced Avery to Spencer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. Avery was polite, but Spencer's responses were curt and distant.

"Avery, this is Spencer. My best friend," you said, smiling brightly.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer. Y/N's told me a lot about you," Avery said, extending a hand.

Spencer didn’t take their hand, just ignored it until Avery awkwardly put it back down. "Nice to meet you too," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

The tension was palpable, and you quickly picked up on it. After Avery walked away to get a drink, you turned to Spencer with a frown. "What's your problem, Spencer?"

Spencer, not Spence. "I don't have a problem," Spencer replied, avoiding your gaze.

"Clearly, you do," you said, crossing your arms. "You've been ignoring me all night, and you were so rude to Avery."

Spencer sighed, trying to keep his emotions in check. "It's just... I feel like you've forgotten about me. You're always with Avery now. We never hang out anymore."

You softened slightly, realizing the impact your new relationship had on Spencer. "Spence, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. Avery's important to me, but so are you."

"It doesn't feel like it," he muttered, looking away.

"That's not fair," you snapped, frustration bubbling up. "You know how much you mean to me, Spencer."

"Do I? Because it sure feels like I've been replaced," he shot back, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You stared at him, hurt and anger mixing in your eyes. "That's not true. I'm sorry if it seems that way, but I care about you both. Can't you just be happy for me?"

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions inside him. "I want to be happy for you, Y/N. I really do. But it's hard when I feel like I'm losing my best friend."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. "You're not losing me, Spence. I promise. I'll make more time for us. Just... try to get to know Avery. They make me happy."

Spencer nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I'll try."

You gave him a small, hopeful smile. "Thank you."

The party continued, but the argument lingered in the back of both your minds. It was a reminder that even the closest friendships could be tested by change. But you were determined to find a balance, to prove to Spencer that no matter what, he would always be an important part of your life.

—

It was Spencer's last night before he would move away to a different state, preparing to settle in during the summer before starting his master's program. You had promised to hang out, making plans for one final evening together. However, as Spencer rode up to your house on his bike and saw Avery's car parked in the driveway, it was clear that you had forgotten.

Feeling an overwhelming surge of emotions, with rage at the forefront of his teenage hormones, Spencer sped off, pedaling furiously down the streets. He couldn't believe you had chosen Avery over him on the one night that mattered most. 

Back at his packed up door, Spencer's mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and heartbreak. He sat down at his computer, the anger and hurt boiling over into his fingertips as he began to type. Words flowed out, raw and unfiltered, forming an emotional email that laid bare everything he had been holding inside.

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

I can't believe you forgot about tonight. Our last night together before I leave, and you chose to be with Avery instead. I don't even know where to start. This hurts more than I can put into words, but I'm going to try.

I’ve been your best friend for years. I've been there through every breakup, every tear, every moment you needed someone. I thought tonight would be different. I thought you would be there for me, just this once, when it really mattered. 

Seeing Avery's car in your driveway tonight felt like a slap in the face. It's like I've been replaced, and maybe I have. I always tried to be supportive of your relationships, even when it hurt to watch you with someone else. But this time, it's different. This time, it's unbearable.

I've been hiding my feelings for you for so long, afraid that telling you would ruin everything. But now, I feel like I've got nothing left to lose. I love you, Y/N. More than just a friend, more than anything. It's been torture watching you date all these people, knowing that none of them could ever love you like I do.

I don't know what I'm expecting by sending this. Maybe nothing. Maybe just to let you know how much you've hurt me. Maybe to let you know that I’m leaving with a broken heart. I don't know if we'll ever be the same after this, and maybe that's for the best. But you deserve to know the truth, even if it changes nothing.

Goodbye, Y/N. I hope Avery is worth it.

Spencer

He hit send before he could think twice, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Spencer wondered if he had just ruined everything or if, somehow, things might finally change for the better. Either way, there was no turning back now.

—

You didn't see Spencer's email until the next morning. As your eyes scanned the words, your heart dropped to your stomach. He loved you? Avery had been at your house the previous night to break up with you, not to spend time together. Panic set in as you called Spencer over and over, but he never answered. You hadn't even realized what day it was.

Knowing Spencer's plane didn't leave until the evening, you threw on some shoes over your pajamas and ran out of the house, your hair still messy from sleep. You drove as fast as you could to Spencer's dorm. When you got there, you used the trick Spencer had taught you to sneak past the security-locked doors and ran up the stairs to his floor.

You banged repeatedly on his door, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, the door opened, and there stood Spencer, looking surprised and confused.

“What? Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

“I’m so sorry I forgot about last night,” you said breathlessly.

“You saw my email?” Spencer's face hardened, a mix of vulnerability and anger in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m so, so sorry, Spencer. I’m the worst friend in the world. Avery was only over to dump me anyway,” you explained, tears starting to form in your eyes.

Spencer stared at you, his emotions warring on his face. “So you only remembered me because Avery dumped you?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“No! It’s not like that, Spencer. I was planning to spend the night with you, but I got caught up in everything and lost track of time. You’re so important to me,” you said, stepping closer.

He looked away, his jaw clenched. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was an afterthought, Y/N. You’ve been so wrapped up in your relationships that you’ve forgotten about the one constant in your life.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently. “You’re right. I have been a terrible friend. But I don’t want to lose you, Spencer. You mean the world to me. Can we talk? Please?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “Okay. Let’s talk,” he said, stepping aside to let you into his dorm room.

As you entered, you felt a surge of relief and fear. This conversation could change everything, and you hoped with all your heart that it would be for the better.

You stepped into Spencer's dorm room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The room was filled with packed boxes and the sense of imminent departure. You both sat on the edge of his bed, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Spencer, I’m really sorry,” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I never realized how much I was hurting you.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of pain. “Y/N, I’ve always been there for you. Every time you got hurt, every time you needed someone. And I was happy to do it because I love you. But seeing you with all those people, knowing I was just your fallback, it hurt. A lot.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that. I care about you so much, Spencer. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friend,” Spencer repeated, his voice hollow. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you, isn’t it?”

You shook your head. “No, Spencer, you’re more than that. You mean everything to me.”

Spencer’s expression softened slightly, and he moved closer. “Do you really mean that?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your words. “Yes, I do.”

Without warning, Spencer leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and hesitant against yours. For a moment, you froze, taken aback by the sudden intimacy. Then you pulled back, your heart racing.

“Spencer, I—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You don’t see me like that, do you?” he asked, his voice cracking. “You don’t love me the way I love you.”

“Spencer… that was my first kiss,” you said softly.

“What?” Spencer's eyes widened in surprise.

“Mhm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But you’ve had so many partners!” he exclaimed, trying to make sense of it.

“I never kissed them,” you admitted, your smile growing.

“Why?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

“They were never you,” you replied, your eyes locking with his, filled with sincerity and emotion.

Spencer stared at you, his mind racing to comprehend what you had just revealed. "But why me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, filled with hope and disbelief.

"Because, Spencer," you began, taking a step closer to him. "No one else ever made me feel the way you do. You were always there for me, always caring, always understanding. I guess I was selfish… and scared to ruin what we had, so I kept my distance in that way. But now I realize how much I’ve hurt you, and missed out on by not telling you sooner."

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. "I thought I was just your fallback, the one you turned to when things went wrong with others."

"You were never just a fallback," you insisted, your voice firm. "You’ve always been so much more than that. I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself."

“So what do we do now?” Spencer asked, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Well, you’re leaving…” you began, your voice tinged with sadness.

“I know,” he said, looking down.

“But… we have email, and phones, and we can write letters!” you said, your tone growing more hopeful.

“You’d be willing to do long distance, for me?” Spencer asked, his eyes big and full of love.

“I’d do anything for you, Spencer,” you replied sincerely, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m so glad Avery dumped you,” Spencer said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“That’s so rude,” you laughed, feeling the weight of past hurt lifting, “but I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

—

Two years later, you graduated high school and Spencer was well into his PhD programs. You had stayed true to your commitment to each other, maintaining a long-distance relationship through countless emails, phone calls, and handwritten letters that kept your bond strong. The distance had only made your connection deeper, and your love grew with each passing day.

When you got a job in the city where Spencer was studying, you moved in together, transforming your shared space into a home filled with warmth, laughter, and countless books. Still in love, still best friends, you navigated the challenges of life together.

Your late-night study sessions turned into heartfelt conversations, your shared meals became cherished moments, and your weekends were filled with adventures and quiet times alike. As you sat together on the couch, wrapped up in each other, you both knew that this was just the beginning of your long life together.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[sourvers]

THERE’S NOTHING LEFT FOR YOU (MY FATHERS LOVE)

summary: duty or family? he always did chose duty behind bittersweet goodbyes and missed birthday parties. you’ve always tried to understand. but when your husband comes home one day, your 15 year old kid decides enough is enough.

or… your child yells at their father through a tear-stained face

contents & warnings: simon & john x mom reader (separate), angst, reader's child is named, absentee father, emotional manipulation?

cod main masterlist . ao3 profile

⤷ i genuinely don't know what came over me. while i absolutely love the idea of tf141 being amazing fathers... a part of me always thinks the opposite.

JOHN PRICE

He knows he's late. Beyond late.

Night had already settled across London's horizon. The sky blanketed with an array of stars. Each of them a touch brighter than the next; glimmering down on him, smiling even.

John's momvents are gradual, unwinding. Park the car. Take the key. Unbuckle the seatbelt. Open the door. It was timed, familer, known like the spurs of energy from his only, beloved daughter and the tender warmth from his wife's arms. You exuded it: the candid, honeyed sweetness that Price indulged in, gulp after gulp.

"Dad?"

John recalled when he first held his daughter in his gritty, calloused palms. Under the hospital's white, glaring lights and your ever asture gaze, John felt the bones in his body quiver, his eyes a deep sea of glisenting blue. The world mellowed, it was only him and her: a finite stone hurtling against a blodied reality. She was so tiny. Wrapped in nothing but a blanket, her nose twitching, her body tenderly warm, malleable, innocent.

"Hey honey, how's school?"

"I didn't go to school today."

"Oh? Why?"

"Mom's sick again."

John slipped the ring on your finger for two reasons. First, he adored you. You were like stardust against his fingers, a kind of breeze he'd beg to dance with, a woman he'd kneel before when he came home, bruised and battered like a wooden doll. Second, you are shrewed, clever, and undeniably effacious. To a fault truly. John sunk his teeth deep and swallowed every drop of mellowed forgiveness until it ran dry. Untill John stopped reasoing because every father should drop their kid off for the first day of kindergarten, because he should've been their clasping your hand when you fainted for the first time, because little Jen should've had her father come with her to 'bring your dad to school' day.

"Is she in her room?"

"Why would you care?"

John stops, the warm lamp light of the living room constraints him, the bitterness in his daughter's voice echos against the walls. Against him.

"Jenzelle. Drop the attitude-"

"Or what? Or what dad?" Your going pack your bag up and leave?"

"Jen," John sighs, "You know I can't control-"

"Of course I know!" Jen heaves, throwing her hands in the air, taking another step back, "You've always told us that. Told mom that. You told me that."

Jen's face scrunches up, her lips pressed into a firm line, just like her mother-

"Don't look at me like that dad, don't."

John takes a gentle step forward, stretching his hand to her shoulder, "Honey, please. Sit, we'll talk. I'll call your mom-"

Jen swats his hand away, stepping backwards, "That's what I've been trying to do for the past fifteen years of my life."

Her words are blunt, sharp, faster than any bullet John has-

"Do you love me dad?"

John melts, his hand quivers. Jen swallows and her eyes grow red, glossy, hot. Yet, her voice is hushed, mumbled under her breath like a mere whisper. A prayer. A quit plead hidden behind her crescent smile and brilliant, bright eyes.

John swallows, "I love you and your mom more than anything in this world."

Jen squints, as if gazing at a puzzle. "Then where were you dad? I know it's stupid but-" Jen huffs, hastily wiping the tears from her face, gazing to the ground before glaring straight into John's eyes, "You said you'd keep me safe. That I'd never be alone."

He did say that, whispered it into her ears when she scraped her legs. When he tucked her into bed and when the fireworks shook the house. He engraved it in his heart when he held her for the first time. And after every ‘I love you’.

“Then why at the hospital, did I spent every night alone since fourth grade? Alone dad. Alone because you couldn’t answer. I took care of mom alone and you-”

She points her finger at him, John freezes.

“You love your job more than me, don’t you?

No no no baby, that’s not true.

“Jen-”

I love you baby. You, your mom. I love how you take after her. Whatever you said is not true. It’s not true. God, it’s not true.

“Honey I-”

I’ll retire, quit, drop the job whatever. But please don’t say that honey. Please.

“Don’t try dad. Don’t try.”

The stars are out; glimmering, dancing in the night sky. The paper he’s writing on is strangely wet.

SIMON RILEY

They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

"Why dad? Why?!"

It really doesn't.

Simon learned to be silent. To stitch his mouth close and chop his tongue off from the beginning of childhood leading into his career.

Neverthless, he believed his indifference- the apathetic glaze of his eyes- would never reach your eyes or his son.

"I've tried everything to make you stay- I brought home medals, took honours classes-"

"I know that."

Sean grimaces, his eyes painfully red. "Of course, you knew," he seethes, "You always seem to know everything!"

Simon was taught not to flinch or cower, his back straight and stiff. Accompanied by flat indifference.

Simon still smells the savoury aroma of dinner: its scent lingering in the living room. He notes how the recorded player is not fully off and how there is only one hanging photo of all three of you: when Sean was born, Simon gingerly cradling him in his burly arms.

He's a ghost.

Simon recalls how twilight casted its shadows over your home fifteen years ago. How violently his legs shook; caving under his own weight when he fell to his knees before you, grasping onto your shins and knees for dear life, begging, asking.

"What if I'm not a good father?"

"You're going to be a wonderful father, Simon, don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"I don't want to hurt... I don't want to be-"

"You won't."

"You never cared about us," lashed Sean, "You were never there, and don't give me the stupid 'military' excuse."

For the first time since he arrived home, Simon spoke ever so calmly, "It is true."

"I saw the papers. I heard what you and mom were talking about over the phone."

Simon's eyes widen slightly.

"She asked you to retire dad," Sean's lips quiver, "She never asks of anything too big. You know this."

Simon did know that: how you desperately pleaded with him. At that moment, he imagined your clenched fist, the hot tears streaming down your cheeks and the grit in your eyes. The same one he spent nights picturing over and over again.

"Why dad? Why were you never just there?"

Because I'm a coward. Because I'm afraid.

"You know the answer."

Sean's bloodshot eyes stare daggers into Simon's. Acute and tenacious while he backs away, "Keep telling yourself that."

'Go call him', screamed Simon's mind, battering against his head, 'Do something, anything. Please.'

Simon stood there frozen.

A self-made ghost in his own home.

For what purpose?

cod masterlist .

[leviraaaaaa]

In another life?

Levi stared at you from across the room, watching you as you distractedly fumbled with the straps of your gear. He watched as your fingers clumsily attempted to work with the clasp on your thigh properly, only for it to keep slipping out of your grasp, again and again, earning annoyed huffs from you. You were late, you knew. The others in the room had already cleared out, leaving only you as you struggled and Levi as he watched. But the more you tried to hurry, the worse it kept getting, the belts getting all tangled up with each other and you looked like you were about to cry.

He would've left by now as well, if not for you and your misery that made him stick around. It was very unusual to see you this unsettled, specially right before an expedition. Your hands were trembling uncontrollably. Levi felt frustrated only by watching you. Finally, he sighed and stepped forward.

“Call yourself a captain and you can't even tie your gear.” He muttered as he kneeled in front of you. Without letting you protest, he slapped your shaking hands away and took the strap to his own hands.

You were about to argue but when he shot a glare at you. You shut up. Even you knew when to be stubborn and when to be not and the clock that ticked away on the wall was a clear indication of what the choice should be. Therefore, you settled with a quietly mumbled curse but stretched out your leg anyway.

His expert hands worked fluidly, slipping underneath the belt and wrapping it around your shin. He pulled out one end and the leather grasped to your leggings.

“Too tight?”

“No.”

He did the other leg too, finishing the task you'd been struggling with for the past 15 minutes within 10 seconds. When he was done, his hand hesitantly reached up for for the ones at your thighs. He shot a questioning glance up towards you for approval and you nodded. This was no time for proprietary. He went back to work.

“What's on your mind?” He asked, glancing at you with gray eyes when he was done. In them, he had worry.

Everything. You wanted to say when you looked at him. Everything.

But of course you don't.

You shook your head, standing up. Wordlessly, you stepped around him, picking up the the sword sheathes hanging on the wall and adjusted them to your waist.

Levi stood up as well, brushing down his pants. He was about to tell you he didn't buy it. There was something wrong, he could tell, but before he could part his mouth, someone entered.

“Levi—Ah, I see you're here as well.” Erwin's deep voice reaches you as you turned. “Shadis is asking about your absence. We have about 5 minutes until we depart. Is everything okay?” Erwin's blue eyes found you as he asked the last question. Levi didn't fail to notice.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, a little too quickly perhaps. Levi's eyes narrowed. “I'll meet you out, sir.”

You sidestepped Erwin, in a hurry to leave the room. But just before your face disappeared, he caught the sight of absolute despair that was etched on your face.

.

“What's wrong with her?”

Erwin turned around, not surprised to find Levi on his horse, stanidng out of formation and beside him. “Levi.” He said pointedly.

“Don't be an ass, I'm going back in a minute.” He snapped. He knew Erwin knew something. “What the hell is wrong with her?”

“Hange says she's sick. Threw up in the morning twice apparently. Refused to have breakfast as well.” He shrugged.

Now that he thinks about it, sure, he hadn't seen you down at breakfast hours. He had just assumed you'd gotten in earlier.

Levi looked outraged. “And you're letting her out like that?”

“Levi, really.” Erwin sighed, looking at him. “Since when does she listen to me?”

Levi felt irritated. It was stupid of him not to realize Erwin must have told you to stay in. More stupid of him to not realize you had said no, like the arrogant shit you were.

“Put me near her.” He said suddenly. “Let Eld handle my squad.”

Erwin gave him a strange look. It made Levi self-conscious. “What?” He said defensively. He knew it was strange, fuck, but he couldn't think of another way.

“She can take care of herself." Erwin said. "She's a soldier, she knows what she's getting into. If she thinks she can handle it, why not have a little faith?”

“If she dies out there because she's too fucking stubborn, you'd be the one sorry.”

Erwin looked thoughtful. “Heart getting in the way of your head, Levi?”

Levi felt heat rushing to his cheeks. But Erwin cut him off before he could say anything.

“But yes,” He nodded. “I was going to tell Hange to keep an eye on her. But you don't listen to me either, do you?” He looked at him, the blonde man's piercing blue eyes searing straight through Levi's soul. “Do as you may.”

Do as you may. Levi thought about the words as he turned his horse around. Do as he might— for a friend. If that's what you were.

.

“Are you supposed to be here?” You asked tiredly, glancing at him when his horse stopped beside you.

“No.”

You frowned.

“Last minute change of formation.” Levi lied.

“Erwin didn't tell me.”

“Because he sent me here to tell you.”

You gave him a skeptical look. It was clear you did not believe him, but you didn't say anything else.

And that's how Levi knew there was something definitely, definitely wrong. Anytime else, you would've never let this go easily. You would've pestered him, annoyed him with questions, teased him, made every use of it until you got the answers you were looking for. Then you would argue. Bicker at him to convince you were okay so he left you. You hated the idea of getting help anyways, specially from him.

.

Expedition had started a while ago. Neither you or Levi had exchanged any words since then.

The two of you were on watch duty, perched on a tree as you scanned around for any upcoming titans, the smoke gun ready at your hand. A bland job, unsuited for both of you and very below your skill level. But you weren't complaining and you always complained.

You looked pale. There were bruises under your eyes and your lips were chapped, you looked fragile as a bird, a very exhausted bird.

And it was because Levi was watching you so closely that he noticed the exact moment your eyes lost focus.

The exact moment your muscles went slack and the grip around your swords went loose.

The exact moment your legs crumbled and you dropped forward.

And it was because he was watching you, because in his guts, he was certain there was something wrong and every inch of him was guarded that his body kicked in just the exact moment you tipped and he dived forward, catching you seconds before you crashed onto the ground like a broken ragdoll.

—

You were sitting at a table in the sidelines, watching couples as they swayed in rhythm to the melody of the piano all around the ballroom. You hummed along, tapping your fingers as you took a swig of your drink.

It was a ball hosted with a goal to fund for the scouts. It looked all fancy, but really under those painted and polite faces were twisted thoughts and sly hearts. You could feel the political tension thrumming in the air. And though you never really liked the social expectations to meet when attending these, it was fun to dress up and get a taste of the life of nobles for a night.

Shame that it's your last ever one.

You startled when the dark-haired man appeared beside you and sank down on a chair without a word.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue impatiently, plucking off a glass from the nearby waiter. He swung one of his legs over the other, his irritated face stood out bluntly amongst all the polite smiles and pleasantries. "How long do we have to stay here?"

"Levi." You smiled. He didn't return your smile, or even turned to look at you. He merely frowned, the slight wrinkles around his eyes indicating the foul mood was not at all uncommon for him. "Manners."

"Manners? If Erwin forces me to talk to one more of those stuck up rich bastards—"

"You're the star here. 'Humanity's Strongest' remember?"

"What a joke." He huffed frustratedly. "Don't call me that. It's like I'm a product being advertised to be sold."

"If you put it that way." You shrugged. Raw words, you thought. No false Incase of politeness. He said what he thought, no filters. Always. "The human miracle, the thug from underground that held talent like no other, the one who'd save humankind. Sounds like a pretty tempting investment."

"I will pour this on you I swear."

You giggled.

"Lots of admirers though." You tilted your head to observe the group of young girls huddled in a corner, ogling at him, giggling softly and pointing. Levi shot them a halfhearted, disinterested glance, which only made them squeal louder. He scowled.

"Won't fucking leave me alone." He mumbled.

You smiled, watching him as he fidgeted, fingers holding the wine glass by the strange way you've always seen him, by the rim. He looked out of place. In this grand room filled with colors and vibrance, he was dressed in black. Trousers, shoes, waistcoat, suit—it was all different shades of black. And even his eyes were a shade of gray. It contrasted against the paleness of his skin.

He was beautiful, you thought, watching him from the corner of your eyes. Beautiful. But there was an edge to it. Like the way the sharp edge of a sword glitters in the moonlight. Intimidating. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.

It only ever made you want to steal a closer look, to peer at his heart to see if his soul was as stone made as he appeared.

You've known him for so long, since the first he ever became a scout. Yet here, right now, in the midst of all this grandeur and with him looking like someone straight out of a novel, you felt like a little child. A lovesick little teenager getting her first crush. Not a scout who's killed titans. It always felt like that. With him. It was like hoping for the moon, and you're only just a silly, silly human.

You've known him for so long and you've grown so close, yet now that you look at him, he's never felt further away.

You were only just a girl when it was him.

Levi was cruel, there was no other way to put it. But yet, as you came to realize through the years, the unkind words he threw at your way sometimes, they were only just that. He didn't mean half of it, almost as if he said them only out of habit. He was kind too, you noticed. In the strangest ways. He'd let you pester him all day, make him help you with his work, forcefully make him listen to every gossip you learnt about, rant about your little romance novels, and in turn, sometimes, when you pushed, he'd even share glimpses of your own life.

You think the strangest thing was that about him. That he pretended he didn't care, that he hated listening to you rant but somehow he always remembered the smallest details, some of which even you forgot sometimes. Levi seemed to always notice the day you didn't sleep enough, when you looked too tired, when you felt uncomfortable.He’d remind you to eat, to take care of yourself, to rest.

From a young age, you had learnt to accept that life was always going to be too short for you. That it will never be enough. There will always be something more you'd need. And so you had forced yourself to keep everyone at an arm's length. Fuck around but never, ever fall. Because it'd hurt so much less when the end bell finally rang.

So what were you to do, when your heart starts to beat differently for that one strange, complex man?

You liked the way Levi looked at you. His gaze honest and clear. You liked how straight he was with his words.

It was nice. To be with someone so rudely honest. Because Levi looked at you as if you were you. And it reminded you that this scarcity of life you were given weren't all you were.

You were a living, breathing person.

Levi made you feel alive.

A voice cut you off your thinking. There was a man in front of you, trying to gain your attention. And you smiled politely, rejecting what was probably the dozenth of man who proposed to you for a dance. Levi glanced at the dejected man who walked away sullen.

"Won't you dance?" He suddenly asked, looking at you. "You haven't moved an inch since you've been here. I thought you liked this shit."

You only shook your head.

"Why not? You look like you want to."

You smiled sheepishly. "Not tonight." Not ever.

He sat up straight, finally turning to look at you. He put his glass down, his expression serious. Steel gaze searing through your skin.

"You're resigning." The words were a statement but it was also a question.

You stared at him.

"You didn't tell me." He said accusingly. "I had to find out from fucking Erwin tonight. Why are you resigning?"

There was genuine concern underneath, and that made your heart throb a little.

"Well?" He demanded, the hint of frustration lacing his usually cool, flat voice at the lack of answer.

"Sure you know, Levi." You sighed.

He raised an eyebrow brow inquiringly, looking confused.

"What? Is this because you passed out during the last expedition? You've been a wet rag ever since." He said. " Don't tell me you blame yourself for that and think you're incapable or something."

"I am incapable."

"Bullshit. It was this one time and it's probably because you skipped meals or something. You're better than half the other idiots."

Oh.

You realized suddenly as you met his eyes.

He doesn't know.

Levi doesn't know yet.

No one told him.

Erwin hadn't told him. Your eyes found Erwin's blue ones in a corner of the room. He gave you a slight nod, turning his focus back to the men he was conversing with. He must've thought it would be best if you told him yourself.

You felt despair.

You clasped your fingers, then unclasped it. The room was suddenly so cold. You can't do this.

Levi was still watching at you, waiting, his brows furrowed. He spared a glance at Erwin as well. You couldn't help but think how strange fate was. It pushed rose colored glasses onto you, granting you those soft beautiful moments and convincing you that, this is nice, this is perfect, you can live like this.

Until you're here. Until suddenly the delusions slip out and reality is a far, far tougher enemy to defeat than titans.

How do you tell Levi time was running out?

That fate was a cruel, cruel little thing.

“What's going on?” He said quietly, his shoulders tense. Like he could sense your feelings somehow. There was a subtle sign of panic in him at your silence. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Oh." You muttered tiredly, eyes downcast. He was staring at you, narrowed gray eyes. You looked almost sad, melancholic. "Don't you know?"

"What?" He blinked.

"Levi," You looked up, bracing yourself for the next words. "I'm dying."

Levi choked on his drink.

—

Levi hadn't seen you since then.

He didn't know what happened to you.

You had disappeared the day after, your office cleared of all possessions, and Erwin had only told him you had gone back home. He had no way of contacting you, no way of visiting you, no way of confronting you to ask what the fuck were you talking about. He could hardly focus on his work because that's all he could think about. You looking at him with those eyes, with the saddest face he had ever seen you make. He can't forget the words you said, how you said it. That's all he could think about.

So when he received the letter, your neat, elegant handwriting on the smooth paper surface, he was relieved. And worried. And surprised.

You had wrote only two words.

"Meet me?"

He frowned. Meet you where?

But when he turned to look at the envelope, turning it on his hand to check the sender's address, he froze.

Behind it, was the address of a hospital.

—

Hange was going from corridor to corridor, swooping through room to room to find you as Levi quietly follows. He felt nauseous as he walked. He never liked hospitals. Today, he hated it even more.

It didn't take long. Hange asked a few nurses and they all seemed to know you. Levi registered it numbly, how often you must've come here for everyone to know you by name only. He remembered the times you’d disappear without explanation. Was that for hospital check ups? How long had you been sick and he hadn't realized?

“Ah!” Hange's excited yelp broke him out of his daze. They disappeared behind an open door. “There you are!”

From the other side, he could hear a muffled voice. A voice he knows. He doesn't step in though. His hands are balled into a fist as he squeezed them in his pockets. It didn't feel real. This can't be real. There's no way you're on the other side of that door.

“No, Erwin couldn't come. He's been so busy but Levi—huh, where did Levi go? Wait, let me go and—” Hange's head pops back out. “Shortie, are you being shy? She's looking for you!”

Fuck. Was there still time to leave this fucking place?

But no, Hange knew. They were looking at him with the same excited expression but their eyes had a strange, determined look. You have to do this, they were telling him. For your sake.

So he did. He exhaled sharply and hoped for composure and walked in.

And nothing in this world ever could've prepared him for what he saw.

Just over the few weeks, your eyes had sunken to your face and your cheeks were hollow. And your face was pale, almost as colorless as the white hospital walls. There were wires attached to you, through your wrist, through your nose.

You looked broken.

But your eyes lit up the moment you saw him.

"Hello." You smiled.

And yet somehow, he thought, in the strangest way, you still looked beautiful. Now more than ever. Beautiful in a way that terrified him. It made him feel sick to his stomach. But he couldn’t look away.

He swallowed the dread down.

"You look like shit." He said.

You broke into a smile.

"Sit." You patted across a chair beside you. "Don't worry, I've made them disinfect the room twice. No germs." You reassured him, grinning. You knew him so well.

He said nothing, but silently took a seat

When you beamed up at him and his heart tugged. It took so little to make you happy.

Then you turned back to Hange, the two of you slipping to easy conversation. He doesn't know for how long. He kept his eyes on the floor. To look anywhere but you. He doesn't know when the time passed, but every once a while you would laugh at something Hange said and that's the only time he would feel conscious, your voice bringing him back. That's the only time he spared a glance at you.

You laughed the same. You looked in pain, but you laughed the same.

It went on for a while more, as the two of you chatted, discussing such casual things, none of you addressing him. He was grateful for it, to be ignored. Grateful to not be expected to be included in the conversation. It was hard enough to be here. He's not you or Hange. He couldn't pretend everything's fine and laugh about it.

But he could almost convince himself that everything was fine. Everything was fine. He was in the meeting room in the Scouts headquarters with everyone else and you were fine. Hange was shitting about military police and you were agreeing. Hange was telling you about titans and you were listening. And in this version, you were fine. You weren't here in this small, colorless hospital room, with tubes and needles going through you.

“Right. It's getting late, so I gotta go. I hope you feel better, girlie,” Hange's voice snapped him out of his daze as they pushed back on the chair to get up. He dully notices Hange's choice of words. Feel better. Not get better. “We’ll try to come by when we can. Make sure to drop by when you can as well. C’mon Levi let's go.” They nudged his shoulders. Levi felt relief. He needed some fucking air.

But Levi was only about to stand up when your fingers reached out to wrap around his hand.

“Levi.” You asked him, speaking directly to him for the first time in the hour. “Stay a while?”

He flinched when you touched him. He doesn't meet your eyes. Instead they find Hange's brown ones, who were watching the interaction closely.

“Sure Levi, why don't you accompany her?” They smacked his shoulders casually, but Levi didn't miss the intentional squeeze. “You don't have anything to do today anyway.”

Levi considered rejecting you for a second, considered making up some shitty excuse to escape this room and escape you, but then he looked at your eager expression and he found himself sitting back down. Levi could get low, but even him wouldn't go this low. He couldn't go that cheap. He couldn't be that much of a fucking coward.

“Wonderful.” Hange grinned. “Tell shortie to behave please. He'd been a mess ever since you left.”

“I will.”

Then Hange was gone. Leaving the two of you with each other and a chilling silence.The first confrontation in weeks.

He didn't think this room could get any more fucking suffocating.

He glanced down where your hand touched his. Your wrist looked so slender it was as if he could break it just by wrapping his hand around it. Skin and bones, that's all you were. Fragile.

"I'm glad you came." You whispered.

Levi inhaled sharply. You could tell him to jump off an edge right then and he'd probably do it.

For a long moment, Levi said nothing, just stared at where your hand rested on his wrist. His fingers itched to pull you closer, but he held back. He holds you gently, so gently, like you were made of glass.

Like you were the most precious thing he's ever held in this lifetime and now you were slipping away.

"I don't understand." He said suddenly.

You stayed quiet. You knew what he meant.

He felt angry at you. So fucking pissed. He felt betrayed. It's like everyone knew except him. Erwin knew. Hange knew. He didn't. Then you fucking spring this on him and disappear for weeks. And that wasn’t fair. That wasn't fucking fair.

“You could've told me.”

You looked down, letting out a soft breath. “I didn’t know how.” you admitted. You never wanted to see that look on your face.

Not yet. Even now that you'd told him, you wished you didn't. You wished you had a little more time.

Levi clenched his jaw, casting his eyes to the sterile white floors.

“When?” His voice was rough.

“Always.”

So you'd been sick. From the day you'd arrived. He felt hollow. In Levi's head, he could remember you. He could remember the first he'd seen you. You were dying then and he hadn't known.

After a pause, he spoke again, his voice carefully blank and face expressionless. Silver eyes devoid of all emotions as they looked down at you.

“How long?”

You keep quiet. Not long. You don't tell him that though. After a while, you spoke. “I don't know.” You said. “Days? Weeks? Months? Who knows. I'm not getting better.” You smiled.

He doesn't know what to say to that. How to respond to that.

He doesn't know how to feel.

"You were fine." He said, almost numbly. As if affirming it would make it true.

"No " You shook your head. "No, I wasn't.”

"You were fine. Even weeks ago. You were fine.” He repeated, shaking his head. He knew it was pathetic. He knew it was hopeless. He knew he was just lying to himself because hell, if he's got to accept this shit. He pulled away his hand from you, ignoring the hurt look on your face. “You were fine. You went out on expeditions. You fought titans. You sparred with Miche. You were fucking fine.”

"I'm sorry." You whispered. But he shot a heated glare at you. That wasn't what he was asking.

“The meds stopped working." You shrugged. “It was always going to. Eventually. It's surprising that it even worked for so long.”

Finally, after minutes of agonizing silence, he let out a tired breath. “Leave it to you to find the stupidest way to die.” He muttered.

You smiled weakly. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

So much pain. He was in so much pain, you knew.

Levi doesn't show it, he refused to show it, but fuck, you knew him so well, it hurt. He cared so much. So so much.

You'd seen him hold on to a dead comrade for months. Everyone would forget them, not Levi.

Levi can't let go.

It was his eyes that gave it away. Never had he ever looked at you that way. His eyes seared through your soul like he was searching for an answer. Searching for a way, something to hold onto you with. Like he knew. He knew you were fading away. Like he could feel the emptiness you felt with every breath. In his eyes, you saw the most subtle glimpse of despair.

The more you looked at him, the more you felt vulnerable. Something was breaking inside you at the sight of him. Every bit of desire you'd locked away was strangling your heart.

He was here, with his dark hair falling over his face and the silver gleaming through his half lidded eyes and shit, he was so beautiful. Since the day you met him. You felt so soft when he looked at you. So fragile.

You yearned. So badly. Would it be so wrong?

“Do you think I'm pretty?” You asked him.

Levi was confused, caught completely off-guard. “What?” His asked uncertainly?

“I want to know.”

“You want to know if I think you're pretty?”

“Yes.” You smiled.

“Do you always have to be so unserious?”

“Yes.”

Levi blinked. Then sighed. You and your fucking theatrics. “You’d think someone who's dying would ask smarter questions.” He muttered under his breath.

You held your gaze. You wanted him to answer.

Levi balled his hand to a fist. His fingernails digged into his hand. He knew he couldn't lie. Not when you were looking at him like that.

“...I don't know.” He exhaled softly. “Sure, I guess. You keep a neat face. I suppose you don't look that shitty.”

“Even now?’��� You looked at him pointedly.

He stared at you. You and your sunken cheeks and your fragile hands and your tired eyes. You looked ethereal.

Even now.

“Yes.”

You thought you might cry. It hurt. It hurt more because you knew he was being honest. You could tell from the way he was looking at you. He still saw you in the brightest light.

And that sums up the kind of person Levi is.

You're pretty, Levi. You want to tell him. You're so fucking pretty, did you know that?

You don't though.

But he did look so fucking pretty.

You felt sad suddenly. All those fucking years he chose to be a nonchalant bitch. He chose to act like he doesn't give a fuck. And now that you're here, to the end of your lifeline, now he was gonna look at you like that?

You can't do this.

You thought you could, but no. You overestimated your strength. You thought you could handle this. You thought you were strong enough, strong enough to be with him like this, strong enough to handle the way he was looking at you. But no. You should've never called him here.

You can't do this.

He has to go. For your sake. And for his.

“Levi.”

“What?” It was so unfair, you knew.

“Leave.”

His eyes widened. But you held your gaze.

Levi was startled at the sudden shift of mood, the abrupt turn the conversation took. He stared blankly.

“I want you to leave, Levi. And never come back.”

His mind felt empty. There was something strange in your eyes, a desperation. You were looking at him like you wanted him to understand something. Like you needed him to understand. But he didn't understand. What was happening? Why were you saying that?

“You don’t mean that.” He said flatly, after a stretched pause as he waited for an explanation. He looked as calm as ever, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

You sighed, turning away and leaning back on your headrest. You refused to look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He pressed when you didn't respond.

You shook your head.

“I don't want you here anymore.”

“Why?” His voice was so blank but shit, you could just feel the strain underneath.

“I don't want you here anymore.” You repeated, closing your eyes. “I don't want you to see me like this.”

“You don't get to decide that.” He said, his voice harsh and laced, now with an anger as he started to realize where this was going.

“I can actually. I call the nurses. They kick you out.”

“You're being stupid. I can't just—” He sounded frustrated. “I can't just leave you here alone.”

You shook your head again.

“What the fuck? You're the one who brought me here. You're the one who wanted me to stay."

You did, didn't you? What were you thinking? Steadying your expression and masking the absolute heart wrenching pain you were feeling, you looked at him.

“I'm not going to let you do this.” You said calmly. “I'm gonna get worse. And then I'm gonna get worse. More and more. And you're gonna hate it. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself.”

He stared at you with disbelief.

“Let me go, Levi.” You whispered, your voice cracking. “You can't save me. Not this time.”

—

Well, you were a fucking idiot if you thought he was gonna give up just like that.

He wasn't going to leave you like that. In that soul less, lifeless, shitty ass hospital room, tied up to fucking machines and whatnot. He wasn't going to leave you there all alone. You're insane if you thought he was going to.

But he did leave you alone for the two weeks. He's known you too long. You get mad when people doesn't listen to and throw this big pissy rampage and Levi, for one, did not have the mood to deal with that and two, he suspected it would not be good for your health. Another reason is the hospital’s too fucking far from the headquarters. It took so much time or else he would've come earlier. He couldn't focus shit on his work because all he'd been thinking about were you and all he did was wait for another mail where you apologize and take back your words and ask him to come and visit again. You didn't.

He still showed up today, though.

With a bouquet of flowers in his hand. They felt heavy surprisingly. It was sappy as hell and he kept cringing internally everytime he looked at it. Fucking hell, he'd never though this day's come.

He looked up. It looked like it was going to rain today.

Then he braced himself. Knowing the stubborn shit you were, you were bound to throw out a reaction. But he hoped you'd forgotten about it. Hence, also the flowers. Hopefully, they'd be enough to calm you down. But frankly enough, he didn't give a fuck about your stupid reasons. For his own sake, he had to be there. He had to be with you.

So he stepped into the hospital, taking in a deep breath once the sterile scent kicked in.

He retraced his steps the last time he'd been here, taking the steps slowly. When he reached the floor you were on, he set off to the left corridor, trying to remember which room was yours. But he finds it soon enough, the familiar door.

He took a deep breath, the scent of hospitals making him suffocated. He felt nauseous again. He wondered how you looked now. Was he strong enough to do this?

Were you right? Maybe for his sake, he shouldn't be here. His heart pounded so hard against his chest and he couldn't breathe.

Fuck it.

He stepped in. Then halted.

Empty.

Everything was empty.

The shelves. The table. The bed. Every inch of the room sparkled like someone had just cleaned it recently, the scent of disinfectant hanging on the air. The last time he'd been here, there were those weird romance novels you used to like, piled on the table. All of them were gone. The bed was made up, white sheet spread smooth with the corners folded and the pillows fluffed. Like no one had ever laid there.

Like no one had ever been in this room.

“...you're…Captain Levi, aren't you?”

The soft voice startled him. He jolted, turning around to find a young girl looking at him curiously, reddish hair peeking through her blue nurse cap. He recognized her. He'd seen him the last time he was here, she was the one who showed Hange and him to your room. Her hazel eyes softened when he turned around.

“She's told us a lot about you.” She said, explaining.

Levi doesn't talk. He doesn't blink. He doesn't breathe. His hand gripped onto the bouquet harder.

“Has she been moved?” He asked, his voice harsh. He tried to steady it but his hands were sweaty and his heartbeat was rising. “Do you know where she's—”

But she was looking at him sadly, and Levi knew. Levi knew then.

The ground underneath swayed slightly and he found his eyes travelling to the floor. What was he doing here? Why did he come here today? He needs to leave leave leaveleaveleave—

He didn't need to hear the words from her, he already knew. He looked down to his hands, which were shaking slightly. The bouquet was almost haphazard from how tightly he'd been holding them. They felt heavier.

“She said you'd come back.” She told him, looking at him pitifully. “Come with me, please.”

Levi followed her. He didn't know why. He didn't even want to know why. But his head was empty and he could no longer form a thought. He could no longer think, only do what he's asked.

He didn't process where she's leading her, but then they're standing in front of a room. She tells him to wait and goes back in. Levi waited. He doesn't know for how long. Time meant nothing anymore.

She came out a couple seconds later, an envelope in her hand. She holds it out to him.

“She told me to give you this. She asked me to keep it. I told her she should just mail it but she insisted you'd come back.” She let out a soft sigh.

For a second, Levi doesn't do anything.

He stared at the paper in her hand blankly, unable to process it. His eyes hurt from staring, but in the back of his head, he already knew what it was. He should be curious, intrigued. Sad. Something. Anything. He shouldn't be this numb. But he couldn't show a reaction. He felt so tired. He stiffly reached out, taking the letter from her hand

He vaguely registered the elegant scroll of your writing on top of the white surface. To Levi, it said.

The girl looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. To ask. To react. But when he didn't say anything, she looked almost disappointed.

“That's all, then.” She tells him, giving him a polite nod. “I'm sorry for your loss. I will be heading back now.”

Levi didn't say anything.

It's only when she's walking away, when she's getting further and further, he remembered something.

“Wait.” He called out, his voice hoarse. He has to ask. He needed to ask. He must know.

She stopped, turning back.

He let out a shaky breath. He needed to know. “Do you know when…” He inhaled, his voice was shaking, shit. He steadied it. “When did she…?”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence, she already knows. She looked at him. “Not long.” She answered kindly. “It’s been 3 days.”

3 days. You'd left the world 3 days ago.

“Did it..” He tried to find the right words to say. He remembered how you winced everytime you moved. “...was she in pain? When she passed?”

She shook her head. “No.” She said. “It was peaceful. She had a smile on her face.”

Right. Of course you fucking did.

Barely aware of his own actions, he turned to walk away. He needed to get out of here.

“Actually..” She started again, her voice hesitant, stopping Levi in his tracks. Like she wasn't sure she should say this. “The last word she said…it was your name.”

He can't breathe. “What?”

“‘Levi.’ she said.” The nurse told him with a soft look. “'Levi' was the last thing she said.”

—

Levi,

I knew you'd come back.

You stubborn fucking asshole. You were never going to listen to me in the first place.

Are you angry at me? You are, I know. You have every right to be. I know you're so mad at me right now and probably cursing me, but I couldn't let you be there. I know it's so cruel of me. But believe me, I had no choice. For my sake. For my sake, I couldn't let you be there. I couldn't let you see me die like that.

You have to understand. I was so scared, Levi. So terrified. And the more I looked at you, the more scared I felt.

I didn't want to leave you.

I don't care about rotting in a grave somewhere, Levi. I just didn't want to leave you.

You'd think after knowing from birth that you were going to die soon, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. You'd think being in the scouts, where everyday was a gamble, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. And I did. I swear I did. Death didn't scare me anymore. That's why I did so well in the scouts. You used to call me reckless, but there's no point of being scared for a life you were going to lose either way, was there?

I thought I could do this. I thought I could get over it. I thought I didn't have anything to lose.

But then I met you.

You with your stupid fucking ego and your stupid fucking attitude. You with the stupid hair and you with the stupid face. You with the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.

And it scared me so much. So much. What I felt for you. This constant yearning to be near you. I had so little time. All I ever wanted was to be with you. But I had so little time.

I'm sorry for always annoying the shit out of you. But I had so little time. I had to make the most of it. But as it turned out, it was never enough. It was never going to be enough.

The day the meds stopped working, the day I passed out on that expedition, the day the doctors told me there's nothing they could do anymore, the first thought I had was, “I can't be with Levi anymore.”

Not “I'm gonna die.”

But it was you I thought of.

It's so strange, isn't it? I've spent half a lifetime in hospitals and tied up to machines, having to take dozens of meds everyday just so my organs would keep functioning. I was so tired of it all, all I wanted was for it to end. I waited so eagerly for the day it'd all stop. But now that we're here, I'd do anything, I'd do anything to spend one last day with you. One last hour. One last minute. I'd give up anything to go out on one last expedition with you. Just to hear you call me a ‘suicidal fucking psycho’ again. Just to hear you get mad at me again. Just so you could lecture me. Just so you could smack my head and tell me what a fucking dumbass I am. Just one last time, for you to wrap my wounds with the gentlest hands.

I hope you know you changed everything.

You gave me my life back.

And I will owe it to you for eternity.

I'm rambling, aren't I? I don't know how much longer I have, at best 2-3 days. My lungs are going to shit and I've been tied to a nebulizer the whole week. I can't even hold the pen properly because my hands are shaking so bad and it hurts to even write. But I want to. I want to write. I want to tell you so much stuff, to tell you everything, to tell you anything. Shit, I wish you were here. It hurts to breathe, Levi, and I wish you were here. It always hurt so much less when you were here.

I think I'm going to stop here.

I can't fit a lifetime of unsaid things in one letter, could I?

Tell Hange I love them and tell Erwin, I said thank you. I'd write them letters as well if it didn't hurt so bad, so you're gonna have to relay it for me.

Don't be mean to Hange, okay? You know they love you. Let them take care of you. Let others take care of you. You don't have to be the strongest all the time. It's okay, I swear it is. It's okay to let go. It's okay to be selfish. You're gonna be okay, I promise.

I'm going to write one last thing. It's okay if you get mad at me for this, I deserve it. But I really needed to say this. I really wanted you to know. I'm just sorry it had to be in one shitty letter.

But I need you to forgive me, Levi. I'm sorry that I'm so much of a coward that I never said it to you when I had the time. I'm sorry that this is how I'm letting you know.

I really like you. You have no idea, do you?

You're such an asshole. But you're the most lovable asshole I've ever met.

It wasn't much of a life, but I hope you know that I've loved you with all of it.

If Hange's theory of multiple realities is true, I hope I get to meet you in every one. I hope you're my friend in every one. I hope I get to fall for you in every one.

Matbe I'll see you again. In another life, perhaps?

This time, I would do it right. This time, I wouldn't do this by a stupid letter. This time, I would say the words, true and honest, with every bit of my soul.

I love you, Levi. My heart failed to keep me alive but it never failed to love you.

With the little life I was given, I've loved you with all of it.

Till my last breath.

Sincerely.

P.s. I don't know if you found it, but I've stashed a bunch of those green tea you like in the bottom drawer. Parting gift.

—

Levi stood before a tombstone.

It was gray, like the sky. It was definitely going to rain.

He'd been standing here for a while now, in the cemetery, the letter clutched to his hand, the bouquet still on his other hand. The flowers were all wilted now, but the air still smelled like roses. The grave in front of him was fresh, it was obvious it's barely a couple days old. There was a name etched on the stone, a name he's known for so long. A name he knows so well.

Strangely, it didn't hurt. He didn't feel anything really. There was a strange vacancy in his chest, a voidness where his heart should be. He felt empty, like he lost a part of him somewhere.

He glanced at the letter again. It was wrinkled now, from how hard his fingers been clutching it. He glanced back at the last few sentences and he felt that familiar tug in his chest again.

Levi's head felt empty.

Out of all the ways he'd thought he might lose you, this wasn't one of them.

Out of all the scenarios he had ever imagined where there would come a time he had to lead a life without you being a part of it, this wasn't one of it. This was never one of them. Losing you like this was never one of them.

Being a scout meant there were no tomorrow's. You go out with the expectation of never coming back. And he knew that. Death was reality.

Yet. Wasn't that why he'd always been careful to stick around with you? Always making sure your gear was working, your straps were tightened, your swords were sharpened. Always looking for you first the moment the missions ended. Always the team he'd make Erwin pair him with. Because he thought as long as you were in his sight, as long as he was near enough to see you, you would be okay. He wouldn't let you die. All that for what if this is how it turned out?

Vaguely, he remembered his mother. Here he was again, after years. Nothing changed.

This was the one place his strength meant nothing. Nothing.

Him being humanity's strongest changed nothing.

“Fucking idiot.” He muttered quietly. “Don't even have the guts to say it to my face.”

He swallowed down the bitter taste in the back of his throat. What was he doing? Why was he talking to himself?

He felt angry. Angry at you. Angry because all you needed was to say it. To say it and he would've given up everything. He was angry at himself too. Who was he to condescend you when he was no better himself? When he never had the guts to say it as well?

At least you got to say your piece. Now he'll never get to.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. He felt restless. It was so fucking unfair. So, so fucking unfair. He had so much to say. So much he's never told you.

He never even got to say goodbye.

He sighed. Looked down to the bouquet. Then to his own surprise, he crouched down, laying the flowers gently on the stone surface.

“I hope you like them. They're all dead and shit now but,” He swallowed, his hands shaking.“Parting gift.”

His touch lingered, softly caressing the carvings of your name, tracing the familiar letters. His fingers shook when he reached the deathdate.

Finally, finally, it started to rain. First, a couple drops caressing his face, and then the sky was grieving with him, crashing onto this world and onto him. He was drenched in a second, his hair sticking to his forehead and his clothes sticking to his skin. He stood up, broken from his daze. He stuffed the envelope down the pocket of his jeans and hoped that was enough, but it was already half wet. The one last thing you'd left him and he couldn't even keep it in piece. He was well and truly an idiot.

He spared a glance at the sky. He wondered if it was the rain that made it all seem so black and white. Or maybe you had sucked the color out of this world when you passed.

He sighed. Does it matter anymore?

But he moved anyway, standing up and turning away.

He can't stay here forever.

He has to go back. Go back to the lifeless foul walls of the headquarters and his stuffy office. He had a shit ton of paperwork he needed to get done. He had to handle his squad. He had to prepare for next week's expedition. He had so much to do. So much to do.

He wondered vaguely how he was going to tell this to Hange.

But he continued walking, hands stuffed to his pocket, grabbing onto the letter. He doesn't look back.

Leaving half his heart on the stone where you lied beneathe.

[phantomrose96]

I've mentioned this thing in tags before but I've decided fuck it, it should be its own post.

I've seen this sentiment lumped into Eat the Rich posts which goes like "if you're worth more than $1 million I think you should die" and I think tumblr users need to know this is not the Eat the Rich statement they think it is.

Someone being worth $1 million doesn't mean what you think it means.

A 71-year-old widow who bought a single-family 2,000 sqft home in Somerville Massachusetts with her husband 40 years ago to raise their family in, who now lives in this home all alone because her children are grown and her husband is dead, is--without a shadow of a doubt--worth more than $1 million. Maybe even $1.5 or $2 million. And it's because of her home equity, because that's what single family homes go for these days in that area.

The 71-year-old widow may be living pension check to pension check, because her millionaire status can only be dipped into if she's removed from her home and sells it. And if it's the home she's loved for 40 years, where she simply wants to live out the rest of her time peacefully in, I wouldn't put her to the guillotine for that.

Maybe that comes off as an extreme example, like that's just an outlier of the "we hate millionaires" agenda. But I don't think it truly is. I'll scale back and tell you the median U.S. home price right now is about $430,000. And that's just median. Half of them are more expensive than that.

The statement "I think people should be able to afford to buy and own the homes they live in" is, I would desperately hope, not a radical statement to anyone on Tumblr. I think that's a pretty well-received idea. So someone who's done that, who's bought their home and worked many years to pay off the mortgage and now owns it fully, is worth close to half a million dollars on average. Many of them more than that, as many areas rapidly gentrify and drive up housing worth.

Statement 2: "I think people deserve to have a retirement fund which would comfortably support them through end of life." Too radical for anyone? I hope not. And I won't pretend to be an expert on how much retirement money is ideal. I'm sure it varies with cost of living in places. But considering this is money which, ideally, should support someone for the remaining 10-20 years of life (money which may be necessary to cover the absolutely crippling medical costs of end-of-life treatment) I'd bet it's well into the many hundreds of thousands. Even if someone was simply living off $30k/year of take home money and just making that work, then 15 years of retirement, costing $30k/year, plus maybe $50k+ of end-of-life medical costs... That's at least $500k.

Which is all to say, if you show me someone approaching retirement age who's "worth" $1 million dollars, my hope would be that their house is paid off and their retirement fund is comfortable. I'd be happy for them. I would want this for them.

Even that may not be true, though. Someone "worth" $1 million maybe owns a paid-off house which has rapidly appreciated to being worth $900k, and their $100k in retirement is something they're trying to stretch through end of life. Maybe someone worth $1 million owns a house which has ballooned to $1.1 million, and they're in fact $100k in debt.

And the fact that SO many Americans will never even meet this bar is significantly more appalling to me than the existence of people worth more than $1 million. "I own my home and can retire comfortably" is a bar we want every American to meet. I want more millionaires who are millionaires because they meet these criteria.

If Nana Somerville's house burns down tomorrow, she'll have lost everything. If a billionaire were to similarly lose $1 million of worth, he would not feel it. That's a fickle day at the stock market. That's Tuesday. That's the rich which desperately needs to be eaten.

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt9

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: You visit Wooyoung at work, where one of your ground rules is tested.

wc: 7.7k

ch. warnings: gratuitous Seonghwa cameo, angst, a fight that lasts for like 15 minutes oop, sorta hurt/comfort, non-sexual bondage, dom San, sub Wooyoung, sub reader, rope space, mentions of past arophobia and amatonormativity

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: there is no smut bc i split this chapter up for length — but the next update will make up for that, promise!!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

a/n³: in-fic time, less than a day has passed between the end of chapter 7 and the start of chapter 9. this feels worth mentioning, considering what happens in this one lol

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

The florist shop where Wooyoung works has a colourful and refreshing showroom, filled with creative flower arrangements, lush potted plants and idyllic garden ornaments. Sweet fragrances permeate the air, bright sunlight comes in from the large storefront windows.

The place is small and packed tight, greenery within arms’ reach wherever you stand; but organised and clean enough that it does not overwhelm the eye. And your vantage point by the counter gives you a nice overview of the store, including its two employees currently at work — but right now, they’re not exactly busy with selling flowers.

“Just relax, hyung!” Wooyoung says, exasperated, waving a hand at his friend and coworker. “Look natural!”

He has a camera pointed at Park Seonghwa; an absolute sweetheart and strong contender for the title of ‘most attractive person you have ever met’.

(A title that Wooyoung and San and literally every single one of their friends are in the running for. You’re still not convinced they didn’t hire their entire social life from a modelling agency.)

You watch them with amused interest. You’ve only met Seonghwa twice before, but he had enthusiastically greeted you when you entered the shop earlier. Now all that bright friendliness has faded, replaced by a stiff smile that’s stretched uncomfortably across his face.

“I don’t look natural?” he asks, nervous in his role as a model. “Why do you need me anyway, isn’t all this for the webshop? Why aren’t you taking photos of the displays?”

Wooyoung sighs impatiently, shaking his head at Seonghwa’s obliviousness. “Are you kidding me? The internet is gonna eat your face up. This is going on all the socials, hyung, we’re going for a viral sensation here! Viral! Now go stand next to those hibiscus and look pretty, alright?”

While Seonghwa moves around the store for a good spot, Wooyoung shakes his head and gives you a pointed look.

“Can you believe this? Man has a phone bursting with selfies and now he gets camera shy? I really thought this’d be a cake-walk.”

You giggle at Wooyoung’s mumbled grousing, and give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You never actually planned to visit Wooyoung at work today, but after last night activities, you’d been overtaken by an unshakable urge to check in on him.

He’d been yours to take care of, bound and blindfolded, and you can’t shake off an oddly protective feeling, like he is still yours to take care of even now. (San also always insists on dropping by at your place after an intense scene. You always poked fun at his overprotectiveness, but now you understand his chivalrous instincts a little better.)

There really was no need for you to worry; Wooyoung is energetic and upbeat, firing off jokes at Seonghwa in an attempt to relax him.

“What if I pretend to be a customer? Just to set the scene, distract him from the camera,” you suggest to Wooyoung. “But no pictures of me!” you add quickly. “I don’t need to be on this place’s instagram or whatever, alright?”

Wooyoung perks up at your offer. “Yeah, that could work! Come, hyung, pretend it’s just another day on the job.”

He ushers you to join Seonghwa between the colourful dahlias and asters, where you exaggeratedly clear your throat and roll your shoulders, readying yourself for your acting performance.

“Okay, so help me out here,” you tell Seonghwa, overly serious. “Let’s say I want to give my neighbour some flowers. What type of bouquet would I need to communicate my sympathies because his boyfriend never stops bullying him?”

“Oi!” Wooyoung protests, but he has to bite down a laugh to keep his camera steady. “Hwa, maybe you should put together something for a poor guy whose boyfriend’s neighbour keeps bullying him!”

But Seonghwa lets out an adorable giggle, and his smile relaxes now you’ve put him onto a task — no matter how silly the task is. “Well, edelweiss are often associated with courage, that seems appropriate here, right?” he says, meandering through the store. “Or what about some red camellia? Means ‘to persist with grace’ in hanakotoba.”

“San does show remarkable grace throughout his many struggles,” you agree solemnly.

“Same can’t be said about you,” Wooyoung retaliates with a grin.

You stick out your tongue at him, very much proving his point. But then you quietly hang back while Seonghwa enthusiastically digs into the particulars to fulfil your fake request. Your distraction works exactly as intended; now that he has relaxed, his natural sweetness gets a chance to shine on camera.

Seonghwa continues babbling about flower language at you, until the photo-shoot is put on hold when a soft bell chimes through the store. The door opens, and an actual customer steps inside.

Seonghwa helps the distraught-looking young man, who seems to have made some disastrous choices in his relationship — but you don’t listen in on their conversation for too long. Instead, you and Wooyoung reconvene at the counter.

He takes you through his haul of photos, badgering you for feedback. Your lack of expertise never seems to stop Wooyoung from valuing your opinion, always eager to hear what you have to say. So you point out the photos you like best, and happily let him use you as a soundboard.

He nods thoughtfully when you admit to liking the photos where Seonghwa is still just slightly nervous; there is endearing about his tentative smile, making his beauty approachable rather than intimidating. “Maybe you could a few from that side of the store too?” you suggest, gesturing to an area to the side. “The succulent arrangements there are really cute.”

“Oh, good idea!” His eyes flicker over the displays, and already you can see the gears in his head turning, working out the best angles and observing how the natural light falls.

“Do you want me to take over the camera for a bit?” you ask.

“You? Why?”

You shrug, idly looking through more of the photographs. “You said you wanted a viral sensation, right? Getting some shots of you definitely won’t hurt.”

“Are you saying I look sexy?” Wooyoung grins as he leans on the counter, running a deliberate hand through his hair.

“No, that’s what you’re saying. I never used that word,” you tease him. “…But yeah. You look pretty sexy.”

You see no point in lying. There’s something unreasonably appealing about Wooyoung in a dark green apron, fitted around his slim waist; especially combined with a simple off-white shirt, rolled up to his elbows to show off his veiny forearms. He has his hair partially tied back into a half ponytail, the loose strands falling attractively into his face.

Wooyoung lets out a pleased giggle, bumping his shoulder into you and sticking close. His fingers reach to play against your wrist, tapping and drawing circles on your skin. He’s been acting especially clingy today, making you wonder if he also feels the remnants of yesterday’s scene just like you are.

Either way, you don’t give too much thought to his touchy-feely mood, until you keep looking through the photos — and see yourself back on the screen.

“Woo, didn’t I tell you? Not me!” you complain, whapping him on the arm, but it’s hard not to be struck by the picture; the way he has caught your face in the sunlight, your eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as you play customer for Seonghwa. Wooyoung has always had an uncanny ability to capture your happiness in his photos, bringing your inner joy to the surface. Sometimes the intensity of your own expression catches you off guard, making you wonder if your smile ever used to be that wide before.

Wooyoung pats your shoulder reassuringly, holding you into a half-hug. “This photo isn’t for the socials; it’s for me,” he grins and leans in, his lips suddenly pressed against your skin for a firm peck on the cheek.

You freeze instantly.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks, but then his memory kicks in. “Ahh right, sorry sorry! No kissing when we’re not— Yep, got it.”

“Yeah,” you say awkwardly. It’s fine, you tell yourself. Wooyoung forgot a boundary, he corrected himself; that’s all. Drop it and move on.

But Wooyoung, caught up in his playful mood, is not dropping it. He tilts his head, his eyes curved with a happy smile of mischievous curiosity. “So really, not just on the lips, no kisses at all? Any room to haggle out a deal? How about… on the top of your head?” he teases, pretending to move in. “Or the tip of your nose?”

Wooyoung keeps feigning more attempts at a kiss, treating the line drawn by your ground rule like a tightrope, balancing right across and threatening to topple over.

And there is no safety net underneath, not for you.

Your good mood shrinks away as Wooyoung happily jokes around, a tightness freezing you up. “No, no don’t,” you say, stiffly pressing a hand against Wooyoung’s shoulder to push him back. “Don’t fool around, Woo. Not this time.”

A strange mix of guilt and discomfort tangles sharply around your chest. Discomfort at Wooyoung’s flippant reaction to your boundary, guilt for having a boundary against one of his preferred displays of affection in the first place.

Wooyoung sobers up when he sees how badly he misjudged the situation. “Hey, sorry alright?” he says, raising his hands in apology. “I didn’t realise it was a big deal.”

In a way, you agree. The kiss itself didn’t need to be a big deal, not if Wooyoung had just let you shrug it off.

But either way, it is part of a big deal.

Once again, you hear the clock in your head, ticking away until the end of your arrangement with San and Wooyoung. Right now, it’s louder than ever.

Most days you just try to enjoy the moment, and avoid thinking too much about it. Now the full weight threatens to come crashing down on you, right in the middle of the flower shop.

Usually you imagine it ending by a slow drifting of interest; a gradual, undefined shift where you fade into the background noise of each others’ lives. Still friends, hopefully, but no longer closely entangled the way you are now.

But the kiss is a blunt reminder that things can also shift in a different direction; San or Wooyoung might grow to want things, feelings, that you cannot offer them. You are happy with the way things are now — but how long before they aren’t? What if this one small stupid kiss is the first of many clashes? What if this is the first sign of some inherent incompatibility between their needs and yours?

What if they ever decide that what you can give them isn’t enough?

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you stay stiffly, trying to keep the tight spool of emotions contained.

Hurt flashes across Wooyoung’s face at your obvious attempt to brush him off. “I’m worrying about it a little,” he says, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “You know I didn’t—”

But Wooyoung swallows down the rest of his words when Seonghwa joins him behind the counter with an armful of flowers for the customer. Wooyoung magics on his friendliest smile, amicably chatting away with the distressed young man while Seonghwa deftly assembles a beautiful arrangement of soft rosy and lavender hues.

Together they comfort their upset customer, assuring him his girlfriend will love these, though you know they’ll be like two gossiping aunties the moment this poor guy leaves the store.

You try to relax during the wait, but suddenly the store’s sweet floral aroma is cloying to the senses, threatening you with a headache.

You just want to get out, take a few deep breaths of fresh air, and ease down your discomfort without Wooyoung constantly casting glances at you. His bright customer service smile hides most of his true expression, but there is definitely a worry in his eyes, and you can’t stop thinking about the earlier hurt on his face.

The customer leaves with his flowers and a soft jingle of the door chime, and Seonghwa turns to Wooyoung.

“How about we do a video too? Talk the boss into making a tiktok account for the store?” Seonghwa suggests, his nerves fully flipped over into excitement now that he’s gotten comfortable with the camera. In his enthusiasm, he clocks a beat too late that something is off with his coworker. “Uh, Wooyoung? Everything alright?”

“Not sure,” Wooyoung says, lines drawn on his brow as he looks at you. “Are we alright?”

“Yeah, I just— I’m gonna head back, see you later, okay?” you say, the headache no longer just a threat.

Wooyoung’s worry falls away from his face to make way for disbelief, and an annoyance prickles to life as you try to brush him off — again. “Wait, are you serious? C’mon, it’s only like five minutes ‘til closing time, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t be like that.”

(Shit. You hadn’t realised it’d gotten that late already.)

Unsure, Seonghwa looks between you and Wooyoung. “Hey, why don’t you just leave early, Wooyo?” he offers. “It’s pretty quiet today, I got this. My turn to close up shop anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Wooyoung hesitates, but gives in when Seonghwa gives him a friendly nudge. “Yeah, see you tomorrow. I owe you one, Hwa.”

The way back to the apartment building is quite possibly the most awkward that things have ever been between you and Wooyoung — which is saying something, considering the whole ‘you walking in on him and San having sex’-thing that kicked all of this off in the first place.

Neither of you bring up what just happened, honouring an unspoken agreement to wait until you’re back home. There are a few stilted attempts at smalltalk, like you and Wooyoung are both trying to keep some thin thread of connection alive; but there is mostly just silence.

Wooyoung quietly trudges next to you with his face drawn, hands stuffed in his pockets, and plenty of thoughts on his mind. (You can’t help but wonder; how many of those are second thoughts?)

It’s a painful contrast with how affectionately clingy he was before, but thankfully the apartment building is just one quick subway stop away, and then it is only an elevator ride up to the top floor. You follow Wooyoung into San’s place without really thinking about it, like that’s just where you are supposed to be.

Inside, Wooyoung shucks off his shoes and barely waits for you to follow him into the living room. “Okay, we’re home, can we talk now?” he says, looking back at you with a tight expression on his face. “Cause that back there? That wasn’t cool.”

San, who had been hanging out on the couch, puts down his phone and blinks in surprise at the heavy tension that just walked into his apartment. “What wasn’t cool?”

“It’s not—” you start, but Wooyoung bluntly interrupts you.

“I kissed her.”

“Wait, you what?” San says, now outright startled.

“On the cheek,” Wooyoung explains, then crosses his arms as he turns back to you. “And no, I shouldn’t have — but when you tried to ditch me like that? That wasn’t cool either.”

His frustration is contagious, and you feel yourself responding in kind. “You know what else isn’t cool? You doubling down on the whole thing and making a laugh of it instead of just backing off,” you bite at Wooyoung.

Anger blooms inside you; anger that has very little to do with that stupid kiss on the cheek.

Every time you have to remind him or San of a boundary, it feels like you are speeding up the clock on this relationship, rushing closer towards the end. And you can’t help but resent Wooyoung for making you do it twice.

“You think I like telling you no? I don’t!” you snap, the frustration now burning behind your eyes. “Whenever I gotta push back against something, I feel like I’m pushing you away. I don’t want that! I don’t want to push you away, so just— Stop making me!”

“Make you?” Wooyoung snaps back. “How about yesterday then? I didn’t make you do anything; you started on that whole ‘we can still be friends after we stop having sex’ business all on your own, and that felt like a pretty big shove to me.”

Poor San looks completely out of his depth, uncertain as he glances back-and-forth between arguments, but his eyes widen at Wooyoung’s words. “Wait, you want to stop this?” he asks, staring at you in shock.

“No, of course I don’t!” you say, flustered that San’s takeaway is the exact same as Wooyoung’s had been. “Why do you guys keep asking that?!”

“Because you’re the one who brought it up!” Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes at you.

Your mouth opens, then closes again. Shit. That’s… actually a good point. “Not because I want us to stop,” you say, your heated anger slowly cooling down to brittle embarrassment, “I’m just…”

“Wait, hang on, hang on,” San says, finally willing himself into motion.

Carefully, he takes your and Wooyoung’s hands, then leads you to sit on the couch with him in the middle. He doesn’t let go of your hands.

“So let me get this straight. You” — he looks pointedly at Wooyoung — “are upset because you don’t want her to push us away. And you” — he turns to look at you — “are upset because you also don’t want to push us away? So what the hell am I missing here? Aren’t you on the same page? Can we please maybe entertain the idea that you guys aren’t actually mad at each other!”

Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to cool down, the frustration seeping out of his shoulders. He sighs, something releasing in his breath, then meets your eyes with a tentative grimace.

“I’m not mad at you,” he admits awkwardly. (San lets out a sigh of relief.) “What you said yesterday… maybe it shook me up a bit more than I realised.”

You mirror his grimace, struggling to meet his eyes. “I’m not mad either,” you say, equally awkward. “Sorry, I didn’t really think about how that question could sound to you. I was just looking for reassurance, I swear.”

San squeezes his hand around yours, daring a cautious little smile now the thorn has been taken out of this conversation. “Reassurance for what?”

“Just what I said,” you say with a rueful laugh, unsure how to explain better. “That we’ll still be friends even after things between us change.”

Wooyoung makes a noise of exasperation.

“No but see, that kinda pisses me off,” he says, getting worked up again. “Listen, I get what you were saying, that we don’t know what will happen in the future. But why are you so convinced we’re stopping this any time soon? Sure, we don’t know if it will go on forever, but isn’t that the same for anything? Hell, who can even say if San and I won’t ever break up either?”

“Um, I can?!” San interjects, giving Wooyoung a distressed look.

“I didn’t— Sannie, I’m not saying we will!” Wooyoung says, interrupting his own vehement monologue with a fond laugh, patting at San’s hair. “I just mean you never know! But bringing up stuff like ‘after’ and staying friends…” Wooyoung looks at you with a faded smile. “It made me feel like you got one foot out the door already.”

His words sink in slowly… and for the second time today, you’re forced to admit that Wooyoung sure is making a good point.

(And despite everything, you can’t help but feel a small burst of happiness at Wooyoung’s complete distaste at the thought of ending your arrangement.)

“Maybe… yeah. Maybe I do have a foot out,” you say wryly. “Past experiences have turned me into a bit of a pessimist, I guess. But if they taught me anything, it’s that whenever I got something more involved going on, one of two things always happens. Usually, the whole thing just… dissolves. Not always on purpose, but it does. We’re having fun, but then the fun wears off or it isn’t convenient anymore or something else comes along that’s simply more important.”

“You’re important to us,” Wooyoung protests, sulking.

“Yeah, well. I’m important to Hongjoong too. He still left,” you say sharply, and for the first time, you allow yourself some bitterness in that truth. (Obviously you would have told him to go, had he asked. He never asked. And really, what right did you have to expect him to? You are ‘just’ friends, after all. But fuck, it hurts.)

Wooyoung flinches back, blinking in surprise at your tone, and a fresh wave of guilt bubbles up inside you. You hate it. Why, even in the privacy of your own mind, do you feel guilty for not wanting to be put in second or third or last place for once?

You sigh, reaching across San’s lap to rest a hand on Wooyoung’s thigh. “Sorry Woo, that wasn’t fair,” you say, not thinking too much on if that’s true or not. Right now, you’re tired and just want to smooth things over, not set off another argument.

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung mumbles; and for a moment you worry that it is not fine at all. He stands up, shoulders low from fatigue as he stares at the floor — but then he grabs your hand without even meeting your eyes and pulls you up on your feet, right into a hug.

His grip on you is so tight it knocks the breath of out of you. One of his hands finds the space between your shoulder blades, fingers clinging at the fabric of your shirt, while the other cups the back of your head, drawing you even closer into his warmth.

You can’t see his face, burrowed against your shoulder, but you think you can hear a muffled “you couldn’t push me away if you tried”. A cautious smile curves around your lips, and you gently return his hug, carding your fingers through his dark hair.

It only takes a moment for another set of arms to join the fray, and you let out a soft ‘oof’ as the full strength of San wraps around you and Wooyoung, his firm body pressing into yours.

“You guys scared me,” he pouts, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me? Are we all good now?”

You free up an arm to clutch at San’s shoulder; still a bit unsteady but reassured by their dual presences. “Better, definitely,” you allow with a soft smile.

Wooyoung lifts his head up. There is no anger in his face, but the furrow of his brow still hasn’t relaxed. “We are good,” he mumbles. “I still feel kinda shitty. I know I fool around a lot, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun. Never meant to actually upset you.”

“I know,” you say, gently brushing through his hair. “It’s okay. Sorry I tried to shut you out.”

San looks from you to Wooyoung, gears turning behind his eyes as he sees you’re both not fully at peace yet. “Let’s take it easy tonight, alright?” he says with an encouraging smile. “You two go freshen up or take a nap or something, I’ll order some food, and after that we’ll make sure everyone gets all nice and relaxed. I may know just the thing.”

A ping of curiosity goes off at San’s last words, but you know asking won’t be any use; he likes to keep his surprises. “Thanks, San,” you smile back, “and thanks for snapping us out of it.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta be the sensible one around here,” he grins — and lets out a tiny, cute yelp when Wooyoung lovingly bites his shoulder.

“You think you’re the sensible one?” Wooyoung says in teasing disbelief, right back to his menacing ways.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Yeah, I’m with Woo on this one,” you say. “Sense? San, you bark at Byeol.”

San makes an offended noise. “Byeol grew up around pups, she doesn’t speak cat!” he defends himself, endearingly earnest.

“Ah yes, perfectly sensible,” Wooyoung drawls, exchanging a grin with you; and as your eyes meet, you know that things will be alright between you.

San tries to glare at you and Wooyoung, a look that is completely neutralised by the pout on his lips. “You two really want to piss off the guy who’s about to buy you dinner? That a road you want to go down?” he threatens, but there’s a poorly hidden, happy gleam in his eyes.

Wooyoung throws his arms around San, pressing an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “Love you, babe!”

You hug San with equal enthusiasm, nuzzling against his shoulder. “Thank you, food daddy!”

“‘Food daddy’?!” San gives you a startled look but quickly sighs in defeat, patting you and Wooyoung on the head. “Fine, fine. Go take a shower or something and I’ll handle it.”

A long shower and a hot meal later, you find yourself in the familiar space of San’s bedroom; the white walls contrasted by dark sheets and curtains, with their the monochrome artwork of vast mountains and woodlands. A place you’ve come to associate with safety and pleasure; a place that eases the tension in your body just by breathing the air between these four walls.

Soft music drifts through the background; one of San’s easy listening playlists, relaxed and unobtrusive, and he even took the time to light a subtly scented candle. The atmosphere is quietly intimate, but also distinctly chaste, with none of the usual heat.

You are kneeled down on the bed, doing some light shoulder stretches to warm your body up, comfy in a basic sports bra and a pair of sleeping shorts. Wooyoung is dressed in a shirt and baggy boxers — and adorned by lines of rope stretched across his chest, already halfway into a box-tie. He submits to San’s work with a languid smile, slowly letting the outside world slip away.

“Of course your ‘thing’ would involve rope,” you tease San, then sigh in bliss at a particularly satisfying stretch. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Hey, if it works, it works,” San says with a wink. “Besides, you sure were eager enough when I pitched the idea.”

To literally tie you and Wooyoung together? A little on the nose, perhaps, but god San had looked so cute when he suggested it, so proud of himself for his ingenious plan, and you’d hardly object to such a thing anyway.

You realised long ago that bondage is a bit of a favourite between San and Wooyoung, and they are no strangers to non-sexual forms of rope play either. Both for the intimacy and calming benefits of the act itself, and to test out complex ties or positions in a low intensity environment.

San finishes the box tie on Wooyoung, securely cinching both his arms and wrists, ropes crisscrossed prettily across his chest. Already you can see the shift on Wooyoung’s face; in the right mood, rope is one of the few things that truly slows him down, its soothing effect reaching all the way into his very core.

“Everything good?” San asks, his voice like velvet while he checks the knots. “That’s it, slow your breathing,” he hums, raising and lowering a hand in time with Wooyoung’s breath, guiding him deeper into an almost trance-like state. “Focus on the smell of the candle, how the rope feels against your skin, holding you in. Nothing in the world except the three of us in this room.”

He tenderly cups Wooyoung’s cheek for a soft kiss, lingering close as their foreheads touch.

“I’m right here, I’ll be right next to you,” San whispers. “Just keep your eyes on me, alright?”

You smile softly at San’s reassurance. Even when he is forced to divide his attention between two subs, San always finds small ways to stay connected, especially when one of you is in a vulnerable state.

Wooyoung briefly rubs his nose against San’s, then lets him go with a content sigh. A familiar warmth spreads in your chest at being the witness to their intimacy, their willingness to share unguarded moments of delicate happiness.

Then San turns to you, and treats you to a moment of delicate happiness of your own with a light brush of his knuckles across your cheek. “You ready?” he asks with a small grin, looking far more relaxed himself too. Like the act of tying up Wooyoung unwound something inside him as well.

You nod, filled with gentle anticipation. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then let’s get started,” he says, holding up a piece of rope with a playful spark in his eyes.

You settle down while San goes to work, a feeling of serenity washing over you with the knowledge you are in safe hands. He is as meticulous as always, an easy rhythm to his movement, like the cords are an extension of his body, wrapping himself around you.

San’s slightly calloused fingertips brush against your sports bra and against bare skin. Even with zero intent on arousal, there is a sensuality to the way his hands move over your body, leaving a trail of rope that are not unlike his fingertips; slightly coarse but still soft. There is no restraining element to your decorative harness, but it feels secure around you, grounding your senses. With every cord San lays across your chest, he reduces the world further down to just this place, this moment; no thoughts, no worries, no conflict.

You glance at Wooyoung to find him watching you with a slow, dopey smile, all his earlier tension evaporated. His smile widens when he notices you looking, and your own lips curve up in response.

The diamond chest harness snugly hugs your breasts, and you feel the odd urge to preen, filled with a surge of confidence at how they accentuate the soft curves of your body. You arch your back just lightly, and Wooyoung bites his lip with a breathy laugh; he will always respect the need to show off.

“Looks nice,” he says, slightly raspy from the effort to summon his voice.

“Back at you,” you hum, casting an admiring glance at Wooyoung’s body and the ropework. “San did well.”

San strokes the back of your head, and gives the nape of your neck a small, appreciate squeeze at your compliment. “Ready for the next part?” he asks, looking from you to Wooyoung with a quiet intensity in his eyes, fully absorbed in his role of caretaker.

Once he is sure you are both still comfortable and in a good mind-space, San helps you down on the bed, on your side with one arm outstretched in wait. Then he helps Wooyoung to lay next to you, your arms neatly wrapping around Wooyoung’s waist as you scoot close, until your chests are pressed up against each other.

Wooyoung gives you a half-grin, his trance-like slumber disturbed by the change in position. He is close, so incredibly close that you can see even the faintest blemishes on his skin, tiny faded scars and small traces of acne. There is something mesmeric about them, grounding you deeper into the reality of the moment, the reality of him.

“Yeah, I like this,” Wooyoung sighs, wiggling closer while San ties up your wrists behind Wooyoung’s back, trapping you together.

“Good,” San says, his eyes curving as he finishes the last knot and looks up at you. “How about you? Still comfortable?”

More than comfortable; small jolts of excitement are firing off inside your veins at Wooyoung’s proximity, but you take a few slow breaths, guiding yourself back into the easy-going atmosphere. “Very,” you joke, squeezing your arms around Wooyoung. “As far as methods of conflict resolution go, this is definitely a new favourite.”

“See? Told you it was a good idea.” San grins at you, grabbing another length of rope; his work is not done yet. He starts on Wooyoung’s ankles, whose expression has gone thoughtful at your comment.

Tied up the way you are, there is no escaping Wooyoung’s pensive gaze — but you don’t try to, meeting his eyes while he is brought into an even deeper state of constraint. He slowly blinks at you, pupils dilated in the dim light of the room.

“What was the other way?” he asks.

“‘Other way’?” you frown, trying to work out what Wooyoung is talking about.

“You said that whenever you’re involved in this type of situation, there are two ways for it to end,” Wooyoung says, still looking at you intently. “You never told us the second one.”

San perks up in curiosity at the question.

Ah shit. You groan, reflexively trying to hide your face in your hands — but they are securely locked behind Wooyoung’s back, so all you do is pull him in closer into the soft cushion of your chest. He is happy to let you, the ropes of your harnesses pressing into each other.

“Wait, is it embarrassing?” he asks, almost a little too eager; Wooyoung loves embarrassing stories.

“Not— not exactly,” you quickly disillusion him. “I told you it usually ends because interest fades, right? Well, the other way is… the opposite, pretty much.”

“Too much interest?” San asks, his hand now on your ankle, nudging you to bend your knee and hook your leg over Wooyoung’s.

You breathe out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah that’s spot on, actually,” you say, following San’s guiding touch. Your hips neatly line up with Wooyoung’s, and San starts to anchor you together. “Last person that I had a friends with benefits type of deal with, he… Well, he started to have some romantic ideas about me, about our deal. When I couldn’t feel the same way about him, he made it real damn clear he took that personally. Blamed me for wasting his time. Now… Now I don’t know if we ever really were friends at all.”

Saying it out loud hurts more than you expected, a painful reminder of how he’d seen your friendship as nothing more than a stepping stone.

You had genuinely liked him, enjoyed his company, but none of your time together had any intrinsic value to him except as a prelude to romance. Didn’t matter that you’d been upfront from the start; he’d still convinced himself that his feelings for you would magically change yours, like he was the one person who’d finally ‘fix’ you. His word, not yours — and that had hurt the most of all, threatening to undo all the work you’d done to teach yourself you were not broken in the first place.

Frustratingly, sudden tears burn behind your eyes. It is the vulnerability of the bondage, you tell yourself. It is because you are tired. It’s definitely not because of some asshole who’s not worth a single spare thought. Dammit, you can’t even wipe your face right now, forced to try and push back your tears through sheer willpower.

Wooyoung scoffs loudly, breaking your concentration.

“What a fucking asshole,” he says, shaking his head. He tries to grab onto your hands, still tied behind his back, but the best he can manage from this position is for his fingers to graze against your wrist. “His loss, if he thinks any time spent with you is a waste.”

“Agreed,” San says, squeezing your knee. The ropework around your leg is half-finished and forgotten. “The friendzone is criminally underrated, if you ask me,” he says, and somehow he manages to be joking and completely earnest all at once. “And our zone? Some cool hot gal lets me be her friend, and she’ll let me smash? I fail to see the problem.”

You hiccup a laugh, tears shaking loose from your lashes. “Yeah, you know what? You’re right. I’m a damn platonic catch!”

“Damn straight you are!” San grins, his hand warm and reassuring on your leg.

Wooyoung still looks intensely at you, his eyes flickering across your face, tracing your tears. Briefly, the thought strikes you that he wants to kiss you.

Right now, with your bodies trapped together, there is very little you actually could do to stop Wooyoung from kissing you again — but you do not panic when he leans in, filled with absolute trust. A trust that Wooyoung proves himself to be deserving of when he just clumsily brushes his nose against your cheek, an awkward attempt at wiping your tears.

You start to giggle when you realise what he’s doing, and Wooyoung joins in when he realises how futile and ill-conceived his efforts are. “San? A little help here?” he laughs, leaning back to his original position. He shakes his head at his own silly impulse, his bright smile even more beautiful and contagious from so close-by.

San does not hesitate, grabbing a tissue from his nightstand before he lays down behind you, leaning over to properly wipe your face. He does not return to his ropework, opting to stay close for a proper cuddle. His cheek presses against your shoulder, an arm slung heavily across your waist so his hand rests on Wooyoung’s hip.

“Just, for the record,” San says, his voice so close to your ear it raises goosebumps, “all jokes aside, I really am happy with how we are now.”

You manage to turn your head just enough to give San a grateful look, gently bumping your forehead against his. “Me too,” you say, and hesitate for only a moment to say more. “You… you guys do know I care about you, right? Like, a lot.”

“We do,” he smiles, dimples and all, while Wooyoung tries to squeeze his hands around yours again.

“But sometimes that only makes more difficult, to try and figure out how to navigate all this,” you say, grimacing again. “Even now? Right now? Some tiny part of me is worried that I gave off the wrong signal by saying that. It’s like I’m trapped in some weird split, and I’ll either push you away or lead you on, even by accident.”

Wooyoung chuckles dryly. “You get stuck in your head a lot, don’t you,” he observes almost conversationally.

“…Yeah,” you admit with a chuckle of your own.

“You know,” San says gently, “it’s not like I never thought about this kind of stuff either. Where it’s going, when you might break things off. Maybe I should’ve brought it up myself, I don’t know. Maybe I was worried where that conversation might go.”

Wooyoung blinks in surprise. “Wait, you also thought we might stop having sex anytime soon?”

“…You really never considered that??”

“Not until yesterday! Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“I just—” San shrugs, a little helpless. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

(It is an odd thought; all this time, you wondered how much time you’d have before San and Wooyoung inevitably moved on, while San wondered the very same thing about you.)

Wooyoung’s frown returns, and he shifts a little against his restraints. “Hey, you know I don’t like it when you don’t talk about what’s bugging you. Even if the thing bugging you isn’t me.”

The last part is light-hearted, but you can still sense his concern, a history of past conversations in his voice.

It is a new side they are showing to you; allowing you to witness not only the intimacy of their happiness, but the intimacy of their disputes as well. Somehow it’s both uncomfortable and a comfort at once; you are literally trapped between them, but there is something revealing about this kind of vulnerability, their willingness to let you into their lives. The pretty and the unpretty parts of it.

“I— Yeah no, you’re right. I should’ve,” San says quietly, reaching to brush his fingers across Wooyoung’s cheek. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, but there is a budding grin on his lips. “Seriously, this all would’ve been sorted out so fast if either of you just talked to me about it. Idiots.”

“I did talk to you!” you splutter in protest.

“Yeah and here we are, not twenty-four hours later! Case closed!”

(Damn, he really won’t stop making great points today.)

“No, not ‘case closed’,” San says, huffing a laugh. “That’s what I was trying to talk about!” His face goes a little softer, leaning over your shoulder just enough so he can make proper eye-contact with you. “Listen,” he says gently, “we don’t have to work out anything definitive right now, but I— we’d like it if you stuck around for a long time. If you want.”

He rushes to add the last part, like he’s worried even the tiniest hint at anything remotely resembling a commitment could make you bolt like a startled deer — and you can hardly blame him for that.

You give him a quiet nod, unable to do much more right now than acknowledge his offer, then you look at Wooyoung, to see where he is at right now.

“Yeah, I’m with San,” Wooyoung says earnestly, but you spot the playful gleam in his eyes even before he opens his mouth again. “Seriously, what do I care if I get to kiss you or not, if it means we get to keep you around? I’d rather learn a little self-control than miss out on you.”

You exhale a soft, fond laugh. “Thanks, Woo. I know what a sacrifice that is for you,” you tease him, but you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter to make clear you really do appreciate it.

“Oh, it’s a huge sacrifice. Don’t you dare think I’m treating this lightly,” Wooyoung says, absolutely treating it lightly “Do you even realise just how much I love smooching my friends? So. Damn. Much. You better be grateful!”

You’re fully aware of how much he loves it; you’ve seen often enough how he — and San — menace their friends with kisses the same way you like to menace Hongjoong with hugs. In hindsight it’s a small miracle that it took this long for either of them to slip up and lay one on you at the wrong moment.

You try to move your arm to reach back and touch San, and are mildly surprised when you can’t, still restrained by the ropes around your wrists. They’d almost been forgotten, like they are as natural to your body as wearing clothes.

“…Hey, is it weird that we just had this whole heart-to-heart while me and Wooyoung are tied up?”

San just shrugs, giving you a small grin. “As long as it works for us. That’s how we’re doing this whole thing, right?” But it does pull his attention back to the bondage, and he testingly feels at your bindings. “Does it all still feel good?”

“Really good,” you sigh. “Definitely worth revisiting this type of thing under different circumstances. Ah… I think Wooyoung agrees,” you blurt out the last part; his cock gave an enthused twitch at the suggestion of doing this again, noticeable even through his boxers.

“Oh, does he now?” San purrs, running his hand over Wooyoung’s chest harness.

Wooyoung is predictably shameless. “Hey, I’m enjoying myself. I’m all for a redo without clothes getting in the way.”

“Then we’ll make that happen soon, for sure,” San says, biting his lip. “Want me to untie you now, or stay like this for a bit longer?”

You and Wooyoung exchange a look, coming to an unspoken, unanimous agreement. “Bit longer.”

San hums, the heated look in his eyes softening back into affectionate warmth. He nestles back against you, throwing a leg over yours to hook his ankle around Wooyoung’s; creating another connective thread between the three of you as the bedroom settles into a relaxed, almost dream-like space.

You’re still restrained, but you have never felt less trapped. Instead you surrender your body and mind to the rope, to San, even to Wooyoung, although he is just as tied up as you; and you know you are welcome here, your presence treasured for exactly the way you are.

The feeling lingers even after San carefully untangles you and Wooyoung, enveloping you like a soft, serene glow.

You feel it in the gleam of San’s eyes as he rubs circles into your wrists, gentle deep pressure to encourage your bloodflow. You feel it in the weight of Wooyoung’s head resting on your shoulder, so quiet that you think he has dozed off until he giggles at an exchange of small jokes between you and San.

You feel it even after you leave their physical presence behind to turn in for the night; it’s right there in the ease of your thoughts, in knowing they won’t carelessly discard you.

The timer has stopped, no longer ticking away in your head. Instead San’s offer echoes through you, resonating stronger with every repeat.

“We’d like it if you stuck around, for a long time. If you want.”

In truth, you never gave much thought to what you actually want the future with San and Wooyoung to look like, other than some vague idea of ‘existing in each others’ lives’. You always assumed the choice would be made for you, and to fill in any details would only set you up to get hurt.

Now they have extended a hand to fill in those details together. And you don’t know what it’ll look like exactly — a platonic commitment of some sorts, something that works for the three of you regardless of traditional conventions — but you do know that you want to stick around. For a long time.

The next morning, you wake up to find a 4AM text from Wooyoung.

hey so non-sexy kissing is off the table but i can still bite u right

You snort tiredly, still half-asleep. Like he hasn’t been doing plenty of that already! But you resolve to go see him today, and give an in-person demonstration to show him exactly how you feel about bites.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 22

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

1.6k words

While you absolutely needed summer clothes you got the feeling that Bira had something extra in mind. At least your husband seemed to like it!

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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“Thanks for helping me with this” you said as Bira lead you through the busy streets.

“Of course! I’m not going to let you drop dead from the heat! I’m just happy Zen’jan waved me down to let me know” Bira responded.

It was quite a walk to the shop, tucked into a corner of the city that was mostly minotaurs, though Bira assured you several times her friend who owed the shop would be able to help.

“Hoonti!” Bira practically yelled as the two of you entered the shop.

The minotaur woman behind the counter looked and smiled, “Bira!” and the two quickly launched into an animated conversation in orcish.

“This is Hoonti, a long time friend of mine” Bira introduced, “and one of the best tailors I know. She’s going to take your measurements and ask a few questions and get started on making you a few things to start with”.

“Sounds good!” you answered.

Hoonti got right to work, buzzing about you with her measuring tape while Bira translated her questions.

“Any preferences for colors? Or any colors you absolutely don’t want?” Bira translated.

“Nothing too bright” you said.

“That’s no fun!” said Bira.

Bira was almost always in bright colors and clothes with fancy trim or details, though Zen always dressed pretty simply. He seemed to be the odd one out though, most of the trolls in the city seemed to be more like Bira with bright, highly detailed clothes and lots of jewelry. The closet thing to jewelry you ever saw Zen wear were the gold bands at the base of his tusks, though he had gotten you a few bracelets and necklaces.

“Okay okay okay, nothing too bright but let me pick one outfit for you, please!” Bira practically begged.

“One outfit” you repeated firmly.

“Just one! And I promise you’ll like it, and so will Zen’jan! It’ll make him happy”.

You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t worry, it’s just something traditional but it needs to be bright! Just trust me” she said.

“Sure”.

Many rounds of questions later and Bira and you were leaving the shop with the promise that Hoonti would drop the clothes off in a few days when she was done.

“So, you and Zen’jan” Bira began.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“He seems a lot happier than usual recently”

You could not help but smile a bit over that. There had been a shift in Zen over the last week, he was more relaxed around the house and was comfortable taking up space. He sat and stood up straight, no longer always trying to make himself smaller, he lounged and stretched out across the bed, he constantly showed you little affections like a hand on your shoulder or waist for a moment when he walked past or a quick nuzzle where he could.

“It’s been a good week” you smiled.

“Well, it’s good to hear that. He’s been doing better in general since you got married, he doesn’t look so tired and drained all the time anymore. He’s never been the best at taking care of himself, though it looks like he’s getting better about it though now that he has someone else to take care of”.

Bira showed you a few more of her favorite places around the city before walking you home.

“I’m happy he has you” Bira told you as she hugged you.

“I’m happy I have him too” you told her.

Three days later Bira and Hoonti showed up in the middle of the day laden with new clothes for you. Skirts, pants, shirts, and dresses of varying lengths, colors, and styles and much better suited for the weather than anything you brought.

They both fawned over you while you tried stuff on, it felt silly with how they fussed over you, but it was still fun.

“Ok ok, last one!” Bira called and handed you the last outfit.

It was several pieces all in a rich shade of red and trimmed with shiny gold embroidery and pearls.

“And I’m guessing this is what you were so excited about?” you asked.

“Just try it on!” she was so excited.

You ducked back into the bathroom to untangle the pieces; a pair of shorts, a wide rectangle of fabric with the beautiful embroidery on one long edge, and a longer thinner rectangle of fabric with the same embroidery in the center of one of the long edges.

“I’m going to need an explanation” you called from the bathroom.

“Shorts on, the wide rectangle ties over the shorts as a skirt, and just wrap the other around you and I’ll help”.

The shorts were shorter than you would have liked, the skirt came down to your mid thighs but because it was tied together it left quite a slit up the side where you tied it on you hip. You wrapped the other piece around you and shuffled out of the bathroom feeling rather exposed.

“Really?” you asked Bira.

“Yes! You’ve seen me in stuff like this! Don’t act so surprised!”

She helped you with the top, wrapping it behind your back and crossing it over your chest and tying it behind your neck. It left your midriff bare, but much to you surprise it at least covered a good amount of your chest.

“Absolutely perfect” Bira smiled.

“Its short” you muttered back.

“It’s good for hot weather, and for dancing! There’s a few festivals coming up that it’s perfect for. And I bet Zen’jan will like it, you should keep it on for when he gets home”.

You chatted with Bira and Hoonti for a while before both left to go about their day. You had to admit you had a lot of movement freedom in the outfit, and while it showed off a lot more than you were used to it was comfy and did look good.

Zen came home later that afternoon, in the last week he had been coming home earlier.

“I hope you do not mind, I stopped by the market in my way home and just picked up- wow” he paused when he saw you.

“It’s looks alright?” you asked.

“More than alright, you look incredible” he sat the food down and crossed the room, quickly placing his hands on your hips while he took a moment to take you in.

“Bira said it would be a good outfit for some festivals coming up”.

“It is, though now I am going to have to actually dress up for festivals to keep up with you” he pulled you closer until you were pressed against him and you could feel him purring.

You could also feel him hard against you. The two of you had been bathing together and sleeping naked, though both of you chose to ignore anything other than cuddling for now.

Zen was breathing hard and you could feel his heart racing being so close to him. He leaned down and nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling you into deep kiss, wasting no time parting you lips and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

It caught you off guard. Zen never initiated anything, he always carefully waited for you to lean into him to cuddle, or for you to kiss him first. His grip on your hips tightened and you felt him grinding against you, felt the way he panted and moaned into your mouth, how his whole body heaved with every breath.

By the time he pulled away you were breathing just as hard, your heart racing while you looked up at him.

“I am sorry” he muttered, “Was that alright?”

You did not answer, instead you tangled your hands into hair and pulled him back in for another kiss. This time you pressed yourself against him and pulled him close just as much as he did to you. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and ran it along the base of his tusks before pulling back a bit and letting him lead again. His tongue nearly filled your mouth and you happily teased him by sucking on his tongue a bit.

Kissing him was never an elegant affair. His tusks always bumped the sides on your face and you also could not tilt your head at the right angle while you were wedged between them. Then mismatch in size between the two of you meant his mouth always entirely covered yours in an odd way, and it all added up to some rather wet, clumsy, and messy kissing but neither of you minded.

His hand drifted lower, cupping your backside and pulling you to rub against him, leaving an ache between your legs. Besides the night you had gotten drunk together, he had not so much as even hinted at anything more than cuddling, his sudden forward was was a bit odd but not unwelcome.

You pulled away from the kiss, “So, formal wear does it for you?” you teased, though at that moment he had also chosen to nudge your legs apart and press his thigh up against your center, making you collapse forward against his chest and let out a soft moan.

“When I come home and my beautiful wife is all dressed up for me it does” his voice was low in your ear and you could hear the need dripping from it. “And as beautiful as you look all dressed up for me, right now all I can think about is helping you out of it all, if you will let me”.

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Part 23

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[torrancefavgirl]

i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lover smut with percy jackson and reader??? like she beats him in a sword fight and then he takes his anger out on her in poseidon's cabin? but it starts as hate sex but turns into loving sex?

(Ride it) just lose control

Pairing: enemies to lovers percy jackson x reader

Warnings: language, smut 18+, couple uses of y/n

Y/n didn't wanna wake up or get out of bed today. You may ask why it's a beautiful spring day and the weather is absolutely amazing. Well, she had a sparring session today with the person who she would describe as the definition of the word 'asshole' and 'piece of shit', and that is percy jackson himself.

She tried to go on about her day trying not to think about the shit she has to do after lunch today. She would absolutely rather be on dish washing duty for a whole week than to be in Percy's presence. She couldn't even look at him without wanting to rip his face to shreds. But, she still found herself starring at him. How his black hair looks good even after he just rolled out of bed and how...

"Okay what the fuck are you doing stop it" she thought to herself shaking her head a bit.

It's been 15 minutes since they started sparring. They're both sweating buckets and they both wanna get this over with.

Percy was stressed the fuck out because she was winning. The reason why she was training with him anyway was because she wanted to get better but she's somehow beating him.

Y/n was having the time of her life seeing him so worked up over a little sparring match.

"Are you sure you're the best around here?, cause I rarely pick up a sword and I'm winning" she said looking at him with a smirk.

"You need to drop the attitude or you're not gonna like what's gonna happen" percy said through gritted teeth.

Not even a second later he was disarmed and she had the tip of her sword on his Adam's apple.

They were both breathing hard and heavy it was hot as shit now. Percy's shirt stuck to his abdomen making her eyes suddenly drop on accident. He smirked seeing where she was looking.

She swore she could she incredible fury and anger in Percy's eyes over a stupid sword fight. But then he grabbed her sword and threw it on the ground.

"Drop. The. Attitude. Now." He said grabbing her face tightly squishing her cheeks.

"Or fucking what?" She said biting back.

Percy all of a sudden grabs her hand tightening his grip and dragging her to the poseidon cabin.

He closed the door behind him and threw her on the bed.

"What the fuck are you doing??" She said absolutely shocked at his behavior.

"You need someone to fuck the attitude out of you don't you?" He said taking his shirt off and crashing his lips to hers.

He bit her bottom lip and shoved his tongue in her mouth while touching all over her body. She started getting hot, secretly having thought about this too many times late at night alone in her cabin.

She kept kissing his lips till they couldn't function anymore.

"I need you now" percy said looking into her eyes.

"Then have me" She said kissing him aggressively again.

Percy flipped them over looking up at her.

"Ride me" He said in a demanding tone

"Aren't you like the guy you're supposed to take care of me during shit like this?" She lifts a brow in question.

" will with that attitude you gotta take care of both of us now pretty girl" He said slapping her ass.

She jolted forward out of surprise. Then began stripping and teasing him with her body. Gently swaying her hips on top of him. He immediately grabs her tits not believing that this is actually happening and the girl he wants but hates the most is naked in front of him right now.

She sank down onto his cock feeling the amazing but painful stretch of him. His tip nudging her cervix.

She started to move throwing her head back and putting her hands on his chest.

"Omg who would've thought you'd feel this fucking good?" She says moaning.

"Faster baby you can do it" percy egged her on.

She tried to go faster but couldn't. Percy was sick of it so he grabbed her hips slamming into her In a brutal force.

She was moaning like crazy and practically screaming his name. Percy looks down seeing the milky ring around his shaft from her pussy.

" holy fucking God, if only people knew how much you actually hate me right now, huh?" He says taunting her. She looks at him with teary eyes from the pleasure.

"Hey, hey baby you okay? Am I going too hard? I'm so sorry pretty girl" percy says stopping, hugging her to his chest.

"I'm okay I promise" She says softly whispering the words on his lips. He kept her close to his chest looking at her to check if it's okay to keep going.

She slightly nodded to let him know to keep going. He starts moving again but so slow and so sweet this time, taking all his time with her.

The truth is percy always had a crush on her but she hated him since the beginning for some reason so he didn't know what to do but reciprocate the hate back.

But y/n she liked percy ever since they met, she just didn't know how to deal with her feelings. She realizes that's no excuse for treating him that way, but she was just a kid afraid of her feelings.

Percy kept trusting into her, kissing her passionately, holding her to his chest feeling like she's going to disappear.

Moaning into each other's mouths "I'm gonna cum percy" she says looking at him with blury eyes.

"It's okay, baby cum for me come one. That's my good girl good job" He said praising her to no end while she spasms around his thick cock. He thrusts a couple more times before Cumming too.

They laid there in each other's arms so happy they finally got their feelings out of the way.

Y/n was falling asleep when percy gently kissed her face to wake her.

"Baby let's clean up together first before we sleep okay?" He said stroking her hair

"Mhmmm" She hums clearly out of it but agreeing with him.

Percy carries her to the bathroom in his cabin to clean her up. Then he tucks them both in all cozy.

"Goodnight, baby sweet dreams, we'll talk tomorrow" He says, kissing her forehead before passing out himself.

[elliesspacewalker]

we already have virgin ellie, but what about virgin reader? ellie being careful with her and having to control herself cause she's so tight around her

Yes, absolutely.

cw: 18+, transgender!ellie, overstim, reader is a virgin, lmk if i missed anything

-

We all know Ellie masturbates a lot, definitely has something to do with raging teenage hormones. I'm talking stamina, this girl could masturbate non-stop for at least 15 minutes if she really wanted to.

But today she was with you, so delicate, precious, and soft-

Ellie laying on your stomach and kissing all up your jaw and neck, slightly grinding against you needing some friction against her cock as it thumps from hardness.

"mhmmm, ellie" you moan, and you clench around nothing, carefully move your hands through Ellie's hair as she works wonders on your neck...

"may I?" She looks up at you with the cutest doe-eyes, how could you say no to her? You couldn't, "yes"

Ellie swiftly takes off your bra and shirt, before kissing all down your stomach to the waist band of your shorts. Ellie just looks at you "go on" you tease and she lifts you up slightly so she can take off your shorts- leaving you in thin white cotton panties, that were already soaked through.

"s-so fucking hot" Ellie says as she takes off her shirt, revealing her boner- it was long and slightly curved with veins running down the side and too the tip. "Ellie please fuck me" you whimper out.

"yeah?" She leans down, undoing her jeans and taking them off, leaving her in just boxers... You could feel her hard-on; on your pussy. She holds your jaw gently in one hand and kisses up your neck as you whimper and squirm at the pleasure.

"please" your voice getting higher as you get more desperate, she chuckles against your neck sending vibration shocks all down your spine. You desperately remove your cotton panties as she holds her dick close to your wet pussy.

"let me know if it hurts and I'll stop" Ellie says, you look down and holy fuck it's big- I'm talking 7inches and wide.

You nod at her and your pussy is just begging to be fucked by her, she's got one hand on the bed near the side of your head as the other slowly puts the tip inside.

"fuck" you bite your lip and moan out, this makes Ellie whimper- "d-dont wanna push- fuck" she struggles to say as she pushes in more, letting you get used to the length.

Her length was so intoxicating, it was slightly painful but also so addictive- Ellie moves both hands to the side of your face

"please I need all of you" the stretch feeling too good now and you needed all of her, you look at her and nod, she sighs and sinks herself all the way down. You moan loudly and Ellie grunts, Ellie toys with your clit gently.

Allowing you to get used to the length, she slowly grinds her dick into you for some type of friction.

"so fucking tight - OH fuck" Ellie says as you clench around her, she lifts herself up and starts to fuck into you slowly...

"please fuck- faster, faster Ellie" you beg, Ellie groans trying to speed up but she only gets louder and louder "your so fucking tight, I don't think- fuck- I can't last" she pushes her face into your neck to hide her embarrassment.

She thrusts hard into your pussy, hitting your cervix and ripping a moan from your throat- this alone makes Ellie jerk hard, low grunts and mumbles of 'fuck' as her abs contract and her face scrunched up from pleasure.

You giggle at this sight, still panting- the feeling of her cum was intoxicating, it was warm and so comforting- she stays on top of you for a few seconds before lifting herself back up, slowly she begins to thrush back into you, becoming more fast from the turning second.

Your whining and holding onto her shoulders as your tits bounced in her face, making her groan- she as well was moaning loudly, she didn't care if she was overstimulated or it hurts, she wanted to make you feel good.

"Els" you moan as you play with your clit "i-i, cumming! Fuck!" You clench around her cock and she moans loudly, probably the loudest you've heard her....

She collapses on top of you, out of breath and groaning still- you're playing with her hair softly as you regain your breath.

[verstawppen]

hold me close (cl16)

BLURB (1.2k words)

verstawppen writes: something short and sweet for yall. enjoy!

summary: you comfort Charles after a bad Quali warnings: none. fem!reader, F1 journalist!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, secret relationship.

The day was going by at an excruciatingly slow pace, every time you checked your lock screen it seemed only a minute had passed. You sighed in exasperation as the press conference stretched on well past the scheduled timings. You could see the exhaustion on Yuk and Daniel’s faces even from your position at the back and you knew they were dying to get back to their hotel rooms for a day of rest. But here they were, stuck in the media pen answering pointed questions about their Qualifying. And you were stuck too. You’d already done your duties and compiled all the responses from your interviews with the drivers for your tabloid. You were itching to get back to your hotel room. To get back to Charles. He’d had a bad Qualifying, just as he began his fastest lap of Quali, his gearbox began malfunctioning and Ferrari had to retire the car. He was visibly frustrated when he came back to the Ferrari garage. He just wanted to have a good race for once this season without facing any issues with his car and you felt that he deserved that, being one of the best drivers on the grid. Ever since you’d seen him leaving the garage, running his hands through his damp hair, something he only did when he was being consumed with anxiety, you’d wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and soothe his uneased mind. You were his girlfriend, you should have been there for him. But it wasn’t that easy, you knew the implications it would have on both your careers, more on his than yours, to be seen together. An F1 journalist and Ferrari’s golden boy. The media would have a field day, you would know. A brief buzz from the pocket of your trousers brought you out of your thoughts-

Charles <3 When are you coming back?? I miss you :( You I’m so sorry Cha the conference is running past the schedule. I’m stuck here Charles <3 Want me to come rescue you, cherie? You No it’s alright, love. Try to rest until I come back, you’ve had a long day. When Charles didn’t respond after 15 minutes, you presumed he’d taken your advice and had gone to sleep. You felt guilt churn in your stomach. Charles was always there to take care of you after a long day despite his own exhausting profession. He was an absolute sweetheart, showering you with kisses as soon as you came back to him in his motorhome or his hotel room, sitting you down on his bed before taking off your heels for you, nimble fingers massaging your sore, tender feet.

‘Fuck this’ you thought to yourself. “Hey I think I’m gonna leave early”, you informed your colleague sitting beside you. You were friends and you’d told her about you and Charles. She nodded in understanding, “Go, I’ll cover for you.” You got up from your seat, shooting her a grateful smile as you gathered your things and left the media pen. You called yourself a cab to the hotel where Charles and you were staying. The ride felt longer than when you’d arrived at the paddock in the morning, excited to see Charles race. You rubbed your temple, your concern for Charles growing by the minute.

You practically fell out of the cab when you opened the door in a hurry even before the car had fully stopped. You quickly paid the driver and ran up the steps of the hotel entrance. The cool air of the hotel lobby cooled your skin which had gathered a thin layer of sweat from your rushed movements and increasing stress. You impatiently waited for the elevator and immediately pressed your floor number once you were inside.

The elevator opened with a ding and soon you were standing in front of Charles’s hotel room fishing around with one hand for the keycard he’d given you while your other hand held your suit jacket and your bag. You scanned the card and opened the door. You tried to be as quiet as possible and closed the door behind you with a soft click. You removed your heels, set them down on the shoe rack and deposited your stuff onto a countertop near the room’s entrance. But maybe your movements weren’t as discreet as you thought because as soon as the bed came into view, you saw Charles had woken up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He let out a silent yawn but as soon as his eyes fell on you, his face lit up. He sat upright, a wide grin on his face which you mirrored. You quickly made your way over to his side of the bed and sat down in front of him, feeling his hands wrap themselves around your frame. He was wearing a black hoodie, his favourite one which you liked to steal sometimes. You buried your in his neck, he smelled of aftershave and his characteristic slightly musky cologne. You held him close, your fingers clutching onto his hoodie.  His chin rested atop your head, his left hand tracing abstract circles on your back. It was everything you both needed. You pulled away and looked up into his sparkling green orbs. “Hi, love” “Hi, cherie” Even though he’d been calling you ‘cherie’ for more than 2 years now, the nickname never failed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached to cup his face, thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. “How are you?”, you asked. From this proximity, you could see the dark circles forming under his mesmerising eyes, a detail that the cameras thankfully never seemed to capture. And it was good, you knew Charles would hate for the world to think that he wasn’t able to take the heat. But at the end of the day, he was only human. He smiled before replying to you, his voice slightly raspy from having just woken up,” I’m good now that you’re here, mon amour.” Your hands moved from his face into his curled locks and he relished the feeling of your fingers lightly massaging his scalp, making waves of comfort and relief wash all over his tired body as his head found its resting place on your collarbone, lightly taking in the scent of your sweet floral perfume. He unconsciously smiled against your neck. Carding your fingers through his hair just the way you knew he liked, you spoke to him in a low, comforting sort of voice, “You did so well today, Charles. You almost had the fastest lap of the Quali despite having to work with such a difficult car. You got the best you could out of that car and that’s enough for now. Things will get better, Ferrari is working on the issue, right? You’ll soon have a car worthy of your talent and you’ll be back on the podium in no time, love.” He hummed in acknowledgement of your encouraging words. It meant a lot to him, more than you’d ever know. He pressed a small kiss to your collarbone in appreciation. “Thank you, ma cherie” You smiled, your eyes closing to relish the warmth of his presence in your embrace. “Anytime, Cha”

[callsign-dexter]

Baby Bradford Meets The Rookies

Summary: Tim's babysitter can't pick Y/N up after school. So, Tim does and brings her back to the station where The Rookies are in for a surprise.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter

Banner done by @callsigns-haze

Neither Tim nor his daughter, Y/N, were a morning person. This is why when his alarm goes off in the mornings he lets her sleep in as long as he can because dealing with a grumpy 7-year-old.

Tim loves his daughter, he has ever since she was born. Her mother, Isabel, left when she was 6 years old but even then she wasn't really a mother to their little girl always in and out of undercover. She cared more about the job than she did her husband, now ex-husband, or child. When she went undercover and didn't come back, Tim went to court and got full custody of their daughter. Isabel wasn't happy about it but signed the papers and was out of her life for good. Y/N favored Tim the most out of both of her parents. While Tim was gone for work he would drop her off at school in the morning and then her babysitter, a sweet 26-year-old woman named Marina Bailey, Y/N absolutely loved her.

Tim's alarm went off at 6:30 AM and it slowly roused him awake and he was turning over and turning it off. He sat up and threw the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his hand down his face waking him up and getting the sleep out of his eyes. He stood up and stretched and walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen but first, he stopped by his daughter's room to check on her. Tim opened the door and smiled seeing her curled up facing the wall sound to sleep he shut the door quietly and walked into the kitchen. Y/N didn't have to be up until 7:00 AM.

Tim got the coffee grounds out and scooped out what he needed and started the coffee maker. While it was brewing he made her lunch and then he went back into his bedroom and started to get ready for work. He also packed a bag with extra clothing and miscellaneous stuff and walked it into the kitchen. He then went back took a quick shower and brushed his teeth and put on his clothes for the day, he would change into his uniform at the station, and watch. He looked at his watch and it was 7:00 AM, time to wake his daughter up.

Tim walked to his daughter's room and opened the door quietly. She had moved positions and now was sprawled out in the middle of her bed with her covers thrown off and he smiled and chucked. He walked into her room and to her bed and knelt down. She moved to another position to where she was facing him. He started to speak to her slowly and softly "Y/N/N, it's time to get up." He said and she groaned and scrunched her nose up.

"No." She said and buried her head into her pillow and he smiled and here starts the wake up process.

"Yes, it's time to get up and get ready for school." He said running a hand gently through her hair.

"There isn't any school today." She said opening her eyes not happy to be awake.

"If there wasn't I wouldn't be waking you up. I also would've known." Tim said and she groaned knowing she had lost the fight.

"Fine." She said and started to get up and he stood up and watched her for a minute.

"If you need me. Yell for me." He said and she nodded and he left the room. He walked back into the kitchen where the now-finished coffee was done brewing and grabbed a cup poured some in and began drinking it. He made himself busy around the house. He looked down at his watch and it was only 7:15 AM. He was about to start something else when Y/N yelled out for him.

"Daddy?" She asked loud enough for him to hear from the kitchen, he put his coffee cup down and headed to the bathroom where she was at the sink in her clothing for the day and teeth brushed.

"Yes, Baby Girl?" He asked

"Can you do my hair?" She asked looking at him through the mirror with puppy dog eyes. Tim always hated doing hair but since Isabel wasn't around he had to learn and he got pretty damn good at it. Damn good that almost all the moms were jealous.

"Of course, Baby Girl. How do you want it done?" He asked and the brightest smile appeared on her face.

"French Braid." She said confidentiality.

"You got it!" He said and got to work. It was only 7:20 AM and they had to leave by 7:30 AM to get to her school that was 20 minutes away. Tim got done in no time and stood back looking at his work and smiled the same smile that appeared on his daughter's face. "How did I do?" He asked and she nodded turning to him.

"It's perfect." She said and he kissed her forehead and they headed to the kitchen so she could eat breakfast and then they would be on their way.

When she was done she put her dishes in the sink while he filled a thermos of coffee for him and grabbed her lunch while she grabbed her backpack and picked up his duffle bag. She started to walk out while he walked behind her toward the truck. "Remember Marina is picking you up after school." He said as she hopped up in the truck and she put her stuff beside her and he helped her strap in.

"You got it, Daddy." She said and he smiled and shut the door and got in the driver's side throwing his duffle bag in the front seat. He started the engine and backed out of the driveway and onto her school. They arrived at the school at 7:50 AM a teacher opened the door and greeted them.

"Good morning!" Mrs. Woods said and they both smiled at her.

"Good morning!" Y/N said and she un-buckled herself "I love you, Daddy." She said.

"I love you too." He said and she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek and he did the same. Mrs. Woods helped her out as she grabbed her stuff and headed into the school. Tim drove off once they were in the school and onto work.

Tim arrived at the station and parked his truck, he killed the engine and grabbed his duffle bag and headed inside. He greeted everyone and then walked into the locker room and changed into his uniform. Not many people were in there besides Jackson West and John Nolan. "Good morning, Officer Bradford." Nolan said trying to get on his good side.

"Good morning, Rookies." Tim says as he finishes putting his uniform on and then starts his trip to the briefing room. When he gets there he sits by Angela Lopez and Talia Bishop.

"How's Y/N?" Angela asks him and he turns to look at her.

"Doing good. Asked me to braid her hair this morning and I did. She also tried to tell me there wasn't any school today." He said and the two females chuckled.

"How convincing was she?" Talia asked after the chuckling died down.

"Not very." He said and just then Lucy Chen, Nolan, and Jackson walked in and then Wade Grey walked in to start the day. The briefing was over quickly and then they were heading out on patrol.

Nothing exciting happened on patrol although everyone made a few arrests and some had to break up fights. It was nearing lunch time and everyone decided to stop at their regular place. As everyone was sitting and eating and talking Tim's phone began to ring. At first, he didn't pay attention to it "Aren't you going to answer that?" Angela asked him and he pulled out his phone to see that it was Marina.

"It's Marina. I need to take this." He said and got up and walked away from the group as he answered it.

"Hello." He said

"Hey, Tim. It's Marina." Marina said and he smiled she always greeted him like this.

"What's wrong?" He asked her wondering why she was calling in the middle of the day.

"I'm not going to be able to pick up Y/N from school. A family emergency came up." She said and he nodded understanding.

"That's perfectly fine. I'll pick her up. Everything ok?" He asked and she sighed.

"My mom is in the hospital and they don't know what for I was the only one available to be with her." She said

"If you need anything don't hesitate to call. You take as much time as you need. I hope everything turns out ok." He said

"Thank you. I'm sorry again." She said

"No need to apologize. I get it. Family comes first." He said

"Again thank you so much. Have a good day." She said

"You too." He replied and they both hung up the phone and he walked over to Angela and Talia.

"Everything ok?" Angela asked.

"Marina had a family emergency come up so she can't pick up Y/N." Tim said as he sat down and took a bite of food.

"Who is gonna pick her up?" Talia asked

"Lucy and I will." Tim said and everyone nodded.

"They haven't met her yet. It's going to be interesting." Angela said and they all laughed.

"I need to call Grey and let him know." Tim said and they nodded as he pulled his phone once again and hit Grey's number to call him. It rang twice before he answered.

"Officer Bradford, how can I help you?" He asked

"Marina can't pick up Y/N after school so had a family emergency. I need to pick her up." Tim said

"That's perfectly fine. She can hang out here until your shift ends." Grey said and Tim nodded.

"Thank you, sir." He said

"Anything for you and that little girl. You know Luna would love to help out and watch her when she needs to." Grey said and Tim smiled.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind." He said and then they said bye to each other and hung up.

As he was hanging up a call came in and he responded to it letting dispatch know that he and Lucy were on the way.

**********************************************

"Oh, what call do you think Tim just took?" Jackson asked as they watched him sit back down at the table.

"Who knows. Any guesses?" Nolan asked and they just shrugged.

"Not that I can think of." Lucy said now wanting to get to the bottom of what her TO was hiding.

"I think he has a kid." Nolan said and they looked at him.

"Why do you think that?" Jackson asked

"Just a gut feeling. He just seems like a dad." Nolan said and they still looked at him weirdly.

"Tim, hard ass, doesn't take any shit, and makes no mistakes Tim?" Lucy asked and Nolan nodded as he took a bit of his food. The rest of lunch was spent eating in silence while the rookies thought it over until Lucy and Tim had a call and they were off to it.

**********************************************

The call was just a disturbance call and it was quickly dealt with. Tim looked at his watch and saw that it read 2:20 PM and this caught Lucy's eye. "Do we have somewhere to be?" She asked looking at him and Tim looked at her as they stopped at a stoplight.

"Matter in fact, Boot. We do." He said

"Are you going to tell me?" She asked and he didn't say a word just turned on his right turning signal and headed towards the elementary school. Lucy took notice of this. "Why are we going to the elementary school? We didn't get a call." She said and again he didn't say anything. Tim pulled into the parking lot and pulled up to the front of the school.

"You stay here. I'll be back." He said as he parked the shop and headed towards the entrance of the school. Lucy watched in full curiosity, her window was down so she could hear everything going on. Nothing happened and so she took her phone out when she heard a shriek and she looked up making sure nothing was wrong and the sight that she saw warmed her heart.

"Daddy!" A little girl yelled and Tim bent down for her to rush into his arms.

"Baby Girl!" He yelled back and kissed her and she giggled and picked her up and started to carry her towards the shop.

"I thought Marina was supposed to pick me up." She said

"She had a family emergency. So you're going to come back to the station with me and hang out until it's time to go home." He said and she shrieked.

"Yay!" She yelled out. He opened the back door and sat her in and buckled her in and got into the front. Lucy was shocked, he did have a heart and could smile she turned to the little girl that was looking at her and Tim noticed.

"Y/N this is Lucy Chen. Lucy this is Y/N Bradford my daughter." Tim said and a smile appeared on both of girls faces.

"Hi." She said quietly.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you." Lucy said and Y/N blushed and looked down. The car ride was filled with questions and talking.

**********************************************

It didn't take long for them to make it back to the station and pull into the garage. Tim parked and shut the engine off and opened the door where he helped her get out and grabbed her stuff. The three of them walked further into the station while Y/N chatted with her father about school and playing with the collar of his uniform.

Nolan and Jackson were there and they were surprised to see Tim with a child. They were stunned in silence until Jackson spoke up "Officer Bradford did you find a missing child?" He asked the question that everyone was wondering but Lucy.

"No, Boot. This is Y/N Bradford, my daughter." Tim said as Y/N buried further into her father's neck being shy. "Y/N say hi." He said and she looked at them.

"Hi." She said giving them a wave.

"I knew it. Hi Y/N I'm Nolan." Nolan said already attached to the little girl.

"I'm Jackson." Jackson said

"Hi." She said and gave a wave just then Angela and Talia walked in and she lit up like a Christmas tree. "AUNT ANGIE, AUNT TALIA!" She screeched out and wiggled to be put down and he did so taking her bag off of her back and watching as she ran to them. They bent down and hugged her.

"Hey, sweet girl. How was school?" Angela asked and she started to tell them about her day as she picked her up and walked over to the rest of the group.

"It was good! We didn't learn anything interesting." She said and they all chuckled and Tim rolled his eyes the same answer he always got. Angela looked at Jackson.

"We need to go." She said and he nodded as Tim took Y/N back.

"Bye Aunt Angie and Jackson!" She yelled pit over Tim's shoulder and waved at them and they waved back and then they were gone.

"Ok, Y/N/N. I need to take you to Officer Grey. Say bye to everyone." He said and she turned around and did as she was told and he walked off with her.

"I knew he was a father." Nolan said watching him interact with his daughter in Grey's office.

"He's a good one. He's been pretty much raising her all by himself for 7 years." Talia said

"Really?" Lucy asked and she nodded.

"Yea. Isabel cared more about being undercover than raising her child." Talia said as Tim came back to the group.

"Alright. Let's get back to work." He said and everyone nodded.

**********************************************

It was the end of the shift for them and they all headed back to the station. Cars were parked and everyone went and changed. Tim was the first one to change and head to his little girl. She was fast asleep on the couch in Grey's office. He knocked and Grey looked up and waved him on in. "Wasn't too much trouble was she?" He asked and he shook his head.

"Not at all. She's too much like you. Luna came by with supper and we ate together. I told her the situation and she 100% is on board to help." He said and they both chuckled. Tim picked her up without waking her and grabbed her stuff looking at him.

"I might just take you up on that offer." He said and Grey nodded.

"Just let us know." He said and Tim nodded and headed on his way. As they were walking everyone came out of the locker room and started walking with them.

"She's just so adorable." Nolan said and everyone nodded in agreement as Tim pushed her up further onto him.

"Thank you." Tim said they followed them to Tim's truck which was right beside Nolan’s and Jackson's and Lucy's not too far away. Talia and Angela had to do something before leaving. Tim put Y/N in the truck and in her carsest.

"Hey if you need any help or someone to watch her, I'll happily do it." Nolan said

"I second that." Jackson said

"Count me in." Luchy said and Tim nodded and smiled.

"Thank you guys, that means so much." Tim said really grateful that he introduced her to The Rookies. They all parted ways.

When Tim and Y/N got home it was late and he picked her up and took her. He would grab their stuff later. He unlocked the door and into the house and straight to her room. He got her changed and tucked in. He kissed her head "I love you." He said and then walked out cracking the door. He was definitely glad he introduced her to them. He knew that they would protect her like she was their own and no harm was going to come to her.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

[alkali1]

Belly Attendant 3: Delivery Pt 1

The next morning you awaken to Naia whimpering and moaning through a strong contraction, her womb quivering and rolling under your fingertips. Her contractions picked up in frequency and intensity over night, and you figure that sometime today she'll have to push out the overgrown centaur foal. "Oh god, my hips are so sore. Maybe I overdid it last night" Naia whines. "Your body was probably telling you to help loosen them up and get things moving." You respond, pressing your hands deep into her plush buttocks to provide soothing counterpressure to her strained pelvis.

You cuddle for hours, keeping her milked, fed, and pleasured, as the contractions slowly dilate her. You pay special attention to her sore pelvis, spending lots of time squeezing her fat birthing hips as she struggles with the pain of them opening up to pass the overdeveloped surrogate foal. With the help of her magical weightbearing harness, you ease her into whatever positions her body urges her to take. A semi-squat on the edge of the bed is perfect for burying your face between her plump thighs and making her gasp and moan in pleasure for an hour. Wiping off your face, you check her dilation again. "15 centimeters. But it still feels like you have a ways to go." Privately you wonder what the absolute maximum diameter is that she can possibly stretch to. Having to go beyond 10 is rare for her, only needed for the absolute largest of her surrogate children, and this foal is large enough to really push her limits.

After laboring all day, it's now early evening. When you sense her energy and willpower flagging you wipe the sweat from her brow and pepper her face with kisses, whispering loving reassurances to her. "Oh God, I feel like I'm about to hit transition." she moans. "Should we get you to the birth chamber?" you ask. "Ooh, not quite yet" she moans, grabbing your hand and pulling it towards her needy cunt. You finger her clit, feeling her thighs squeezing desperately around your arm, while kissing and worshiping her heaving, lopsided belly. She cums hard after only a few minutes, but her moans of pleasure are soon replaced by pain as she feels something deep and low inside her shift. "Get me to the birthing room, now. I need to walk to get this foal positioned right." You hold her arm and arm, helping her balance as she slowly waddles through the temple halls. Each contraction makes her stop and let loose guttural screams of discomfort and pain. She realizes that the baby is malpositioned, and the too-large head is jammed awkwardly against her back. You provide as much counterpressure as you can in the small of her back but it seems to do very little to help with the crushing pain.

"This is the worst back labor I've had since that stubborn half-giant a few years ago. It feels like my spine is going to pop out of alignment."

The contractions get stronger and closer together as her womb attempts to squeeze the awkwardly angled head through her painfully stretched cervix. She's barely able to waddle for 30 seconds between each one before instinctively dropping into a wide squat, clutching desperately at her poor hips while pushing furiously. Even with the harness it's difficult for you to heave her back upright. You finally make to to the chamber when her water bursts dramatically, soaking the tiled floor and your shoes. Without the cushioning bag of fluid the head is able to align well enough with her birth canal for her pushes to start to make progress.

You get her lying down on the room's mattress, on her side with one plump leg hiked up as far as she can, resting in a loop of fabric dangling from the ceiling. You push your arm into her darkly swollen pussy to check her, and feel a cervical lip impeding her progress. You gently, manually stretch her cervix during her pushes, feeling the cannonball-sized head bulging forward millimeters at a time.

Elves have the unique ability for their pelvic ligaments to stretch like rubber, a necessity for a race that carries babies for 36 to 40 months. After two hours of pushing, her hip bones have separated several inches, just barely enough for the foal's human head to start squeezing its way between.

"I can't stretch any more!" she whines, "It's so big!" "You're doing such a great job, honey. I know this is a big one but it's nothing you can't handle."

She pleads for you to help her into the ceiling harness: a device similar to her magical belly support belt. It allows birthing surrogates to be suspended semi-weightlessly with their body supported, to allow for a greater variety of birthing positions. You strap her in and hoist her up so she's lying on top of her belly, which still touches the ground. You help her pull her legs forward to open up her hips. Finally, her desperate, grunting pushes are starting to force the oversized head through her separated hips. Her pussy starts to get puffy and bulgy, a sliver of hair visible deep within her folds. "Oh god I can feel it, it's way too big!" Petting her belly and covering her in tender kisses, you reassure her that it isn't, that she's going to be able to do this. Privately, you're starting to have your doubts. The horse half is going to be wider than the head, will it get stuck in her straining, creaking pelvis? You quickly tap out a magic message to the temple abbot, letting her know that Naia is having a difficult birth, and to remain on standby to provide auxiliary support if needed.

You work soothing oil into her swollen pussy, magically infused to help her stretch beyond her natural capacity. Though it may help her stretch, it does almost nothing to help with the pain of being spread and stretched around a 70 pound centaur. You can tell the burning pain is unbearable for her. She lets out a high pitched shriek of "Noooooooo!" with the push that parts her tender lips around the beginnings of the massive crown.

"Oh my god it burns so bad! Please get me to the pool now!" she cries out. You move the harness over the room's hot-spring fed birthing pool, lowering her in and unstrapping her swollen body from the uncomfortably tight fabric. Kneeling down behind her, you run your finger around the tight rim of her cunt. She's stretched tighter than she has been in months, and the head is still not even at its widest point.

You start to worry that she could tear. With one hand, you brace her perineum, and with the other, you press down on her clit, reassuring her that she's not going to rip, that she just needs a little extra time to stretch. You help coach her through panting away the contractions, fighting the urge to push to let her body work at the pace it needs to. But no extra stretch is forthcoming, even as you hold the head in place for over half an hour. You painstakingly manipulate her achingly tight lips a millimeter at a time, gradually pulling them back around the hard surface of the head, easing it out of her without letting her tear. Finally, with a guttural shriek from Naia, it squirts forward on its own, finally fully crowned. But you both know that the hardest part is still to come: the horse body.

[purpledemonlilyposting]

[Lily's Post]

Look I know alot of you think my criticisms of A Place Further Than the Universe are only cause Lorch likes it but there is absolutely zero focus on science in the show and that's part of my problem with it.

It really is just a slice of a life focused entirely on getting 4 high school girls on a big technical boat for purity moeblob gooners.

At one point the girls go outside on the ship, alone, at night, during a storm, getting soaked by freezing cold ocean water in their pajamas against a thin rail they could easily get swept away from and this is treated as cute rather than idiotically suicidal. They just giggle and talk about how salty the water is.

SCIENCE!

None of the 4 girls are interested in anything STEM related. They all just want to go to Antartica because that's the plot.

Kimari just wants to do "something with her youth" because that's how 50 year old Jukki Hanada thinks 15 year old girls talk, Hinata just overheard them talking about it in the convenience store she works at and thought it sounded neat, and Yuzuki is only going cause she's like a minor child star celebrity idol vlogger or some shit and her manager mom (who is NOT accompanying her) thought sending her on a Japanese civilian expedition to Antarctica would be... good PR? Yuzuki also the only way the other girls even conveniently get on the trip.

Shirase at least HAS a reason, even if its a desperate, stupid one based on grief. Her mom disappeared out there 3 years ago and she wants to "find" her (more she just wants closure and is clinging to a childish hope her mom is still alive.) But Shirase's mom ALSO was NOT a scientist and ALSO just went to Antarctica just because she thought it sounded neat. And died in a blizzard out there trying to retrieve a laptop so she could email her daughter a photo of the aurora australis.

The girls get like one night of tent training and thats it. They don't even have to be in peak physical condition for a trip to one of the most dangerous places on Earth. It is barely about this expedition, its just there as an excuse to put moe high school girls next to accurately rendered machinery.

Here's how I'd rewrite this show: if it HAS to be high school girls maybe have the four attend the same school and be into different aspects of research. Maybe Hinata wants to be an engineer, Shirase is following in her artic researcher mother's footsteps despite the danger, Yuzuki could still run a popular vlog but maybe its climate science and no one takes her seriously cause she's a young girl believing she's just the presenter being fed information by a team, and Kimari could just be getting introduced to these fields she never even thought about before. And they're all trying to earn a grant that will allow them to go on the expedition.

But I suppose "girls and women being scientists" is too much of a stretch of the imagination for an aging Japanese man.